I never feel like more of a cliché than when I’m sitting outside on my stoop in San Francisco, wearing some flannel I got from the men’s section at TJ Maxx, listening to Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams” on repeat. Call me clichéd – call all of us white girls hoping to discover themselves spiritually-but-not-in-too-crazy-of-a-way clichéd – but, come on, who doesn’t want to be Stevie Nicks?
And I might be slightly less of a cliché in this instance because it’s not actually Stevie I’m listening to sing “Dreams,” it’s LÉON. I know what you’re thinking: “Not another cover of a song that really should not be covered, because who is anyone to think they’ll sing a song better than Stevie f*cking Nicks herself?” but – holy moly – I’m glad I gave this one a chance. I don’t listen to much LÉON (that might change on account of this discovery) but the simplicity of this cover is striking. She doesn’t try to get fancy or folky or ostentatious with it and the pureness of her voice is all that comes through.
So, that’s my evening. I wonder if the commuters walking by think I’m crazy cause I’m singing to myself and shedding a few tears here or there. I wanted to do more writing today about things I’ve been thinking about these past few days as I recover (AKA move between my kitchen table, couch, and wheelchair outside while reading or listening to music or getting trapped in my own head) but I’m a little too tired and emotional for that now. I also just checked my mailbox and looks like some of my hospital bills are rolling in, so chances are I’ll spend the rest of the evening trying to navigate online insurance portals which, by the way, are the only websites I’ve found that are more difficult to navigate than college websites (I could never even figure out how to access my class readings on the five different websites we used at Stanford, but it turned out to be a blessing because I also never knew my grades).
My grandest adventure today was cooking a creative dinner in which I tried to use leftover ingredients from my fridge. I leveraged the rest of the shredded mozzarella and marinara sauce I’d used for pizzas earlier this week, as well as the remains of a loaf of french bread, and some eggplant and almond milk, to make a grilled eggplant panini. My stroke of genius came when I thought to combine the marinara sauce with the almond milk to make a cream sauce for the panini. And there’s nothing like the taste of resourcefulness to really bring a panini home.