Final Mix

When I have some sort of difficulty in my life (i.e. breaking off an engagement), I like to spend preposterous amounts of time organizing music to reflect my feelings. Usually, once I can listen to how I'm feeling, I can better deal with it. This was true long ago, when I was organizing music to tell my former fiancee that I loved him without actually saying it out loud. (I skipped this phase in high school.)

I really appreciate all the suggestions for break-up songs that people gave me here. I still have to check a few of them out. I didn't end up using any of them because they weren't quite right (it's amazing how each relationship has its own specific imprint), but I'd love to hear any more suggestions. Music is the most inexpensive therapy out there.

Here's my setlist:

Prelude

1. "Set Fire to the Third Bar," Snow Patrol featuring Martha Wainwright

Miles from where you are
I lay down on the cold ground
I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms.

2. "Hey Jupiter," Tori Amos

3. "You Only Disappear," Tom McRae

Tom McRae is a genius--and he's British. I wonder if he's single? This
is the best song no one's heard.

4. "How It Ends," DeVotchka

You already know how this will end.

Ceremony

5. "Last Goodbye," Jeff Buckley

6. "Let Him Fly," Patty Griffin

It would take an acrobat
But I've already tried all that.

7. "Delicate," Damien Rice

8. "Into the Ocean," Blue October

9. "Ocean Breathes Salty," Modest Mouse

For your sake, I hope heaven and hell are really there
But I wouldn't hold my breath.

10. "Dare You to Move," Switchfoot

This is the song I listen to when I'm sad in any situation. It actually makes me move.

11. "Sailed On," Landon Pigg

12. "Forget It," Breaking Benjamin

Forget it--just memory
on a page inside a spiral notebook.

13. "Smoke," Ben Folds Five

Leaf by leaf and page by page
Throw this book away.

14. "U + Ur Hand," P!nk

Yes, everything that the title implies. This is the token Angry Song.

Postlude

15. "Country Feedback," REM

Crazy what you could've had.

16. "Headlights," Albatross

17. "Always on Your Side," Sheryl Crow and Sting

When this song originally came out, I would hear it on the radio while driving to work. I was embarrassed that it moved me so much, much less that I always cried.

18. "The Guy That Says Goodbye to You is Out of His Mind," Griffin House

The first time I heard this song was live, on the South Side of Pittsburgh, just before I started my relationship with The Ex. He was planning on going to Egypt at the time, and hearing this song made me think, for the first time, that its title was true.

There is Always Reason to Hope.

One of the joys of being student council advisor at my school is the organization of candy-grams. Here are the (essential) contents to two cards, each sent from the same child to the same recipient, that we read while previewing them for negative or derogatory comments.

First card:

I wanted to ask you out today but I was too scared. I hope that you will think about it. I really like you.

Second card:

I'm sending you this card to make sure that I get my point across.
***
A little obsessive, but you have to admire the persistence.

I remember when the possibility of falling in love had all of that same sharpness, all of that danger.

Unfortunately, it was today.

Here's hoping that all works out well for the middle school lovers, and the rest of us.

Wind Chill Delay

Given the blessing of a two hour wind chill delay tomorrow morning, I thought I would take this opportunity to reflect on some of the events--and triumphs!--that have occurred in the last two weeks, since I've been single.

First of all, just moments ago, I finally managed to get the sock out of the vacuum cleaner. It took about an hour of adjusting a coat hanger with a pair of pliers. That's the triumph part. I like knowing that I'm a young woman who can figure something like this out without too much assistance.

As luck would have it, Valentine's Day looms around the corner. While I was shopping this weekend, I couldn't help but notice all the signs for bridal shows, all the glittery jewelry sales. All the couples walking hand-in-hand. But I don't actually feel angry or bitter. This may be because the best Valentine's Day of my life remains the time that I was in Toronto, eating at Burger King with my (then) best friend Mike. When the height of Valentine's Day romance for you happened with somebody who doesn't find girls sexually attractive, it's hard to be disappointed.

Valentine's Day. The other teachers at school are throwing a bridal shower for the other two girls in my hallway who are engaged. It was supposed to have been my party, too. Hence, the guidance counselor pulled me into her office to warn me in advance, and make sure that I was okay enough to handle it.

Of course, whenever anyone asks me if I'm okay, I burst into tears. I could win the lottery, and if someone asked me that question, I'd still cry. After getting my head examined for a while, she pronounced that I am dealing in positive ways with my hurt.

Here are some ways that I am doing this.

1. Eating chocolate.
2. Talking to my friends.
3. Taking mini-vacations.
4. Exercising.
5. Snuggling with my dog.
6. Writing.
7. Reading good books.
8. Napping.
9. Taking baths with fizzy bath salts and confetti.
10. Buying fuzzy socks.
11. Watching romantic comedies. And Million Dollar Baby.
12. Developing an inexplicable crush on Clint Eastwood.
13. Cruising the internet for available men.
14. Planning parties for five hundred middle school students. I am not making this up. It was actually a big success.
15. Organizing a mixed CD of break-up songs (forthcoming).
16. Applying for new jobs and prestigious writing fellowships, just for fun.
17. Staying hydrated.

I am wondering: A. If anyone has any other suggestions that have been helpful for them in dealing with the end of a relationship and B. If you might have any song ideas to contribute to my CD compilation.

And, please, stay warm.

Girl in a Pink Coat

I went to the library to return my books the other day, and then to locate a copy of To Kill a Mockingbird for one of my students (his mother had returned it before he was finished, and he insisted that he could only read this particular copy).

As I was turning down the K-M aisle, I noticed a little, brown-skinned girl in a pink, puffy coat entering the aisle next to mine, her black hair done up in pigtails, dragging her fingertips of her left hand along the spines of the books. In general, I'm fascinated by watching children in public, but I found myself smiling more than usual at this one. She seemed so focused on the books, so content to be in the library.

She looked like I had imagined my daughter would have looked like, if.

Thankfully, the seven copies of To Kill a Mockingbird were located on the very bottom shelf where I could actually reach them. I crouched down and started looking for the version with "big print!" that would signal I'd found my student's preferred version.

I heard footsteps, and turned to see the same little girl, plodding her way down my aisle, still touching the books with her left hand. She seemed oblivious to my presence, so I moved closer to my own shelf to let her by.

When she passed me, she patted my back with her hand. As if comforting me. Or saying goodbye.

The Wrong Frequency

I am not making this up. I swear.

Since I moved to Virginia, I've been frustrated by my inability to set my radio alarm clock to a station that I could actually hear. I would get strange weather reports from New Jersey, muffled with static.

Sometimes, R&B hits. Sometimes, classics from the seventies.

All this, without ever changing the channel.

Quite frankly, it disturbed me.

Last week, when I woke up, I looked at the clock and realized that it had been set to AM instead of FM. For a year and a half.

I flipped the switch, and the sound came through clearly.