I came up with a few cheesy titles about music, including "Music of the Night," but decided to just go with, "MUSIC." Simple, yet satisfying.

I've been compiling a list of the US of A's virtues since I've been back here. Blueberries. Wide parking spots. Resale shops. That kind of thing. But today I added something I didn't even realize I've been desperately missing.

Music. 

I got really into music in college. I burned dozens of CDs and listened to music every waking hour. (I later had a consciouses fit and threw them all way. Dang Napster.) I bopped to music when I woke up, on the way to class and while I studied. And I sang all the hours in between. Music relaxed me, excited me, angered me, and comforted me - whatever my mood, there was a song. 

On the way to a test it was Streisand's "Don't Rain on my Parade."

At two-in-the-morning tank top parties we boogied to "Moulin Rouge." 

When the crush was crushing on someone else, Les Miserables' "On My Own" never failed to let me enjoy my wallowing. 

Everyone has a song for various selves- the sick song, the cry song, the "Had a Bad Day" song. 

My Man is equally obsessed with music, and our various apartments and houses were always booming with everything from movie soundtracks to jazz to classical to Guns n Roses. (Ooooo, sweeeeet child ah miiiiiine!) 

Until we moved to Brazil.

First and foremost, the whole throwing-away-all-our-CDs bit really cramped our style. I must acquire those songs legally, but the mere volume of Lost Muses is rather staggering. It's like doing my genealogy, for crying out loud.

But most of all, we just don't like Brazilian music. 

Every once in a while I throw on a CD at home, but frankly, it just adds to the cacophony that is three boys. I can't listen in the car because - well, there is too much. I will sum up. (Ten points goes to whoever knows what movie that's from.)

Last year we sent in my car for some repairs. My Man took out the radio so that it wouldn't get stolen. (All Brazilian car radios are easily take-outable for that precise reason.) Well, he put it somewhere safe ... and promptly forgot where he hid it. We never found it, and we still haven't bought a new one. Ahem.

Sometimes I really like driving without a radio. It allows time for serious reflection - too often there's so much white noise in our lives that we don't have a few minutes to really think. Some of my best conversations with Heavenly Father are in the car. Just me and my musings. 

So it wasn't until I got here that I realized that I have really MISSED all that white noise! 

My brothers are very kindly updating me on all the fabulous songs that I've missed out on. And I've missed a lot. Driving in the car with one of my best friends last week, I commented that I really liked the song with which she was singing along. She looked at me askance and informed me that the song was now considered 'old news.' I've truly been in a media black hole for four years.

Tonight I attended the Michigan Concert Choir's performance before the church's Christmas broadcast. They were ... incredible. Every note, every word crystal clear. I personally think they should sell CDs, become famous, and rule the world. 

Those Christmas hymns really set my soul on fire, you know? What is it about music that gets under your skin and makes you feel whatever the composer wants you to feel? I wanted to stand up, sing, shout HALLELUJAH, and let everyone know that I could FEEEEEEEEEEEEEL THE LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORD! 

I love music. And I'm so glad it seems to have missed me, too.