So, here's the thing: I'm a Taylor Swift girl. I guess that makes me a Swiftie, but back before that term was coined, when she released her debut album and we were still buying CDs for that aftermarket 6-disc changer, Taylor was the disc that never left. When Fearless came out? Well, "Lovestory" became a very real part of my life.
Some of you might not know this, but when Old Man River and I fell in love, it wasn't all sunshine and roses--crazy, I know. First, because he was already slated to move to Argentina, and last because being 22, as Taylor said last night, is fraught with obstacles. You're old enough to make choices, but everybody still tells you you're young; you're old enough to be in love, but not so old as to stay there.
But we did. After two countries, three states, and one dramatic declaration on Old Man River's part (relax, I had already made mine), we stayed in love. And when Old Man River asked me to marry him, it was "Lovestory" that came on the radio when he got down on one knee, and three years later when I went into Labor with Olivia Anne, it was "Lovestory" that came on the radio (98.1 KBUL) when we were driving.
And so it was that "Lovestory" became our family anthem of sorts.
This week, week 12, I got to see Taylor Swift perform it live, and let me tell you, she's worth the interruption and much, much more.
For most people, a concert is something exciting. For me, it means a big city and people and crowds and a pre-determined amount of social time, and wow, those are not my things. It also meant staying up late, which we know I am incredibly bad at. But not last night. Last night, I sang and stood and danced with Liv and my nieces, Maddy and Whitney, until almost midnight, when I only panicked a little at exiting a stadium at the same time as 60, 000 other people.
This week, the interruption was planned, and still, it was more than I expected. It reminded me of that small one bedroom apartment and Boboli pizza, red wine and a television music station with Old Man River. And it reminded me of dropping the F word even as River turned the truck on and smiled at me because our song was coming to the hospital with us. And it allowed me to pick my daughter up off her chair that she'd been sleeping in, and sing to Mastermind with her, even when her boots were off and she was too tired to take the soda the waitress tried to give her. Yet another memory Taylor Swift gave us.
I'm going to take week 13 to recover. Happy days, loves. xoxo