Hot Lips

If you're wondering how awesome I looked at a recent Halloween party, or, on a related note, how I look as a curly-haired blonde, well...here.











Somehow, I had amazing foresight this year. The theme was the 70s, and my original idea was to go as Nurse Ratched from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's nest (the movie, naturally). So I was prepared to go and find a nurse uniform, old school, and do my hair in rolls as I learned while they were trying to design my Evita wench hair
back in the day (p.s. later designed it my self).
But here's what happened: Friday, I had to take my car to Findlay to get looked at and fixed (let's address the cost of that later), and I planned to do a little shopping afterward for my costume. There just happened to be a Kohl's nearby and, as I was talking to my mother on the phone (about the cost of repairs), I decided that maybe the better part of valor this year might be something simpler, something warmer, something like Major Margaret Houlihan of the 4077 M*A*S*H. I hadn't planned anything wig-related, but something told me--yes.
Then, inside Kohl's, I found the perfect pants and sweater. I mean perfect...they give the aura of Hot Lips's customary outfit, but they are also wearable clothing for the future. I went into Meijer and found a wig, and then I was on my merry way. I'd looked for dog tags, and planned to maybe go to Claire's once back in BG, but then I thought, eh, I can make some with tin foil and posterboard. I got home, ate some lunch, and went to school. And that's when it happened.
I started to feel like hell.
I was developing a massive cold. Suddenly, my purchases felt a lot wiser. I hadn't wasted money on anything I'd never get to wear. I had bought stuff that I could wear any old time, just in case I didn't get to go to the party at all.
By the time the party came around, I was feeling better, so I suited up, including a hat that I just magically had, and was off. One of my hosts was dressed as Hawkeye, and so I had some company and everyone knew who I was right away (p.s. he had dogtags...from Claire's). The costume was slightly sexy, but also warm...I think it's the first genuinely warm Halloween costume I've had since I've been here. I wasn't showing any skin at all, in fact, which suited my mood. And, I got a chance to test out blond. Good times.
Today...going to the doctor. That's right, for once I'm giving in and seeing if there are any drugs out there for me.

Culinary Masterpiece...Eventually

This weekend I attempted to make a roast for the first time, specifically a ribeye roast. It was basically the last non-round roast left at Meijer, and it was two pounds. So I did my little calculations for time to roast and how to get the Yorkshire pudding together (oh yes, it was all out cookery), made a cake, and planned the exact moment to get the roast in the oven. I was about five minutes past that, but still figured I'd be in good form.
By the time my guest had arrived and I was ready to get the thing cut up (having measured the temp with an instant read thermometer and planning for five extra degrees of post-oven, foil-covered cooking), it was still pink in the middle. Doh! Back in the oven for another ten minutes cut up in slices. I was a little bit appalled. Here I'd planned to have everything all set up and ready to eat at 6:10, and it took at least another twenty minutes on top of that. I was sad. I was frazzled. It was noticeable.
Just once I'd like to get a perfect meal ready on time. Is that too much to ask? Just once I'd like to be an attentive and smooth hostess ready to just hold a conversation and see to my guest's needs.
The roast tasted fine, so that was good. And the pudding, while a bit dark on the bottom and crispier around the edges than I'd like, also tasted fine, particularly with gravy on top. The roast, as small as it was, didn't have a lot of drippings, but I managed with what I got and a boullion cube. Truth be told, the gravy was made in haste and wasn't my best work, but it was all right.
The fresh green beans turned out perfectly, despite their rather hasty and distracted preparation and cooking.
And the cake? Oh, we ate far too much of the rest to eat cake. I had a piece later. It was good.
So, what I've learned is that the roast should be started at least twenty minutes in advance of the time I think it should, and then I can keep it warm until it's actually required. Possibly this plan will lead to tough meat, but as long as I check it frequently it should be fine.
I'm thanking goodness I decided not to roast a small chicken, was was my original plan.

Wednesday TV rocks.

So, I know you are all dying to know what I thought about PR last night, and here is a rundown of my responses:
Tim Gunn all verklempt? Priceless. I love you, Tim Gunn; you are beyond humanly possible in nobility and class.
The resolution of the Jeffrey concerns? Warm and fuzzy, just the way I likes it. As I mentioned earlier, when we found out four designers were going to Fashion Week, these four all have flashes of brilliance and entirely different tastes, and I was more than gratified that they all seemed content to be there with each other. The proposed compromise to the budget problem and the resolution of the investigation made me feel happy for them all. I could not have been more delighted if I were sozzled.
I was disappointed that Michael's collection seemed straight out of the Frederick's of Hollywood clothing section (yes, in fact they do sell clothing). Actually, there's another catalog they resembled even more, but I can't remember it. It has a similar flavor, but less of a rep. Certainly that's a style, and sometimes even a popular one, but I don't think it was his best work. I have a theory: Sometimes with young poets, I see the most creative work come out of exercises and projects with restrictions. It helps them seek their own style even as they strive to meet constraints. I think that's where Michael is, sort of finding his way still and how it might fit into reality of clothing. Note that the looks he showed in his audition portfolio (I noted this before Nina even said anything) were very similar, yet the looks on the show were crafty and innovative. Right now, Michael performs best when given rules to deal with. As he develops, he'll hopefully come into his own inner innovator.
Major props to Uil. I LOVE that little bone belt thing at the top of several of her dresses. My friend Amanda and I are in agreement that a different order to the collection on the runway might have softened that jarring neutral-to-print moment. But, I think the amount of applause she received during the showing is a good indication of its potential; I love that they included Nina saying she'd already had questions about getting in touch with Uli.
I am in love with Laura's collection. I would wear any of those dresses, and I am drooling over that low-cut one with the black lace cups and the little moue it made at the cleavage. Do you know how hard that is? It was exquisite. Not rangy, certainly, but Chloe won last year with a similar contingent. Fern Mallis didn't care that it didn't have range, either. I want Laura fashion. I want her to design red carpet dresses as long as she desires to do so.
I am still mad that Jeffrey was mean to Angela's mom. Likewise, I did not find his collection personally pleasing (or rather, like it made me want to wear the clothes). However, I am not upset that he won, because it was a collection with a point of view and with range, and I can absolutely see the woman (or girl, really) who would lean in that direction. I've already heard many comments lusting after the zipper dress. My favorite was actually the short navy blue dress, even though it didn't quite match up with the rest of the collection; actually, I didn't find Jeffrey's collection to be as cohesive as some pointed it out as being; the point of view was consistent, but the outfits sort of ranged to different degrees off that line (eg. that short wispy babydoll thing that looked like she put on an apron and called it quits).
In any case, I am left with the same feeling in which I started the show (post-results of investigation): Pleased for the designers, pleased for me, and excited about all of their potential career moves. It feels, as Tim Gunn so aptly said, that everyone is a winner!

Now, Top Chef has begun. It looks like it will be a snipy sort of season, which I hate, but the mere inclusion of Harold Dieterle as guest judge alone made me want to watch. He looks like he's been living well. I did enjoy that gal who made frog legs southern Sunday style. That's the way to eat! I also felt like the second group's mystery box ingredients were weirder than the first group's. I've been wondering if they felt the same way.
Ghosthunters was ok, but not as exciting as last week. Lost...I know a lot of people have dissed it, but I loved the polar bear. Any episode with monsters is okay by me. As far as ANTM goes...well, I'm sad to see AJ go, because her walk is killer.

I'm looking for a Wednesday tv anonymous group. Any takers? Things have gotten out of hand.

My skin has had it with fall.

Bleh. My skin looks old. As fall creeps through this year and the air dries while the temperature drops, my skin has put forth its protest with shadows under my eyes, mysterious tiny blotches, and dryness no matter how consistently I use my quality lotion. It's not cool. It also doesn't help that my allergies have peaked, as they do every year in September/October. Also my birthday is coming, and I fear I'm finally starting to look my age, rather than the several-years-younger thing I had going on for ages.
To combat such issues, I took a weekend and did a lot of nice stuff for me. On Friday, as noted, I went to the hockey game after the baseball game (TIGERS WIN! WOOT!. It ended up that I arrived right as the second period was going to begin, which was pretty perfect. I also went to the game Sunday and...well, this needs some explanation.
I'm trying to get a chapbook manuscript prepared for a competition. I don't do well in competition, but I wanted to send my demon poems. The only problem is that I didn't yet have enough, and while I've been picking away at it for a month, I needed about five more pages. I spent much of the weekend writing and revising poems! Do you know how long its been since I did that? It rocked my socks off.
One of my favorite demon poems to date was written at a hockey game. For some reason, that combination of being on my own with crowd background noise, the ability to look up and let my mind drift even while focusing on the puck, and sitting sideways on a bleacher, all while bundled into sweater and jersey, really makes my brain put out good work. And sure enough. I took my book to the game Friday but didn't do much. Sunday, though, proved to be most profitable, and I turned out exactly what I wanted to...the pack of poems needed another sort of imagistic poem full of figurative language and metaphor, something just a little spacey, and that's exactly what I wrote! How cool is that?
I have enough pages now to finish the chapbook up, but a couple of them aren't as strong as I'd like, so I'm going to try to write one or two more as well. It is awesome!
Then, of course, I took a bath on Sunday. That pretty much sealed the deal.
Weekends off rule!

Important October Details

First, a question: Does anyone know who the character Edith Ann is? Think 70s here.

Second, some thoughts about cheese; I've discovered the most magnificent cheese, and it is Sage Derby. If you enjoy cheese and like something a little unusual, and if you enjoy sage, you should eat this cheese immediately. I got it at Stimmel's Market.

Third, my car is being sad. Wednesday night it almost didn't start at all, and twice yesterday it quit when I tried to put it into reverse right after starting it. Baby, don't play that game with me. I love you and want you to be happy. But I need to get places, you know what I'm saying?

Fourth, Project Runway: I can't talk about it. It's too much to process. All my BG PR peeps were in a tizzy with me.

Fifth, I now, officially, watch too much TV.

Sixth, tonight I have to make a decision: watch Tigers or go to the hockey game? Can I do both? Would I be able to watch the Tiger game anyway? Would it make me too nervous? Should I bring some knitting to the game so as not to get nervous about that? Or write a poem, like I did "Blue Birth Demon," which got published? I don't know! I love it on Fridays when this is all I have to think about!

Wednesday:DND

Ok, Ok, maybe Do Not Disturb is excessive. I would certainly answer the phone or the door, and I wouldn't be upset about it.
But I gotta say, TV is heating up big time tonight. Witness...
8 pm: America's Next Top Model. (It's true that I abhor the teenaged dramas of these girls, but I love watching the photo shoots and seeing the results. I just mute the drama-in-the-house parts).
9 pm: Lost. (Stupid Steve. You are responsible for this desire to watch.)
10 pm: Project Runway. (Obviously the highlight of the evening. There is some drama afoot here, I know, but I love the episode where Tim visits everyone at their homes, and I look forward to seeing what everyone is up to).
11 pm: Ghosthunters. (PREMIERES TONIGHT! Oh yeah, baby. Actually, the show is at 9, but Sci-Fi takes massive pity on me by reshowing the ep at 11. Bless you.)
And, on top of all of this, game two of the Tigers vs. A's showdown. Tigers up 1 game, and as an obsessive Tiger fan of yesteryear (how many of you had a mini-Tiger shrine in her bedroom? How may of you dressed in a Tiger t-shirt and leggings and cap every time a game was on? How many of you carried a portable radio around the yard no matter what when there was a game on? How many of you fell blissfully into dozing from the 4th to the 7th innings on Saturday afternoons, tummy full of Faygo creme soda or Coke float? How many of you got as close to the TV as possible and stayed as quiet as possible during late night games so parents wouldn't tell you to go to bed?)
It's all good in the house.
Also, this weekend I planted mums.
Also, I ate a lot at home. One of my requests was oven-fried chicken, and oven-fried chicken I got and ate a huge amount of. My Mom rocks. Meanwhile, my Dad and I examined mysterious holes in the lawn out by the lake, holes that don't really go anywhere but are also not hidden as squirrel holes tend to be. It's quite unusual, but as Dad said, might be good for the lawn, aerating it and such.
Ah, home.
And now it's time to teach.

P.S.

By the way, I had another of those shining moments of recognition on Saturday. I was watching Harry Potter 4 and eyeing Mr. Crouch for the first time with that "where I have I seen him before" feeling. I was concentrating on the voice and the eyebrows, but just couldn't manage it. Then, later, I had my answer. Vicar of Dibley. Roger Lloyd Pack plays Owen. It was nice that Vicar of Dibley was on no more than an hour after I'd had that question to begin with. Didn't even have to wait until I had computer access. It was sweet.

Is it true...

...that I bought no fewer than two sets of pajama pants at Victoria's Secret for my new habit of changing into lounge pants when I get home? Yes.
...that I searched in every store I frequent, and some that I don't, checked every sales rack in reach, looking for the perfect black pants before deciding that, on balance, it was better just t0 pay full price for a nice pair at Express? Yes (after wasting 2 and a half hours. And they're a little bit big, but I think they'll be okay. I'm kind of between sizes at Express, but I really wanted a nice pair of pants).
...that I went to the Orange and White hockey game on Sunday and had a marvelous time? Yes. I have a student on the team, for the first time ever, which kind of rocks. And BGSU does not play MSU until February, so I have lots of Falcons-cheering time in between. Hockey season has begun!
...that I took an absurdly sparkly bath on Saturday? Yes.
...that a pickup truck flipped over in front of my house on Saturday night? Yes.
...that the truck flipped over while I was in the bath? Yes.
As far as I know, the truck driver lived. My neighbor was convinced he was dead, but after the crowd dispersed and the tow truck was getting ready to collect the truck, I asked an officer, who was very nice to me, and he said the guy was talking a little as they got him on a stretcher and into the rescue vehicle. They definitely had to pry off the top of the cab and the windshield to get him out. It was very scary. I haven't found anything in the news about it, so I guess he's all right.