I Dig Music.

"Baseball is what gets inside you. It's what lights you up, you can't deny that."

A favorite quote from Jimmy Dugan in A League of Their Own, played tremendously by Tom Hanks.

Do you want to know what gets inside me, what lights me up? It is music. Music inspires me and motivates me. I have to be listening to it constantly, some may say to a fault.

"Kris."

"Kris?"

"Kristen!"

"KRISTEN!"

My co-workers repeatedly have to call my name in getting my attention in our quad. I yank the ear buds out of my ears and respond to them. Apologizing profusely but immediately getting back into my zone. I am listening to whatever incredible tune is blaring out of my laptop via a perfect little invention called Yahoo Launchcast Radio.

Nestled in my big tan couch in my vanilla little apartment, I am hysterically crying. No, I am not upset, I did not receive some unfortunate news. No, it's not a tear jerker movie on Lifetime or even Grey's Anatomy. American Idol is on. (Insert Judgement Here) I know how corny this show is, for lack of a better term. I know how much "fluff", product placement and general CRAP is involved. I do not care. I love music and anyone who makes it (or tries to).

My love for music has always existed, but in the past few years it has intensified. The aforementioned Yahoo Launchcast has aided this effort. For just 30 bucks a year, I can listen to unlimited hours of My Station, a radio station customized for me. Much like Tivo (another gem of modern technology), Launchcast recommends to me artists that I might enjoy, based on my current preferences. How much do I love the little man inside my laptop who sees my love for Rod "The Mod" Stewart and introduces me to The Faces, Rod's former band? In minutes, I am rocking out to "Stay With Me" and completely oblivious to the world of work / gossip / negativity around me. I am certain that if, for some reason, the company I work for no longer allows us to listen to music via the Internet, I will metaphorically jump ship.

Along with my profound affection comes the constant need to defend my eclectic taste and the urge to introduce people (my friends) to songs and artists that I have recently fallen in love with. Again, some may say to a fault.

Heated debates about "how much country music sucks" have ultimately ended with me getting up and making a beeline for the restroom. When one of my only male co-workers (ignorantly) proclaimed that "Bruce Springsteen never made a good song, and they all sound the same anyway", I nearly choked on my Diet Coke. How can anyone make such blanket statements? Further, is anyone forcing these people to listen to country music or The Boss? Exactly. Don't knock what I am listening to unless I am blasting it out of a boom box a la Radio Raheem in "Do The Right Thing."

When a song gets inside of me and lights me up, I want everyone in my life to feel the same light.

"No, but listen to the words, they're amazing."

"Wait, gobackgoback, listen to this part."

"Here it comes that line I was telling you about."

"Didja hear it?! I love it."

Sometimes it works! Jackie is musically impressionable and holds no discrimination. Driving in my car, she now requests Kenny (Chesney) and John (Mayer). Man, I love that about her. Justina has much of the same tastes and when I send her an instant message with a line from some obscure indie love song, she eagerly replies with "amazing." These women know good music and are open minded. Donna Summer? Absolutely.

Lately, I've noticed that my passionate affair with music has increasingly begun to infiltrate the rest of my life, namely my relationships. I am never without my iPod (if I am alone) and there are constant lyrics in my head for every situation I encounter. The words "it's just like that song..." are way too often falling out of my mouth. Consequently, I am comparing the lyrics to my current favorite song to the ups and downs of being a 26 year old, single, working woman living alone. Bad idea? I had never really thought about it. Is my life ever going to live up to a romantic rock ballad by The Fray? To use a tired cliche, only time will tell. In the meantime, I'll at the very least enjoy the soundtrack of my world.