i wanted to want to be kind

Here's the thing. Mike travels. It sucks. But we have learned to deal with it and pray like an insane amount to know what to do to get him home again with his family every night where he belongs.

Until that happens, it's tough putting 3 kids to bed on my own. But I don't resent him for it. I did in the beginning. But I know he wants to be home helping me.

So there I am at 7:30pm sharp wrestling the baby into jammies while she cries and I sweat. Then I move on to the middle child who I have to chase and pin down; further sweating. The oldest is refusing the turn off video games after 7 warnings and now requires physical removal, gripes and huffs off to his room to refuse the follow 5 steps that are his bed time routine.

Sometimes I have to have to break the routine and take a break from sweating. Tonight I decided it was music night. I collected the musical toy bin and we crowded around my drum set. And we rocked out. Loudly. It was awesome. Every mother needs a decent drum kit. Sylvia was on the maracas. Evan played the floor tom. And Zane was on keyboards. And superbonus: my drumming didn't make Sylvia cry this time!

In other news, Brainbloodvolume was a nice album to run to today. Who knew? Shrink wrap the planet.

tunes

Cage The Elephant is an alright band. This song has a catchy tune. But the video is lame.

vid

At the Bally's in California there was a poster on the wall of a very fit, healthy looking woman in work out clothing. The picture of her was flattering, she was doing a kick towards the lens of the camera and her balance and positioning of the rest of her body looked strong. Like the way my sensei would stand when demonstrating kicks in my college Ju Jitsu class. In the photo-turned-poster she wore a pair of shorts that were of the variety most of us would not look so great in. I was struck by how much motivation I gathered as I looked at this poster during my time at the gym. And while genetics play a great deal in the way our bodies are shaped, it is still my job to be healthy and exercise regardless of the genes I have and how closely I am able to (or not able to) realistically resemble the person in that picture. She was not my goal, looking like her was not my dream. But feeling the way I know I feel when I am at my optimal exercise routine, filling my physical potential with wellness, that was the feeling the poster translated to me.

Some might have found it offensive. The shorts were short, her shoulders were barren, and much of her long, fit legs were revealed. At times I worry I might be the wrong kind of Mormon mother to not instantly compute vulgarity from the image. But I don't really worry much about that for very long, which causes me another round of worry. And then I go to the gym and decide to forget all about it and carry on with something productive.

So this video for the song Lie by Black Light Burns came on today at the gym in Arizona. And again, a woman appears (two actually) in clothing less than modest. And my instant and honest reaction was how awesome their cute little undies are in this video. And how cute a healthy and fit little bum bum looks in something like that. And wouldn't an outfit like that be a nice way to welcome My Mister home after a long week apart as the children slumber in their beds? Is something wrong with me? Is it normal to draw inspiration and motivation from images most other Mormon women might consider offensive? These are rhetorical questions, btw.

Don't get me wrong, I don't wish to fill my boys' heads (or future girl) with the perfect image of what the world thinks the perfect shape of a woman should be. I would not display these images in my home as a signal of priority over the obvious priorities we strive for as a family. But I do think it is important to take good care of one's body and to be a prime example to my children as much as possible. I have work to do in this area at my dinner table with the food I provide them. In addition to a regular exercise routine. I also love to see moms at the park running around with their kids playing football with them in the grass (those that no longer have toddlers still in need of constant watch). I want to be that mom, the one that is out there running and playing with them.

And hey the times I have been happiest with my fitness level had little to do with outward image I got as a result and entirely more to do with inward energy and thorough joy. Which leads to even better bedroom 'aerobics', overall better mental health and abundant patience available to my family. Getting a tiny, frilly pair of undies to wear behind closed doors for Mike with some hopeful tight buns peeking from the bottom of them is just a perk in the deal that might add some additional motivation to the already-important- for-a-million-reasons topic. That's all I'm sayin. Enjoy the video linked above. It's not for the easily offended at heart. And p.s. I mostly thought of Mike because of the cheeks I aspire for in addition to the sound of this band I thought he would really like. They remind him of Stabbing Westward.

(sounds like: The Cure, Queens of the Stoneage, Nitzer Ebb, PJ Harvey, NIN, Ministry, Bauhaus, Fiona Apple, Limp Bizkit, From First To Last, Skinny Puppy, The Strokes, Interpol, Massive Attack, Peter Murphy, Portishead, Tool, Aphex Twin, The Police, Radiohead, Concrete Blonde, Duran Duran, etc.)

everytime i fell on you

I like this band Chairlift. Even though the song Bruises has this iffy almost yodling bit I might have suggested they drop a notch. She has a great voice, kind of like Ivy and Dido or Frente. The boy singing part remindes me of The Beloved a little bit. A nice sound for a day when you have all the windows open to air out your space and clear your head.

but still i'm sane

Matt and Kim is an adorable band.

I just double dog dare you to try to listen without doing the running man in the middle of the room and laughing out loud until you pee your pants. That's what we like to do, anyway. Happy music to say the least. It helps in my heart they formed in Brooklyn, there's always a little special place in my heart for Brooklyn artists of all kinds. But only for good ones.

I love the most how happy she is (dare I assume her name is Kim? Would that be too presumptuous?). That's how I feel when I play my drums. I can't stop feeling overly happy. Only....I normally wear my bra. But only because if I didn't they might fall onto the snare drum and mess up my sic beats.

once i ran to you. now i run from you

I'm sort of tired of playlist right now, so I'll make you work for the music I am enjoying in the event you want to hear it. And by work for it I mean to click the link instead of turning on your computer speakers. Fair? Fair.

*******

Anberlin

Although it probably won't make our list, I think Anberlin would be a really cool girl name.

I like the sound. More edge and testosterone coming through than much of what I have been listening to lately. The drummer inspires me. I bet I can play this song.

See vid here for Feel Good Drag.

*******

Coconut Records

Just hearts. Sweetness. Soft. Gentle. Rainy day music. Pretty.

Vid for West Coast here. This song makes me wish I could put myself in Mike's suitcase.

********

She Wants Revenge

Reminds me of Interpol mixed up with some 80's beats.

Joaquin Phoenix directed Tear You Apart. Not the best video ever. Actually kind of ruins the song. So just listen with your eyes closed.

Here is the vid for True Romance.

I keep waiting for the chorus of Soft Cell's Tainted Love to pick up with each of their songs and it makes me happy. I loved that song as a kid.

where were they?

So I lived in Walnut Creek, California for some time before we came to settle here in Arizona. Walnut Creek was a quiet, beautiful little town. When people ask us what it was like living there, the best way to answer is by explaining it's what we imagine the Garden of Eden is like. Each day was perfect. Each day we spent time outside enjoying nature. We never heard thunder. I never saw lightening. Even the rain was pretty and enjoyable.

It was a rather predictable, humdrum sort of place. No shady characters, no urban edge, not much varied from the daily flow of WC. Except one day I went running. And instead of the usual dog walkers I would greet on my jog, I saw excitement happening at our favorite family park. At Heather Farms Park I saw camera crews, boys with tattoos, goofy 70s dressed kids, and all sorts of amps and musical gear. I forgot much about it, until I just saw this video.


It doesn't make any sense. The band Every Avenue is from Michigan, but I am 98% certain I watched them film that exact part with the pimpsters carrying the cooler. I am disappointed I missed the slip n slide, I might have snuck in for a ride. For no other reason than they possibly filmed this video in one of my favorite spots, they get a thumbs up. Otherwise, I have to admit, their sound would be easy for me to overlook.

p.s. i love how there is a load of laundry in the orange washer.

of blowing

The Automatic Automatic is a thumbs up. Not sure how I feel about the repeat name, sort of annoying. Mike and the Automatics might have been better, or something a little clever or funny. They could have reworked the name thing a little more.

Regardless, the sound is there. Happy beats, good vocals, British. What else could you ask for?

The video for Monster is sort of lame, although I did laugh out loud at the sasquach dancing and shaking its booty. It sort of made me want to be a sasquach. Just for a little while.

*************

Okay, I admit 100% Suburban Legends is taking the shape and form of a boy band. But I honestly felt more impressed than I thought I would at their sound. I like the bit of horns worked into Infectious. And although the choreography is chee-Z, I have to give it to the lead singer (top middle)- that boy has moves and can carry the spotlight well. If they simmer down the others dancing around him and chill on the forced mohawks this video might have been alright. Well, not really. The ending fight scene ruined it for me.

I dunno, I guess I am just giving the lead singer an honorable mention. And the horn blowers.

From Bangkok to Calgary

My friend Alysha introduced me to DCFC in the early New York days. I stumbled and tripped into love with the sound of them. I couldn't wait to get my hands on more. I was so thrilled to realize they already had several albums out by that time. Jackpot. I love finding a new-to-me band with a history of albums to explore just waiting to be loved. It's like musical Christmas. So much better than falling for a band to find them waiting 4 more years (or never) to put another album out (Postal Service). Or the guy commits suicide like a total punk (Elliot)- I can't possibly like your music now, that's so lame to do to yourself!

I proceeded to gather all I could get burned for me and then purchased anything remaining to try and memorize every word and beat and breath produced. I think it was a solid year before I listened to anything else new. It was pleasing to have so many of their discs fresh in rotation that I didn't yearn for anything else for some time.

Right before I left New York for good, I got to see them live with one of my favorite buddies ever, Lindsey. It was so fun to leave our kiddies at home, meet at the platform train, and hit The City for a fun night. I always forget how much live music edifies me and always wonder why I don't make the effort to go more often.

Strangely, few people stood, barely a foot was tapping to the beat and only a handful were dancing on the floor. I felt like I was hanging out at a lounge, people just sitting about. I was the fool, only one standing and belting out the lyrics from the seats. Poor Lindsey, she was probably so glad I was moving so she wouldn't have to be seen with me at a concert again. I liked the intimate room we were situated in and how it was set up like a large, rounded movie theater.

**

Over the weekend I got to see them again. Interestingly, with another all-time favorite friend (Tara) I am saying goodbye to in a couple short weeks. I offered her the courtesy 'I sing along' warning Lindsey should have been offered. She still agreed to go.

I had no idea what the Berkeley venue would be, just that it was near campus. We squeaked into dorm parking just as the band took the stage. As we located Will Call and then the entrance, the crowd went wild during my favorite drumming part of the song Crooked Teeth. I think my body elevated about 2 feet.

As we got through the entrance into the outdoor stadium, I swear I felt like we were entering the coliseum in Rome. It was a huge bowl curved up to the sky and filled with people. Possibly the most people in one space I have seen at a concert in my experience. And EVERY. SEAT. WAS. FILLED. Wow. I had no idea how incredibly massive of a following these guys have pulled together over the years. I was so happy to see what a success they are. I was so proud for these boys for putting their sounds together and really making it. They could have played zero songs and that moment still would have been enough for me.

But then the whole enormous audience had to go and chant along with some of my favorite songs and it was like the world having a group hug. There's something so magical and happy about being in a large space with a bunch of other people enjoying the same thing you didn't know so many other people also liked.

We ended up standing in front of loyal 12 year old male fans, which turns out to be wonderful on many levels.

1) no beer spillage on our shoes

2) minimal contact buzz (Tara pointed this one out)

3) my singing doesn't sound nearly as bad as the puberty exploding voices behind us

4) you can arrive late to the show, stand directly in front of them and they aren't going to do anything about it

Another crowd perk in our area was the hip hop guy. I only write about him so I won't forget. He was busting out serious moves and singing every word. My personal favorite was his boxing arms along with the mellow beat to Follow You Into The Dark. It's always nice to see a band that brings all sorts to a show. He was so feeling it way more than even the lead singer.

I also like how we respectively left our homes asking 'does this make me look like a mom?' and then 30 minutes later the security guy in the parking lot asked us if we remembered our college years. Was it that long ago? Should I have gone with the green shirt instead?

Petra

I had a goldmine of a music referral friend once upon a time. He was an HR colleague of mine from England and had plenty of stories about how he hung out with these huge British bands I adored. He traveled to the US to compete for rugby in the 90s and him and his friends got some girls to believe they were the EMF boys (true? not true? who knows).

I enjoyed swapping cds with him and trying to get him interested in ska at the time (never happened) and he tried to talk me into loving Carter USM (couldn't do it). Although we had some rejected suggestions, my favorite find from the trades was that of The Beautiful South. It was gut-twistingly amazing vocals and musically curious to my ears. I couldn't stop listening until I knew the words to every song. Even though I was in a sappy romance high with Mike, even the sad heartbreak songs sounded magical to me. It was a former favorite band of his; he said they provided fond memories of his past. Knowing he had a wife and daughter, I still braved to ask him, "Who was she?"

All he replied with was this:

"Petra. She was the one that got away."

A brick fell in my stomach when I read that line. What perfect words to explain it. I wanted to know the story, to find out all about her and her ways and the butchering of the love. I wanted the romance novel of it, but professionally it would have been going too far. I left it at that and just kept listening to his broken hearted memories by piecing together the story; listening to the sounds bellowing into my ears from the English pop group.

*

California is going to be my Petra. It's slipping away from me too quickly. I am not done with it yet. Every sweet smelling blossom and fresh cut blade of grass, walking paths and grassy hills, tree-filled parks and summer breezes. These aromas and eye pleasing treats are a pleasure I will miss deeply. I have so many things I want to see and places to visit and not enough time. I fully plan on sending love letters to California with no return address. I wonder if the postman receiving them will read them and enjoy this splendid place a little more?

frank edwin wright III I am not.

When Zane began preschool several months ago, I was nervous. Not that he would miss me. But that he would get kicked out. At that time he was a toy thrower and still learning to use his words, so he would yank a toy away from a kid or hit them when he wanted to play with them. He is the one in the group to never sit still, has a hard time following directions unless there is a firm TIME OUT attached as a possible outcome. He thinks he runs the place everywhere he goes. I knew preschool would be no exception.

I was extra friendly with the teacher, discussing the things we were doing at home to teach obedience and wanted to make sure we were on the same page. She was always great about feedback, both positive and constructive. She never tried to sugar- coat it, we both knew openly he was one of the more busy boys in the class. So I knew as his mother it was my duty to offer anything and everything I could to establish a relationship with this woman so we could be a good team.

She was asking parents to sign up for sharing talents or skills the kids could learn from. I saw mothers sign up for gardening, one was a dentist, another making bread and butter from scratch, another painting pots, etc. Surely I couldn't teach them how to do succession planning or performance reviews. And even though I can pull together a thorough severance package, those skills did me no good at preschool. But. BUT. I could show the kids to keep a beat. My pathetic attempt to help out in the class was offering up a day with drums. She excitedly welcomed the idea and that's what we did this morning.

We arrived early, one complete drum kit and two kids in tow. I am still impressed with myself for getting all of it into the car myself (plus the stroller!). I taught them the names of each symbol and drum (snare, toms, base, hi-hat, ride) and had them guess which one they heard with their eyes closed while Zane hit one at a time. Then we practiced counting to four by clapping their hands slowly, then quickly. Now remember children, Tre Cool says all you need to do is count to four and repeat to be a drummer. I busted out some sick beats and then they took turns pounding on my drums. Zane, of course, roamed around like he ran the place just as I suspected. The rest of the class had fun and rocked out.

This is my favorite little dude who actually did very well keeping a steady rhythm and maintained a super serious face the whole time. I guess I should have lowered everything for them (oops).

Zane talks about how nice this little girl is to him all the time and even this morning told me he thinks she is pretty. Can you blame him, the girl has amazing hair! So naturally, I took the opportunity to have a secret photo shoot of her while she was drumming. Should I put her photo in a frame for his dresser so I can teach him to be a young stalker, just like the way his dear old mom was?

It was interesting to see the girls spent a little time on the drum kit, but for the boys to linger the whole time. I recorded this little video below of five of them rocking out together. It's a masterpiece!

are you gonna cruise the miracle mile

It was never really a big deal to me that my father was not in my life. I didn't know anything different. I knew it wasn't the norm, but I rarely thought about it. Two things always brought it to my mind that I do recall.

1) The class roll. Never fail, every single year on the first day of school the teacher would read the full name of the person, glance at the parent's name, and ask if you went by a nickname so he or she could write it into the roll. I was always excited to say "present!" instead "here". It always made the whole class laugh. But then the teacher would ruin it because he or she would quiz me in front of a room full of new peers why my mother and I had a different last name. Like it was a trick I was playing or a game. I got to announce every year how my parents were divorced and my mom is married to someone with a different last name. Then there was the awkward silence where they put the situation together and you knew they felt sad for me. But it mad me mad cos it was really no big deal. Not that it's something you want to shout across the room all the time, but then the teacher kind of made it a big deal. I always wanted to stand on my chair and reassure the room really I am alright, it's all I have ever known. He's an asshole anyway and I am pretty certain we are better off without him. Can we continue with the roll please, you stopped at M.

It never really came up again in school until later when I made friends. Some would secretly confide in me that their parents were divorced. It wasn't such a common thing in the early 80s. They asked if I saw my dad every summer like they did. I knew they wanted to commiserate. I would reply 'no, I don't really talk to him at all' and then the conversation would end and we would climb on the monkey bars. Or some would tell me I was lucky that way and I wondered why. I wanted to hear their story. That's about as long as I would think about it. It wasn't so complicated to me as a kid the way adults might have thought it was.

2) The Billy Joel cassette tape my mother had always reminded me he was out there somewhere. Sometimes it would catch my eye sitting under the family television with the other tapes, almost like a red flag. It was the one where he is about to throw a rock through the windows. I wondered if that was how he felt about not knowing me and I hoped he missed us. I might have wondered what he looked like, how I was like him, what he liked to eat, what he liked to watch on t.v. But I didn't wonder for very long. It was more of a curiosity rather than sadness. I just hoped that curiosity was matched where ever he was.

*

As an adult when I take time to really listen to Billy Joel I have grown to appreciate him as one of the more amazing musicians I have ever heard. I would like to think I base that opinion on trained ears that have listened to a lot of music over the years. He hits so many ranges with his voice and vivid imagery with his lyrics. I feel like I am roaming around the Met or Louvre while I listen to him, it's like being exposed to a masterpiece. I love to hear him sing about New York, being in love, rock star life, anything. I wish I had listened to that cassette so long ago, I was really missing out. The dude can rock out.

*

As a young adult I had the opportunity to meet my father. There is a lot I can write about that, but today is not that day. I guess to summarize I would say it was a necessary chapter to write in my life, meeting him, but also an important confirmation that my mother made the correct choice. Which I never doubted, but it was cleansing to my soul to know that for myself. My wonder was fulfilled, it wasn't until that gap in my heart was filled that I knew there was a void. And the void wasn't him, it was me having the ability to decide for myself if I wanted him in ym life or not. And you know, I was better off without him and peacefully fine even still. His absence is just on my own terms now. Not his.

*

Driving down a California Highway this week listening to Billy Joel I realized I had been thinking in my head as a girl that he would be this perfect image I created in my mind. That he would communicate perfectly, say the right words, act the right way, be who I wanted him to be. And he wasn't. I wanted him to be a masterpiece like the one I listened to called Billy Joel. I might have even been surprised he didn't look more like him.

Yesterday I thought about my boys and what to say when they ask about him. Tears streamed down my face as I realized I want to teach them to love people in this life. Even when they are imperfect. Even when they disappoint. Even when they are total assholes. And I am the person to be their example. The same way I will teach them to tie their shoes by watching my hands, I will show them how to love even ones that might not be the easiest to love.

*
And what does that look like? Still sorting that out in my head, but being cautious about expectations (make them none) and purity in heart.

tunage

I have been pondering for a while now how to get music onto this site ever since Brandon's imeem list made an appearance. I beat my head against the computer trying to set up an account with them, then collected my own cds to upload (impossible- my collection is a mess), then ripped my hair out when I tried to log in again and couldn't remember my password or sign in. So I gave up.

Then Aubrey had these super clear and awesome videos, which have since been taken down. I vowed to email her and ask her about it so I could join the party. But I never did.

So when Ian and Sheri had their awesome playlists rockin their site I knew it was meant to be for me, as well. So hurrah for getting the music to the people for free!

p.s. the awesome thing about playlist is you (the reader) can turn it on and off like a radio. You can also remove it from my site and play it while you go to other websites (click 'launch standalone player' on the bottom of the box; my mom will love this feature).

And the playlist combos are limitless! Irrevrent, 90s, #8s that are great, girl bands, ska, heartbreak, running, roadtrip, dancepartyUSA, top ten of a single band, big hair bands, jockrock, you name it! You should put one up too, it's great fun.

i like my new bunnysuit

I think this song on the Juno Soundtrack is cute.

This part is fun to sing along to:

i like boys with strong convictions
and convicts with perfect diction
underdogs with good intentions
amputees with stamp collections
plywood skinboards ride the ocean
salty noses suntan lotion
always seriously joking
and rambunctiously soft-spoken

*

On a separate note, I am feeling less thrilled about the band Angels and Airwaves (A&A) the more I listen to them lately. It brings up the age old question: what is important in music the lyrics or the music? To me both, probably to most people the answer is a good blend of both.

With A&A I am completely smitten with the sound all instruments create together. They create a collection of melodies that make you feel like you are lifted off of the ground and in a sort of in-between place. Sort of like things around you are on pause.

But. BUT the lyrics and even at times the singer totally kills the vibe. You are enjoying it and then you stop and think about what he is actually singing and you lose the momentum of the groove. Really? You couldn't have come up with better words? You can't make your voice do something more?

I think I have grand disappointment in this band because I was hoping the reason he was no longer part of Blink-182 was for a good cause, something better. Musically I would say yes 110% it's there. Lyrics and such, not at all. They need to replace the singer and they will do much better long term as a band.

You know when you have this taste for a thick glass of freshly squeezed orange juice? Listening to them is like expecting that, but getting Sunny Delight instead. Or even Tampico.

more good beats

Cobra Starship

Hrmmmmm sort of like American Rejects meet Modest Mouse and the look of that Maroon 500 guy. Sounds tasty. Check them out in this video. Although odds are they are old news as I am a bit delayed. Doesn't change the fact that it's good stuff. Here is their bio. They come from different bands, some big and not all ones I adore, however I think this combo of people works really well.

here with you it's perfect

top eighteen songs by the cure. because i couldn't stop at ten.

Untitled
Pictures of you
Halo
Strange Attraction
Letter To Elise
Catch
Mint Car
Apart
Jupiter Crash
The Walk
Treasure
How Beautiful You Are
Boys Don’t Cry
Hot! Hot! Hot!
Lovecats
Shiver and Shake
Trust
In Between days

i can't imagine an hour without you

The Hours

From the UK (of course). I simply love their sound.

Everybody gets knocked down

how quick are you gonna get up?

+give a listen

Good? yes.

*update: link corrected.

Ear candy for this fine Monday.

The only word I can think of to describe these powerpop New Zealanders is captivating. Can't say I love the name The Mint Chicks for their band, but since I love mint chocolate chip ice cream it's forgiveable.

housewife crushery

Andrew Bird appeared on a re-run episode of Jack's Big Music Show. There's just something extra cute about a talented, accomplished musician when he sings to puppets for a children's program. He has a magical singing voice, give a listen here.




Shout Out Louds.......speaking of The Cure, this group has a similar sound that I adore. Someone told me about this band recently but I didn't follow-up on it (Brooke?). Two thumbs up, sort of that shoegaze, mellow yet poppy sound to me.

you can't have too many lines

Listening to music really gets my mind spinning and inspires my desire to write. If I listened to music more often my fingers wouldn't be able to keep up with the words I would want to type. Good thing I have a life, a family, and other things to do- ay?

I dusted off an old cd, The Beautiful South, recently and forgot how much I love it. How each songs takes me to a different place, soaring through various paths in my mind. Taking me by the hand and allowing me to wander aimlessly. The song that always gets a few extra notches to the right of the volume dial is Prettiest Eyes.

It's the kind of song I think anyone can relate to. He sings about remembering specific moments with someone over years of a relationship. Some memories more profound (and then we cried), while others are like little nuggets of detail the other person might not even remember (I could hear the faintest beat of your heart).

Today it got me thinking about what my own Prettiest Eyes song would be like. We all have them, former romances that were building blocks for our hearts to eventually land us with our lover for life. The one that is the best fit for us and won the grand prize: The Hand in Marriage. The past people totally needed to exist in my journey so I could realize how valuable this (ultimately eternal) mate is and to hold on tight and win him over! And although the others couldn't hold a candle to my Valentine for Life, there are still memories of my younger years that are glitter on the pages of my internal scrapbook. And I think it's okay to keep the book on the shelf in a closet, it just doesn't belong on the coffee table.

The past people, be them friends or X's, were an important part of my life at one time and are not thought of so often. But they are still part of the memory that's enjoyable to visit once in a while. The way a stray, crusty old leaf tumbles across your path. It makes you smile for a split-second and remember the season is changing. But it doesn't trip you up or even break your stride. Makes you take a look around and appreciate the leaves yet to fall. The memories in the making and still to come in your present life.

I think of the silly things I remember about people or experiences and wonder if that same moment left an imprint with the other person, too. Or if I am altogether long forgotten.

And then the song is over and I am bringing my Target bags into the house and it doesn't matter. And that makes me smile even bigger for a lot longer than a split-second.