Written by Emily
I had spent days in smelly dorm rooms flipping through cd jackets and scrolling playlists on desktop computers. The burned cd had to be just right because it was the gift after all, the only gift I could afford after spending what must have been my food money for the week on a 3.5 hour bus ticket. There was so much riding on that one shiny disc with a handmade cover–a collage of romantic images like two children holding hands in the rain wearing Gorton’s fishermen rain slickers because what’s more romantic than that? Nothing. The music though, it had to be perfect; it had to tell the story of our entire relationship and convey just the right sentiment for this Valentine’s Day weekend and the biggest surprise I’d ever planned. No pressure.
I closed the lid to my awesome discman, watched the cd spin and listened to the finished product for at least 3 of the 3.5 hour trip while I planned the weekend in my head and fell in love with love.
Outside the bus station, I used the following week’s food money on a cab. I arrived at the residence tower with too much product in my hair, a slew of pimples on my forehead, and a song mix in my backpack that would no-doubt change the very course of my life. This was not the time to down play the drama.
A few years later, I married that boy from the residence tower. It was the cd. I’m sure of it.
Fade Into You, Mazzy Star
That’s right. Mazzy Star. Fade into You. I first heard this song in the movie Angus, one of the best Friday night movies my dad ever chose. I fell in love with underdogs everywhere and with this song that sent me spinning in an ethereal slow dance every time I heard it.
Sweetest Thing, U2
“A blue-eyed boy meets a brown-eyed girl”…when a song is probably written with you in mind, you have to put it on a cd. You know, like brown-eyed girls leaping onto dance floors and singing Van Morrison’s song to each other while they point and bounce. Because they’re singing their song, theirs, the one dedicated to them from someone somewhere…maybe just in their heads, but real. And the Sweet Carolines, too. Same thing.
At My Most Beautiful, REM
My man loved REM, so I loved REM. “I’ll count your eyelashes” (but not in a creepy way.)
Crash into Me, DMB
I never rode the DMB bandwagon, but I danced next to it a few times. This song found its way onto more than one burned cd that I kept on the pleather bench seat of my rusty blue pick-up. So naturally it made it onto a cd for my boo.
Just imagine. There are 12 more songs like those on the mix. I know. You’re sorry I’m taken because you feel like you’re drowning in a sea of romance, and you desperately want my digits. It’s the cd. I’m sure of it.