music in my ears

When I bought my iPod Shuffle, it was an extravagant gift to myself. I’ve wanted an iPod since Apple launched them, but I restrained myself from unnecessary debt, all the while secretly wishing and hoping that Apple would release a $100 version. Enter iPod Shuffle. I caved. I couldn’t live a life without an iPod anymore; the jealousy was getting to me.

I told a friend the day the I bought it that I was only allowing myself to listen to it when I worked out. That night, I got real with myself and called “Bullsh*t.” I use it whenever and wherever I want to and it has not yet been introduced to the gym or my bike or even my walking shoes. Shame, shame, on me.

What my iPod has done is reintroduce me to constant music. I used to use music as an escape, from my parents, from my college roommates, from life. When you live alone, there isn’t much to escape, expect yourself.

My black Sanyo stereo that I bought my senior year in high school filled my room with Counting Crows and Sarah McLachan and David Wilcox. I would climb the stairs in my parent’s house, barefooted. Turn left at the top. Press play and dance. It was freedom. It was peace.

In college, BMG became my new best friend and every CD I ever wanted was purchase though the ones that I remember playing the most never came through the mail. They were Shannon Worrell, Dave Matthews Band and River. It was hip. It was cool. It was self-discovery.

My iPod Shuffle has been filling my ears with The Postal Service, Damien Rice, David Gray, Sondre Lerche, The Shins, and Dave Mathews (as himself). The thing is tiny, but it can hold a plethora of tunes. Apple is amazing.

So, now, on any given day you can find me with white earphones in my ears connected to a strange, small, white device held by a white cord around my neck. I’ll be cleaning my house, dancing, writing posts, running errands, sitting in coffee shops, not hearing the phone ring, and loving every minute of the constant introduction to new music on random, baby!