In addition to my own brand of bounce therapy, I find listening to music at a deafening volume an excellent stress-buster. Some days, no sooner than B arrives home from work, I fly out the door under the guise of needing milk/bread/arsenic and in that three minute drive to the supermarket, I sing at the very top of my lungs to the very loudest music I have on hand.
A few nights ago, I stumbled across an old CD and found a song I used to love back in the day. And on this particular day, I loved it still. Fear Factory, people. Heavy. Dark. Loud. And just what the doctor (read: shrink) ordered. I was transported back to my youth. A time of reckless abandon, of smoking anything that caught on fire, a time when my breasts matched.
If you are not into metal, I suggest you don't click the below.
But tell me, do you hear the music of your youth (read: pre the old ball and chain and subsequent offspring) and return to a state of exuberance? And feel like drinking vodka from a can?
Now, just because I'm feeling self -indulgent, here is a song that just thrills the pants right off me. Literally. As in, if B had this playing in the boudoir when we retired for the evening, he would get laid. Probably.
And, speaking of getting laid, Chris Cornell. Hello lover!
Care to reminisce with me? Did you do the nineties the way I did? All grungey and whatnot?
It's Saturday night. I'm home with my love. The babes slumber. And we are not far off it ourselves. Sad.
Let's all listen to NIN and remember a time when we would have been out dancing our arses off…