This American Life

Nashville, TN: Despite the sometimes ugly mess of a failed relationship, you can be comforted in the small gifts you gain from time spent with that person. Specifically, musical gifts. I am grateful for discovering Bread through a first love (even though Everything I Own seems pretty morbid for a 17-year-old "our song"), the silliness and musical joy of the Barenaked Ladies from the college he-broke-my-heart-and-I-don't-know-if-I'll-ever-recover love (who I'm now friends with on Facebook... guess time did its job afterall) and the skill of looking behind the boy band and into the true country genius of a Monkee, by the one who placed me on a pedestal.

Tonight, while spending my Sunday evening with Ira Glass (which is a standing date on most Sundays while in town) and a cup of hot tea, pondering life's relationship mysteries (just saw SATC 2 - pardon my faux-Carrie-Bradshaw-writer-envy), I take a moment to be thankful to one who made me laugh and let me be a surrogate pet owner for a spell.

As the coffee shop closes, I'll head home to wait for the boy who has become a bigger part of this American life than I had expected. And perhaps we'll sit in silence... which is surprisingly a lovelier sound than I've heard in a very long time.