star miles.

Listening To: Sweet Carolina by Ryan Adams
On a housekeeping note: Google Reader is vanishing soon. And I know some of you follow along via Google Reader (I like Google Reader too). My tech-savvy peeps tell me Bloglovin is a fun way to keep up with blogs. I'm just learning how to use it, but I've added an icon over on the right side of the page (just past the uber-cute logo) if you'd like to follow along that way as well. (If you know of another fun way to keep up with blogs, let me know in the comments!) Whichever way you click through, thanks for reading along!

My days aren’t full of movie moments - minutes or hours or plot-twists that would interest many people. But my days are still full of sweet moments I love. Sometimes: 

Rain clatters across the roof. 

My dog curls up in my lap to take a nap. 

I completely, totally scorch bake white chocolate banana nut muffins. 

I listen to Emmylou Harris records.

I write stories. 

I wear bright borderline-tacky pink lipstick. 

I call my best friend. 

I kiss. 

I cry.

I dye my hair.  

But if I had to write my life; actually script it in such a way that it had story-momentum, I’d probably have to make stuff up. Or leave a lot of sweet details out. Even though the sweet details are what I love the most. 

But Sunday night was movie-good. 

Because I was driving home from downtown. And the sky was dark, but the city was just waking up. 

         Cities are night-owls; 

         they screech like sirens 

         and rock songs 

         and rusty breaks. 

I sometimes like that sound. I like it a lot.
       
And the weather was perfect. March roared into the mountains, but the roar was so soft on Sunday night that I rolled all the windows down. 

I think it would have been a good scene. 

The focus would start with my hand on the steering wheel. I'm wearing a leopard print cuff and bright red nail polish. I reach over to click to the next song. 

The camera pulls back further, and my hair is down, blowing in my face. I start mouthing the the lyrics to a song I love so much. Because that song IS this moment. It’s every moment, every time I hear it. I’m driving between the city and the mountains. I’m surrounded by music, and springtime wind, and by the steady murmur of traffic. 

 Welcome home. 

Come and go.

Pass on through.

When you drive that stretch of road at night, the interstate curves up the mountain in such a way that you see the city lights, and the lights from the houses scattered up and down the hills. 

So in that perfect blink of a moment, it looks like you’re driving through some hidden valley full of fallen stars. 

And it’s like the stars are waiting, for now. 

(But they’re shining, even while they wait.)

Any minute, they’ll shoot off skyward and find a little speck of midnight to cling to, some perfect little spot a million miles away from here. And they’ll look back on this space, this moment right before they flew, and think that was a good place too. 

So that's the scene: I’m driving the star-mile. I’m stretching my hand out the window, so I can feel wind and lyrics and shooting stars burn past my fingertips. 

And right at that moment, when I hit the star-mile, the song finds it’s best lyric, and the timing is perfect. Just like some really awesome chick-flick. 

“Up here in the city, it feels like things are closing in,

The sunset’s just my light bulb burning out.

I miss Kentucky, and I miss my family.

Oh the sweetest winds they blow across the south.” 

And I think: 

I love this moment. Every bit of it. I could cry, I love this moment so much. 

It would be a quick scene; but it would be a good one. I’d fade out smiling. I’d fade out to a Ryan Adams song. 

I’d fade out against a thousand shining stars.

If your life was a movie, what would the soundtrack be like for this season/scene? (I'm in need of some new music, so make it a long soundtrack! :)