Stephanie Street

Yay for Christmas break! Granted it’s only 4 1/2 days, but oh what a wonderful 4 1/2 days it will be. (Stay tuned for my next post: “A Jew Defends Christmas”.)

We had an early release at work today. Yippee! 2pm and I had the rest of the day to myself. So, merry christmas to me, i decided to get a full-body massage. The massage was quite wonderful…until when it was over i’m pretty sure the asian lady who had been rubbing me down for the past 45 minutes offered to give me a happy ending. she didn’t say it so much in those words, but it was DEFINITELY implied (“more time? you want finish?”). if you thought only guys were offered happy endings, well…you would be wrong. not only was the offer awkward and uncomfortable, but on top of that the place was basically just one big room with some opaque shades and curtains and what not up. like NO sound-proofing. at all. what happens when someone inevitably does get a happy ending? does everyone in the whole massage place get to experience it second hand? in the zen-like state that massages induce, that is the LAST thing you want to hear: the pleasure moans of a complete stranger. awwww, bleehhhhh. that noise in no way comes close to expressing the larry david-esque-ness (really??) of the situation…

anyway, i know she offers up happy endings simply to make more money, which is understandable (hey, a girl’s gotta eat). i guess in a way it was actually kind of nice of her to offer. (“awww, thanks, but no thanks “) so i gave her a big tip. though i couldn’t really look her in the eye. and regardless of how good the massage was, i’m not sure that i’ll be able to bring myself to go back…aaaaawkward.

1. The new generation has arrived: 2007 word of the year according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary: w00t. (yes, those are zeros.) FINALLY, the high-tech new age vocabulary is being accepted in the mainstream! yippee! it’s our world now. bitches.

even more evidence: the runner-up word was “facebook”, both as a noun and a verb. you know, “so i facebooked that guy i met the other day, and HE likes ‘Lost’ TOO! tee hee hee. (sigh.)”…though in cases like that, i really prefer the phrase “facebook stalk”. i feel it’s more precise.

2. Proportionate to each of their respective popularity and “importance” in society, pigeon racing definitely has a better steroid policy than baseball. In a lovely article in the Times about pigeon racing a few weeks ago, the author paints a delightful picture of the few hundred homing pigeons left in New York and their proud, dedicated owners. Showing that no sport is without its drug concerns and no athlete exempt from scrutiny, the article explains, “steroids are forbidden, and there is random drug testing at many larger races.”

One thing is for damn sure–I would definitely not want to run into a roid-raged pigeon on the street. Good lord.

3. Jack White LOVES redheads. The songs “Icky Thump”, “Fell in Love with a Girl, “Take Take Take”, and “300MPH Torrential Outpour Blues” all have references to redheads. Jack White knows where it’s at. (Though I didn’t actually learn this this week, I was reminded of it when “Take Take Take” came up on my shuffle…i **heart** technology!) Strangely enough (gingers: ew. sick. gross.), he’s not the only one: A few months ago, i was at a deli and a guy who i’ve seen around a few times said to me, “so, is it true what they say about redheads?” In true coy form, I deflected with: “I don’t know, what DO they say about redheads?” He got tongue-tied and fumbled around for something to say. I paid for my sandwich and left. typical.

4. The Jeff Buckley version of “Hallelujah” just might be the most beautiful pop song ever performed. (other suggestions requested…)

5. Rest in peace Evel Knievel. After years of “failing health”, Knievel dies at the age of 69. At his funeral, they played “My Way” by Frank Sinatra. Which is quite wonderful, if you think about it. Instead of playing a song that makes everyone break down, I’m sure that song made people smile. Remembering is good. What song do you want played at your funeral? (yikes, that’s morbid…)

6. A lot of people heart Huckabee.

7. Nino’s Pizza on St Marks and Ave A might be the best pizza in New York. Or at least that’s what it seems like at 4 am on a Saturday. It’s glorious.

8. Germs are contagious. Especially when hookah is involved. (who’d have thought??)

Joba Chamberlain just might be Superman. Joba ended the 2007 season with a 0.38 ERA, striking out 34 of the 91 batters he faced, and giving up just ONE earned run in his 19 regular season appearances. And the guy’s got balls. As if he wasn’t already a beloved figure in the Bronx, throwing two fastballs in a row over the head of Kevin Youikilis in the thick of a Yanks-Red Sox game when the Yanks were up 5-0 surely cemented the adoration of Yankee fans everywhere for the young’un with the lightning bolt right arm.

(In true Superman form, Joba does in fact have his own kryptonite. fucking BUGS?!?!)

But Joba has another claim to fame that you may not be aware of: King of Text Messaging. Yes, that’s right, according to the man himself, Joba sends 100-200 text messages a day. (Which means, if you do the math, from his debut as a Yankee until he gave up his first run, Joba sent anywhere from 3,500 to 7,500 texts.) And don’t think this is just an inflated ego wanting to sound super popular talking. How could anyone willing to look like this ( http://www.hotstovenewyork.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/oz-joba.jpg ) be anything but humble?

In an article from the forthcoming issue of ESPN Magazine (which, incidentally, gives Joba the title of the next big thing in sports–as if we didn’t know that already…), Buster Olney conducts an interview with Joba entirely over text messages. My favorite one was Joba’s reponse to Olney’s question regarding the claim that Joba is a huge UFC fan:

“It was awesome! It def is getting bigger than boxing! Even had a couple guys from Nebraska fighting! There is so much more that goes into it than boxing. You got the martial arts aspect, ground and pound. It’s just so complex in all areas of training!”

Wow. Impressively long text, Joba. As you can see, Joba LOVES the exclamation points, pointing to his zest for life! His youth and coolness factor as well as his marital arts expertise are apparent through his use of the abbrevs and phrases like “ground and pound”.

If Joba weren’t a baseball player, he’d be the most lovable frat star on the planet. He warms my heart. He really really does.

http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/news/story?id=3142534

pump up the volume pump up the volume pump up the volume DANCE DANCE

so in my pseudo-feminist cultural anthropological fervor, i talked some shit about “make it rain”. i still stand by what i said, but i had a moment last night with this song that i thought i would share.

jesse, sangita and i were standing in line in god-knows-where-williamsburg waiting to get in to the daft punk cd release party on friday night. (wow, we are so super cool.) it was fucking FREEZING outside. hoodies, ratty t-shirts, leggings, hipsters, wannabe hipsters, too-cool-to-take-part-in-a-subculture hipsters…and high school kids…were everywhere. and everyone was incredibly unhappy. the line was not moving AT ALL. we could hear the music pounding from through the door. and man were we bitter. (“but we wanna party toooooo!”)

but then, in a moment that delivered instant gratification in a way only the 21st century can, jesse whips out his iPhone and a pair of headphones, sticks one in my ear and presses play. the sound of rain begins, the beat drops, and before i know it we’re dancing along on the sidewalk in line.

i make it rain i make it rain i make it rain on them hoes…

i couldn’t help but laugh at the contradictions of the situation: listening to make it rain in that context was just the oddest thing. waiting to get into a euro-electronica dance party, here we are listening to strip club music. well actually, maybe its not so odd. but regardless, for those 5 minutes, we were definitely BY FAR the happiest people in line. we were keeping warm, and that beat…well that beat will make ANYONE shake their ass. (if it doesn’t for you, well then that means you’re either kind of old or impervious to infectious beats and allergic to rhythmic movement.) the others? yea, they were way jealous of our private little dance party. after all, is there anything better than a private little dance party? in fact, there is: a 1,000 person dance party complete with accidental grinding (and he goes, “bump bump bump bump”) and a disco ball and glow sticks and dancefloor make-outs. (You don’t need the gritty details. All you need to know is that the wait was well worth it. It was tight.)

anyway, the point is that the right song can make any situation exponentially better. and in this case, yes, the right song meant a 350 lb man talking about throwing dollar bills at a stripper just for the aesthetic appeal of it (stripper + floating money = HEAVEN).

god bless america.

speaking of which: oprah winfrey endorses barack obama as they embark on a 3 state rally tour. cnn is calling it “oprah-bama”. kind of sounds like a presidential ticket. oprah winfrey in the white house? (shudder.) new law: tax breaks for membership in oprah’s book club! (“a million little pieces” is LIFE-CHANGING.)

i had a blog once. i gave up on it within two months. i’m lazy like that. this past thursday, in a moment of inspiration, i wrote an e-mail to a few friends (actually, you are probably the only people reading this right now…) when i was at work about the recently announced grammy nominations. which then inspired me to rejoin the virtual community that we all know and love: the BLOGOSPHERE. (i am tragically 21st century.)

so here’s the e-mail, and the beginning of my blog attempt #2.

hello friends,

PREFACE: you may not agree with some of the opinions expressed below. you may also not give a shit about the grammys or mainstream music. however, neither agreeing nor caring are required, or even expected. i promise. (in fact, i’m not entirely sure i agree with myself in some of these cases. and i certainly don’t care about the grammys. i really just like talking shit.) so enjoy.

Make it Rain, by Fat Joe and Lil Wayne (Best Rap performance by a duo or group): by nominating this song, the committee is embracing not only fat joe and lil wayne, but the greater strip club world at large, particularly the cultural sensation known as “making it rain”. skeezy men, of all ages and races, rejoice. (for more information, see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pacman_Jones)

Party Like a Rockstar, by Shop Boyz (Best Rap performance by a duo or group): proving that you need no skills in hook-making nor rhyming to sell a shit ton of records. all you need is a catch phrase that makes white kids feel cool while not feeling threatened by the big scary black men. (”hey, rockstars are white and scrawny TOO!”)

Dance Tonight, by Paul McCartney (Best male pop vocal/album): an example of the phenomenon whereby once an artist reaches a certain kind of iconic status, they could take a big crap (it wouldn’t even have to be the biggest crap, a la bono on south park) or bang a bunch of pans together, and this grammy organization, whatever it is, would start creaming its collective pants. immediately.

Show Me What You Got, by Jay-Z (best rap solo performance): (see Paul McCartney)

Daydreamin’ by Lupe Fiasco and Jill Scott (best urban/alternative performance): WHOA. a deep cut from an actually good hip-hop album featuring a female vocalist who is criminally overlooked, most likely because she’s a little….rotund? you just blew my mind, sirs and madams of the academy…or something…

Makes Me Wonder, by Marroon 5 (best pop performance by a duo or group): This song makes me want to grab adam levine by the leg and hammer throw (that’s the one where you spin around and then let the thing fly through the air, right?) him off a building. him and his puppy dog yet i’m-gonna-loooooove-you-babe-even-though-you-make-me-want-to-kill-myself-cause-i’m-sexy-like-that eyes can either decide to write a good hook or just shut the fuck up.

Neon Bible, by Arcade Fire (Best Alternative Album): well, looks like you missed the boat on this one. the album before this was the good one. still, i appreciate the making up for past negligence.

Before He Cheats, by Carrie Underwood (best femal country vocal performance): you know, i actually kind of like this song. sort of the country version of “since u been gone”. (who doesn’t love that song? really.) then again, girl power was like SO Spice Girls circa 1997.

Foo Fighters (lots of things): they are the rock band that has had the staying power and fan base that warrant all these nominations? i have nothing against the foo fighters. really. they’re just so…typical? i don’t know. i can’t describe it. i just don’t get it. lingering homage to nirvana?

Amy Winehouse (also lots of things): i liked her shtick. for about 5 seconds. now the song “rehab” just makes her seem a little sad and pathetic. “and my daddy thinks i’m fine”????? maybe you shouldn’t be listening to your father…on the other hand, drugs and alcohol are cool. therefore, amy winehouse is cool. rehab is for pussies.

Umbrella, by Rihanna ft. Jay-Z (song of the year): the reason this song became so unbelievably popular? “-ella, -ella, -ella, eh, eh, eh”. kind of grating, but at the same time, so. fucking. catchy. long live rihanna. seriously.

oh, and shout out to the white stripes. and justin timberlake. that’s my shit.

happy almost friday, everyone.

p.s. ALL of the Best New Artist nominees are chicks (well, including paramore, and let’s be honest, no one knows anyone in that band besides the chick lead singer). and people say music is a boys’ club. holla.