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The Importance of Music

Anyone who is a friend of mine on Facebook has probably noticed that I post a LOT of music…I love music, it makes me happy.  The right song can either convey my mood or change it altogether…and a great song can make me dance!

Sometimes, I feel like this:

Sometimes, like this:

The songs that make me want to get up and dance (without the aid of alcohol) are usually the ones that would make my mother ask, “Is this music or noise?”

And then there are those songs that just make me happy:

I love love LOVE to dance…in my living room…after the boys have gone to sleep…and no one can possibly see me.  Unless of course, I’ve had a couple of drinks…and then I’ll hit a dance floor and close the place down.  I think I’ve got music in my soul.  Too bad my singing sounds like I’m killing a cat.  I’ll stick with listening and dancing…

As much as I like to dance, though, my taste in music runs the gambit: Rodney Crowell, White Stripes, Michael Franti, Queen, Cowboy Mouth, the list goes on and on…

Music speaks to people (at least it speaks to me)…if you ever need to say something and don’t know how, try music.


Independent Michaela – WTF?

I’ve had a couple of comments about the name of my blog – Independent Michaela (which is also my email address) – so I thought I’d explain it. 

There’s not much to explain (how’s that for anticlimactic?).  Several weeks ago, for the first time in my adult life (I’ll be saying that a lot), I needed to sign up for a new email address.  I needed something that didn’t contain my last name because it will change…eventually.  But I wanted something that had meaning to me.

I’ve never been good with titles and names.  That’s too few words to describe something.  I’m a talker, an explainer…I’ll explain what I’m about to tell you, and spend 5 minutes giving background information, before I ever get to the point.  Twitter is hard for me.

So there I am at Google, signing up for a non-work related, non-“Benjamin” email…and the word that kept coming to mind was Independent.

At the time, it was sort of this fuzzy concept…something I was striving for.  My family has told me for as long as I can remember that I’m extremely independent.  My Almost-Ex hated it about me.  But I’ve never felt independent. 

The day I had to decide, over the phone, to let the mechanic do $1100 worth of work to the car, and yeah, I’ll apply for a Tires Plus credit card (’cause how ELSE was I going to pay for that much work?), and I made the decision on my own, I knew I was inching, slowly, towards independence.  It’s a small thing for most…but it was momentous to me.  The $1100 made it that much more…special…yeah, that’s the word…special

It’s still a concept to me…but don’t ask my family or close friends.  They’ll tell you I’m maddeningly independent…make-you-want-to-smack-someone independent…feel-sorry-for-the-next-man-in-my-life independent.

I just keep thinking of this…

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