Chasing Identity

Last night, Jenna and I had a conversation entirely suited for this moment in both of our lives. We were discussing any idea that came up in my popular music class; that, in one way or another, we all choose a medium through which we define our identities. Some people are inexorable attached to their fraternity, others are endlessly pursuing higher education, even non-identity is an identity because we are products of commerce at least. I, along with Jenna, define quite a large bit of my life through music—a soundtrack for everything. If you asked me to remember prom or the day I graduated with a BFA or the great Spring Break musical migration with Jenna, I would say Elvis and Guns N’ Roses and Calla.

I told Jenna that, after making a special road trip playlist for her (comprised mainly of the CDs I imported for her before Canada), I had this odd feeling that Jenna and her music didn’t match. I can’t exactly articulate what I mean, but I just don’t see the connection. Jenna told me that maybe it was because she’s an entirely different person outside of Leeds; maybe, she’s not as much Leeds as she though; maybe…she actually likes it here. We’re both beginning to understand how incredibly important this road trip is. I’ve been in the same spot, mentally and geographically, for a long time. I suppose it’s reasonable that I might just have assumed a Bowling Green identity.

Going West this summer, Jenna and I will listen to over 7,000 songs on my scarily telepathic iPod; we’ll form new perceptions of what sound means to experience; we’ll see 7,000 miles of NEW. Will Jenna stick around and get a PhD somewhere in Cali? Will I end up sweating my ass of in Arizona with Coop next door? It’s funny, now that I think about what was going through my head last night, sitting in a bar, 5 or 6 beers and a couple shots, having a light introspective chat with Jenna…in a bar called the Fishbowl!

“We’re just two lost souls living in a fishbowl year after year.” --Pink Floyd