Stuff Heather Thinks is Super Great

Not giving a fuck what people think.  New life goal, cats and kittens.  But let me know if I go too far and turn into a total asshole, okay?

Risotto.  I will learn to make this.  And I’ll have a dinner party at which it’s served, possibly nestling some salmon or chickpeas in a fancy sauce, and everyone will tell me it tastes delicious even if it doesn’t.  And then, bridge!  Or something along those lines.  The men can drink brandy and the women can too, because this is the twenty-first-century and gendering food or drinks is dumb.  Alternatively, we can skip the brandy (as it tastes like licorice, I’ve been told) and drink whiskey with grapefruit, with sugar on the rims of our glasses.

The Feast of Love, Charles Baxter.  I bought this novel in a secondhand bookstore because Charles Baxter is supposed to be good and the title, while cheesy, sounded like something I would enjoy.  Spoiler alert: it was!  Way more than I expected!  The  story began wonderfully meta and went in places I didn’t really see coming.  Has some magical realism too, though (whew) not in the Like Water for Chocolate, “eat food and get really, really turned on by it” way you might expect.  (Sidenote: has anyone here seen or read Like Water for Chocolate?  A teacher of mine screened the movie for our high school Spanish class.  It was way awkward.  Particularly the shower-on-fire-oh-now-she’s-abducted-naked-by-a-vaquero scene.)

Fitz and the Tantrums, “MoneyGrabber.”  Heard this for the first time at the work party I threw last week.  Fitz and the Tantrums remind me of the Scissor Sisters, another band I really ought to listen to more of.  New life goal: give a fuck about the Scissor Sisters, and only the Scissor Sisters.  Oh, and Fitz and the Tantrums.  Oh, hell, let’s be real — I give a fuck about everything in this column.  Obvs.

Lord Tubbington.  Because how could I not??


Burlesque.  So I heard about/ventured to an introductory workshop on the art of burlesque a few days ago, and suddenly I am watching videos of Miss Dirty Martini on YouTube and documentaries on the subject and checking out tuxedo underbust vests on Etsy.  (Re: vest — good idea? Bad idea?)  I came up with a stage name already, a character type, have started thinking of costuming… and I am still not particularly skilled at the performance part itself.  I’ve gotten a little ahead of myself, I think.  Picturing the spotlight before I have the stage, so on and so forth.  But we have to think big before we can get anywhere, right?  How can I become a sexy robot/librarian/luna moth without the intention?


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