Project Runway fans: You must go watch PR Canada. The guys at projectrunway.blogspot.com have links to the show. It is at least as good as the American version. It only lacks dear Tim. In place of Heidi, who distracts me with her loveliness (seriously, when she's on screen, all I can think is "it's not FAIR."), we have Iman. Iman hates you. She hates your design. You should lick the sole of her shoe. No, wait, she does not want your untalented spit on her expensive pumps. Get back, dog! She scares the crap out of me. I'm thinking of launching a "Save David Bowie" campaign. I think she has him in a trunk wearing a ball gag. But maybe he goes for that, who knows? In addition to her, the Slice.ca website has blogs for each designer. And they are not all nicey-nice, my friend. Sample Carlie:
They picked the worst collection on the stage to win. A collection of
three outfits that in the most boring color palette. Diaper-like bubble
skirts walking down the fucking runway. Those skirts were in fashion
years ago, so to sit there and see the judges pick a collection that
looked like that and was supposed to be innovative for Spring 2008 is a
joke. Not to mention that the theme of military romantics has been done
over and over again; I could vomit. Maybe the judges are too old
fashioned to recognize true innovation when they see it.
So yeah. A good read.
But I have a question...what is UP with Canadian hair? We have facial hair problems, as in their notTim and his porn star look:
And then one of the judges is sporting the Lionel Ritchie:
Not to mention the regular hair troubles (mange?) that plauge designer Biddel:
You can't even see the weird crop circles that are on the sides of his head, bless his heart. I'm thinking the Shear Genius crew has it's next assignment...
But get over there! Watch! Enjoy!
Ah, Halloween. One of the primary reasons to bother having children. Adult-only Halloween activities are creepy. There's a seediness about them, a desperation. Costumes seem to fall into three categories: Sexy (devil with push-up bra), Gruesome (I think you know), and needlessly clever ("I'm a Freudian slip! Get it?"). I understand and accept that this is the sort of activity societies always have, a loosening of social mores, an exploration of other identities, blah blah, where's my degree? but I still find them a bit oogy. I prefer a Halloween with joyousness and silliness and it's easier to pull that off if you're entertaining kids.
I worked the car line today in my kitty hat and kitty tail :
The little kids loved it. The middle schoolers thought it was funny. The upper elementary kids could not BELIEVE I was such a dork. They're the ones I said "meow!" to and chased with hairballs. I told Julianna this morning that it was a really warm hat and maybe I'd just wear it as a winter hat. Sadly, she doesn't embarrass easily yet. But wait. I will get revenge for all the times I carried a screaming child out of a store. For the times I had to cover for "Mommy, why is that lady so fat?" For catching vomit in my hands. Oh yes, revenge will be mine.
So this afternoon will be filled with hair and costuming, I imagine, since Julianna wants little knobs all over her head, sprayed purple. Dani is coming home with her and I'll have to do her hair as well. Lily wants silver hair. Ben...Ben still has not settled on a costume. The house looks great, if not a whole lot different from last year. Which, apparently, I never blogged....Hm...Well, it looked like this last year:
and isn't a whole lot different today. Those dia de los Muertos banners on the rail are now over the windows. And there are lots of day of the dead skulls on strings hanging down. We also have lots of red lights lining the walk this year, too. It all looks bright and festive with our bright and festive house. It pleases me.
This last episode of ANTM wasn't really worth the full blog. So I'll just make a couple of observations...
First, the horrible hair. You know what these weaves look like? Old Barbie hair. Ebony and Jenah were having some stilted conversation and they both looked like Barbies that had been played with in the tub and then left to dry under the sink.
And now, word about Sarah. Since I started watching this show, I have the occasional ANTM dream. I’m in the cast, I’ve made it to, say, the top 8 or so. I can’t believe it, I don’t know how I’ve made it b/c, let’s face it, I’m 40 years old and a size 16. And I’ve had 3 kids. But still they seem to like me. I’m under no illusion that I’ll win, but I’m doing okay. That is Sarah. What is she doing there? She’s pretty, okay, but she’s not stunning. Her body is way to humanoid. Yet, she remains. She’s okay. I doubt she’ll be there long, though.
This week brought us an ANTM first! It comes down to Ebony and Ambreal. For reasons known only to Tyra’s spies who told her that Ebony has been saying she’d like to go home, Ebony gets a picture, which would send Ambreal home. But Ebony says, “I want to go home” And Tyra give her the “I hate a quitter so yeah, you can go” like Ebony had gravely disappointed her, but really? It seems that Ebony really thought she wanted to be a model. And then it turned out she didn’t like it. So why the hating? But Ambreal is not hating, she is thanking god, who apparently has a long straight wig and a tendency to chew on her lip. I’m thinking that next week, it will be Sarah or Ambreal who goes home. The week after will be which ever of those two is left. Then Lisa or Chantal. Then the other of those two. Our final three will be Heather, Jenah, and either Bianca or Saleisha. That could go either way at this point. They really kind of owe Saleisha for that horrid hair cut.
I think I want to be played by Paul Lynde in the movie of me. Will it be a problem that he's dead? I've always wanted to be the fun gay uncle. I try to live that out down at Bev's. I give NYC obsessed Molly tips on theater and fashion. I gave Blair a drink of my cocktail when she begged ("Oh my gosh! Blech!!!). And I taught them how to say "Do you have a pencil?" in Latin. Or so I thought. My high school buddies that took Latin all said the classroom joke was to say Hab este penis? to Tali Johnson b/c she'd turn bright red. And that it just meant "do you have a pencil?" or something similar. But just now I went to a Latin translator and it was nothing of the sort. So it turns out I'm the fun gay uncle that lies. Which makes me even cooler, right? Jerry is going to get a restraining order though. First I taught them about the humor that lies within Uranus (snicker) and now this. So, Latin scholars, help me out. Amy?
One of my favorite old Emo Phillips gags goes a little like this: I was walking in the park last week and I saw Billy, from my first grade class. I hadn't seen him since first grade and I ran over to him, shouting "BILLY!" and I clapped him on the back. This knocked him down and he began to cry. And then I realized, Billy would have grown up too.
Sometimes I forget that people who were cool young grownups when I was in college are now...old. God help us, this is Morrissey (thanks to Pink is the New Blog):
Words (almost) fail me. I was still picturing this guy:
(I tried to find this pic of him in a sheer, tight fitting top, touching his own nipples, but that's just not a Google search I can face). But I imagine he's had the same 20 years that I have, eh? Doesn't he totally look like he's about to yell at you, drunkenly, for denting the car? I can smell the whiskey on his breath. I imagine he starts to sound like a nasty version of the Lucky Charms leprechaun..."Oh aye, meat IS murrrder but there's no meat in ale, lassie!" Oops, made him Scottish. That's just where my head is now, I guess. Can't even do accents on the computer. I can't quite convey how stunning I found these pictures. I knew he was still performing. And obviously people do age, but DAMN. I just never really thought about it.
Does he still do the poor waif routine? Does this paunchy old dude really sing the same maudlin songs he sang at 25? Because while it might have been a little bit cute then, it wouldn't be now. If he's still singing Unlovable, well, it's time for meds.
"Last night I dreamt, somebody loved me....and left me some Cheez-its!"
I realize that I haven't produced anything non-model related in some time. I apologize for being to busy living my life to stop and tell you people about it. Right. Like I'm not sitting here reading lolsecrets and Mimi Smartypants.
So....what's new? I actually got some sewing done. I made one drop off at the store and never went back. I have no idea if anything is selling or anything. Here's my crap! Later suckers! So I made a couple of pillows out of cashmere sweaters that I found at the thrift (and that neither Julianna nor I could wear). I'm making some Christmas throw pillows for people so very full of the season that the very pillows on the couch must reflect their joy. I hope to get some aprons done...I found these really cute old aprons with fruit appliqued on them--brand new at Goodwill. I bought five of them. I can't really just slap my tag on them and trot them in, so I need to scheme out a way to make them originals rather than just resale deadstock. Or maybe I'll just make the tag really nice. There's a store downtown that has expressed interest in my aprons and I really, really need to get in there. Soon. The laziness...it is so strong.
The Halloween count-down has commenced. The girls are going to be "punks" along with Bev's girls. It is very strange to have your child dress up as your childhood. It must have been like this for my mom when I became obsessed with poodle skirts and pony tails. Really kid? Oookay. The girls are kind of blurring the lines between 70s punk, 80s new wave, and 90s riot grrrl. But eh, it's Halloween. Plaid skirt, ripped up leggings with safety pins in and you're gold. Ben is planning on being a Pokemon trainer. As far as I can tell, they look like normal people but with odd hair and giant eyes. So he's all set.
I'm currently reading the second "Outlander" book "Dragonfly in Amber." They're juuuust this side of bodice rippers. Just enough history to make you feel like you're learning something when you aren't imagining how very cute Jaimie must be. Fans of men in kilts, you must get these. You'll learn all about the Jacobite revolution in 1745. Fans of the Jacobite revolution of 1745, you must get these. Because I suspect your pickin's are slim.
We just watched the season finale of "Mad Men." If you didn't watch it, get it on DVD when it comes out. Really one of the best shows ever. So well written, well acted and cool looking. I can't stop worrying about some of the characters and I'm usually not nuts like that.
Current rodent count in my house: 2 pigs (dear Rosie and Gypsy. They lives here.) 1 Resident hamster, Natalie. 2 foster hamsters, and 9 foster mice. Yes, that's right, foster mice. They are very cute, but the cats think we have lost. our. minds.
Okay, there. ANTM is on tonight you know.
I know, it’s like I just posted a recap! But some nice person was super speedy this week in getting ANTM to youtube. The sty-cam shows us that, like every other cast, the girls are slobs. Janet takes on the naggy mom roll and tells them to “respect” the house and “be proactive.” I’d leave crumbs in her bed for that. Also, the mom girl always goes home.
And then the girls go to hell. Really. They go to some room full of gymnastic equipment. Poisonous spiders? No problem. Lay in a grave right after my friend dies? On it. Look like a murder victim? You betcha. Uneven bars? I give. I’m going home, let Bianca have my crown. Okay, it’s just a trampoline. Benny Ninja is there, asking them to pose in mid-jump. He’s every bit as helpful as anyone on this show ever is. Ambreal ROCKED it. Heather, bless her, flailed like she was on fire. Lisa, who gives lap dances to strangers, lacked the confidence to jump. I love how they edit in music to give you an impression of each girl. Heather’s flailing is that much more ridiculous with the circus music. Ambreal is balletic with the tinkly fairie sprite music.
Today’s challenge--pose while being held up in the air by an ice skater. He’s some olympic dude wearing a square of fake fur on his chin to cover up some horrid disfigurement, perhaps a tattoo that says “chin rides 5 cents”. I will not accept that perhaps that is actual “beard” grown on purpose. It’s the usual stupid crap--Show us “anger” while a little man twirls you!--until we get to Heather who, it would appear, has more gravity than everyone else. She just won’t go air borne. It’s kind of hilarious. The girls asked to show “joy” are, not surprisingly, much better than those asked to show “anger” or “sorrow.” Ebony’s “sorrow” is taken straight from a Keane painting of “puppies for sale.” She’s not going to be around long. She sucks out loud. Lisa wins the shoot for Seventeen, even though she looked really awkward and weird. The other girls are annoyed. She picks Janet and Ebony to go with her. Stock in Seventeen magazine plummets.
The girls come back from their shoot and the jealousy club grudingly greets them. Bianca, who is awesomeness in a crispy bitch package, says to Lisa “Is that makeup making you break out?” Lisa was all “You hatin’?” No honey, she was just trying to be helpful. This prompts Lisa to give us our weekly dose of “I’m not here to make friends.”
The challenge is to pose as “high fashion gargoyles.” When isn’t it, really? Ambreal, suddenly getting all kinds of screen time, is afraid of heights. The fact that her expression never changes suggests that she is on her way home. Ebony proves herself to be some sort of idiot savant, utterly blank and bland until the camera starts clicking. Sarah serves hamburgers. She should sever Ozburgers instead. They’re much more fierce.
Going to panel, my prediction for the bottom three is Ambreal, Janet, and Sarah. Ambreal goes home. Holy mike, Jenah’s weave has gone south quickly. Real horrorshow. Kind of a toss up as to whether she or Miss J has the worse hair...Ebony’s shot is “broken, but so right.” Sure. If only her gums weren’t so big, then she’d make the big time. Mid-way through the panel, Tyra gets hungry. She pokes at Lisa to see if she’s sad for any reason. Jackpot! nobody likes her! All the other girls roll their eyes and smirk. Lisa gets first photo though, so taste it beeyatches! I was dead on with my final three! Woo! Janet and Ambreal are our final two. Oh, but they send Janet home. Which is good b/c she isn’t very pretty or tall or talented. But just think of what a rat hole that apartment is going to become without Janet around to nag...
I had this utterly brill, side splittingly hilarious post I wrote as I watched last week’s ANTM. But I stupidly closed the window I was writing in before I’d saved. GONE. The upside is that I can tell you it was as funny as I want to and you’ll never. know.
so, to sum: Do NOT sass Twiggy. Just don’t.
I knew, by the one minute mark, that Victoria was going home. That whole “meh, what the hell, I’ll be a model” attitude does not make Tyra happy. She wants hungry. Because she understands hungry. The kiss of death, of course, was that she got hardly any makeover at all. That’s always bad news. They’ve sent someone home right after making them cry about their hair. Those tears will buy you at least one episode. The other one who didn’t get much change was Heather, but I think that’s because they were afraid she’d go off on them with that Ozburger strength and just trash the place and rip out all the weaves. All without making any eye contact.
To show the girls what their cuts will look like, they use this lame freeware “download your photo and see what you’d look like with a new cut!” program. Stupid. But now we know what they’d look like as Sims. Which is nice. It really looked like we weren’t going to get any tears for this makeover show. Which is like, not acceptable. I mean, geez. We’ve had not one melt down over nicotine withdraw and now no tears about the hair? Janet goes from short brown hair to Pat Benetar. Ambreal goes from really short hair to really really short hair. Jenah gets the obligatory blonde weave that just looks kinda skanky at first and rapidly goes ratty. Should get her booted, so all bets off HER for the final 3. Unless they have pity on her like they did on that now nameless redhead from last season. Lisa gets a short cut that highlights the fact that her hair is thinner than your grandma’s. Ebony gets super long hair that will never be mistaken for her own. But can I just say that getting a weave looks like it HURTS. I shall now look at weave wearers with the same confused/pitying/contemptuous look I’d used for women in stilettos. Saleisha got this weird puffy little dutch boy cut that makes her look like someone’s adopted Chinese daughter. Chantal gets bangs. And then, just when you thought we were going home dry, it turns out Bianca’s hair is too damaged to turn platinum blonde. Pity, I know, b/c that’s such a classy look on a black woman. Instead of giving her long blond hair? They’re going to shave her head and give her a “medical grade” wig. Really, has anything ever sounded as luxuriant as “medical grade?” But damn her, she didn’t burst into tears. So Jay’s all “How does that make you feel? You look upset.” Still, nothing! So they call in Miss J, who actually whistles “Hush Little Baby” while dabbing Binaca’s eyes with a hanky and then holds it up, declaring it “soaked in model tear droplets”! But Bianca, she just sat there. That, my friends, is FIERCE.
She interviews that she thinks she looks ugly, but she looks a hundred times better. Saliesha hates her hair, which shows that the mirrors are working. Sarah loves her hair, which suggests maybe the opposite. She went from being a pretty girl to a pretty mom. So they have some dumb Cover Girl makeup challenge wearing Cover Girl makeup in their Cover Girl makeup stations. They have to create a “dramatic eye paired with a glossy, nude lip.” I’m assuming they have free reign to make the other eye hilarious and the other lip dull and over dressed. Sarah wins. Victoria, poor dear, was at a terrible disadvantage b/c they don’t wear make up at Yale. Perhaps she should be studying the history of make up, huh?
The photo shoot is some silly thing where they pose as flowers. Bianca is shown first, looking lovely. Jay tells us how great she was on set and how sometimes you need a “complete emotional meltdown to build yourself up.” So they totally did her a favor by shaving her head and taunting her! Sweet! Unfortunately at panel? No one likes her shot. So...whatever. Likewise, Jay compliments Saliesha on rocking her Cousin Oliver look but at panel? Nope. Oh, and if you weren’t sure earlier, Victoria continues to go on about how silly high fashion modeling is (I know!) and how it doesn’t feel natural to her, blah blah blah...see ya.
So, you know, no drama at panel. You know and I know it’s Victoria. Especially after this classic exchange:
Twiggy: I think it’s quite remarkable that you were given cactus because it’s quite prickly an---
Victoria: Let’s get one thingstraight? I don’t have a prickly disposition.
Good going!
I really thought the other one at the bottom would be Ebony, but it was Saliesha and her horrible hair. Which had nothing on Jenah’s rat weave of horrors which was already disintegrating by the end of the show. but Jenah was called first, so yay for her. And Victoria was far from torn up about leaving. Which is, of course, why she’s leaving.
And Miss J? The ever growing afro? Really, really stupid.
Today is rather sucktastic. Granted, it's all relative and given how it COULD have gone, it's okay. At no point did I live in Africa, so that's a check in the positive column. Bev and I were off to pick apples on a perfect fall day when I got in a rather nasty car accident. No major injuries, none whatsoever to me or my kids, but the other driver flipped his car into the median. And let me tell you, that is not a thing you want to see. Again, as in the purple cow scenario, it is better to see than be, but still. I really really don't think it was my fault, and Bev, who was behind me doesn't think so either, but another witness and the driver say it was, so I did get a ticket. And that's just enough to have the niggling guilt eating at my gut. I think he just got a bonk to the head--he did get up and walk away, but oy. oy. As for the rest of the day? Well, I'll just say that if any of you were hanging on to AOL out of loyalty to us? You needn't bother anymore. Again, it's going to be fine, Steve has a gazillion ideas and smart friends with money, but still. oy. oy. Today, she is ass.
Yesterday was my 14th wedding anniversary. Because he is the best boy ever, Steve arranged for a babysitter last night and we went out to the Melting Pot for dinner. We tend to avoid chain restaurants, but the need for fondue won out. It was very yummy, if rather costly. We started with the traditional swiss fondue, then had a salad, then shared a platter that had both things Steves eat and things Deanas eat on it. Then, of course, the dessert--chocolate hazelnut fondue. The cheese was the best of it, but it was all tastey. Our waiter was fun, a 24 year old guy who teaches autistic middle schoolers. Seems the sort of thing that requires a sense of humor. Or heavy drug usage. We were a bit disturbed to realize that he was born only 2 years before we met, though. Our booth was near the kitchen, which has a sharp turn into it. Everyone that entered had to call out "corner!" It was odd. Like being near a really punitive kindergarten teacher. I had to wonder what the kitchen was like, though. I mean, there's no chef, since you cook yer own damned food. Is it just cutting-up-food guys? All the fondues were made table side and the food is brought out raw. The third course involved cooking the stuff in either oil or broth (we chose broth b/c we're really, really health conscious). You get a safety lecture that OSHA would approve--the pot is hot, the burner is hot, the metal objects that you dip into the broth/cheese/chocolate will quickly become hot so do not put it in your mouth, dumbass. The pot of boiling broth or oil comes to the table in a medieval looking vise called a Romulator (insert dorky Star Trek joke here, lord knows I did). Everything is quite showy. If the waiters could learn juggling or ventriloquism it could only improve the experience. Last night was, apparently, Ladies Night Out which of course meant drinks ending in "tini" were on the menu. Damn you Carrie Bradshaw and your lousy taste in alcohol! I guess I should just be grateful that it was pink drinks and not knickers that she made popular. Anyway...the food was good, the place felt a little staged, and it was lovelyto have a nice, leisurely meal with my honey. Next year in Paris!
Ah, youtube and my beloved dodash8. I can tape new shows--Pushing Daisies, haven't seen it yet--without missing Model. Yay.
So. Bianca. Geez. She gave Kimberly bad walking advice, not b/c Kimberly is something of a monster but b/c she wants to screw her up. And let it be noted that this does not make her "a bad friend." What would, exactly? Beer in the weave? And then she's crabbing about how Heather is getting a "pity leg up." Yipes. Girl better be going home this week.
They go to the "fashion madhouse." Are girls really that scaredy? Would you really, knowing that you were going on a photo shoot, or at worst some challenge, scream like a freak when someone comes towards you? There's a photo crew RIGHT THERE. Clearly you are in no danger. Sure, Miss J makes me a little uneasy, but I don't see the screaming. Their boyfriends aren't there, so they don't need to pretend they need an arm around them. So they have to wear straightjackets and walk down a runway at the same time. Because, as Miss J points out, this sort of thing comes up in the fashion world all the time. Right. And these are just the gals who will be hired for those sorts of shows. Totally. Or MAYBE, MAYBE it's because if they fall off those heels, they won't be able to catch themselves and it will be funny? I will say that I have worn a straightjacket before (shut up. It was for a play), and it is really unsettling to not be able to use your arms. Contender for Quote of the Week from Victoria: " I got into the top history program at Yale, but I can't walk down a runway." Bet the girls from Harvard can walk. Sadly, no one falls over. Total waste of a gimmick. They should have put them on stilts, too.
Awesome. Bianca and Kimberly are lying together (wocka chicka), asking Saleisha about her modeling experience. Saleisha starts to get cranky. Bianca accuses Saleisha of being border-line plus sized(?!) and then accuses her of looking "like a Bratz doll" (um, kettle? pot. [was that racisit?]). Bianca is certain that her mouth will get her "everywhere in this business." Um...okay....that sounds kinda dirty. She then tells her little audience that she will do whatever she needs to including "cutting up clothes." Whooo baby. I take it back. She canNOT go home.
The runway challenge is to model fashions by Colleen Quen. She makes really beautiful, whimsical couture.
The challenge winner gets to go to Paris to walk in Quen's premiere show there. None of them really stood out, but in the end, Saleisha wins it. Bianca dies a little inside. Honestly, I couldn't focus on anything but the asstastic job Roy Campbell was doing as an MC. cheesier than a Wisconsin deli plate.
The photo shoot puts them in climbing rigging, on a climbing wall, wearing gowns and "edgy editorial (read: ugly) makeup." Stoo-pid. Victoria, bless her, says that she felt like "a sea nymph on acid scaling a wall in the sunshine." I think we've all been there. Kimberly commits the sin of being too pretty. Lord knows we don't want that. She says she wants to be "a role model" for the girls with a normal life. Not those clingy ones, for sure. It's one of those moments that make you say, "Have you SEEN this show?" At any point, has a judge said, "She's refreshingly normal!" (answer: no). Heather's shoot is terrific of course, because she's like Rain Man, but with pretty in place of counting cards.
We go to panel. Tyra looks lovely but speaks with a semi-French accent that comes and goes. Miss Jay is sporting the Cosby Kid look again. That horrid Roy Campbell (whose name makes me think of Hee Haw) is the guest judge. I'm worried that if they don't stop fawning over Heather, the other girls are going to poison her. They just don't know what to do with Victoria. She's very serious at panel and asks questions and then goes and takes a good photo. She still looks like a horse, but hey. I do NOT get the Janet love. Pretty mom (provided your mom yanks ass hair for a living), but not model. In the end, however, Bianca and Kimberly (bi-atches!) are the bottom two and Kimberly goes home, even though Tyra really likes her...ears. Yes, her ears.
Last night was booze free. We didn't even watch telly. We just sat with our laptops, parallel playing like toddlers. But the night before was Alberta's Spa Collins (YUM!!) and House (love him!) Janet gets to drink with me. Andi does not.
Today's bumpersticker, seen as I walked to pick up my van and convince it that it totally does not need a transmition and that thunk between gears is just the car equivalent of a fierce stomp: Dyslexic Devil Worshippers Sell Their Souls to Santa.
Watched last week's "Reaper" last night, it was funny. Watched most of "Aliens in America," it was not. Watched about a minute of "Moonlight," gagged, fast forwarded to at least see Logan being a vampire and nearly wept at the horribleness of it all. Dreadful. And I'm predisposed to like both vampires AND Logan. The writing...it was like someone was writing a parody of a terrible TV show. Only without being funny. Just eck.
My new hobbie is making cocktails. I got hooked by watching Alberta Straub's web show. Her mojito (the flightito) recipe was just SO good. So I've tried several of hers and the got a book as well. Because when I become interested in something, I buy books and supplies. That's what we do. Last night, we tried the La Floridita Daquiri and the Caipirhina. Both were REALLY good. I was esp. fond of the second one. It's made with Cachaca, a Brazilian spirit that's kind of like Rum, but made from sugar cane, rather than the molasses. or something. It's a yummy thing. Lest it look like I've hopped on an already stale trend, I must stress that I'm not making Appletinis or Cosmos. I'm making vintage cocktails. Like Don Draper would drink if it weren't entirely girly to mix the spirits with anything except ice cubes. It would slow him down to have to mix things. I like that part though. C'mon over!
Weather is gorgeous. Steve stayed home to work on the porch swing. Not that it needed repair, but he did his work on the porch swing. It's just lovely out. The weekend, once we got through the hairy part, was nice. I love the Braddock Heights picnics; there is always live bluegrass music and everyone brings a dish and it just feels like "hey, I live in a little community in the mountains." I get the warm fuzzy part of rural without the scary, isolated part. Non-threatening banjo music. The picnic was followed by the Historical Society's auction. I bought a print by local artist Yemi. It's of the spires of downtown Frederick, our previous abode:
I also got some Braddock Heights memorabilia from the old amusement park-like thing that used to be here. I hate that I can't time travel and see it in person.
Saturday night, we had a bonfire with the Donalds which is always nice. Sunday I hit Super Sunday, which was fine and productive. I didn't feel all that well, so I only hit one store and then took to bed to read Outlander. Which is lovely. Then Sunday night, Lara and I went to see Stardust at the cheap theater. I liked it. It's been a while since I've seen a movie like that. It felt like a Terry Gilliam movie--odd and beautiful. Claire Danes--go back to the red hair. The blonde makes you look like Gwyneth Paltrow, who is lovely, but of whom we already have one. Charlie Cox is absolutely adorable, but since he was born in 1982, I shall have a motherly attitude toward him. I would like to make him some soup. Ricky Gervais was hilarious, of course. it was a flawed movie, but such a nice change. Just a nice love story with great scenery and costumes and a healthy dose of silliness.
Now I shall buckle down to a week of serious TV viewing. What have you loved this season?
