When I was a one-woman arm…and some other stuff I was obsessed with as a teen

I got really nostalgic the other day listening to an Ani Difranco cassette tape in my car.  I haven't listened to her in years, but I still remember every single word, every inflection of her voice, every little warble and giggle.  I found myself singing at the top of my lungs with a big grin on my face, my voice cracking, on the verge of sentimental tears.  I remembered the concerts, being surrounded by hundreds of singing women, feeling that surge of energy and love and pride in my chest...