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     This blog post is especially for E.B.

     Before I moved to Florida, I wasn’t a fan of country music. My itunes library was filled with alternative, punk, hip-hop, and broadway showtunes. Sure, I owned a few Shania Twain songs, but who didn’t? “You’re Still the One” was a cross-over hit. There isn’t a person on the face of God’s green earth who doesn’t like that song.

     Then I moved to Florida and it all went downhill.

    My country music addiction started off like any other. I bought a Dixie Chicks album. Then, I bought a song by Rascal Flatts. “What Hurts the Most” was the most frequently played song in my itunes library. I didn’t think anything of it. Sometimes I get attached to songs only to despise them two weeks later. I’m fickle like that.

      Next thing I knew I was downloading Carrie Underwood’s new album and putting it on my ipod. I blamed it on American Idol. I was looking for a new show to fill the gaping chasm that Friends had left in my heart and so I turned to reality television. I’m not proud of what I did. I’m not excusing my actions. I’m just letting you know the thoughts behind the actions.

    Then, Taylor (aka Tay-tay) Swift came out.

     I didn’t really like “Tear Drops on My Guitar.” I thought it was thoroughly overplayed and cheesy. The Tay-tay train was racing down the tracks,  my friends and family were hopping on board, but I was able to say, “NAY! I will not ride your Tay-tay train! Begone with you!”

    One day I heard this song on the radio that I really liked. I was grooving. I was humming along with the verse and bouncing with the upbeat chorus. Then the dj announced that I had just listened to Taylor Swift’s new single “Love Story.” I was alarmed, but still I said, “NAY! I will not ride your Tay-tay train! Begone with you!” To rid myself of the soft spot I had developed for “Love Story”, I decided to analyze the lyrics and make a mockery of them.

    Me: What does she mean that he was Romeo and she was the Scarlet Letter? Psssh! That’s dumb. Way to use a literary allusion, Tay-tay Swift. Not! Ha ha! I’m awesome!

    That evening I downloaded the song this way I could show people just how idiotic that lyric was.

    It was research, really. I didn’t like the song.

    A couple of weeks passed and one of my friends told me that I “had to, had to, had to” listen to this new song she had just gotten.

     Me: This song is pretty good. The voice sounds really familiar; who’s it by?

     Friend: Taylor Swift! I love her.

     Me: Ugh, I hate Taylor Swift. She’s so…um…she’s a…such an overprocessed product of the music business. (scoff) So when is the album coming out?

    Though on the outside I was screaming, “NAY! I will not ride your Tay-tay train! Begone with you!” on the inside I was saying, “YAY! I want to ride your Tay-tay train! Joe Jonas is a pisser!”

     However, it’s time to end the charade.

    I can no longer live in my hypocrisy.

    Yesterday, I heard “Back to December” for the first time and I was touched.

   Right here, right now, I’m proclaiming it to the world: I love me some Tay-tay Swift.

   Judge me if you will, but I will not recant. I hope she comes out with albums for the next 30 years. One day, I hope she’s given a Lifetime Achievement Award of some kind and I hope the person who presents the award to her is ridden onstage in a carriage pulled by Joe Jonas and John Mayer. When I finally get married (at sixty), I’m walking down that freakin’ aisle to a Tay-tay Swift song. I’m thinking “You Belong With Me” for my walk down the aisle and then “Crazier” for my first dance with my husband.

    Also, any man who I date has to like some Tay-tay Swift.

    I’m putting that on my boyfriend application.

    Not that I have one of those saved in a file marked “PRIVATE!!!!” on my computer.

    That would be crazy.

    But not as crazy as not liking Tay-tay Swift.