Stephanie Street

Ew. What. a. gross. day. After a beautiful weekend spent in the burbs (it is awfully nice to see lots of trees), I come back to this shit? That combined with the mass exodus to the west that most of my office took, lasting the next few days, it’s a very very sleepy Monday. What to do? Blast the tunes, of course.

So here’s my Rainy Day Monday Sucks So Let’s Make it Better playlist. Tuning out the clicks and beeps, cocooning myself in good music, I just might get through this gross day yet.

“Deception” by Blackalicious: There’s just something about that recurring “La-di-da-da-da-di-da…” that makes me so happy. The delivery is laid-back, the harmony is a bit sloppy, and it just works so well. And I’m always a fan of piano in hip-hop.

“New Soul” by Yael Naim: Yes, the song from the MacBook Air commercial. I’m sorry for being dreadfully cliche, but this is a really really lovely song. After you hear it, that melody just won’t let you go. Which would be a problem if it weren’t such a delightful one.

“Going On” by Gnarls Barkley: This might be the best cut off their new album. Doesn’t really have the same cache as “Crazy”, but the chorus of this song just kills me. When the song hits that dark ending part at around the 2-minute mark, it’s almost like the record has cracked open and you’re peering into the vastness of their warped minds. That happens much more, and with much bigger affect, on other parts of the album, but I just can’t get enough of this one.

“thickfreakness”, by the Black Keys: This is an old standby. If the song were nothing but 3 minutes of that opening hook, I think I might even be satisfied with it. Dan Auerbach’s vocals seem to me to come out of another time. Can’t understand a damn word he’s saying most of the time, but that didn’t stop Eddie Vedder from being a great frontman, and the same applies here.

“Pulling Mussels (From A Shell)” by Squeeze: Ok, this is the 80’s dork in me talking. I can’t even begin to describe how much I dig this song. It’s so bright and shiny. (Listen to those guitars chirp!) I can’t tell whether to consider it dated or vintage, but the fact that it is so firmly stuck in the past does not bother me at all. Sure the guitar and piano solos leave a tiny bit to be desired, but it’s the FEEL of this song that makes it great. And that anticipatory guitar strum right before the verses gets me every time.

“Sunrise” by Yeasayer: This band uses some pretty crazy sounds. The drums make it sound kind of tribal. And the vocals are difficult to pin down. On one hand, his voice is really raw, but with the effects they use, you wouldn’t be surprised to hear it on a dance track. Which I guess this kind of is. A really cool one. And when the chorus hits with “I wanna get in the sunrise”, I can’t help but think, “yea. i wanna too!”

“We Can Work It Out” by Stevie Wonder: Covering a song is tricky business. Even trickier is covering a Beatles song. But if anyone can take a great song and make it their own, it’s Stevie. Sure, the “hey”s in the verses are a little on the cheesy side, but that part of the song (the Paul part) was a little cheesy to begin with. And Stevie kills it when he hits the John part (“Life is very short…”). And a well-placed tambourine can do a lot.

“Elevator Music” by Beck: I don’t listen to enough Beck. The atmosphere he creates with his music is incredible. Understated grooves all around. And he does skinny-white-boy pseudo-rap better than anyone. If I were ever to make a movie, I think it would be the kind of movie that would have a lot of Beck in the soundtrack.

“Bell Bottom Blues” by Derek and the Dominos: I don’t have one, but if i had a list of my top 10 tracks of all time, I think this might be on it. No matter how many times I listen to it, it never ever gets old. That graffiti artist may have been right. Clapton might be god. A tortured god, but a god nonetheless.

The YES network’s rain delay music is hiLARious and incredibly fitting. check it out.

So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,
blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have you found? The same old fears.
Wish you were here.

Do you ever wish you could turn back the clock? Ever wish you could have done things differently? Or said one more thing, or made one decision differently? Years go by, and you find these wishes and regrets have seemingly disappeared. Until they smack you in the face again. And you realize that while you thought you had pushed it all away, it was held tightly to you all along. You’ve changed, you’ve grown, but some things don’t change so easily. So what do you do? Nothing? There’s nothing to do, I suppose. Until slowly time allows you to make sense of things, and you can let go of the regret. But the wish? The wish is a bit harder I think. (Pink Floyd…they know.)

17 years is a long time to carry something like that. Especially for an almost-23 year old. But I think I’m growing up, finding no use for regret, understanding things as they are, as they were, and not as I have perceived them.

Still, JLV, wish you were here.

I, like many of my fellow worker bees, am pretty much constantly listening to music. Whether it’s on my iPod or pandora.com, I am essentially ALWAYS plugged in. On the subway, at work, at lunch, and even when I get home. I suppose I’m something of a music junkie. And I’m certainly not alone. It’s amazing the number of people riding the subway every morning and evening that I see with headphones in. Sometimes, when I’m not actually plugged in, I can hear someone’s music blaring. Sometimes, I hear multiple people’s music blaring, creating either a nice blending of sound or unpleasant cacophony of noise. (Yup, I said cacophony.) And so I wonder: can people hear MY music ever? I guess I listen pretty loud sometimes, so I suppose it’s possible.

And at work, not only do I wonder whether or not co-workers can hear my music through my headphones, but I also have this habit that I wonder if anyone has picked up on yet. See, I make a lot of Excel spreadsheets in my job. Most of them involve typing numbers and formulas into cells, creating nice little (or biiiig) financial spreadsheets. Music is just about the only thing that gets me through the boredom and monotony of these tasks. And when just listening isn’t enough, well, sometimes I type to the rhythm of the music. Not just straight beats. I’m talking different drum beats, bass lines, guitar riffs. I find it hard and counterproductive to do this when I’m typing words, but it is actually pretty entertaining when typing numbers. On top of that, I’m a pretty loud typer. Must be all those years of piano lessons. Strong fingers. Or something. Anyway, so yea, I do wonder sometimes if anyone at work notices that I do this. And if so, what do they think of it? Do they find it annoying? Funny? Weird? Not that I really care, but it IS something that I wonder.

It is with these two preponderances as a backdrop that I introduce a new series to the blog I will call: Overheard on my Headphones. The title is an homage to the highly entertaining website/blog: overheardinnewyork.com . If you’ve never been, I very much recommend it. In the same vein as Overheard in New York, Overheard on my Headphones will highlight those clashes between public and private. Musical moments I wish I could share with strangers, other moments that I pray no one can hear (yea, I listen to embarassing music sometimes. Just like the rest of you), and other such choice moments I might be inclined to share with the, like, 2 people that read this blog. (self-deprication is still cool, right?)

So, aaaaaanyway…..

“Stir it Up” by Bob Marley and the Wailers came on my iPod shuffle towards the end of my work day, which was really lovely, cause I was getting pretty pretty antsy around 4:45. There’s nothing like a good Marley jam to put you in a good mood, that’s for sure. But there was one problem. It really REALLY made me want to dance around. That reggae beat is kind of irresistible to me, and I found myself bouncing in my seat. For sure, if any of my co-workers took a glance at me, they’d be jealous. “It’s a Tuesday! at 4:45! And she’s DANCING!”

What can I say, I’ve got a joie de vivre. At least when Marley’s playing. Then again, who doesn’t?

So, in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve put up a new image header. It’s a picture of the coast of Santorini, in the Greek isles. I went there with my mom a few summers ago, and it was one of the most exquisite places I’ve ever been in my life, maybe even beating the Cinque Terre. I can only imagine what the quality of life is like in a place like that. Sure, most of their business is a result of tourism, but that’s not such a bad way to live. Peak season must be a total pain in the ass, but I would think that the local population feel a sense of pride with the massive influx of visitors each season. “Yes,” they think, “this place is truly amazing.”

Whenever I travel to a place like this, I always imagine myself living there. What would it be like? Would I feel disconnected? Or would I be able to form a comfortable, contented, beautiful life in a place like this? I like to think that I could. Because I like to think that at some point, when I’ve had enough of the New York life for a while, I could just pick up and move somewhere like that for a while. Not completely leave my life behind, but just try something new for a while. Learn to live in a different way than the New York bubble I’ve become so accustomed to. There is, after all, much more out there.

Then again this is just a dream. Chances are 5 years from now I’ll be doing pretty much the same thing I’ve been doing the past year. Part of me kind of hopes so. But then I look at that picture you see above. (Sigh.)

Yankee game number two yesterday! And oh wow, what. a. game. The LAST FIRST YANKS-RED SOX HOME GAME OF THE SEASON IN YANKEE STADIUM EVER was something of a slugfest classic, and the fans were fantastic. Fantastically entertaining. There is NO END to the shit Boston fans get in Yankee Stadium. It’s just hilarious. Most hilarious were the events that transpired right in my own section. I could go through, detail by detail, just how the events of one obnoxious Masshole Bostonian Red Sox fan three rows in front of where I was sitting got taken away by the cops. (I have never, NEVER seen a group of cops move that fast in real life.) But I have neither the patience nor the descriptive prowess to really give the whole incident the life and hilarity it deserves and warrants. So I will take a cue from my previous post.

Last night’s most entertaining moments, and the things I learned from them:

Cops on duty in the Stadium are definitely Yankee fans.

Peanuts are great for pelting at your enemy without getting into trouble.

Alcohol, while a great social lubricant, is also a great escalator of confrontation.

When in enemy territory, be on your best behavior, or you just might get jumped.

People from Boston really have the most annoying accents ever.

No matter how calm you think you are, everyone has a breaking point when they’re being pelted with things.

Policing in Yankee Stadium may be a tad unfair in the grand scheme of things. But damn is it funny.

This is really the only way I can think of to do this properly. That and I think that concision is a virtue. That and I’m gonna show you all that YOU TOO can give inspiration. YOU TOO can be pseudo-wise. YOU TOO can survive very awkward familial dynamics. So here goes, a series of inspirational quotes/fortune cookie messages.

Even the most uncomfortable of situations can be broken up with a good story.

Old people are legitimately funny too.

No matter how far away some people are, and for however long, family, however you define that, will always stick with you.

Nothin like a smoke to bring good people together. (DTYM, for sure.)

Politics is best left discussed by the younger generations. The older you get, it seems, the harder it is to rationally discuss differing opinions.

Love does not die with death. In fact, in some cases, it grows stronger.

It takes a little bit of growing up to begin to fully appreciate the people who love you.

New York really is the Big Bad City to a lot of people.

Facebook is not always evil and stupid.

The celebration of the right occassion (and the right person) has an incalculable ability to bring people together.

There are a ton more, I’m sure, but I’m hungry, and I can’t really think when I’m hungry. That and the sentiment here is (appropriately) gooey(ew?) enough that I can’t bring myself to stew in it too long. But I do mean it.

It occurs to me that I haven’t really talked politics in a while. Partly because I haven’t really felt compelled to. You might have thought I’d take a crack at the whole Rev. Wright fiasco, but I figured that pretty much everyone else and their unborn children had already mouthed off on that enough. One more voice is just redundant.

But I couldn’t help but throw back on my pseudo-political thinking cap when Jesse directed me towards this article from The New Republic: http://www.tnr.com/environmentenergy/story.html?id=6b3d9c26-7c9e-4814-badd-a124edc68718&p=1

Its title is: No Really, You Should Go. Which pretty much sums up what’s going on in the Democratic campaign right now. Pretty much the entire respected (and disrespected) American press is salivating over the stunning collapse of Hillary Clinton. Now, I am highly aware of all of the sensationalism and hyperbole that goes into so much political writing these days. But everyone has to have their angle, I suppose, and it seems that just about everyone’s angle (except for that one Maureen Dowd piece), is calling for Hillary’s head. Or concession, rather.

Either way it seems that all of us not for Hillary (which is to say, all of us against Hillary) are getting some kind of sick pleasure out of her demise. Mark Penn resigns. Teehee. Superdelegates switching sides. Mua ha ha.

You could point to a lot of different reasons for this venom, but I think it’s pretty simple. It’s the joy of the symbolic destruction of old-school feminism. Yes, the feminist movement of the 60’s and 70’s did wonders for women in America. I am a product of that progress. And I do believe that, yes, in fact, women are equal to men. But one of the huge problems I have with traditional feminism is that there is a denial of and almost repulsion to a woman’s natural power. Her sexual side. Her maternal side. The sexual side clearly has no place in politics, but I think it’s the utilization of the maternal aspect, both nurturing and authoritative, that makes a woman a good authority figure. And Hillary just doesn’t have that.

Or maybe she does. Maybe she’s just a cold hard bitch. With a terrible sense of humor. Old-school feminists really need to take a step back. “I just think it would be great to have a woman president,” you might hear a middle-aged white woman say. I agree with you, lady. But HER?? REALLY?!

I do kind of feel bad for her. She’s really trying SO HARD. It’s hard out here for a chick. Especially a chick with no social grace who PISSES EVERYONE OFF.

I’m reminded of a delightful song by Nellie McKay called “Mother of Pearl”, which speaks to some of what I’ve just talked about. Here are the lyrics. The music makes them even better.

Feminists don’t have a sense of humor
Feminists just want to be alone (boo-hoo)
Feminists spread vicious lies and rumor
They have a tumor on their funny bone

They say child molestation isn’t funny
Rape and degradation’s just a crime (lighten up, ladies)
Rampant prostitution, sex for money (what’s wrong with that)
Can’t these chicks do anything but whine

Dance break
Woo-hoo
(Take it off)

They say cheap objectification isn’t witty, it’s hot
Equal work and wages worth the fight (sing us a new one)
On demand abortion, every city (okay, but no gun control)
Won’t these women ever get a life

Feminists don’t have a sense of humor (poor Hilary)
Feminists and vegetarians
Feminists spread vicious lies and rumor
They’re far too sensitive to ever be a ham
That’s why these feminists just need to find a man

I’m Dennis Kucinich, and I approve this message

Take a note from Nellie, Hillary. Bill’s clearly not cutting it. Get a man on the side. Preferably someone a bit younger. Keep it hush-hush. You’ll be happier.

(I kid, you know. I kind of like feminism. Kind of.)

Oh wow the Final Four was exciting. You might not have known this seeing me watching the games, as I drifted off to sleep with 8 minutes left in the UNC-Kansas game (idiot.) What was more exciting than the games themselves, was the projection of the Championship Game. Memphis-Kansas. Whew. And I CALLED IT. HA. (Not entering in a pool was probably one of the stupidest things I’ve done in a long time.) This game is going to be DIRTY. My pick? (Don’t hate me, Court…) Memphis. Yes, Kansas is a sick basketball team, and yes, they will likely win. I would not be upset about that. But I’ve got a feeling about this Memphis team, reinforced by two articles I read this morning; one about Derrick Rose and his “stomach ailment”, and one about Joey Dorsey and keeping his big mouth shut.

Forgive me for not being a real numbers person when it comes to athletic competition, but human interest stories like these really get me. If you’re not naturally a fan, it’s stories like this that MAKE you a fan. Or at least me. Maybe it’s a girl thing. Regardless, reading that Derrick Rose eats a sick amount of gummy bears and Joey Dorsey comes from Baltimore and is the first in his family to get a high school diploma, makes me pull for Memphis that much more.

Rose’s sugar tooth: http://sports.espn.go.com/ncb/ncaatourney08/news/story?id=3332589

Dorsey shuts his mouth, gets railed on, and grabs those boards: http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/columns/story?columnist=wojciechowski_gene&id=3332873&sportCat=ncb

That and there was this one hook shot amid three defenders that Douglas-Roberts made in the UCLA game that was just absurd. Athletic, graceful, sexy, dirty, etc, etc… Douglas-Roberts vs. Brandon Rush?! Oh my.

Tigers. Grrrrrrr.

So last night I went to my first Yankee game of the season. Yes, the LAST SECOND GAME AT YANKEE STADIUM. EVER. And somewhere between the LAST FIRST A-ROD HOME RUN OF THE SEASON IN YANKEE STADIUM EVER and the LAST LAST PITCH OF A SECOND GAME OF THE SEASON IN YANKEE STADIUM EVER, my scarf and blazer and $9 beers really stopped cutting it. I had to leave. The game was (kind of) awesome. Yankee Stadium is always great, and A-Rod home runs are sexy as hell. But we were losing, and it was October cold, and I’ve got lots of games to look forward to this season. So I left. (Sue me.)

Always a subway girl, I was planning on taking the 4, switching for the 6, and making the 10-15 minute trek back to my apartment. Until Marshall suggested quite casually as we pulled away from Yankee Stadium, “you should take the bus”. Now, the casuality (really?) with which he made this suggestion was quite well juxtaposed with my reaction. “The bus?! I never take the bus.”

Now let me be clear, I am not a bus snob. I don’t look down on people who take the bus. Yes, I like the subway, and maybe on the hierarchy of public transporation, I put the bus lower than the subway (and probably lower than those bicycle carts too.) I just really know NOTHING about it, and have never had much of a necessity to learn anything about it. Blissfully ignorant, I suppose. But as the thought of that miserable windy walk after 3 hours in the cold kept popping up in my head, I realized just how good a recommendation that bus idea might be.

So instructions were given (thanks, man!) and I was on my way. And well, while the details of my bus trip of all…oh i don’t know…15 blocks, weren’t terribly exhilarating, the point is that I TOOK THE BUS! BY MYSELF! LIKE A BIG GIRL! HOORAY FOR ME!

LAST FIRST ALONE NEW YORK BUS RIDE EVER.