What I've been...
Reading/Abandoning: John astutely observed last night that he and I both read for style, and often, when you've read a third or a half of a book, you've pretty much got that down—which may be why I haven't finished too many books lately. I read the first half of Elizabeth Costello, which I liked very much, but then I put it down for a couple of weeks and realized I don't care a whit "what happens to the characters" (it's not that kind of book). I read ~40% of Tampa, which is very smutty, and that's fun, but the book itself, outside the smut, is not my thing at all—it's not a language novel like Lolita, and it's not realistic enough to be shocking. I read most of Farrah Field's recent book of poems, Wolf & Pilot, which is beautiful (small essay upcoming in Lemon Hound about that), and now I'm reading Madness, Rack, and Honey, Mary Ruefle's book of rambly, discursive essay-lectures on poetry. It's terrific. I like her prose much more than her poetry, in fact; her poems have always struck me as a little dopey and downmarket.
Eating: I've been making refrigerator pickles, using this brine on carrots, cucumbers, onions, bell peppers, and jalapenos. They are incredibly easy and require no fancy canning supplies/skills. I will never let veggies go bad again! Have also been making variations on this Vietnamese-ish noodle dish almost weekly. The nuoc cham and the shallots are so good.
Sniffing: SOTM is Angel Liqueur de Parfum, an even richer version of the original. Last night I tried Santa Maria Novella Tobacco Toscano, which was lovely, but (#protip) almost identical to the more affordable and widely available Midnight in Paris. Aside from sampling, I've been wearing L'Eau Mixte a bunch, my new favorite grapefruit scent. Like a good Campari cocktail, it strikes a perfect balance between sweet and bitter.
Otherwise: We did six performances of The Designated Mourner, the first production of Denver Poets' Theatre. They were terrifying, awesome, etc. Our last show (for now—our lead, Aaron Angello, has left for a month-long hike on the Colorado Trail) was at our friends' Noah and Sommer's house, and one of our best I think. Noah took this crazy picture—it appears I've gotten so much into character I'm now actually a ghost.
Speaking of photographs and immanence, etc., I posted this portrait of my mother (taken in high school) on Twitter and everyone was all, "That looks just like you!"
Isn't it weird how you don't see your own family resemblances? It's like how you can't tickle yourself.