"Instincts Are Misleading, You Shouldn't Think What You're Feeling"

This post is going to be filled with all the quotes; you've been warned. So yesterday I woke up feeling "down a peg," and used the rain as an excuse to miss my kickboxing but still rallied at lunch on the elliptical. I'm still in heavy vacation recovery zone and yesterday I had to do a random project for my boss. Therefore, the blog post yesterday got lost in the shuffle, and I think that could be said about myself too.

Yesterday I did a classic "chick" move and text someone that had fallen off the grid and I did my whole "check in" thing. I knew I should have just let things succumb to the fade, but I am who I am. Is that a Popeye thing? Now this isn't a post about a fight or a blow out or even some kind of half closure. This is just about following your instincts and feeling some harsh realities.

To be clear this isn't a bad person or harmful person I reached out to, but rather someone who knew me during a rough phase in my life and that maintains only that perception and understanding of me. There is no knowledge of my personal work and growth and out of insecurity I sent that text almost looking for an opportunity to say, "But I'm getting better."

That opportunity didn't happen because, and just as I had suspected, just as my gut warned me, the conversation was directed to their recent break up and moving on to bigger and better conquests. In that moment I was reverted back to where I was two years ago with them, grasping to keep this kind of attention because it was all the attention I got. Yesterday, it just made me uncomfortable. In addition to that, the conversation was very much left hanging, no sense of closure or a reciprocated "Talk to you in a few weeks."

I then went through my normal anxious routine of "I told you so," "You knew this would happen," "You should have never checked in," "why do I even bother?", "I don't wanna deal with this," etc, etc.

True to form I then became irrationally angry that I was left hanging: "What you're too busy to say 'Talk to you later?'" "You're too good to take a moment to like, close a conversation or give some reassurance in this situation?" "If I can make time to message you, you should be able to respond!?"

Following the above came the rationalizations and inner self-soothing dialogue. And don't even act like you don't do this yourself because we all do! I started thinking to myself, "Well it was mentioned that things were overwhelming with the break up so just give it some time." "You put all that good energy out there and you can't FORCE a response, REMEMBER?" "They always come back, especially when you're not in a good enough space to hold your mental ground and navigate their stuff so, just keep that in mind." "It is what it is." "It really just is what it is, so just breathe and let it go."

Now this one fall back might be specific to just me but I usually "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" this stuff. There are usually a handful of people that I struggle with keeping afloat that I just wish I could forget about, in a non-mean way, but like they'd been erased and I could just no longer care. I just wish I could pluck them from my brain and every day existence. 

It was with prayers about my anxiety and a good workout at 9Rounds complete with punching things, getting out some aggression that I kind of reminded myself that I can "do no harm, but take no shit." I had to build myself back up into the idea that, it's not about me nor is it my fault that texts weren't returned, conversations weren't closed and that the whole exchange was uncomfortable. I mean I own my feelings of discomfort as, my just not being mentally prepared for the deluge of info and for not realizing the effect of it on me. However, regardless of how the exchange was left, I still can't control another person's opinion of me.

In an even more awakening light, I was listening to the Dax Shepard ArmChair Expert Podcast with Busy Phillips and he said something so right on I actually wrote it down on my work scribble pad. He said, "It's too uncomfortable to think they might now not like you so people stay half in a relationship still being there for them...I can't live with the notion that this person I like now hates me, but sometimes through your actions and other things that's just a part of living on planet earth."

That hit me like a stroke of lightning and happened just after this morning that all I could picture was that scene in The Office where Pam was going to see Karen for the first time after the break-up with Jim that subsequently got Pam and Jim together. Pam said, "I hate the idea that someone out there hates me. I hate even thinking that al-Qaeda hates me. I think if they got to know me, they wouldn't hate me."

I kept replaying that scene in my mind mulling over the exchange and then came into work and popped on my morning podcast only hear that exact part of the ArmChair Expert interview clearly. It was something of kismet and started all good things in my mind. When I went to write the title to this post, after listening to a lot of The Cranberries this morning, all I could hear was one of my favorite Death Cab for Cutie songs, "Lightness," and there is a kind of bridge that sings, "Oh instincts are misleading, you shouldn't think what you're feeling. They don't tell you what, you know you should want."

It made me grateful that I was open enough to connect the dots instead of putting myself into some mental frenzy of insecurity and invalidation. It gave me affirmation that, sure I may have had a mis-step or emotional relapse of some kind but I'm also ridiculously human. 

All of the quotes ring true to me, my anxiety and my relationships of all kinds. I spent the morning making a playlist on Spotify dubbed, "Care Less," with all kinds of songs designed to fuel my whole, "let it go," "it is what it is," and "let it be" cliche mantras to get me through the weird funk I'm now lifting myself out of only a tad hazily.

Ironically I'm not really embarrassed to admit or write about any of this. Why? Because we've all had this happen. It could have happened when you were 14 or just yesterday. We have these anxious exchanges with friends, ex-friends, ex-boyfriends, ex-girlfriends, old family members we don't stay in touch with that leave us feeling inferior, unappreciated or less than. It could be a product of a bad day, or a mental health slump, or it could just be those sticky insecurities tripping us up. It could be many people, many things, many reasons, but guess what? It has hit us all at one time or another.

I used to journal about stuff like this and write weird narratives about it or some beatnik poem. This time I'm just openly like "Yeah, I was THAT chick yesterday." Perhaps the bravery comes from the likelihood of the secondary party actually reading this being about the same as the chance I have of winning the lottery, but it is out here for ALL readers and interested parties so, "Que será, será."

For those of you who haven't had much experience with this, thanks for the reading time but remember that as "just a part of living on planet earth," odds are you'll reach this point one day and may my awkwardness guide you on your quest navigating weird relationship things.  

The Song Remains The Same, But The Times They Are A Changing

Yeah I just titled that with a Led Zeppelin - Bob Dylan mash up. So get ready for a musically themed post for this Friday.

There are weird albums, songs, and bands from my late teens early twenties that can bring back some of the most random memories or have some kind of sensory reminiscent thing with me. Mostly, however, I've discovered that the same amazing songs just have new levels of depth and meaning.

It's so hilarious to me how we can listen to these albums over and over but not really "get them" until we're ready to hear them in a particular way. We watched "Bohemian Rhapsody" over the weekend so naturally I have been binge-listening Queen on repeat. A Night At The Opera is an album my dad and I used to listen to all the time. There is this song, "Love Of My Life," and it's completely gorgeous but I never really listened to it until the movie. The movie portrayed it as a tragic love song about being in love with someone that you couldn't ever completely give yourself to, nor could you live without them. This has been on repeat for me all week, because I think it's honesty is as gorgeous as it's tune.

As a Spotify addict, and a Pandora loather, Spotify will judge my random playlists with suggestions that I can choose to add, rather than be forced to listen to. Sorry Pandora, but just because I like Taylor Swift doesn't mean I want to listen to an hour of Rascal Flatts, no offense. Spotify reminded me of my favorite Coldplay album and I heard this one song again but actually listened and was like, "Holy crap! Relevant much!?"

Zeppelin wins in saying the Song Remains The Same because in more ways than one, it completely does. Music is timeless. So when people say they don't "like" The Beatles or The Rolling Stones I don't understand what that means. You don't have to brush your teeth to "Love Me Do," or "Paint It Black," but music transcends everything. You've heard those songs regardless of if you put them on yourself, and I feel like you at least have to recognize the talent factor.

I'll always feel I was born in the wrong era, but in some ways I get the best of it all because I can revisit the legends, judge the new kinds and appreciate every single transition of the ages. I love almost every kind of music, or at least I can appreciate what it's doing for it's audience. Some people are more instrumental in their tastes, others are lyrical.

I'm completely lyrical in my obsessions. Any song can have a good beat but when you tell me a story, a story that I've lived or felt or been in myself, it is a very different experience. I don't enjoy Britney Spears music because she is deep. She's catchy and fun and dances well and I give the girl mad props for being herself. I don't love Bowling For Soup because they have touched my heart with their wise words. They are funny and great stage performers and they give you the fun tunes you need when you're stuck in traffic.

Led Zeppelin I listen to when I need perspective on the world. Death Cab For Cutie writes my soul into compositions that have shaken me. Hanson has gotten me through some of the worst moments because they write words that encourage and affect me.

I don't judge anyone's taste, anyone can like and listen to what they please, but what I know as a fundamental truth about me, is that music is life, I'm better with it, and it always keeps me going. I have felt the most spiritual experiences in front of a stage just watching someone completely electrify the audience with their musical presence.

Times are definitely changing. The arena concerts just make me sad because you spend all this money on an uncomfortable seat to see someone on screens instead of in a smaller venue where you can feel the music to it's fullest and dance until you can't stand anymore. I've caved and gotten the arena seats just to be in the presence of Paul Simon, Billy Joel, Rod Stewart and Neil Diamond but I didn't get to sing and dance around like I do when I go see Dashboard Confessional and scream and cry and sing with them the very songs that defined my teenage years.

Paul Simon has written some of the best poetry that has spoken worlds to me, but I'll never see him in a tiny club like my parents and their friends. I'm always at my best when surrounded by meaningful music. Sometimes I get so irritated when I drive with my husband because I put on a non-Disney playlist and I just want to listen to the songs, and he wants to talk about stuff. Rude, right? Kidding! I just love my time with music.

There are a few newer artists who are thriving in creativity for the next generation but I've also felt that parental gap where certain things are just "noise." I mean I can understand why they are "cool," but they are definitely not for me. I actually had the horrifying realization recently that most popular songs by pop women are about sex and filled with innuendos and even my favorite childhood bands were littered with sexual themes and my parents either didn't notice or didn't care.

I'm always thankful when my favorite artists make new music. I feel like it's a personal gift to me. I thank them by going to see them live, provided they come to Florida, which sometimes they don't. My husband and I saw one of our all time favorite bands, The Decemberists last year at The House of Blues Orlando and I was dancing and singing all the songs loudly without a care. I looked around and people were seemingly just bobbing along with little enthusiasm. I said "No wonder they don't come down here! No one is dancing and their music is for dancing!" Yes, I'm that crazy person hippie dancing always.

I'm going into this weekend with great playlists ready to embrace those songs that are staying the same but acknowledge that the times they are a changing. That doesn't mean I'll ever stop listening to vinyls though...

Live Music Is Living My Best Life

My first concert was when I was 13. I didn't appreciate it at all at the time. It was with a friend who was almost a frenemy but my mom made me go. It was Billy Joel at F&M college circa 1997, 1998ish. My first concern I cared about what at Hershey Stadium. Hanson. I have no shame. It was huge and overwhelming and loud but so fun. I didn't see many other concerts until I was 18, but was lucky enough to see *NSYNC in south Florida when I was 17, which was awesome.

When I moved to Oregon and connected with music to get me through all my family stuff I started going to concerts. My dad wouldn't go with me, but would drop me off and pick me up or make my older sisters take me until I was about 19 and had large dude friend to look out for me. By the time I was 19 going to concerts was like a hobby and collecting tickets, bumper stickers, shirts, autographs, anything I could get was like a sport.

Last night I went to the radio station 97X's sponsored event called the "Freebie Weebie." I drove an hour to a dive bar to get the "free" tickets and an hour home about a month ago because a band I would have paid to see, was going to be free at my favorite venue, Jannus Landing and St. Pete, a mere 6 blocks from my office. I recruited a friend and off we went.

The band has now exploded onto mainstream channels, but started with one simple hit, "Broken." I heard the song early one morning and couldn't get past how amazing the lyrics were: "I like that you're broken, broken like me, maybe that makes me a fool. I like that you're lonely, lonely like me, I could be lonely with you." I did what I do best which was find them on Spotify and immediately devour the debut album of Lovelytheband.

Last year when I found this album my life was really in a huge state of upheaval for me. When I found this album it seems to reach out to all my mental health struggles, relationship struggles, feelings of inadequacy and lonely but surrounded by people parallels. I felt like it was written for me, which I hadn't felt in a couple years so it was really comforting. I quickly found multiple songs I loved but my favorite was called "Stupid Mistakes" and professed, "We all make stupid mistakes sometimes, but I make them more than most, and it's my fault that I live my life running away from ghosts. Too many skeletons, too hard to keep them in the closet where they've been. We all make stupid mistakes sometimes you're the one that I miss the most."

Going to concerts is like a religious experience for me. The way that some people connect when they are at church is me at a concert, especially a concert where the band's entire album or collection has profoundly affected me. These rights go to: Hanson, Death Cab for Cutie, Dashboard Confessional, Rilo Kiley, The Decemberists, Cake, and Ben Folds to name the most dominant. 

This free concert event came to me with reservations. I'm too old to deal with drunk kids spilling beer on me and being unaware and insensitive. The bar fights and people too drunk or high to know they are at a show aren't cute or benign anymore, they make me jaded and cynical and annoyed. But I wanted to see Lovelytheband before they were "too cool" and lost the ability to play small venues. 

The entire night was actually great. Not only did I have perfect company, but the opening band was from St. Pete and sounded fine, the second act I had just happened upon from the same station and they reminded me of other bands I loved back in my youth and they put on quite an amazing set, and Lovelytheband played all of my favorites off of the album. 

When they played their hit "Broken" the lead singer spoke about being young and being sad but not really knowing why he was sad and said, "Sometimes it's okay to not be okay and never feel badly asking for help. Asking for help is great!" He spoke about mental health awareness and it kicked me right in the feels. It was so perfect. 

I had had a weird end to my week with amazing news, frustrating news, relieving news, extra hurdles, late bedtimes, not enough food, too much stress and just feeling anxious about multiple things. I had felt the love and support from some of my favorite people while all the while feeling a little isolated. It was quite literally all the feels and happy struggles, but struggles still and then I had such an inspiring musical end.

After the concert I had a weird, miraculous event that I can only hope was some good karma after a strange week. I had walked my friend to her car in a neighboorhod I knew well. I had just had a kind homeless man tell my tired self that I looked beautiful while walking back to the parking garage at my work complex, which is apartments with retail space. Before the show I wanted to take the least amount of stuff with me, so I took off my car keychains, and my key card for my office. I thought, I don't need to get back into the building anyway, just into the parking garage so no biggy.

I had done this once before with no issue but had my whole purse and entered through the lobby. This time I didn't need all the extra stuff. I had just text the sitter that I would be exactly on time as predicted. The night had gone as I expected which was such a strange comfort. When I ran into the parking garage, they had lowered a gate and locked a doorway I had never even seen before. It seemed to have a weird punch code with numbers. And I didn't have my key card to get in through the building. It was locked in my car, behind that gate. Oh my gosh, HOW WAS I GOING TO GET IN TO GET MY CAR TO GET HOME.

I had thought quickly on my feet and called my friend immediately thinking, okay worst case she can get me home to the sitter, we could get my car tomorrow and I'd have to write the babysitter a check or get her cash tomorrow because I locked my money safely in my car so it couldn't get lost or stolen at the show. I dialed my friend and got 3 rings in. Someone pulled in to come into the garage and the gate opened, I followed them in. It happened to be the resident that parked exactly in front of my car and I mouthed a relieved "Thank you" to her while she was on her phone.

When my friend picked up the phone after I had scampered past the huge gate, I said, "I thought I had an issue but I'm good now." I rushed to get out as if worried I'd be stuck and on the drive home was just praying thankfully. I thought, I would have been there forever waiting. Or had to make my friend drive me home. Or pay for an uber. WOW. How weird that I didn't know they had a main gate, I'd never seen it closed. I didn't have my key card, which I always do, and a car pulled in to let me in as I had almost begun to panic. WOW. I felt like the universe gave me a pat on the back after the musical therapy as an affirmation that things would keep being muddled through and I would prevail.

Music has always been a form of therapy but after last night it just reminded me that I'm at my best when I'm around live music. My voice is hoarse today, I'm exhausted and look haggard but it was all worth it for the dose of musical serenity. I feel blessed. It was worth every dime for the babysitter and every extra yawn. If you ever want to know me well, take me to a concert, it nourishes my soul to be around music and especially a good crowd that appreciates it as well.

With that said I hope to lock in an early bed time as my party days are numbered but feel so blessed to have had last night as another part of living my best life in the books. I may not have gotten a ticket stub, t-shirt or bumper sticker but I got the full concert experience and had some good karma after. Now back to reality. 

The Soundtrack Of Our Lives

I'm one of those people who believes that "music is the soundtrack of our lives." I can remember an exact moment when a song was everything to me, and silly moments around music too, yet somehow I forget why I walked into the room and sometime, just to eat lunch. This is my ridiculous truth.

This morning I had to switch cars with my husband. His is, as I so lovingly put it, "A beater car," with an old 6-CD changer. So he has since raided our CD cases and snuck in some memorable classics for my commute.

Years ago for Valentine's day I made him a mix. That thing might be 14 years old but it has so many of "our songs." What's funny is just the other day I was listening to a song by Coldplay and was immediately taken back to sneaking out of the house for a "walk" with my walkman-discman thingy and going under this HUGE willow tree to sneak cigarettes when I was still living with my dad.

So when my husband perfectly planted this mix to play, I totally had all the flash backs and all the feels. Mostly because music is so versatile. If you put on an album you were obsessed with 15 years ago, I guarantee it will speak to new levels and old if you rock on with it today. Some things are timeless.

Now I'm also that person whose love for music is far more lyric-based than melody based. I legitimately feel that Simon and Garfunkel is serious poetry and, although I love the melody and beats also, the words are everything to me. This often gets me a bad rap for loving all the "sad" or "weird" songs.

As much as I wanted to be a Punk Rock Princess in my late teens, I was far too little to get beat up in the most pits and living in the Pacific Northwest at the time left me ripe for the Indie music scene. So, with my punk rock buddies and boyfriends, I was always the girl exposing the new indie talents to them, whether they liked it or not.

I made my then-boyfriend-now-husband appreciate Death Cab for Cutie on an entirely different level. To this day we still see them live and can always agree on listening to their albums if we can agree on nothing else that day. Our big wedding song was "I Will Follow You Into The Dark," most likely their most infamous hit.

Most people complain that this is a "depressing" song but hubby and I agreed it was darkly gorgeous, succinct and real. Both of us have struggled and will always struggle with our faith and to us, this song was just raw truth in love and partnership. Of course this song made the mix and I listened to it on the drive in this morning, singing right along.

Music will always be my most wonderful and faithful companion and spans so many genres for me. Hubby also unearthed an old mix from an ex-roommate and I instantly remembered the origin of it and how much I loved it from the moment when it was burned onto that CD.

Among other CDs available for me to listen were Matchbook Romance, which made me want my old pink "Chucks" on, and the soundtrack to Across The Universe, an epic movie set to Beatles Music, followed by the ever amazing band, Cake. 

It's so wonderfully funny when you hear certain music and think "I completely forgot about this band, song, album, mix, etc!" I slowed down and just remembered all the moments associated with the tunes and felt grateful for the soundtrack.

Hubby and I have the 10 year mark looming for our engagement and wedding anniversary, but I'm not going to sit here and act like it's been cupcakes and rainbows. Sometimes it's music like the songs on the mix that remind you of how far we've come and what we can push through. Musical reminders are super important, in my humble opinion.

There are some tried and true musicians that have kept me sane over the years, no doubt about that, but any band that I love is definitely part of my life's soundtrack, my story and probably contributed some kind of theme song to my days.

I have made friends through music in more ways than one. I have kept close friendships through music as well and I seriously wish I could be a professional concert-goer and make money from it. One of the best times of my life was writing reviews for Creative Loafing and getting to go to free shows. I saw so many bands I would have never been able to afford and had a blast taking it all in.

For me, music is the soundtrack of my life through the good memories and the bad. It has gotten me through the best of times and the worst of times and is an epic anti-depressant, therapeutic healer, and friend for the lonely times. I'll probably write about this over and over, but to me, it cannot be stressed, exclaimed and explained enough! Rock on, readers!