The songs in my head

If there were a disease that made you prone to having songs constantly stuck in your head, I would be the poster child. For the purposes of this blog post, let's call it "Stuckularitis."

I have been debilitated by Stuckularitis since I was a little girl. Gosh darn it, if I hear a song one time it will be in my head ALL day (all week even, depending on the song's lack of quality). That's right... there is an inverse correlation between how good a song is and how long it stays in my head. And I always seem to remember to lyrics to the worst songs, and often forget the lyrics to some of my favorite songs. It's bizarro.

Going along with Stuckularitis, I also have a very serious condition called "Musical Association Disorder." I posted a few weeks ago on Facebook how I found an old CD from college. Seconds after popping it in, I was taken back to April 2006. The most profound characteristic of M.A.D. is when there are songs, CDs, musicals, etc. that will forever represent a time stamp on your life. Since I listened to the aforementioned CD over and over again leading up to and following Spring Break 2006, I will always associate the songs on that CD with what was happening in my life at the time.

M.A.D. also has the ability to bring out certain emotions in a split second. For instance, just hearing the first few bars of "Look After You" by The Fray immediately fills me with love. That is "Our Song." We heard it when we went to our first concert together; it was playing when I walked into my surprise birthday/engagement party; and it was also the song that we danced to at our wedding. I'm sure our close friends also associate Look After You with me and Jon.... see, M.A.D. is contagious!!!

About a month ago, I heard a song called "September" by Daughtry on the radio. I think Daughtry ranks right up there with Nickleback as one of my least favorite bands. Anyway, I told my BFF J-Mo that the stupid bald lead singer obviously wrote the lyrics of that song to torture me. The lyrics talk about having a wonderful summer, and once it's over and only the memories remain,  in the end it was all worth it. So of course as I'm listening to the lyrics I started crying hysterically. All I could think about was the amazing summer we had with our baby boy. I longed for the joy and anticipation and naivete of our wonderful summer.

When I got home that night, Jon was there to intercept me and my tears. I told him about how sad the song was, and he gave me a huge hug and said "Sweetheart, Jack would have HATED Daughtry." (I love that man, he says one line and I instantly feel better).

I have heard this song several times since then, and each time the tears would start within seconds. I will most likely always associate that song with the tremendous sadness I felt in the month of September 2010, when I lost my baby Jack. But last night, for the first time, I heard it and did not cry. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but I'm sure my little guy is up in Heaven wishing and hoping that his mommy will stop listening to such lame music.

So I've decided that I need a new musical time stamp. I need a new series of songs for this point in my life. I have been through all 5 stages of grief (and then some). Now I want songs that will give me hope for the future, or will simply remind me of this time period and how I was able to rebound from the worst experience of my life and was still able to feel happy.

And if you see me around, and I'm quietly mumbling the lyrics to a cheesy song, please save me and give me a new one, because I will undoubtedly need your help to cure my Stuckularitis.