Soundtrack

Most of my week has been spent in the car. The state of the floor in there is quite despicable. There are coffee mugs and water bottles and a few french fry boxes and mountains of pen-and-ink drawings by Emma containing stories that have been lost to the miles behind us.
It's just been that kind of week.
But the soundtrack of life hasn't let me down. You know how, sometimes, the music you come across just suits where you are? Maybe that only happens to me. Maybe I just have that special kind of magic that conjures up the right song at the right time.
I drive an old car and the tape player doesn't work. No, silly, I wouldn't listen to tapes, but I would use an adapter for my iPod. Those remote ones that tune to radio stations just don't work. And yes, I hear you, voice-from-far-away. You who constantly tell me I should just get satellite radio. But that seems extravagant in a big ol' green Cadillac that is only a set of gold rims away from crossing the Granny-to-Pimp line. And honestly, I'd rather spend that money on shoes.
Music is really important to me, though. I think if you were to look at my cells very closely, they are at least partly made of music. So, the soundtrack of my day seems like it would be too important to be left to chance. But I like surprises. Especially the kind where that song that you didn't even pick was just exactly how you felt that minute. So I listen to the radio.
Tuesday night, heading to the grocery store at nine something, after that awfully long day, I got my weary butt back into the car and heard:
Wait; I'm coming undone; Irate; I'm coming undone (Korn)
Yep. Pretty much. Didn't want to go anywhere else. Pretty angry about my day. Yep. End-of-the-rope.
Thursday night, I had been driving even more and heard my favorite Metallica song:
Anywhere I roam; Where I lay my head is home
Followed by a favorite Led Zeppelin song:
Many times I've gazed; Along the open road.
Yeah. I really have been driving too much.
Somewhere in between Target and my car, though, I took notice of the breeze. It's not often breezy here. Over on the coast, maybe, but not as much inland. And when it happens, I absolutely have to take notice. I stopped in the parking lot and closed my eyes. Probably weirded a few people out.
Got back in my car and heard "Viva la Vida" (Coldplay) and knew I could at least drive back home because that song always makes me want to drive. Preferably in a convertible.
Come to think of it, I may be able to reduce my stress level by tuning in exclusively to the local smooth jazz station.
But I got home and got my packages out of the trunk and stopped in my driveway and let the wind hit me, wishing all the while that I could just follow it some and wander wherever it took me.
Chris must have seen the headlights, because he stepped onto the porch after a while looking for me. And as soon as he saw me, he knew. He said, "What's it telling you, hon?"
'Cause he knows. He knows that I've always felt like if I listened hard enough, the wind might actually be saying something. And I always have to stop and listen to it, just to make sure.
I heard my theme song on the radio this week, too, and lots of happy songs like Suite: Judy Blue Eyes (Crosby, Stills & Nash). Seriously, how can you not smile and sing with all those doo doo doos (even though it's not exactly a happy song)? That's one of those songs where the harmonies are all so good, I never can pick one, and consequently don't even really know the melody. Oh - and I heard Ventura Highway (America) at least twice - talk about a great driving song!

I'm wishing you lots of happy songs this weekend. Even if you have to make most of them up by yourself. Those are some of the very best kinds of songs.

DAILY BLISS: shoe shopping with my baby girl