Certain songs, they get so scratched into our souls.

So, not to let the internet all up in my personal business, a few weeks ago I met a rather nice fellow at Toad's.  We've hung out a few times since and, at his request, I put together a CD for him with some Fences tracks since I had been singing the praises of the self-titled record but he couldn't find any of it online.  While I was burning the disc this morning, something I read years ago came to mind:

I'm never listening to music with someone i go out with ever again. When they leave the song goes with them, i can't afford to lose anymore of my jams.

That statement, written by Brace Paine (from the band Gossip), has stuck with me ever since I first read it, and not just because of the grammatical flaws. 

Back when I was still working in college radio, I won a Gossip promotion that was sponsored by Myspace and one of the promoters our station dealt with.  Part of the prize pack was this odd little typewritten book of thoughts, stories, and blurbs like this, all of which were authored by Paine.  This tiny bit of text resonated with me then and is still always lurking in the back of my mind when music and relationships become intertwined.

Why?  Because it's 100% true.

There was a time when I couldn't listen to Neutral Milk Hotel for over a year.  The sad but honest reason for that?  It was a band my boyfriend had introduced me to while we were dating and, after we broke up, it hurt me to hear those same songs that I once loved.  Every note, every lyric sung in Jeff Mangum's voice, brought memories flooding back.  They reminded me that those good times, with that specific gentleman, were over and done for.  Sure, we remained friendly but friendly wasn't what I associated those songs with; I associated them with being in love.  Being in love with him.

Music, much like images and smells, can spark memories.  We associate these types of stimuli with certain people, experiences, or times in our lives.  It's something that, as much as we may try to fight it, is fairly involuntary.  I can't hear Saves the Day without thinking of a "backseat mosh pit" on the way to the Webster or my former friend Meagan.  I can't listen to their song "You Vandal" without thinking of the weeks I spent as an exchange student in Costa Rica.  I can't even hear Bayside's name without thinking about 10 person trips to Denny's (and a waitress who didn't write anything down but only forgot one soda), Pez, Lizzie McGuire, dragging mattresses down a hall or the fact that *** was, apparently "a robot."  It's the same feeling I get when I smell a particular cologne; it still makes me think of my high school crush.  It's the same way I feel every time I walk into the coffee shop where my ex used to work.  The same pang of sadness I get when I smell Tiger Balm and think about how much I miss my grandmother.  These things all bring up memories, both good and bad.

For me, music is the ultimate stimulus.  Whether it be one song, one hook, or just the name of a band.  I've always been a music aficionado.  I've listened to it.  Written about it.  Sang along to it.  Attended a ridiculous number of shows, both small and intimate and large and crowded.  My passion for music resulted in me working at a small club my freshman year of college, being actively involved in college radio for 6 years and, then, spending more than the last 4 years working at a music venue.

Every friendship, every relationship, has always left me wondering if I was going to lose another band.  Have myself robbed of another Neutral Milk Hotel.  Shared interests are what tie a lot of us together but it also makes things difficult when those bonds come undone.  They remind us of that person, those memories, that time when everything was great.  Hearing them after is just a reminder of what we once treasured but lost.  There are certain tracks I avoid because I know there's a set of lyrics that will rip my heart out.  There are entire albums I can only listen to in certain settings.  There are concerts that delight me but also still manage to leave me with a pit in my stomach.  I don't want to lose those jams.  Not for a brief time and certainly not permanently.  If only there was an off-switch that allowed you to keep music and memories entirely separate.

A Post Secret I could have easily written (but did not).

The Hold Steady line I choose for the title of this blog post is yet another line I couldn't agree with more.  Certain songs, they get so scratched into our souls.

The Power of PMA

In the last few years, I've been hearing a whole lot about PMA, or "positive mental attitude."  I've seen it mentioned in numerous blog posts and social networking statuses, seen the letters tattooed on many lovely gentlemen I know and have seen the abbreviation tattooed on many clients of my tattooing friends.  While PMA has been taking the spotlight recently, at least in my world, it's a concept that has been around for over 70 years!

If you scour the internet for information on PMA, you'll see Napoleon Hill's name pop up an awful lot.  An American author, he published Think and Grow Rich in 1937.  This work is credited with introducing the idea of PMA to the world.  According to Wikipedia (not the most reliable of sources, I know):

Positive mental attitude is a psychological term which describes a mental phenomenon in which the central idea is that one can increase achievement through optimistic thought processes. PMA implies that one has a vision of good natured change in one's mind; it employs a state of mind that continues to seek, find and execute ways to win, or find a desirable outcome, regardless of the circumstances. It rejects negativity, defeatism and hopelessness. Part of the process of achieving PMA employs motivating "self talk" and deliberate goal-directed thinking.

Some people might reject that notion and, had you thrown it at me a few years ago, I might have done the same.  I probably would have called it nonsense.  Or hogwash.  Or a few other less than polite terms.  When I entered the working world after college, I slowly but surely found myself becoming more cynical and jaded.  My tolerance was at an all-time low.  My fuse was shorter than ever before.  And I took every opportunity I could to harp on the negative and dwell on the past.  I had always been one to dwell on things and wish for a do-over but I had never let it overwhelm me.  These days, I was a full on pessimist.

After a particularly rough summer that involved my boyfriend moving 8 hours away (and our relationship ultimately dissolving) and my grandmother (my only remaining grandparent) passing away, the negativity took control almost 100%.  To me, there was no silver lining.  I didn't want anything to do with the world.  I didn't want to face my problems; I just wanted to ignore them, along with everyone and everything around me.  I wanted to be a negative Nancy and, if I couldn't be happy, I was going to pull everyone down with me.

After a year passed, I was able to sit down and reflect on all that had happened since that horrible summer.  I realized that, while it had seemed like my world was ending at the time, numerous good things had happened since those darkest moments.  I had met a handful of amazing people, been on some of the best adventures of my life, was doing well at work and had even taken on a bartending position which was beefing up my bank account.  I had little to be negative about.  I got the logo from The Hold Steady's "Stay Positive" album tattooed on my forearm as a constant reminder to not let the world drag me down.  I needed to remind myself that, even in the most awful of times, your mindset makes all the difference in the world.  You can't just wish away your problems but harping on them and refusing to see the potential that the world has to offer doesn't do you any good either.

This arm has since grown into nearly a full sleeve of reminders.

In the time that has passed since getting that tattoo, I've become a full-blown believer of PMA.  Yes, you can't make your problems and shortcomings go away by imagining where you want to be, but it certainly helps to put on blinders and just see the carrot dangling from the string ahead of you.  I've spent more than a year working on focusing on the positive side of things, pushing myself to attain my goals instead of second guessing my chances of achieving them, and it has been paying off to an extent to which I cannot describe.

As of right now, 2012 promises to be a great year (if not one of the best) for me.  Several of my goals appear to be within my reach and, even if I face a few setbacks, I plan on seeing the positive in all of those experiences.  I will not belittle myself over "failures" because failure at least means I'm trying.  The world isn't going to hand me (or you!) anything; you have to go out and grab it for yourself.  As Napoleon Hill wrote, "Every adversity, every failure, every heartache carries with it the seed of an equal or greater benefit,"  and those are words that I truly believe.

New Years Goals (because resolutions are for suckers)

A few years ago, I resolved to stop making New Years resolutions once and for all.  Instead, I decided I was going to set goals for myself.  None of this "I'm going to do this, this, and this in this arbitrary time frame" business that most people do as the calendar year nears its end.  Instead, I was going to set healthy goals that I could work on over time.  Some might be achieved easily and in a short time period while others might be a lifelong process marked with moments of success but never a distinct completion.  I allowed myself to set new goals throughout the course of the year; they didn't all have to be decided on December 31 or January 1 and they certainly did not need to come to fruition by the following December 31st.  This method has not only been successful but incredibly rewarding.

For 2011 I decided I was going to: stay positive, start & finish a 365 photo project on facebook and tumblr, eat better/stress less/exercise more (encompassed under "get healthy"), indulge in creative projects, budget my time and money better, and bake and cook more.

My 365 is complete and I'm working on another, a 366, for this Leap Year.  I've held craft nights at my apartment and worked on solo endeavors.  I've tried out more new recipes than I can remember.  My eating & exercising has been a rollercoaster of good and bad which I intend to devote more attention to this year.  My level of stress, despite some pretty rough times, is something I have been able to keep in check better than I have in the past.  And, as for staying positive, I give myself a solid A in that department.  My bank account is growing.  I tend to give more time to work than anything else and find myself slacking when I do actually have free time, so, that goal is definitely going to get revisited in 2012.

Last year I set all my goals out in my trusty notebook so I could look back at them any time I wanted to.  This year, I stumbled across another way to do it.  I was reading Apartment Therapy this morning where I found this post.  I thought the idea of turning your goals (or New Years Manifesto) into a creative, aesthetically pleasing work of art was fantastic.  And for someone who relies heavily on visual inspiration, I can't believe the idea had never crossed my mind before.  Since it's been an awfully slow day at work, I decided to whip up one of my own.

 

I used the poster to highlight my most important goals for the year.  The ones that I truly believe will make me feel better as I work to achieve them.  I left the self-critical ones off the list because, let's face it, the fact that I weigh the most I ever have will be nagging at me every time I look in a mirror.  I don't need "lose weight" staring me in the face on this, too.  Besides, the "lose weight" ties into the "get healthy" goal from 2011, which I am still plugging away at.  For the rest of 2012, this 11"x17" piece of paper will inspire me every time I exit my bedroom.  It will remind me of what I want to be and motivate me to attain it.

2011 provided me with some of the best moments of my life, as well as some of the worst.  I'm ready to move forward into a new year with new aspirations.  I wish you all the best of luck with your own goals (or resolutions, if you must).