Songs and the inner parts of the human Krista.

Tori’s on. 

There’s a frog on her toe. She’s more than okay with it, so I enjoy the song. It’s melodious, soothing---and I feel like sitting on an open porch somewhere where there’s corn growing all around me and Bobby is sitting next to me---still with me after all these years through the messed up Krista and the Krista that has grown into the woman next to him; the one sipping homemade lemonade and singing along to the song in her rocking chair. The woman he loves like no other and has watched flourish like the veggies he tends to every day, but instead of watering and feeding Miracle Gro, he kisses and makes love to.

-One day girl you’re gonna learn to make them crawl make em grow tall but have the grace to be a lady with disgrace....and you fry them taters and you make them with lady’s hands..you’re my pappy’s baby-

Switch.

So my mood changes immediately upon hearing Mister Dave Matthews. “Angel” is on and it makes me wanna tease my man in NYC, while walking in the wee hours of the morning on 52nd street (that’s the only street that is remotely New Yorkish to me, as I have never actually been there) after some fantastic show we just watched. I’m in some black shiny dress and he’s wearing a trench. We’re chic--we’re in love--and the kids are home.

The streets are lit because as we all know, it’s the city that never sleeps and we are more than taking advantage of that sweet little fact.

-Why do I beg like a child for your candy?

Why do I come after you like I do, I love you?

Wherever you are

I swear

You’ll be my angel-

Switch. 

Pretty. Brown. Eyes.

I’m back in the 7th grade--I’m at a school assembly. My friend Yolanda who turned out to be the biggest chola in the history of the world was caught macking with my crush. Of course he was a little gangsta guy---David. I was devastated. This song was playing prior to the assembly and I thought the world was over. Little did I know that somewhere Robert V., an accountant at Arthur Anderson at the time, would rescue me in 9 years and love me more than unconditionally. He would love me and all of my excess baggage--because I had plenty, believe me. He would know me, love me, and through all my early-mid-late twenties shit he would stand by me because he knew I had to grow, albeit on his time, but he would stay and hold my hand and hope----and it would all be worth it because in the end I would understand me and my situation and who I was and who I was becoming. 

I would have struggles and our marriage would be in question for a brief period of time, but our love never wavered. We would get through it all and love each other more deeply than we ever thought possible. We would start over. 

-You keep holding on to your thoughts of rejection

If you’re with me you’re secured

mmm mmm-

Um.

So.

Itunes is nutso.

I have enough music to last 3-4 weeks straight.

I should try that someday.

Turn it on til it turns itself off.

Thank you, iTunes.

Tonight was gravy.

Flowing and lump-free. 

Music makes the world go round.