32 Flavors

There is an epic and ephemeral veil that clothes so many parts of high school. I will never hear Ani DiFranco for the first time again. But I remember that first time. I was in the passenger seat of my friend Brenna's car. She had "Not A Pretty Girl" playing on the tape deck. "32 Flavors" came on. It spoke to me. Meant things I'd never heard before in song lyrics. It sang to me. Melodies I - to this day - hear, that make me feel transcendent, well, over everything in my life.

I'm listening to it now. I have chills. I remember how I listened to this song on repeat for probably an hour my senior year of high school, while at boarding school in Switzerland. The Swiss Alps and Lake Lugano through my window, "I am 32 flavors and then some," through my boom box speakers.

...and then. Literally. Literally, as I finish typing the previous sentence, I see a new email pop up in my inbox. Brenna has friended me on Facebook. Literally, I swear to G-d. I didn't make this up. And I had no idea where this blog post was headed when I started typing. It just seems to have written itself, as I typed her name and that memory and this song back into existence in my life. After all these years.

What are the odds. Really, what are the odds?

And what is the meaning?

Well...maybe those moments aren't so ephemeral. Maybe there is something powerful about remembering and bringing yourself back to basic spaces of newness, because they open you up to present moments of rebirth.

The "re" prefix was created for a reason.