Score.

After purchasing Toad the Wet Sprocket's "All I Want" this morning on iTunes, my friends over at Apple suggested I take a look at a few iMixes that would interest me based on my recent inquiry. Among the slew of "90s essentials" soundtracks, I clicked and stumbled my way to what I think Apple intended for me to discover all along.

They want me to be a soccer mom.

Here's the thing. I may still own the oversized button-down jean shirt, but that does not make me a soccer mom! For crying out loud, I'm only 25 years old. I'm not married. I have no children. And I've actually never played soccer outside the confines of 10th grade gym class. So why, Apple, why showcase the "Soccer Mom Chillout" mix as though I've been waiting on this for years?

I turned my head from the screen, disgusted with Apple for converting my taste in David Gray & Ray Charles into a collection of songs whose cover is illustrated by a snapshot of shopping carts emblazoned with Varsity-esque letters spelling out "Soccer Mom." I sighed. Could I turn back to the screen and confront a future of tangerine-sharing, umbro-buying, cleat-cleaning work? (Is this even what soccer moms do?)

I swiveled my chair back towards the computer and breathed deeply. "Soccer Mom Chillout / Various Artists," it read. "The Basics: You've got the minivan and the checkered vinyl sticker, but do you have the tunes to match your soccer mom image? A solid start is offered here, including the neo-jazz of Norah Jones, the rap-inflected R&B of Lauryn Hill, and firework finale presentations of Coldplay, David Gray, and the Dixie Chicks." I perused the anthology of songs slowly (these are the songs of my inevitable life after all; it couldn't hurt to reflect upon them), my eyes widening as it dawned on me - or rather, as it hit me like a lead brick falling from the sky - : I already AM a soccer mom. In one form or another, I own all of these songs. From Sarah McLachlan's "Ice Cream" to Moby's "Porcelain" to Bonnie Raitt's "I Can't Make You Love Me" and back around to U2's "Stuck In A Moment," I own all of them. And what's more, I love them.

And that was only disc one. The complete set is $74.25 worth of 75 crazy good tunes, easily half of which I've had in my own collection for years. As I watched the dust settle, the destruction of my soccer mom stereotype laying in waste around me (the whole of it being "whoever she is, she's NOT me"), I heard a trumpeted fanfare.

Read aloud (in my head, of course; private office or no, I'm not crazy), the description of "Soccer Mom Chillout: The Complete Set" spoke to me like a welcome from an angel, floating above the goal line: "Sometimes you need to turn your life off for an hour ... or three ... replacing the screaming kids and cross-town traffic with lightly sweetened catharsis." I nodded vigorously. "Our suggestions should do the trick by maintaining a tranquil mood with dozens of digestible takes on country, pop, R&B, bedroom electronica, rock and vocal jazz. Just don't forget to breathe as the gentle strum of guitar strings, persistent throb of bath-salt beats, and friend-next-door vocals lull you to the edge of sleep."

Now, to be honest, I hate being boxed-in, categorized, stereotyped, and I will fight you if you ever tell me that I am just a soccer mom. But here, even without any kids to speak of, I knew:

I had arrived.