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.

Continue reading

Kate Curates the Internet: May 7, 2017

Things That Are Ridiculous

On the nineteenth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts (which, by the way, is a fictional event that never actually happened…right?), J.K. Rowling tweeted that she was sorry for killing Severus Snape, whom Alan Rickman (still upset about his death last January, which actually did happen because he was a real person) portrayed in the films. Rowling’s prolific tweeting, not only about which of her characters she’s sorry she killed, but also about reality at large (i.e., things not related to Harry Potter), apparently prompted fellow British author Joanna Trollope to compare Rowling to Kim Kardashian, which is quite a big stretch if you ask me. According to Trollope, authors who tweet as much as Rowling does are “a threat to literature.” Alright, alright, calm the fuck down, Joanna Trollope. If anything, Rowling is an addict whose substance of choice is the fictional world she created. I remember Rowling going on record saying she was “done” after the publication of Deathly Hallows, but it’s about ten years later and we now have Pottermore, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, and last summer’s Cursed Child (which has been scheduled for a portkey across the Atlantic Ocean to Broadway next April). Rowling’s inability to walk away from the Wizarding World of Harry Potter is a bit quirky and, in my opinion, slightly disturbing (like most addictions are), but it’s certainly not a threat to Literature at large, which, by the way, is possibly the most pretentious thing to actively worry about.

Continue reading

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.

Continue reading

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.

Continue reading