"We all got wood and nails" - Brand New

Please, correct me if I'm wrong.

But I think I may be the only one who associates songs and playlists to the extreme that I do.



Linda Rhonstadt - Desperado
= My dad singing in the kitchen in his falsetto voice chopping up vegetables for the salad. Most of the time when he sings, it's in his falsetto voice to mimic whatever lady singer he's listening to, most likely Celine Dion, Linda Rhonstadt, Charlotte Church, or Patsy Cline. He also tends to dance around sometimes, much like Forrest Gump does when Jenny comes to visit him at his house to that CCR song in the living room.

Elton John - Rocket Man
= Jordan Alford thinking Stewie's performance of this song was the funniest thing he'd ever seen on Family Guy. I didn't get it.

Biz Markie - Just a Friend
= 2009 NBA Finals. Lights off in my room. Large Papa John's pepperoni pizza and warm Countrymaid strawberry lemonade. The door's propped open and it's raining outside. Kissing during commercials. "This is like...my dream."

Brand New - Jesus Christ
= My coping mechanism for culture shock while in Japan. As I was about to serve a mission, this also addressed every religious doubt I had ever experienced, and was glad to recognize I haven't looked back. This song encompassed every question I wanted to answer for my investigators. This was also the song I would turn up in my headphones when Meg Holmberg (now Ballard) and Cole Ballard would be talking on Skype in the "hallway" of our 10 ft. apartment.

Led Zeppelin - Rain Song
= Alex's room. I'm falling asleep on his bed, he's playing the guitar in his chair. Maybe because it's raining outside, probably because it's his favorite to play on the guitar. He thinks I'm not listening to every note with utter delight. I'm afraid to show I care. A lot. There was hope for the future then. I regret not knowing the lyrics at the time.

Joshua Radin - Friend Like You.
= Keaton Jolley on the phone close to 4 AM East coast time this summer. Emily left and Alex broke it off. All we had were words and memories and each other's voices for comfort.

Fuel - Hemorrhage
= Derrick, a cute boy from EFY in Georgia when I was 14 who said this was his favorite song. He was tall, black hair, total punk in every sense of the word. Horrible slow dancer and very sweaty. I thought I was in love. What can I say, my standards were lower back then.

Spice Girls - Wannabe
= 5 best friends, spanning the ages 9-12, jumping on mattresses in Kate Wakeling's screened-in back porch. Singing at the top of our lungs to a cassette tape which had this song recorded from the radio, I was designated Baby Spice because I was the blonde. I really just wanted to be Scary Spice. This is the first memory I trace back to me wanting to be black.



I think maybe this is my brain overcompensating for the fact that I can't remember my life in most other situations. But turn on the playlist called 90s Glory Hits and suddenly I can remember every detail of 6th grade, driving back and forth from Portland Christian, every timed mile in cross country practice, that spelling bee I was 1 word away from beating reigning class champion.
Turn on the playlist called May and there appears the trip to Angel's Landing, every encouragement, every disappointment, every kiss, every thing you didn't say.

October is still in the making. So far it's 1 random birthday mix of 19 sad love songs, acoustic mostly, some Regina Spektor, and Lyle Lovett. I don't like the sound of it yet, honestly. It needs something more...upbeat. Refreshing. Vigorous. Passionate. Sounds of emotions that need to be a part of me again.

I can't wait to see what November and December will sound like. With any luck, they'll sound more like what October should.