Love.  That's an interesting thing.  When I really need to edit, I listen to a playlist of songs that are loud and upbeat to keep me productive.  The other day I started to listen to this playlist, "Fall into Love", instead and something interesting happened.  I was more productive, and I couldn't stop smiling.  Editing weddings and witnessing two people incredibly in love already makes me smile and so does listening to this playlist, but together I was super smiles all day.  I really love to see people in love.

I compiled the playlist from songs that made me happy, songs I'd fall in love with autumn to.  And actually, ironically, most of the songs are about not being loved.  The theme of unrequited love resonates through many of the lyrics.  "It hurts the longer this goes." "You said you never wanted to date me." "If you ask me how I'm doin I would say I'm doin just fine. I would lie and say that you're not on my mind."  I wonder what that says about me.  I do enjoy witty lyrics and well-written songs.  But is it strange that I'm drawn to these sad lyrical songs?

I'm 27, and I know less about love and relationships as I grow older.  Maybe I was just misinformed when I was younger, but as I get older I realize there's so much I still need to learn about me and life and what love is.  Even love apart from a romantic relationship.  What does it really mean that I love my family or my friends?  Am I loving?  I have head knowledge, but I've been challenging myself recently to put love into action.  My life is full of little quandaries.  I feel so alive nowadays, but at the same time old hurts continue to paralyze certain aspects of my life.  How can that be?  Maybe it's how these songs can have such upbeat melodies with such sad lyrics.  There's that balance I suppose that propels us all through life.

Hmm... I don't think this makes sense anymore.  I'm rambling.  But enjoy the playlist and listen to what I hear when I'm walking around or editing.

[8tracks height="250" playops="" url=""]

Blue Eyes by Drew Davis The One you Say Goodnight to by Kina Grannis Walking On a Dream by Empire of the Sun Strawberry Swing by Coldplay Kiss Me Slowly by Parachute I Can't Wait by Runner Runner Good life by OneRepublic Not Over You by Gavin DeGraw Stereo Hearts (f. Adam Levine) by Gym Class Heroes Pumped Up Kicks by Foster the People Gonna Get Over You by Sara Bareilles Love Vigilantes by Iron & Wine Rewind by Goldspot Thunder Clatter by Keegan DeWitt Best Days by matt White Love Like This (f. Sean Kingston) by Natasha Bedingfield.


It was December, and I woke up with chills, feeling lifeless hidden under a rolling sea of comforters.  I bitterly pictured the effort it would take to fall out of bed and carry myself to the bathroom to get ready.  That night I was to meet Christie at Coda for a night of food and jazz.  I had spent previous days anxious to listen to some good live music, but my desire to go was getting pummeled by my aching body.  Still, not wanting to flake out on my friend, I focused what was left of my strength to get ready and make the long trek to the Mission in San Francisco.  Feverish and slightly delusional, I was near to tears in pain as I rode bart.  Before meeting with Christie, I made a stop to Walgreens to collect some friends: tylenol, cold/flu/headache medicine, orange juice and a jug of bottled water. Meeting up with Christie, we walked a couple blocks (well, she scampered in the way a petite person like she is does, and I trudged along as a bigger, sicker person does) to Coda.  It was a gorgeous interior with exposed, natural wood rafters and a welcoming mood.  I ordered truffle ravioli and guzzled hot water.  The searing hot liquid coated my throat with a soothing effect, and I started to feel like my sickness would allow me to enjoy the night.

A small jazz group started off the night with an assortment of original music, then later joined a big band for some delightful Christmas, jazz and big band music.  For a moment I forgot the sickness growing inside me.

By the end of the night I desperately needed some sleep, floating away in a daze from the restaurant back home.  Despite my sickness, I deeply enjoyed the night at Coda with deliciously sinful food and heart-lifting music.

(I spent the following two weeks sick in bed.)