Expired Pantry Items, Expired Expectations

As we are gearing up on our first legit road trip as a family, I've been combing the pantry for things to pack. One thing I hate, is buying extra stuff you don't need, when you could have just brought some home supplies so I'm over-preparing, over-packing and overly doing all the things. As I was pantry poaching I found some things that needed attention as about to expire or expired but just recently so still edible. 

There was a huge can of pumpkin that needed attention. And this the season for pumpkin spice everything so pumpkin bread was happening. I had the large can of Libby's Pumpkin so, 4 loaves were happening and hubby brought home the few small items I needed to complete the task. Now I'm bloated on pumpkin bread and sending away loaves left and right so I don't become an actual pumpkin. With the baking all day, however, came all the insight.

Yesterday I admitted out loud that my family is "the poorest," of our friends. I don't say this as we are actually poor or going without, but compared to our friends, we have lesser financial freedoms and luxuries. I didn't say this in a mean, or sad or "pity us," way. In fact, I said it in an embracing way.

This has all come to light in proximity to our trip. We are staying about an hour away from all others migrating for our friends' wedding, because it was about $50 a night cheaper and we can't afford to try and keep up with everyone else in party mode. While we had a blast in NYC and PA, I learned quite a lesson about our travel mode: less is way more.

In NYC we saw very little and our daughter was more obsessed with The Subway, Central Park and just saying "I was in NYC," than taking in any of the epic things there. We were extremely well entertained and taken care of, but mostly she was just happy hanging out and taking it all in. We didn't need to do all the "stuff."

I also learned that we need a home base crash pad that is NOT a hotel. Hotels are fabulous but overpriced for a place with no kitchen, no readily available food, and no real space. We were lucky enough to stay with my best friend in PA and not only was she the hostess with the "mostess," but she gave us a place to play, rest, keep food and water, do laundry, and just "be" in between visits and mini golf and all the other things.

For this trip, the far away booking of the condo with indoor outdoor pool on Hilton Head Island, was based on price and mileage. I found out about a month ago how long it would take us to get to and from the wedding venue panicked that the hubby would be annoyed. Instead he seemed more excited to be away from it all.

The wedding is in Savannah. When you Google Savannah all the gorgeous images come up. The brick streets, the parks, ghost tours, the history, the food. After our NYC experience, I made the decision not to torture myself with dragging the child all over to restaurants and experiences she didn't care about, which made our destination to stay even more appealing for the wedding trip.

On the one hand we'll be away from friends, but as the poorest of the friend group, I am breathing easier knowing I don't have to go to expensive restaurants, not be able to enjoy anything because I'm obsessing about the costs, and then trying to keep up with everyone for what to do. In Hilton Head we can make breakfast, dinner or sandwiches to take with us, or maybe grab some food at a cheap local place that won't make us stress. 

We don't drink. I don't stay up very late. A vacation should be about family time, and a reboot, and keeping up with any other expectations of what it should be, is no longer a "thing," to me. If we get asked why we stayed so far? Easy, we couldn't afford to be in Savannah city proper and we found a place more suited to our needs in a different area of interest. If we get asked why we aren't going to do all the things and eat at all the places? Easy, we can't afford that kind of stuff. We'll hit the beach, the park, a new preserve, and maybe splurge for ice cream later.

The expiration of the pantry items was like a call to action for "make something or waste something." It dawned on me that this upcoming trip was a call to action for "make the best use of this time for what works for you, and forget the expectations of others."

I'm sure other people don't carry the weight of this stuff on them as I do, but if you even slightly do, you'll know exactly what I mean. Expired pantry items bother me because I put money into those and we didn't use them in a timely manner or properly utilize them. Expectations are the same in that you put your hopes, ideas and scenarios into something and when you don't utilize the time you have, poof it's gone and you leave disappointed with the final product.

The difference is, I'm ready to hit the expiration date of my expectations. No more of that crap needs to weigh me down. I'm not always ready to just toss things from the pantry. Some dates have more wiggle room! 

As I have a two day work week in front of me, I'm embracing these ideas and many others. As I'm packing and planning and handling vacation expectations, I'm just ready to be with my family a bit.
Tomorrow will be my last post of this week and I'll come back with stories galore next Monday!

Detour From A Diatribe

I just deleted two paragraphs worth of veiled complaints. Why? I don't want to be that person. I sat in therapy and spoke about formative moments. My therapist called me out on why I might be so sensitive to people deemed "complainers," and why that might be a trigger for me. Not today, complaints, not today.

Staying grateful can feel really intense. Life can be incredibly wobbly at times. It doesn't, however, warrant bitter diatribes and forgetfulness of how lucky we are to be in it, here and now.

It started with something simple, and kinda stupid. Vans emailed me that the full Nightmare Before Christmas collection was available. I've been a Tim Burton fan as long as I can remember. I loved Edward Scissorhands and Big Fish, Beetlejuice, and everything about his directing. I found it all darkly beautiful. Nightmare Before Christmas has lived in infamy on this list. My make-up bag is Jack Skellington. I have watches and jewelry with Jack and Sally. I have the soundtrack on vinyl. Our version of Elf On The Shelf is "Sandy Klaws" aka, Jack Skellington dressed as Santa.

Anyway, it's a beautiful but extremely expensive collection and Vans have always been my coveted and go to shoes since I can remember. All of mine have since been destroyed by wear but I loved them all literally to pieces. I'd love a pair, but they are completely out of the budget and I'm sure they'll sell fast.

At first this really got to me. I never really buy myself non-essential items that aren't coffee and I rarely spend more than $30 on myself for anything. I get a pair of running or gym shoes a year, and occasionally a re-up on clothes but I do so with as little money as possible. I am frugal to a flaw almost, aka cheap. 

So I had my whiny moments. I was trying to "math out" how to get them, but alas, nope. Plus I knew I would buyer's remorse them if I walked out of the store with a bag and receipt. I can't handle spending that kind of money on something so non-essential and I get upset when I spend money on myself.

I'm sure this all sounds overly dramatic but this is part of my anxiety. And definitely a struggle when it comes to my depression. I used to shop when I was sad often. Sometimes with no care for the fiscal consequences. Well, since baby and job changes, I have put myself last-er than last and shop no more. My mom has no concept of living within your means and pushes "new" stuff on me and it's just a heavier reminder of "don't do that."

I get all my weird rationality quirks from my dad. My dad will wear the same jeans, shirts and underpants for a decade but will drive a brand new car and never miss an event deemed worth doing. My dad also never goes on the cheap when it comes to FOOD. My dad used to literally repeat "Just because it's on sale doesn't mean you NEED it."

Last year was the first Black Friday I've ever shopped in my life, and I just got presents for the kid and stocked up on shoes for her to go through because they were super cheap. On average my husband gets about 3 to 4 times the "whatever money" I do weekly. I always put my "luxury" wants on the back burner and always will.

I had started this whole bitter diatribe of why shouldn't I get to have the damned shoes and thought, WHOA WHOA WHOA. You gotta stay grateful and in the moment. So many people don't have what we have and I'll be damned if I take it for granted.

Because life is hilarious, it's not even actually about the shoes. That's the thing. The shoes are just a metaphor for me feeling completely overwhelmed and trying to keep it all together. If I'm being completely honest about current situations in life, I'm feeling as though things are about to get more complicated and I'm extremely stressed.

It's all coming to the surface in my obsession with the having of the shoes. Let me explain. In my youth I worked hard to get what I wanted and I've carried this into my growth. So if I were 20 and I wanted those shoes, I'd pick up 3 extra shifts and go get them, wearing them proudly until they disintegrated off of my feet. In my adulthood, I don't have time for such frivolous things. I'm a salaried gal and I have important financial goals I need to achieve for my sanity and those shoes don't fit into the mix.

Mostly all of this is a big ass mourning session for the loss of my youth. I've got a 6 year old, almost 7 year old daughter, a mortgage, car payments, credit card debt to pay off and responsibilities out the ass. I'm pining over old concert shirts, old mix cds and Tim Burton shoes. Part of me thinks if I can dress the part I can be 22 year old Alison again. I miss adventures and being carefree and fearless. I miss napping when I wanted and watching 6 hours of Netflix drinking cheap wine and having Chinese Food delivered.

So deep down I think if I spoil myself with some custom Vans, that pre-soon-to-be-soccer-mom self, will arise and come back to keep growing, transitioning, struggling Alison company as she figures out all her shit. It's a beautifully painful realization. 

I took a detour from the diatribe because I wanted to be better than that. I endured a recent negative social session or "bitch sesh" if you will and it completely ripped me apart. I've been distracted and obsessing about unanswered texts and planning play dates to take away from all the adulting I must do. 

Complaining is the easy part. It's the easiest coping mechanism on the planet. Often we don't even have to think about it. Riding out the waves after are wipe-out is considerably harder. Staying positive when you're wobbling and feeling as though life is murky? That's difficult. So I took a detour from the diatribe and ended up here, possibly enlightened? I'm a bit unsure. The beauty of it is, I'm happy to be unsure about where I am and what to do next because I'm positive it is part of the process. Somehow there is less stress and more gratefulness in knowing that I don't have to have anything figured out, but instead just enjoy my Friday and push through. 

Mentality Matters

Yesterday in my last 90 minutes of work, a particularly prickly contributor I work with, sent me something to edit and send out and it sat in my inbox longer than he would prefer. He didn't actually call me out on it, I had felt badly because I was distracted with other work things.

Internally I was worried he would call and chew me out, or maybe a boss would get pissed about it. Immediately after I published it, I started my "I'm sorry" email. I started to type it twice and then stopped myself. Why? Because apologizing for being human, doing other aspects of my job and not being at his beck and call, didn't seem worth it. Would it even make me feel better?

I stopped and thought, why am I apologizing? This stuff happens. It's called life. What do I have to apologize for? Oh nothing really, but missing something that could have used more timely attention but it all went out anyway. I calmed myself down and got myself home.

It was my mentality about it that made it bigger than it was. Huh, quite a novel idea that it's about your personal mentality towards an issue that makes it "extra." This isn't a new idea. Some people carry this genius with them and don't have such anxious upsets and responses towards things, but for me this faint "A-ha" moment gave me pause.

I got home with my tiny person and got my evening rolling and by bed time had gone to bed forgetting about the whole issue. I woke up, remembered I had to get more blood drawn and thought "Shit, I might hear about that late update." After a successful blood draw I got to work late and heard all of nothing about it. Not a word.

When the contributor's number came across the call ID I was sure it was a verbal lashing waiting to happen. Nope. He said nothing. So any amount of upset and stress was self-inflicted and I pushed my mentality towards other things and it all turned out just fine. Huh. I may be onto something.

See my mentality can be volatile and fragile. Some days I can handle all of life's curve balls with perfect precision in hitting back or catch and pitch. Some days I cry over a burrito, or because I can't find a straw. Some people blame lady troubles or sensitivity, but mostly it is my mentality that makes all the difference.

When I mentally "let go" of stuff, it makes me feel legitimately lighter. Like when I stopped feeling badly for not being an amazing volunteer, I felt like I lost five pounds. I was like, "Oh wait I can just go live my life now and be kind? I don't have to stress over arranging something that makes me anxious? COOL!"

I'm that person who views an unanswered text as a "Fuck off." That whole "no response is a response" I changed to "No response means go the fuck away." Excuse the language but mentally, that is where I usually go. When that happens, I get defensive and down on myself, but lately instead of making justifications and excuses for the non-responding offender, I just attempt to change my mentality. Instead of "Fuck off," it could be "Feeling overwhelmed," or "meant to revisit the message later," to "busy."

While I preach low to no expectations, I also hope for the best and prepare for the worst. This I do to a fault. I mentally prepare for all possible outcomes to the point of exhaustion. I'm ready for all avenues of response or lack thereof. Apparently I get this from my dad, or so he claims.

My mentality is one of my greatest struggles. Confidence, strength, conviction, and sureness are not things I just have. So much of my mentality is wrapped in my trauma, I'm realizing. Because of past moments of standing up for myself and being down-played or degraded, I have less push to consistently be my own advocate. Because of trying and failing something previously, I hesitate to try again. 

Most of this stuff is human, some of it is awesomely Alison. What I realized yesterday in the mentality mattering moment was just how much I can do, with a little adjustment in my outlook on things. I am well aware I impose 90% of my stress and anxiety on myself, all on my own. It's like a gut reaction.What I'm still learning is how to mentally alleviate some of that, on my own. 

It's not a "just don't think about it," or, "don't let it bother you," type of situation but as I say to my daughter regularly, I feel it's more a "Thank you for sharing your feelings that you're sad, how can I help with that?" If I say, even to myself, "This is making me feel anxious," I can self-soothe with, "well what can we do about it."

For the contributor reaction issue, I had my list of excuses backlogged but instead I said to myself "It went out, I was busy with other things and not attentive to my email." No further explanation needed. For unresponsive friends or family members, I usually bring myself down from anxious whims by saying "Okay, you asked them to do x,y,z, they now have to respond according and if they don't, you just go on with your day. It's not an end all, be all thing."

My mentality matters a LOT when it comes to my ability to process my depression and anxiety. Not surprisingly, this aligns with my inner dialogue, my self acceptance, my letting go and my dealing with disappointment and expectations. So this reverts back to many, many other blog posts. This makes me feel happy about the cultivation of what matters and today, my mentality matters!

These aren't "easy" conclusions, acceptances and ideas to just keep in your back pocket but I continue to love my growth, my healing and all of the discoveries that come along with them. Perhaps in losing some blood today I made more room for some insight. Here we go thoughtful Thursday. Let's do this!

If You Really Listen

So I've been in this deep musical mode and I'm hours away from digging out my entire collection to dive even deeper and I had this strange, personal, and likely embarrassing memory to blog about, of course. True to form, this was all sparked by the tunes. 

When I was 18 I had this insane crush on the wrong guy. He was awesome we were just not compatible. This was an incredible pattern in my youth. From the neighbor across the street who was super dreamy and he thought I was the most annoying girl ever (full disclosure, I was) (also my best friend is laughing reading this right now) to my best guy friend when I was 16 who was completely and utterly gay and not interested in anything about me being a woman, but we just kind of "got each" other, all the way to age 18 and this kid was a fixture in my early childhood that reemerged in my college years. Of course I thought this was meant to be.

Anyway, I could blog about him because man did I make an epic mess of that one, but the moral of THIS particular post is the fact that he and I went on many, many, many road trips together. Most often to visit his family, we had concentrated car time of 2.5 hours each way. Of course I had to know and like all the bands he did and subtly force my music at him as often as possible.

He was the WORST at reading me. I could be visibly pouting and he'd be oblivious. So one time we're getting ready to go on this drive and I do it, I make...THE PLAYLIST. This mix CD had all the songs on it about how I felt, and most of them by HIS favorite bands, total bonus, and it was carefully constructed so he would completely fall in love with me by the road trip's end and then happily ever after. It was the best plan ever and couldn't possibly fail, right?

This didn't even remotely work. He skipped the songs the meant the most and unveiled my true feelings for him and even fell asleep once or twice. Of course I just sang them along to myself with all the damned feels, pouring out my soul to essentially just myself. I can now laugh hysterically about my young, naive ways and how this was a total chick move, which of course epicly failed.

Anyone who knows the complete ME, knows that I take my music very seriously. I may not be addicted to clothes shopping and having new sheets with matching duvets, but I seriously almost took out a loan and cancelled all our family vacations this year to take me and my hubby to the last Warped Tour in California to be gross and uncomfortable for 3 days of raw, live music that would officially retire us from all punk rock persuasions. 

Ironically, I still make playlists, mix CDs and communicate like this. I think I do this in an attempt to be more heard, but sometimes you have to really listen, which can be tough for people. Honestly, the reactions to the songs or albums I pass along are everything to me and I note them carefully.

My best friend and I communicate almost solely through Hanson songs and remind each other of the ones we may have forgotten in trying times. My husband and I trade songs randomly just for fun, it could be old, it could be new or it could be weird ones we would have never thought one another could find. I could send around music to the point of becoming really annoying, so I usually just engulf myself in playlists.

When my long lost friend, previously blogged about, rekindled our friendship, I sent him a care package with something like 7 burned CD mixes introducing him to all my favorite bands and songs and then wrote descriptions about what the songs meant to me and then why I sent them his way. He's a good dude so he actually read and listened. He may still have them if a girlfriend didn't find them and trash them!

Whenever I'm going through, well anything, I find my way through it with music. So when I feel friendships or relationships strained, and definitely when I'm stressed and anxious, you'll find new or revamped playlists in my Spotify for me to get me through the day. Since I'm still very much in CD mode this just sparks ideas for "mix tapes" to burn and helps me revisit my version of classics of my thirty plus years as a music lover on this planet.

I make playlists for friends, family and situations that no one will ever hear, but often I will send a song or two as a way to say things I can't find my way to communicating properly otherwise. A couple years ago a friend and I had a "song off," where we traded favorite songs and notes on why they were awesome. It's a great way to learn new tunes and share feelings, no matter how subtle or strong.

I did this even further back and exchanged Spotify lists. I made mine in like 10 minutes and it was thoughtful and real and said everything about me. The returned one from my buddy was definitely a compilation of music that was enjoyable but not many of the songs had a message, or if they did it most likely wasn't the message that was actually being sung. Since then I've sent my buddy a few songs trying to convey some pretty rough feelings I'd been going through and the response was that it wasn't a favorite kind of music and couldn't get into it. I laughed on my drive home about that, because clearly it hadn't occurred that the song send was a way of indicating I wanted help outta my "funk."

If you REALLY listen to songs exchanged and shared, they say WORLDS about me, myself, and my situation. I know this isn't the case for everyone. For some people, music is just music. For me, music is where I go when I can't write or formulate the words and I feel it needs to be taken to the next level. 

I've actually always dreamt of being a music video producer or the person that selects songs for soundtracks and scenes in shows and movies. I think that music can change any dynamic quickly. Something sad could be changed into a more calm situation with the right song. I firmly believe that music is the soundtrack of my life.

If you really listen to what I choose to put on, or a song I send you, the messages can be multifaceted, even complicated depending on my mood. I take lyrics very seriously and Google them to no end to make sure I know what they are saying. Music can change meaning over the years, and in incredible ways. When I was 17 and listening to the Beatles, they were jaunty, catchy tunes. Then I saw "Across the Universe" and really started listening to their collection and they're crazy deep and insightful. 

The songs that I thought meant something different in my youth, have aged with me and now hit me in new ways. I love how timeless music is, no matter what medium you're listening to. I remember loving the Backstreet Boys because their songs were catchy and they were all over MTV and then when my parents got divorced my dad was explaining to me that most of those songs were about heartbreak and break ups and failed relationships. I had to really listen because the music videos just had dance moves to distract you from it being kind of depressing subject matter. 

I even always loved depressing music though, even when I was particularly happy. I love how music could just kick you right in the feels and make you succumb to all the emotions you may have been avoiding. I've cried at plenty of concerts and not in a fan girl way, but just because watching it all happen live can be intense and spiritual.

I'm also kind of a harsh critic. Now I'm not one to say what is better or best or that certain music "sucks," but for me it is all about substance. I knew I was getting old when I heard Rihanna's song "Work" and thought, "Well this is just noise. What is she even saying?"

I know why songs get popular and hit Billboard, but I also know that some artists are really saying things and conveying things to their fans, while others are just in it for the showmanship. For me it is all about THE MESSAGE. I try to really listen, because if you really listen, a whole new musical world can open up before you.

If I ever send you a song, you should know that I have something to convey with it. I'm your go to person for when you're having a bad day, I'll find the song to illustrate what you're going through. I believe that music is a huge part of healing. Music makes me a better person and I actually get depressed if I don't listen to it enough. 

We have songs for when we are happy, sad, mad, in love, in a break-up, confused, and so on and so forth. Some songs are just silly and catchy and some will stop you in your tracks and change the face of your day, or even your life:

Natalie Portman was right, by the way, that one song did actually change my life. Not only is Garden State in my top 5 all time soundtracks, but because of this movie and this scene, I'm a hardcore Shins fan. One day I hope to get my favorite quote from that song, "New Slang," tattooed on me someday.

  

So here I am typing and I'm listening to this playlist I made for today as I'm sifting through mental closure of unresponsiveness and moving on from old versions of myself while growing into new places and phases. Each song is on there saying something specific. Some lyrics are meant to be heard and understood verbatim, some are more metaphoric, and some of just the ideas and melodies of general feels and emotions racing through me.

Sometimes I make playlists and think about if you really listened to them on a chilly evening by a fire pit and curled up to talk about why they are the best, how transforming it could be, knowing full well those nights are super rare. Call me a hippie but all of my best Oregon associations with smoking weed were mostly around listening to albums and hippie dancing to them. 

I truly believe, wholeheartedly that there is a soundtrack to accompany everything in life. It could be a road trip, a weekend getaway, a rough conversation, a family event, a life change, or just a bike ride. There are songs that take you away within every situation to where you should be. 

So, if you REALLY listen to music, and if you REALLY listen when someone shares a song or album with you, you can learn an immense amount about anything from what they are personally going through, to what their taste in music is, to what they want to say to you but maybe lack the best way to do it. This isn't to say that if you get sent a love song that the sender is actually in love with you but it's a great conversation starter, regardless.

It's my advice that you REALLY listen, and if you do, drink it in, pay attention and get into that groove!

The CD Case

I had to borrow my husband's beater car or "hoopdee" as I like to call it, when he took my car in for servicing last week. He has an old Lexus he bought off of a friend. It runs, but as my daughter so lovingly claims, "It smells like fart." It's definitely "worn in." The hoopdee happens to have a  6 CD changer and when we have to swap, not only does he clean it, but he'll put in certain CDs that I might like.

He was sneaky and put in some of my obsession ones. He put in mixes I made him way before living together, let alone before marriage, kid and this life we are living now. He put in some of my most favorite bands. How dare he!

When I got to listen to my favorite CDs I remembered just how much I love putting in a disc and listening to it in it's entirety. I forgot how nice it is to replay a song if it hits a mood or to skip one that might take you back to a moment you don't want to re-live. It was a luxury in some strange way.

We live in a bluetooth, hands free, Pandora Music, Spotify, SoundCloud, and iTunes world. It seems some of the simple things in life have gotten lost fast. After the car swap, I grabbed my big ass CD case, and I put in some legit discs on in my car. Most new cars don't even come with CD players anymore. I think that kinda sucks, because at the end of the day, maybe bluetooth won't connect or your phone isn't working, and you just wanna listen to that old favorite CD. What a shame that they are diminishing that technology. Hell, I still listen to a record player weekly!

We have an upcoming road trip and I demanded, only CDs be happening as our soundtrack from state to state. I've been listening to only CDs since my car was serviced and not only did I forget about some great songs or mixes, but I had forgotten how many CDs I actually have, and this is only one case out of many.

The memories that come from these discs are intense, and awesome all at the same time:

I found an old Modest Mouse CD. Most people know this song pictured above. When this song came on I remembered listening to it in my Toyota Echo, my first car, and crying while shoving cookies in my mouth driving home from my first real break-up. I was 18, he was 22 and he attempted to make off with my car, my laptop but successfully made off with a bunch of my cash and definitely some dignity. He wasn't the best dude. I found out he was addicted to pills among having many other issues. It wasn't love but it still hurt. I later found apology letters in my trunk, written to his entire household, roommates and all, and nothing written for me. 

When that came on it morphed me from my normal commute home to being back on the winding Oregon 1-5 roads, wanting to be home in my apartment to pick up the pieces. It was weird how many memories just engulfed me around popping in that disc and listening to that song with the windows down.

This morning I busted out some Ben Folds Five, which is different from Ben Folds by the way.

My Ben Folds obsession started when I spent most of the summer before my senior year with my sister, and my brother in law had his older CDs. Ben Folds went solo and I listened to "Rocking The Suburbs" on bus rides and car rides between Portland and Eugene, or trips back to Florida on repeat. When he came to Portland when I was 17, I made my dad buy me a ticket and drop me off to see him live. I could still remember singing these songs loudly at the concerts and listening to them until I was sick of them. I still make a point of seeing him live whenever he comes to town.

Even in CD case picture here. That one above that says "sports conditioning" is from my days of training to be a Step Instructor at the YMCA. You just never know what you'll find, and the memories that come from it, are the best.

My music has always followed me and I feel grateful to have physical discs, although some are scratched and don't play very well. I love Spotify because you can make mixes but if you want to hear that ONE song on repeat? You're out of luck. My iPod died long ago, which was the next best thing, but now with Pandora and Spotify you're supposed to get the feel that iPods and CDs are obsolete. I disagree.

With my current CD case revisit,  I feel like the new technologies make us miss out in actuality. Some CDs are actually made to be listened to in order. Some artists order them as they wish for specific reasons. While shuffle is a good thing from time to time, some musical masterpieces are put together in the way they are meant to be heard. You cannot listen to The Decemberists "The Hazards of Love" on shuffle or it loses the storytelling. 

I stopped listening to Pandora years ago because I really hated that Pandora decided that when I wanted to listen to Taylor Swift, that meant then I had to listen to Rascall Flats and Florida Georgia Line and whatever. Pandora decided that if I wanted to listen to 80's, that I enjoyed solely 80's hair metal. I also don't like the idea of paying for anything that's essentially just a new kind of radio. Radio is free!

I love the 97X alternative Tampa radio station but they play the same 8 songs every hour and then randomly intersperse other "oldies" within them. I really like Billie Eilish but not 16 times a day, just the same one or two songs. At least with the CD I could skip the popular ones, right?

My recurring issue with Spotify is, they play the same songs in rotation if you listen too much and they only play 30 minutes in a row of music at best. You could listen all day and you can't go more than 30 minutes without an ad. Ads don't bother me so much but every so often when you have a long run or car ride, you don't want to be fiddling with your phone to get uninterrupted minutes. I don't pay for the service because, why not just by the CDs if I want to listen on repeat? 

See, I don't pay for music services because I'd rather spend that money to buy a CD or go to a concert. I don't want to pay Spotify $8 a month to suggest music I should like just because I put some Maroon 5 on a workout list. I want to pay the ARTISTS who make my beloved music as a thank you in more ways than one, so I'd rather just have a disc or go watch them live. Plus physically owning the music is different than renting it from Spotify, regardless.

Going through my CD case has been a memory-filled journey. You realize forgot about "that band," or "that one song," and everything comes back. I have a photographic memory so I used to know the order of my CD case and know if someone took one of my CDs, especially without me asking. I remember being so annoyed if they came back scratched or destroyed. I remember hours combing used CD stores trying to find the bands I needed or wanted because I had to have the entire collected works. 

For me, music is the key to about 90% of my memories. I could remember a moment, or an entire event based around a song and then it opens those floodgates and away we go! Sometimes it brings up painful memories, I can't lie, but some of them are necessary, and still good in my humble opinion.

As much as I love making playlist after playlist, from time to time just popping in that disc and listening to the full album is it's own kind of magic. I have soundtracks and burned mixes and full albums, EPs and so on and so forth.

I plan on getting hubby to dig out the lot and to fully engulf myself in my discs for the rest of the year, why? Well, this year has been healing and filled with all manners of growth but sometimes it helps to rekindle some old parts of yourself in the process. See, music has always been my safe space. I got caught up in Spotify this year, just making playlists about sad stuff or missing old friends, and with my CD cases every musical mood can shift at my will, with a quick disc change. I still use Spotify for my daughter's kiddo playlist and also for my workouts, but overall, I really want to get back into my CDs. 

It's funny to me how it all fell together, when I think about it. It's funny how I just opened that CD case and dove in. I quickly found a comfort I had forgotten. Sometimes when we are in the middle of transforming and growing, we need some roots revisited. For me, that's my CD case. For me, my music gets to the deepest of depths. My music is and will always be part of my process for anything. It will also always be blog-worthy!