“i use music to speak when words fail me…”
it’s funny how when we’re happy we just enjoy the music, but when we’re sad or feeling overwhelmed with life we really start to understand the lyrics. this has happened to me infinity times in the past six months. the songs i listen to hit deep…i don’t just hear the lyrics, i feel them. it’s been a very powerful thing…and they become the soundtrack to my life…carrying me through all the good days…and the occasional bad ones. music has always been something i have connected with deeply. i sing, i attempt to play guitar, i write songs. lately, with all that’s been happening and all the changes my life has undertaken, my guitar mostly just sits in the corner of my studio apartment staring at me and taunting me with things like, “you’re a loser for not playing me.” “you’re never going to become an awesome rock star if you don’t stop overthinking it and pick me up and jam.” so mostly i just stare back at my bella (yes i named my guitar–and not after that wimpy twilight character, but after the jack johnson song) and throw a few glares in and feel like a musical failure.
maybe it’s because with all the silly things that happen in my daily life, the hours to create, practice and play my music are lacking. it could possibly be that i choose distractions more than focus these days. but when you have the universe pouring humor over you like pig’s blood at carrie’s prom, you have to put on your water wings and rock those flippy floppy’s and walk on (i prefer to dance) towards the next thing…and stick to the sick beats and rockin’ tunes that other musicians create for you (thank you macklemore and ryan lewis, lupe fiasco, B.O.B, ray lamontagne, imagine dragons, led zeppelin, the rolling stones, and all you other greats for being my survival soundtrack). speaking of water wings…remember that comment i made in a previous episode about how you have to keep swimming? i’ve become a mermaid. no really you guys…
lately it seems i’ve been swimming through a sea (ok it more resembles a pond) of how do we put this…younger men (let’s be serious…boys). something about the age thing has me thrown these days which is mostly ridiculous because let’s be honest, i’m a 27 year old young woman not some 50 year old cougar hitting on the cubs in the dating world. but this number = 25 has me acting fickle. i know, i know…age is just a number…and i’ve never been all that great with those number things, but it just sounds so young. i will admit it’s nice to be getting some attention. dating as a twenty something is the most terribly awkward fabulous situation ever. and let me tell you, i can be charming and flirty and pretty great company sometimes, but i am sooo awkward this time around. i don’t even know what to say, what to do, how to be. i say, “yeah sure, i can handle a chill hangout dinner thing,” and then i immediately smack my forehead and decide i’ll be sick that day (whatever day that decides to be) and i won’t be available to attend. it’s getting ridiculous. my poor awesome friends have probably been doing a fair amount of smacking their own foreheads with the ridiculousness that is me as of late. so they keep encouraging me…you know? to put myself out there…see what else the world has to offer…be open to something new…blah blah blah. sure thing, will do…just right after this next episode of mad men and when i finally get to my laundry and magically decide that a cute and somewhat sexy outfit is more comfortable than these oversized sweatpants.
much like my guitar has been taunting me…so has the idea of dating. “you’re a loser for not saying yes to that cute boy and staying home in your sweatpants. they won’t love you less if you take a night off to wear your skinny jeans instead.” “you’re never going to become fabulously charming if you don’t stop overthinking things and put yourself out there.” hi my name is hallie lauren o’reilly and i am a dating failure. perhaps since words seem to fail me in the realm of dating i could just be awesome and walk around with a boom box blaring the music that speaks for me?
my friends are right though…25 year olds or 35 (fingers crossed that particular age is more mature…like a fine wine)…it’s time to get out there in the dating pool (shallow or not) and practice my flirting skills because i have to be well seasoned in the art of flirtation so i come across as a charming american adventuring on a new continent in check it…7 months!!! so when you see me out there swimming (or wading rather) you’ll know exactly who i am…the cool one who traded her sweats for her skinny’s and some bumpin’ beats…even if it’s just for one night.