I'm not dead!

Y'all. Seriously. Is there anybody out there? Did I hear an echo? Does anybody even read blogs written by incredibly slack bloggers?

This past week has been a blur of crazy-busy.

Some highlights:
On Saturday morning I met one of my Meet Up groups at Wild Bill's Bikes and Beignets, which was an odd little place. Incredible doughnuts Louisiana-style topped with tons of powdered sugar and served up with Community Coffee. And custom built Harleys that you can order there in the coffee shop. The combination was a little weird, but check it out. He's, like, famous. I will be back because the beignets are to die for, and who doesn't like a local coffee shop? And Wild Bill is totally nice and seems like a really cool guy.

On Sunday I ate at a vegetarian Indian buffet and it was fantastic. I don't know what the heck I ate but I loved every bite. Rice? Lentils? Veggies I can't even recognize? Bread pudding dessert type things? Mmmmmmmmm.

Last night a friend of mine watched one of the Melody Gardot videos I wrote about and decided that I like her because she and I are similar in that we have a "geeky, snotty, vampy attractiveness." I don't think he could have hit the nail on the head more with geeky and snotty, but I have not fulfilled my vamp potential. Granted, this person has never met me although we've been talking for 7 years, and he's going by pictures. But that is another story for another day. (That did sound really sort of slutty or something though didn't it?)

Did anybody watch the Oscars? I watch every year. I don't think I saw a single movie that was nominated for anything this year. But that's not the POINT. The POINT is the dresses and the "Oh my GOSH Jennifer Anniston must be standing and presenting right in front of the sanctimonius Brangelina! AWKWARD!" And predicting whether or not Mickey Rourke would be wearing something completely cracked out or just moderately cracked out. Heather (my hetero-lifemate Heather, not me in the 3rd person Heather, because that would be weird) and I pretty much voted on moderately cracked out because it all could have been so much worse. And let's talk for a minute about Ben Stiller's fantastic impression of Jaoquin Phoenix. HA! And how pretty Anne Hathaway is. And Tim Gunn doing red carpet commentary. (I kept waiting for him to say "That's a whole lot of look," but Tim Gunn is too classy to pull something that obvious at the Oscars.) And the beautiful color of Kate Winslet's dress. But most of all let's talk about how ODD it was when the former winners of an actor/actress category came up on stage to talk about the nominees in their given category. Wasn't it just a few years ago where they were practically flinging the Oscar to the winner from the center of the theater to save time? And now we're waxing poetic? REALLY? Wanna bet all of those best actresses were praying they didn't draw the short straw and have to say something mildly condescending about Meryl Streep's body of work?

And now, becaue I don't know how long it will be before I post again, here is some random entertainment:

Melody Gardot

I know, I know, an unwarranted two posts in one day. What the heck has gotten into me? WELL let me tell you. I was watching something on YouTube, I don't even remember what now, and one of the recommended videos afterwards BLEW ME AWAY. Holy shit this woman is drop dead sexy and sings like something straight out of Mad Men. (Which to me also means drop dead sexy. Have I mentioned that I'd just like to BE Joan? I really feel like I've addressed this before and I can't find it anywhere.... Is this a topic for another time? Probably.) I immediately downloaded the album and I'll probably play it for the next month.

YouTube won't let me embed the videos, but check out this and this. I'll wait. It's cool.

WOW! Was I right or what? She's amazing.

In an interview she describes her record as being like a midnight snack. When you wake up in the middle of the night and you don't know what to do, you put on the record and chill out. She's exactly right.

PS She started singing to get over serious injuries following a really bad accident. She has to wear dark glasses because she can't take bright lights and, well, just go read the article about her and be hellaciously impressed. I know I am.

PPS If you already know all about her and listen to her album all the time and wonder if I've been living under a rock, well, I'm mad at you and we can't be friends anymore because you should have TOLD me about this!

Frontier House

I've been watching the PBS series Frontier House (I got it from Netflix). And after seeing a couple of hours of it, I'm completely convinced that if anyone from 21st century America actually had to experience any part of the Western Expansion in, say, 1883, they'd be dead.

The three families on the show who have agreed to live as though they're in 1883 got about 2 weeks of training in all sorts of things from house building to animal wrangling to gardening and cooking and sanitation and the list goes on and on. So they're admittedly at a disadvantage from the start just because they haven't grown up cooking over an open fire or building log cabins.

Priorities were completely centered around food back then, and I don't think people in modern America have any concept of that. The people on the show are all worried about building houses and that's great, but they sort of forgot to start a garden until the shelter was done, hence the food shortage. People are also whining about walking 150 ft to get water every morning and walking a mile to milk the cows.

It is clear why there were such huge families, and not just because people were religious. They needed the HELP. Birth control was illegal, even spreading information about birth control was punishable by a $5000 fine. Doing a quick google search about the worth of the dollar over time, that fine is over $90,000 by today's standards, so the government was pretty serious about expanding that population back then. About the only form of birth control available was a pig's intestine tied in a knot to use as a condom. How sexy is that? "Heeeey baby, you're looking mighty fine after slaving over a hot woodstove, and I know I'm feeling pretty good after dragging logs around all day, even if I am 2 days away from my weekly bath... let me to find my pig intestine and show you a good time!" Right.

So picture it, you and your family of mother and father in their early 20s and 3 or 4 kids pack up the wagon (which is about 4 feet wide by 10 feet long) and head west until you find a piece of land that is suitable for farming or ranching and you start building a house. All 5 of you. You have to either cut a lot of sod or start felling trees that weigh hundreds of pounds and pile them on top of each other without getting crushed. Meanwhile, the cow has to be milked, a garden started, the family fed and clothed, and any injuries seen to. So good luck! Have fun with that! Once the house is finished the real fun starts with planting crops and hoping they don't just shrivel up and die. And one day you might have neighbors way out there in the middle of freaking nowhere. You had better pray that no one gets sick or badly hurt because they're surely going to die. The average life expectancy was 40.

Anyway, life was a lot of really tough physical labor and I think the show does a good job of demonstrating that. One of the fathers on the show was mad because he wasn't going to get to do any hunting (modern laws still apply...), but I don't think he would have done much hunting even if it was allowed to because there was too much other work to do. He had really romanticized the experience of the wild west in his head and I think he's really disappointed. His family is from California and they aren't doing well, while the family from Tennessee is doing fine. (It seems a little obvious, doesn't it?) The spoiled California girls whine a lot, while the Tennessee mom is getting pissed because they've never been asked for help from their neighbors. And it is all boiling down to economics. The family who is used to living on a budget can ration out their food without a problem, while the family who is used to having everything the minute they want it are struggling and maybe starving.

I am SO GLAD I live in the times I do. Vaccinations, hospitals, cars, and grocery stores are only the tip of the iceberg....

ISAAC!

Sometimes it comes up in the course of regular conversation that I majored in Fashion Design in college. The typical situation is when I'm with a group of people and someone wants random clothing advice and somebody else will pipe up and say, "OH! Ask Heather! She's a fashion designer!" And then I get this slightly puzzled look with a tilt of the head and a "Really?"

I am not surprised. I am in what you might call a serious fashion rut.

My typical look is blue jeans, black shirt, black shoes. Wow. Recently I bought a pair of perfect kick ass brown heels and I haven't worn them because I'm always wearing black and it feels a little weird to wear brown with black and OH MY GOD when did I get all matchy???

I own plenty of clothes in plenty of colors. But I always end up back in black, grey, dark blue, and occasionally purple. It is depressing. It is not a good use of all the other clothes I own. And then tonight I found some inspiration. I was at the bookstore getting the last issue of Domino magazine. (Sob! I can't believe that magazine has bitten the dust. All of my favorite magazines are shutting down- Blue Print was the first and since then it's just been a steady stream of bad news. So farewell Domino. I will miss you. And Ready Made: you had better not shut down or I will be SERIOUSLY upset.)

Anyway, there I was walking down the personal growth (or self help or whatever) aisle making my way to the counter, and I saw it. The book. By one of my favorite people. Here's a taste- watch the first 45 seconds to get a feel for where Isaac Mizrahi gets his fashion inspiration:

I remember watching this in school for Social Psychology of Dress (I think) and just being amazed at his process. It was a year and half before it made sense to me. I opened Vogue and GOT IT.

Anyway, tonight I've been reading how to have style by my man Isaac. This book is GREAT. It is not some sort of What Not To Wear breakdown of style, it shows more his process of dressing women and how to look good and mostly how to be adventurous with your own sense of style. Start an inspiration board (this won't be hard- I have two binders worth of tear sheets), pull out all of your clothes and try them on in any combination you can come up with. Mess with hems. Play with layers. ADD COLOR. (I think he put that in there just for me.) In other words, this book is EXACTLY what I need to be reading to get me out of this rut and I love it.

PS I know, I know, I totally slammed Carrie Underwood and now I'm admitting that I'm no stylist myself. The difference? RED CARPET EVENTS, baby!

Why God Invented Stylists

Before you read any further, please go look at these pictures of Carrie Underwood at the Grammy Awards. Go on. I'll wait. You can read it and vote too, I sure as heck did. (In case you're interested, my voting went something like this- YUCK, ok, WHAT? PEA SOUP and TOTALLY GUILTY!)

Now, why the hell is she dressing like some random cross between Shirley Temple, Xena Princess Warrior, and a 1970s Vegas lounge singer? She is WAY TOO YOUNG and WAY TOO CUTE to be messing with this stuff. Especially her outfit that includes a harness and hot pants. Which really was a relief because when her performance came on Sunday night I glanced up from painting my toenails and did a triple take thinking, "Surely this child has some pants on? That CAN'T be just a dress? Is it? Are those people on the floor getting an eyeful or WHAT?" Under the lights that dress just looks like some sheer skirt with a harness and you really can't see what is going on. And all I was thinking was "Please let the Fug Girls get to that SOON!"

Carrie, you're allowed to hire a stylist who will do you justice. You really can sing, you don't need some distracting outfits like Katy Perry to hide the fact that you can't. Because you CAN.

Crikey!

I got home from a business trip to Pennsylvania today. (Oh my gosh, according to spell check I spelled "Pennsylvania" right on my very first try! Those double "n"s always trip me up and look funny, but NO! I stuck to my brain and not intuition and for once I have spelled this state correctly. Please never ask me to spell the name of the state that is home to Boston, I regularly screw that one up and then feel dumb because, well, I clearly remember learning to spell it in middle school. It just didn't stick. I've always been an abysmal speller. But I spelled "abysmal" right too! I read in the airplane magazine that your brain hits its peak at 39, I must be getting smarter! I've got 10 or so good years left.)

Oh wow, how did all of that wind up in parentheses? ANYWAY, this is Ms Heather Ramblepants coming to you live from Nashville Tennessee where she is very grateful to live. Especially after spending days in a state so cold that I couldn't breathe when I walked outside. Whew! The air was so dry my knuckles are cracking, and my eyes rebelled and didn't stop watering for 2 days. (Okay, I really can't blame dry air on that I guess. Could have been the down pillows at the hotel. Or a very short case of pink eye.) I mean Jesus, how do people put up with that shit for months on end? I was glad to get to the airport (where it was 20 degrees and cloudy, with lots of snow on the ground), stuff my heavy winter coat in my checked luggage, and get my happy ass HOME.

Here in the land of more civilized weather, it was 60 degrees and sunny when the plane landed. Ahhhhhh, that's more like it. Yes, I was born in Maine but I think all of that tolerance for cold weather dried up years ago. I'm okay for a visit but I sure as hell am not going to be living in a climate like that. Unless, of course, I am forced to do so by something drastic like economics. Otherwise, I'm staying right here, thankyouverymuch.

So... weekend plans, aside from thawing out when it is 66 degrees tomorrow (LOVE IT) include my bookclub meeting tomorrow, catching up on Netflix (which I've downgraded to 2 discs at a time because I just never get to them these days), reading more of "East of Eden", doing something physically active, and eating up those Costco peppers. You now have all the news I am capable of giving at this time because I have to go soak my hands in hot oil or something.

PS While we're talking about spelling, I had to go google "Crikey" to make sure I'd spelled it right and apparently it's another word for "Christ". That means that not once but TWICE in one post I have taken the name of the lord in vain. Maybe I should capitalize that "L". Hmmmm....