Tucson was so wonderful. Truly, I feel much more relaxed and better able to face this semester after almost two weeks of seeing all the people I love most. But now I'm back, and it's raining outside but the sun is shining through and illuminating all the buildings with this uneartly light. I don't know if I've ever seen anything quite like it.
So far I feel good being here, if a little daunted that the first reading assignment for my performative masculinities class is 200 pages long and that I have a lot of playing going on for the next week and a half or so. Nothing much has happened, really. Which is okay, frankly, as when things happen they frequently suck. I just started reading a book of poetry by Mary Oliver (that's where this entry's title comes from), and I love her writing already.
I haven't posted a recipe in a long time, but I made some kick-ass lentils and rice last night. I think the key was putting in a lot of pepper, it really gave them a great flavor. I put a bay leaf and some chopped garlic into the pot while they were boiling, and then just lots of salt and pepper and marjoram afterwards. I topped it with Tofutti fake sour cream, and it was delicious.
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