MP Mix

Spent the afternoon as I used to, back in the days when I was a happy, single lady...dancing her way through a Friday evening at home...just her, and her sappy i-tunes playlist, and a bottle of wine.
When I listen to these albums by Cat Power and Leona Naess and Damien Rice, I can close my eyes and erase everything that's happened in the last three years and take back that feeling of supreme independence and complete contentment with being alone. When all I needed was a sweet little melody and a paintbrush.
Today, the most dreaded hours of the day are when the sun goes down. I'm only happy when the sun shines. Maybe I need to rearrange the lighting in my house to reflect the change in my moods. I'm only happy while singing along to the familiar notes at the top of my lungs. Screw the neighbors!
Funny because this very mix was one I made for Mikey when we first started dating, but never finished so I never gave it to him. Then one night he found it, and so I played it for him...for me it was a reflection of songs that represent me and hold intense emotional connections. Most of them covers of classic rock songs, done over by schmaltzy, emotional, female singers. Upon listening to the mix...he looked at me with a new light in his eyes...every song I had chosen was from one of his significant soundtracks throughout his life...including his favorite song of all time. (Though most aging pot heads identify with Comfortably Numb...so that was kind of a no brainer.)
Regardless, in light of the stresses that have been upon me the last few weeks. Today was a much needed trot down emotional memory lane. I can almost smell the resin in the air....
I love the friends I've made in this town with all my heart...but sometimes I long for those nine months when I existed in my own little cocoon, nursing a broken heart. Driving anonymously through town and marveling at the man who dressed like Jesus, and the guy with the shoulder length hair who always stood on the porch of the Black Swan (before it was "the pub") smoking cigarettes at 5, the two red headed guys who tossed a football back and forth across the street, and having no idea who lived behind all the closed doors of this town. When Tivoli felt larger. Unreachable. When the only knowledge I had of the river was crossing it to get back to Saugerties, to my safe place. Me and Munchkin against the world.
Maybe it is time to move...