My Week In Music: She Whined, “Where’s the Wine?”

I’ve been drinking a lot of wine lately. This is partly because the world is falling apart (on a micro and macro level), but mostly in anticipation of (read: in preparation for) my guest appearance in my friend Chris’s show, Chris Tries to Review Wine Live!, tomorrow. Because extensive pregaming practice makes perfect!

So, here are some great songs about wine. Well, really just songs that mention wine in a lyric or two, because hey, fun fact, there aren’t too many songs exclusively about wine. For shame, music industry. For shame.

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My Week In Music: Hear Me Roar

Earlier this evening, I was getting off the bus when an older gentleman asked me if I was okay. I made a noncommittal noise and rolled my eyes. He took what was barely an acknowledgement of or response to his question as a green-light to then say, “I could tell by your face how sad you are, but I bet your husband brightens your beautiful face right up.”

Maybe I like my face this way! I certainly don’t need a man–let alone a husband–to brighten it up. Maybe I’m not prettier when I smile! The fact that this man assumed I even had a husband also pisses me off. Just because I am an almost thirty-year-old woman doesn’t mean I need–or perhaps more on point, even want–a husband.

I don’t think this man intended any ill-will, but he did royally piss me off. Because benevolent sexism (which is what this was) is still sexism. So, here are some of my favorite feminist anthems. Stay nasty and persist.

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My Week In Music: Teenage Nightmare

Lately, the world has been conspiring against me in an effort to force me to maybe not relive, but at least confront my shit-show of an adolescence. This conspiracy (yeah, I’m more than comfortable labeling it as such) has manifested through a series of crazy random happenstances in which I find myself interacting with people from high school whom I haven’t seen in years. I suppose this kind of thing is expected if you go to a NYC prep school and never leave New York. But I don’t have many fond memories of my teenage years (read: almost none), so being forced to reconcile who I am now with who I was then has been a less than pleasant trip. Let me contextualize this for you: in my high school yearbook, I was voted “Most Impatient” and “Talks Most, Says Least.” I’m not crying, you’re crying.

My high school yearbook picture. I want to punch this version of me in the face. YOU KNOW NOTHING, 18-YEAR-OLD KATE. NOTHING. STOP SMILING.

Anyway, here are some songs I really dug during my mid to late teens.

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