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Pandora’s Box

Currently, my life is as “all over the place” as my Pandora playlist. A little bit of Rick Ross here, a little bit of Lykke Li there, a whole lotta Luther and Bob Marley everywhere … with some Weeknd in between Britney Spears, The Cure, Bon Jovi, and my 80s station that plays all my cheesy favorites.

I think it’s crazy how music can take you back. Back to memories so vivid you can remember exactly what you were doing, who you were with, and how you felt at the time you first heard the song. To a point where you feel like you’re right there. And in that instance, the memories don’t seem so distant anymore.

One More Chance never fails to take me back to the summer of 1995, when I attended summer school in preparation for my freshman year of high school at Burton (were some of you even born yet?). Luther Vandross’s Here and Now always reminds me of the very first time I had my own room. It would play on the radio, and as a little girl still in elementary school, I’d stare at all the toys in  my room. And Pitbull’s Give Me Everything Tonight reminds me of one drunken Cinco de Mayo where tequila was the answer to everything. Safe to say almost every song I know has some sort of memory attached to it, whether it be big or small. But a few of them are so powerful, I shudder at some of the flashbacks they ensue.

Just a few days ago Justin Bieber’s Stuck in the Moment played (DON’T JUDGE MEEE!). It had been a minute since I last heard it, so I let it play, and then I remembered why I chose to skip it all the other times I did. I immediately thought of him. The last guy I actually cared for, and naturally the last guy that hurt me. And just like that I was teleported back to a time where anxiety came with every text message, and doubt came with every moment I wouldn’t get one.

I hadn’t thought of him in months. I don’t even want to “accidentally” run into him looking good as hell with some taller, hotter dude by my side. Yet, during those 3 minutes and 35 seconds that Bieber wailed Stuck in the Moment, I missed him, lusted for him, cared for him, worried about him, and wanted to slap him and feel his arms around me all at the same time.

Bieber, you sonnovabitch you.

I guess in a sense, the late, great Marley was wrong. Sometimes it does hurt when the music hits. But. That’s the wonderful thing about music. While there will always be classics, it’s also always changing, evolving.  You can rearrange the lyrics. Add a new stanza. Change the arrangement, etc. etc. Eventually, some music fades away, and with it the bad memories.. Maybe it’s time I delete my Adele channel, and que up the Rick Astley.

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