Here is my confession.

"I have a bronze statue of myself, naked. I have these really big curls and water comes out of every curl. It's hot."
-Macy Gray

Soulful singing is where it's at, sista.  Which is why I prefer the voices of Macy Gray, India Arie, Estelle, Norah Jones, Corinne Bailey Rae, and Lauryn Hill (to name a few).  And, though it may be nice to look at Britney, we should all just admit once and for all that the girl, cannot sing.  Yeah, she's a performer, blah, blah.  I've heard it all before.  And, just like glitter nail polish, I am so over it.  My ears should not be exposed to bad singing, ever.  Neither should yours.   But, sorry they have yet to invent the "Renata's way of life pocket-guide".  I already have to deal with mundane occurrences day-to-day, my music shouldn't have to be one of them.  

Okay, back to my confession.  Because, it's obvious that this isn't really about how my musical preference is most likely better than yours.  I am feeling a little on the thankful/grateful side this a.m. and felt like I should thank the woman whose vocal melodies helped me post-break up.  Yeah, they say you shouldn't listen to depressing music when you are depressed (okay, not depressed, more like really sad) but who the eff' wants to listen to "The Macarena" when your heart has been smashed? Not I.  So, Gray, thank you.  My heart thanks you.  My family, well,having to listen to your song blaring on repeat for a good two hours at least once a month, they probably don't thank you (SORRY).   And, though I was like, I dunno, 14, every ending felt like the world was crumbling.  Again, so dramatic.  I know.  I know.  I missed my calling as an actress.

Which is why I had a playlist (you didn't?), with the most sad/depressing/I want to rip my heart out songs you can imagine.  I would sit surrounded by lavender walls, as I wrote some sad, sad, ridiculous AIM status, and let Gray erase all the hurt.  And, two hours, a phone call to my best friend and a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream later, I was fine.  Because, let's face it, a pretty young girl is resilient.  And, we have an innate ability to move the eff' on.  But, no worries, memories, last forever, right?  Or, like Kenny Powers would say, "I've had a lot of memories in my life.  Sometimes the smaller ones get dumped to make room for the bigger ones".   And that is how the cookie crumbles.

xoxo