It seems that once every five years or so I crave pop music. I get lost in the bubblegum happy nature of poppy hip-hop or ballads mass marketed to people much younger than myself. Makes me feel young again. I can take myself back to cool late spring mornings, walking out to my car with one song or another stuck in my head, floating through the pollen-laden air, feeling footloose and fancy free, smitten with one guy or another. I suppose I can blame some of this on my addiction to watching The Hills on MTV. . .kind of has me walking around giving my own life a soundtrack, complete with a little window that pops up over me listing track name and artist. Something about the springtime gets me this way. . .blissfully giddy and falling in love with my husband all over again. I’m no longer 23 years old, trapsing around in my brand new denim dress from the Gap that I coveted so much, waking up in my blue and yellow-orange accented bedroom in my first adult apartment. . .but I can take myself back there. I can smell the air and see the colors before my eyes. I can remember the feeling that everything was new and the world offered so much to be explored and discovered. I find myself journeying there nearly every day as of late. My happy place. . .where everything was shiny and new. I suppose there are still new things to learn and to discover, I don’t need to lose myself in my past in order to feel this way, just take the positive parts and experiences (because believe me, it wasn’t all sunshine and roses) and move forward.
Spring=renewal. rejuvination. return to innocence.