What was your very first cookbook? I bought a coffeetable cookbook for beginners summer after my first year of college so I could feed myself. I learned that marinating fish/meat/poultry in citurs juice is the shit, and that I do not like fritattas, or at least I do not like them cold, which the recipe said was a…

I tend to get my shoes at Nordstrom rack for $20-40. Occasionally I will splurge by going to regular Nordstrom where they are $65-100. Sometimes I experiment with ordering a pair online that is supposed to be very high quality, and those often come in at around $150. At all of these price points, I wear the shit…

My excuse for not watching is that I in fact wanted to watch it but couldn’t get motivated to go to the gym/do laundry until Sunday afternoon, and by the time I was done, there was no time for movies. I somehow feel oddly responsible, despite the fact that the two tickets my husband and I would have bought could not…

Yeah, it was a whole big thing. My mom has some body issues.

Tell it to Richard Armour:

“Notes of powder, musk, fresh cut iris, and swamp butt!”

Since fairies is getting it’s ass kicked, I’m choosing to believe that the people who voted for it are those of us picturing the traditional kind, and particularly attached to that vision.

“But only assholes wear cologne.”

That would make more more interested in sampling this.

‘What the hell is the scent of “powder?”’

Generic demon was taken away from me, so I am voting succubus.

I am voting for fairy. The dangerous kind that will lead you deep into the forest chasing after lights you can never quite catch until you are hopelessly lost.

You’re thinking of the wrong kind of fairies. I voted for the kind who invites you to a ball and when you wake up on what you think is the next morning, your feet ache everyone you’ve ever loved is dead.

This is why I chose fairies, even though I know it will lose.

I get why fairy is losing, but I want to reiterate that the kind of fairy I am voting for is mean and fancy and tricks you into dancing until you die.

“equal parts powder and musk and the zing of fresh-cut iris.”

That sounds painful to me, but I bet it’s a relief when it happens.

Ouch.

Betty Smith wrote in a ten cent copybook on a firescape with a view of invasive ailanthus trees. She poured but did not drink hot coffee all day long, taking comfort in the warmth and the smell as she wrote. The copybook was purchased at a 5 and dime run by an old man whose time-ravaged face scared all the…

I’m turning over a new leaf. Starting today, no more mercilessly poop-shaming those less fortunate.