You Are What You Listen To

Shawn got me a MP3 player for my birthday last March and then he got one. Then we got a subscription to Napster. We downloaded hundreds of songs and figured we were done for a while so I called Napster to cancel the subscription. Turns out that when you cancel, you lose all your music.

"Except for the individual songs you've purchased for 99 cents each," the young man on the phone said.

But that would cost like, $500 or something. I'm stupid, but I am not crazy! Ugh. You mean we are renting our music? That's stupid! They don't tell you that when you sign up! Argh. I be one angry matie!

They say you can tell a lot about a person by what's on their MP3 player. I'm not sure what mine says. Mine is probably whining that its been dropped too many times and is being held captive in a cheesy protective case held together with saftey pins ever since the zipper broke.

I only really use my player at work. Every now and then someone will ask, "So whatcha listening to?"
"Ask me later," I say, "when I'm listening to something less embarassing."

So what does my player say?
I've got everything from Johnny Cash to Metallica. Fergie to Patsy Cline. Blind Melon and AC/DC. I promise you there is a type of music for everyone on my player. Every genre, every beat, bop, and bump. One-hit wonders you've never heard of. Every good song from our collection of CDs and every so-so song from our CDs.

"Oh gawd, please tell me you're not listening Kelly Clarson!" my boss once said.
"Justin Timberlake? You've got Justin Timberlake?" my husband laughs hysterically as my face turns red.

What? I like that What Goes Around song. It's just one song! Do something!
I even had some 40's swing music on at one point.
"Why?" my mom asks, rudely, if you ask me.

Well....why not?
If it helps me get through the day at work, so be it.
Coincidentally, I have the following songs on my player ready for job related mishaps:

5 o'clock World
The Job That Ate My Brain
Gimme Shock Treatment
Rescue Me
We Gotta Get Out of This Place
19th Nervous Breakdown
Folsom Prison


Well, you get the idea.