Ten

One of the first hot days of spring, and it makes me think of putting on this Pearl Jam album. I don't listen it that frequently nowadays, but there was a time when it was on permanent rotation in my CD player. Initially that was because it was only the second CD I had ever purchased, after I got my CD player for my sixteenth birthday.

And then, of course, I became obsessed. I never connected with music before quite as much as I did with that album. I've said before that I'm not much for song lyrics, so it wasn't the words that pulled me in (even now I had to look up some of the lyrics to see specifically why I didn't identify with them. They're not even tattooed on my brain after nearly 15 years). It wasn't really their specific angst that drew me, but that they had angst.

By senior year, I grabbed hold of the grunge look like I'd been waiting my whole life for it. Hung up my first pinup poster ever, and it was Eddie. And when I heard Pearl Jam had a tour date in Wichita, I had TicketMaster on speed dial, having already arranged with one of the guys in my class--someone I might not have had the nerve to speak to outside of class were it not for our mutual appreciation of the band--to ride with him if I got lucky enough to find a ticket.

I didn't. Which was probably not a bad thing, considering I was a naive 17-year-old and had no idea what could be in store for me, roadtripping with a bunch of guys to see a raucous band with a roving mosh pit.

But it gave me the idea that next time, I really could do it if I wanted.