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I'm everyone – hang your label on me


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On the day you were born

I remember wanting you here before you got here, my sister, my other half. I knew Mom was having a girl, I just knew it even though I was only eight. They were sure you were a boy and even had a name picked out for you and everything, but I knew, you were my sister.

Sometimes Mom would fall asleep and I would read to you while you were kicking it in the MomCondo. You probably don’t remember that, you were all fetal and shit at that moment but I knew you were coming out of there.

When Mom went into labor with you she and I were grocery shopping, her water broke at  Food For Less (classy, this family) and Mom, being Mom even asked me if  I could drive home. Well no, I couldn’t, I was 9 but we got home and Mom was Mom up until the minute you came into the world.

My grandma woke me up to talk to y(our) dad on the phone that night and they told me I had a little sister (duh, I knew that) and later on I helped Mom name you.

I helped Mom with your baby book because she hates her handwriting. You were “mine” from the minute you showed up, even when you threw yourself off the porch or cried like a lunatic constantly. I was there when you said something for the first time, when you stopped pooping in your own drawers, all that. It was me and you.

Because you were a mean little shit when you were a kid you and your friends used to wake up hella early on sleep over party weekend nights and climb all over me in bed and beg me to unleash the Pepsi or cookies or whatever it was that Mom said you couldn’t have and just to get you little shits to stop bothering me, I’d do it. But I also used to stage some pretty dope games of “pretend” for you and your friends and Barbies and whatever unwilling participant was around. We made a movie once with your best friend and you guys were the best (worst) actors in the world but it was super fun.

You went to college in the town I lived in. You met your now husband there and I remember the phone call, when you were still new and nervous at life, about if you should go on a date with this guy and I listened to you tell me all the nice and wonderful things he did for you and told you a million times, yes, go out with the boy, if he sucks, don’t go out with him again and I’ll have him killed.

You went out with that boy.

You married that man. You got an amazing second (or in our case third family) I cried through the whole thing because you feel more like my daughter than my sister. And it’s always felt like I’ve known your husband and his family my whole life. Like when I met the lot of them on your graduation day I felt like they were my family too.

And so today, my darling, my bowling ball head, the absolute true love of my life who isn’t a cat, is your last day in the town your fell in love with your husband in and ironically the apartment complex you used to live in. And you, my darling, my fearless, elegant, seriously insanely smart and perfect baby sister, my baby… you’re off to another state and I am sad, because I will miss you. I hate that you’ll be too far to see whenever I want. I hated that when I left this area the first time. But I know you’re in good hands (your own, although you husband does make me feel like at least there is another set of eyes on you, because if anything happens to you, someone’s getting seriously injured) and you’re moving to a wonderful place and I am no more than a text message/phone call/facebook post away and if anyone looks at you funny, you know I’ll be there in like less than 10 minutes, space, time, physics be damned. Ain’t no one gonna hurt my baby.

I love you and I am proud of you and I am proud of your husband, excuse me, my brother. I love you both and wish you the best in the Emerald City.

 

little sister

tiff1


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four

Dear Christopher-

So this morning a link and story about the Afghan Whigs rolled by on my facebook feed and you of course came to my mind. And I looked at the calendar and said “oh #@$k this month again.”  So here we are.

Four years ago you decided to leave us. You decided to go away. You decided that this life is too hard or confusing or whatever and decided to leave us all here, wondering, wishing, missing you.

So! Anyway, this morning I’m scrolling through vile Facebook and what do I see but the Afghan Whigs have gotten back together and may tour. Can you believe it? They played the Jimmy Fallon show recently and I can’t remember if Jimmy Fallon was on the air when you were here but you probably would remember him from SNL or whatever. (Surprise! Someone from SNL has a talk show,  I think my brain just melted thinking about that to be honest.) But back to the Whigs…

You’ll miss seeing them.  I’ll try my hardest to go see them for you, even though for once it was me introducing you to something when you found the Whigs, I’m sure you’d never tell anyone that though. My lovely teacher of cool,  the guy who never gave up on me, who dyed my hair sometimes after we’d broken up because I couldn’t reach the back. The guy who I could still call for pie or for seriously anything, I always could.

I’d be calling you to go meet up in San Francisco or maybe,  just maybe we’d meet  in Vegas to see the Afghan Whigs. One band I’ve never been able to see. Greg Dulli being my future ex-husband and all, there’s that restraining order. In my version of this trip it would be Vegas and the club would be a dive. You and I and our dates, we’d order ridiculous drinks, like Singapore Sling drinks at some dive bar that may or may not have been on Bourdain’s show. We’d act as though we were in a speak easy and we’d talk about Elephant Thespian (not a real band) and Cornbread the cat and I’d remember the weird piece of writing that you did about me once talking about a time I walked to your house in high school and I’d probably pretend to be mad for a minute, but I really wouldn’t be mad.

After all this nonsense we would go to see the Afghan Whigs and Greg Dulli and I would fall in love with Greg again for the 900th time and we’d smile a bunch and when it was done go to the silliest place that was open for all you could eat crab legs or pancakes or whatever we deemed most VEGAS about the experience and maybe we’d talk about the bands you were in or the stupid shit we both picked out for me to wear when we’d go shopping. Or maybe we’d talk about our jobs or our families or whatever. You would make sure we stayed out until the sun came up and then we with our respective dates would wander back to whatever shitty (on purpose) hotel we had decided to stay at and bid each other aideu until our next time together.

This is what I, at 32 years old with the knowledge that you are always and forever going to never even get to be 30 with  me, wish was in the future.

But it’s not. You’re gone.  You’re a ghost in photos I find, in things in my treasure chest, you’re a ghost on the wall in my apartment and I wish like hell that wasn’t the truth.

I try, to live my life in a sort of homage to you. You taught me a lot about music (all of  it is good, you just gotta try it) food (all of it’s good you just have to try it, seriously just eat this) and working hard, as you always did. Also always being kind to people in need and even some times people who didn’t deserve it, that for me was you.

When we first started to date you had a concussion.  I sometimes think that’s the only reason you dated me, but I know that’s not true. But there you were, this force of life that I knew and played attack basketball with on a regular basis and you were there in a hospital because you’d been hit so hard with a baseball that you had a concussion. I couldn’t visit you but you remember that Alicia and Tina did. And Alicia told you I liked you.  After that the rest was history.

Punk in drublic. Chaos Coffee. Java Jazz. The Masons building fire escape. Mars/Bam Bams. Wrapping presents for your mom’s work fund raiser or something in the mall (!) (See there now I’ve told a secret about us).  Journalism (seriously fuck that class), Toys R Us, 7-11. Lyons coffee, going to shows at Jerry’s. Watching you play. Running into you at Padre and the Mint and all the gay bars because that’s just where we liked to go. Watching you write so many wonderful things in the paper.  Being jealous of your writing, having to REDO an entire edition of the Saga because you left your editorial smarts at home that day…. I didn’t mind.

I’ll never in a million years know why you did what you did. I wouldn’t understand even if you came back and told me, because you were a star. If people didn’t love you, they hated you and that’s just a sign of jealousy. You were the party, all we had to do was come to you.

I miss you every single day. I know today isn’t the THE DAY but eff it, I’ve never been good at rules and neither were you.  I’ll light my Yahrzeit candle for you on Saturday and listen to some songs that are your songs. But if I waited until Saturday to write this it’d be way sappier.

Just know that even though I don’t understand what happened, I accept it. It happened. You chose to end your journey. I will never forget you but maybe some day I’ll forgive you. All I know is I will always miss you. I love you my friend and someday we’re doing the Vegas thing in Heaven and you can explain EVERYTHING.

All my love, always-

Stephanie

a very very long time ago

 

goofiest prom photos ever


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visuals

I think I am getting a cold and therefore not feeling the best at the moment. So today we’re going to look at pretty things together and I’m listening to one of my favorite DJ’s on my iPod while I get ready this morning.

I love tea cups

I feel like if I had a tea pot and tea cups I would make tea all of the time. I mean I do anyway but I would really get a kick out of it. Like I want one for my desk at work.

 

In my next life

In my next life I’m going to live in a Skyy Vodka advertisement. Not just because there seems like there would be unlimited vodka there, but because the Skyy ads are all stylized and gorgeous. Everything is elegant and clean and oh so chic…

 

See?
ahhh yes, my favorite

Everyone knows I love sushi and would eat it morning noon and night if I could but LOOK AT IT. Such beautiful colors and great presentation. Sushi is as much of a visual experience for me as a food. If the sushi isn’t plated correctly or isn’t popping with color, it’s just not as pleasurable for me to eat. Same thing if the place I get it isn’t decorated just so… I used to get some tasty raw fish at a place called Sushi Kokku in SLO but it always lacked the decor and of course the plating, it was a fast food joint. The experience is just as big of a part of the meal as the food.

 

map to happiness

In a world of Harajuku

Gwen Stefani (not pictured) and I may be separated at birth… nevermind she’s a gorgeous millionaire and I’m a lowly radio dj with a sore throat this AM. Gwen’s tastes and mine have always ran side by side. The Harajuku Lovers collections have blown my mind time and again because of the cute overload but also how well made some of the bags are. I’m a Betsy Johnson girl first and foremost but let’s be real the Betsyville bags do tend to break or rip if you use them as your every day purse. My Harajuku Lovers stuff has been through hell and back with nary a scratch. At most I need to throw my white one in the washer. I almost feel like Gwen remembers what being broke was like… almost.

 

Hey Baby, Hey Baby Hey

I'd sport it

 

I love tights!!

I think I’m late to the tights party. My former roommate Jen Wa the Destroyer was always my fashion consultant but since we don’t live together, I’ve had to dress myself and my go to look lately has been a shirt dress (think long sweater that could be belted or an actual baby doll dress) and some kind of wild ass tights with my big boots from Christmas. It’s an easy way to feel a little dressed up when I get out of bed at 5am and have to go to work without doing a ton of work. Plus no one else in Chico has been rocking this look (I saw a couple of gals in SLO doing it when I was down for the weekend) so it’s sort of my signature.

 

Bling bling

Via Lunaricsales

via Sugarjunkie

Costume jewelry is my favorite thing in the world. I’m not even sure anyone says “costume jewelry” anymore and I may be channeling my grandma there but whatever. Resin Jewelry has been getting more and more popular and let me tell you if you want something original Etsy is the place to get it for pretty cheap. My two favorite designers out there are India out in Ohio and Jamie in Indiana. Quality, beautiful stuff. Check them out the next time you want a treat…

Lunaricsales

Sugarjunkie

 

So cute!

I fell in love with Dev after hearing “Bass Down Low” but she’s done a ton of stuff with the IT boys of the moment, the Cataracts. Also she’s from Modesto which isn’t that far from where I live currently, so maybe I can stalk her and we can be bff’s and go shopping together. Or get kicked out of night clubs together. Whatever.

I wish I wasn't too old to rock this hair.

Dev's twitter account is @devishot

 

Haters to the left

It may be Rihanna backlash time but I don’t care. I love dis bitch right now. She’s all over everything sure, but damn if she isn’t cute. And coming back from some nasty tabloid stuff. Maybe it’s that Barbados accent or the fact that she rocked my favorite haircut better than I ever could or the song she did with Eminem that blew my mind, but I want to invite her to my tea party.

 

Rihanna wearing my hair

Come on, look at that expression, you know she's a blast to hang out with

so pretty!

 

lucky cat!

 

I understand  alot of people think Serato is the devil. But damn if their control records aren’t gorgeous.  I did get so fascinated by Serato and the whole DJ culture when I was at Wild that I ended up downloading Mixxr to see if I’m any good.

My aren’t you curious if I can laptop DJ like Lindsay Lohan?

Dream Date

Ciao Baby

Ohhh la la la

No secret I love Vespa scooters. I live somewhere that at least in the summer it makes sense to have one. They’re just so gorgeous and it turns out, I can drive one. Go figure. I love the vintage ads though….

Twiggy

the 60s in London looked fun

She's not in the B-52's

Mod Fashion makes me crazy. Because I could rock it. It’s just so sexy and fun. All that eyeliner and huge hair and pleather boots? Forget it. I’m sold, sign me up.

Dream living room

Make up

So many colors

Yes!

I love make up. I rarely wear it anymore because I work so early in the morning and it takes a lot to get me looking fly, but I love that it exists. I love the big colors and huge eyelashes and the ladies (and boys) that bother with it. So great.

Hopefully my list of visuals helped motivate you as well. As for me its vegan chikn soup time and off to work….


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Valentines Day

hearts
Man I am so not a Valentines Day girl*. Even when I’m not single I just don’t get it. I mean I’m not the girl who is gonna throw a fit because she didn’t get something (as evidenced by MANY of my relationships. I think I worked all day last year.) One year I did get sent flowers at work and it was pretty awesome and amazing because it had never happened before and all the girls at work were jealous. I honestly didn’t believe the delivery guy and thought they were for one of the other three Stephanies I was working with at the time… ha ha.

That being said, I LOVE music.  Yes even seriously SAPPY LOVE SONGS. So I’ll share a few of my favorites in the next few days leading up to Valentines Day.

Did you know MTV banned the  Depeche Mode “In Your Room,” video when it first came out? Something about nudity and bondage and blah blah blah. This is possibly the only video from this album where Dave Gahan doesn’t look like the drug baby he was at the time. It’s fantastic (and hysterically tame considering the whole “BANNED” thing) and this is a great if unconventional love song.

It’s sexy. It’s moody. It’s dark. People in fishnets need love songs too. And the lyrics are delightfully obsessive.

“In Your Room”

In your room
Where time stands still
Or moves at your will
Will you let the morning come soon
Or will you leave me lying here
In your favourite darkness
Your favourite half-light
Your favourite consciousness
Your favourite slave

In your room
Where souls disappear
Only you exist here
Will you lead me to your armchair
Or leave me lying here
Your favourite innocence
Your favourite prize
Your favourite smile
Your favourite slave

I’m hanging on your words
Living on your breath
Feeling with your skin
Will I always be here

In your room
Your burning eyes
Cause flames to arise
Will you let the fire die down soon
Or will I always be here
Your favourite passion
Your favourite game
Your favourite mirror
Your favourite slave

I’m hanging on your words
Living on your breath
Feeling with your skin
Will I always be here

(*This doesn’t mean I wouldn’t take a rad bottle of wine or some pretty flowers, I mean its still winter here I haven’t seen flowers in MONTHS.)


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musical youth

One of the most things about working at Wild was the Wild Workout at Noon, which is this mix show from some back in the day stuff. Brought back memories of growing up and listening to KKXX (which I would later work for, trip out on that!) Lately I’ve been kinda homesick and so I’ve been looking up youtube videos that I rediscovered during that era…

Timmy T – “One More Try” this was either big when I was in 6th or 7th grade. I have a bad memory for the dates of the era, but anyway I remember every girl in school LOVED this song. It was just the right sappy thing. I’m sure quite a few gals in slouch socks cried to this tune back in the day. Pretty weird that the real Timmy T is now my facebook friend.

Let’s talk about Stevie B for a minute. My friend, former employer and bad ass mixer LOVES Stevie B. We should’ve been worried about him but whatever, people like what they like and Jo liked Stevie B, so I heard ALOT of it on the mix show driving to work every day.  Super good.

While we’re outing people’s musical tastes, my friend also loves Angelina and after hearing so  much of it again, after what like 10 years of not hearing music like this? I re-fell in love with it. This stuff was so popular in Bakersfield when I was younger, it’s hard not to be nostalgic for it.

I really felt like the KLF was just too advanced for their time. Such a neat sound. Love it!

 


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Sitting here in Bakersfield

Social Distortion has a new record coming out in 2011 and this song is on it.

http://www.youtube.com/v/H7_gC_vt5EI?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6

It makes me giggle for many reasons, one of which being some old friends of mine were on tour with them when they wrote it. The boys I knew had a couple of days off from the tour and did a show with Guttermouth in San Luis Obispo and moved into my house for three days before we all headed out to Bakersfield so they could rejoin the tour and my roommate and I could see Social Distortion and of course support our friends.
I’ve seen Social D about 15 times. I think the Bakersfield show was the 15th, because I haven’t seen them since. I was standing on the side of the stage at Stramler Park that night, it was summer and I was behind the little fence that keeps “the public” out sipping on a Coors light that someone had handed me and listening to this song for the first time, after learning it was only a few weeks old. I could see all the old people I used to know in town, some now married with their babies on their shoulders in the park and it was just a really great night.
I had a lot of nights like that back in 2005… It was probably the second most fun summer of my life after the summer of 1999, which was for the most part spent in Bakersfield.
I’ll be back in Bakersfield next week for three days. Should be a good time. I won’t have a car though, so I’m not sure how it’s gonna work out. I don’t have money to go out anyway so it’s not that big of a deal.


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feminist notebook

I was a tiny bit too young for Riot Grrrl. Okay that’s not true, it was happening while I was happening, turning into my teen years, realizing I could think, realizing that boys didn’t get to have all the fun… yeah Riot Grrrl was HAPPENING. But I was twelve and living in Bakersfield and finding out about all of it from Sassy magazine.

I have no idea how I got a subscription to this magazine as a pre-teen. Probably told my mom it was just like Seventeen or Teen or anything else. She really wanted me to stop reading rock music magazines so I cheated a little. Sue me, like crack on the street I would’ve found the WORD out there somewhere.

My cousin Michelle was a fantastic bad influence, just dropping the names Exene Cervenka and Anais Nin and god knows what else around me. I devoured these little clues that there was something out there for girls like me.
I just read an article on some celeb gossip piece of crap where someone was interviewing one of my first idols (but not my first idol, that’s easily Cyndi Lauper) Kathleen Hanna and she said these Riot Grrrl bands were on the verge of being forgotten. of being lost. Kathleen Hanna donated all her papers, the zines, the everything to NYU to keep this from happening. It just makes me crazy that there are girls younger than my sisters out there walking around without a clue that these women, these ball busting amazing women made it okay for Taylor Momsen to be out there with her boobs out or even that these women were around before Britney or X-Tina or even Gaga (and you know I love me some Gaga)
I had my Riot Grrrl moment in the sun in the early 2000’s before riotgrrl.com disbanded. They chose me to be a columnist and asked me to write about something that made me a better feminist and I wrote about moving in with my dad who recognized that I was a person and needed to be independent and needed to learn to make some money and get myself from here to there and even knew that if I worked overnights I wouldn’t automatically die or get mugged. They approved my article and then the website folded. But for awhile I was bummed. And if I still had it I would repost the story about how my dad made me the bad ass independent (for the most part) take no prisoners woman I am.
When I was 23 I got to see Le Tigre perform. Kathleen Hanna is a genius. I mean come on, she punched out Courtney Love once and married one of the Beastie Boys (the original reformed boy sexist pigs turned feminists). She made me cry. She was so earnest. She believed whatever she was saying in that tiny club.
I guess what I’m saying is that none of this music should be forgotten. I absolutely wouldn’t be who I am without ANY OF IT. I think I even mentioned it on the air the first week I was here when I played L7. I wouldn’t have had a clue that I could be the biggest bad ass on the block in rock and be a girl.
I won’t let any of this music be forgotten. It means everything.