she's back

back again!

in the meantime, i have:

• not watched as many episodes of battlestar galactica as i'd hoped (only on 4.5 -- and to think i'd been afraid of finishing before the end of the school year!), but it helped like you would not believe with my thesis
• watched a hard day's night & subsequently acquired every single beatles song + enough knowledge to sometimes have coherent discussions abt their music + the strangest complex re: john lennon being literally despicable & john lennon being a fascinating, v talented dude
• committed to the university of ------------ !
• earned myself a trip to france this summer (three weeks in champagne, i think?)
• baked the following chocolate chip/chunk cookie recipes, with varying levels of success -- still in search of the perfect one: salted chocolate chunk cookies (smitten kitchen), crispy chewy chocolate chip cookies (smitten kitchen), brown sugar chocolate chip cookies (butter baking). all good! all recommended!
• read THE GOLDFINCH which changed my life; also HUIS CLOS which changed my life as well but not really in the way sartre probably intended
• not been home enough to do much else besides learn how to play twist & shout really, really clumsily on my guitar i've had for six years & only just truly started to play

notes on a febrile february

having spent the first week of this month with the flu & the latter weeks with an overwhelming sense of...being overwhelmed, I'm glad it's over. it brought with it a few good things, though?

first, TALK TO ME ABOUT: battlestar galactica, first & foremost. & always. much of the latter half of the third season was a drag. "maelstrom" included. (blasphemy? never!) I had a feeling that that wouldn't be the last we'd see of Kara Thrace. but! CROSSROADS. "all along the watchtower," the version I'd heard even before I heard the real thing, was everything I expected, just as lovely as I expected -- but the courtroom with Lee & Romo Lampkin & Baltar, Adama judging, Roslin on the other side was absolutely something. it's not in the least cheesy, as I'd feared it would be. not even when Lee has his Big Ol Monologue about Justice and Guilt and Accountability and all the most important things in the world, no, it's wonderful. it's wonderful & you will feel so righteous & so proud of what Lee's grown up to be. the Adama Drama of the entire season comes to an end; Lee's doing what he ought to have been doing all along. that is, showing the rest of the fleet how to do the right thing instead of being holed up as CAG.

RAZOR: didn't expect anything, was (as usual) completely surprised. there are few things I wish the show would do better: one of them is expand on the commander-xo relationship between Lee Adama & Kendra Shaw. also: Kendra + Kara, the friendship we deserve, the friendship we barely got to see before we said goodbye!

THE FIRST reading block of the year presented itself. usually, I enjoy jo nesbø's writing. COCKROACHES, however, was a drag. like, more of a drag than the all the tyrol-centric episodes of bsg combined. gillian flynn, on the other hand, has been a godsend. gobbled up SHARP OBJECTS, gobbled up GONE GIRL almost as fast (if only I hadn't totally spoiled it for myself). DUNE & its sequel DUNE MESSIAH proved far better than I thought they were upon my first reading of them at age 12; I still think the plot's pretty capital-B Basic, but what Herbert has to say about religion is killer. more later.

pictured: blackberry oat muffins (highly, highly modified from the linked recipe, which'll lead you to smitten kitchen's blue sky bran muffins. among other things: I didn't have any bran), mom's strawberry beignets,

a) i still exist (existence precedes essence, cogito ergo sum, what? r&g left me confused on several levels.)
b) i have been reading a lot! i have so much to say about so many books! mostly those by gillian flynn! but others as well! which leads me to the fact that i:
c) have changed my thesis topic, more later. (a thesis of little consequence, as i've said before, but a thesis i'm no less into because of it. think BATTLESTAR GALACTICA, but not in the same sense.)
d) also, i should memorize this in the next month.

winter scenes

from the top: the best snickerdoodles, blondies (or simply blondie batter, if you want to stop at that point -- I nearly did) | lavash bread (will leave the pizza to your imagination; ours were heavily inspired by all the lavash & otherwise pizza we ate in Pasadena!)

thesis thoughts (ii)

• reading Dean Young's AGE OF DISCOVERY & considering how humans can't use science to explore the Big Things: like, in this poem, LOVE.
• reading everything Dean Young's ever written.

thesis thoughts (i)

AT PRESENT: still as-yet unable to articulate what exactly (as opposed to exactly what) it is that I'm writing about, despite having read (everything) I can find on the subject. the mysterious subject. the subject about which I can say nothing definite besides that it is The Subject. but I can give you a general idea?

• there is A Reason out there -- perhaps not my raison d'être, but it's close. it's the reason I so love BATTLESTAR GALACTICA: humanity, yes (and how -- my brother often walks in while I'm watching it & complains that it's not as "futuristically focused" as its name would have it. "DIRTY HANDS" did this more than most; give me another show that has an entire subplot devoted to collective bargaining rights. in space. mais I digress.) humanity, but also good science + scientists, engineers, doctors. plus a healthy dose of UNKNOWN in the form of the cylon god. it's this UNKNOWN in which I'm interested, but only in its sci-fi setting.
• which brings me to INTERSTELLAR -- I'm interested in that particular thing in that particular setting because sci-fi ought to be able to explain everything. it tends to overexplain, in the case of William Gibson. but when confronted with this UNKNOWN, it can't. the characters -- civilizations, whatever -- are at a loss. the book/film/show ends with this unknown still unknown. this is where INTERSTELLAR & 2001 diverge. (this is also where I ought to stop using italics to make my point.) the former loves explanation too much! the latter leaves all things up in the air. there are those -- physics majors usually -- who appreciated INTERSTELLAR's explanation of its own climax. I thought I would; I didn't. I am not religious, but I'd have preferred the fifth-dimensional humans to be gods; they are, I suppose (in their incredible difference from us), god-level, but they are never explicitly referred to as gods. perhaps that's the point. perhaps I'm missing it completely. anyway, an excess of quantum physics does not always a compelling story make.
• that said, these are the books I've read: MISS SMILLA'S FEELING FOR SNOW (not at all science fiction, but mystery, which tends to have the same problem; also, chock-full, at least in the beginning, of lovely Euclidean metaphors) & EINSTEIN'S DREAMS (the whimsical end of speculative fiction, ridiculous notions of time interspersed with the publication of the theory of relativity itself) & SOLARIS (the most fitting: direct mention of the UNKNOWN being a godlike figure, but a fallible god, a childlike god -- read it!)
• so: mankind! womankind! humankind! versus the unknown. books that refuse to explain themselves. this is getting more concrete by the...week.

lastly: fully aware that this is a thesis of little consequence, as theses go -- but damn it if I haven't been asking everyone what they plan to write about, even if I don't know myself what I plan to write about, beyond ~vagueness~.

the choice says a lot about a person, I think, as do most choices involving books. currently reading: Mann's BUDDENBROOKS, introduced to me by my interviewer for [redacted; nobody needs to know where I'm applying! because nobody else tells me the truth about where they're applying! & I'm not high-minded enough to rise above the struggle, it seems.] it's her favorite novel. an inversion of P&P, so far, and German to boot.

A DAY IN AUSTIN & ELSEWHERE: several Caldwell kolaches (including: poppyseed, delicious but might maybe make you opium-positive), a lot of Kerbey Lane + a lot of SoCo, three $50 dresses (as in: affordable & frankly a steal, but more than I am comfortable spending -- but also p gorgeous), PRINCIPLES OF AMERICAN NUCLEAR CHEMISTRY, cacti growing out of dinosaurs, too-decadent bread puddings, a hard-fought & well-deserved Lady Aggie victory over Vanderbilt, and two instances of celery-craving later, I am home.

it was a very good one (as I race to bed, eager to keep up my EIGHT-HOURS-OF-SLEEP-STREAK before waking up at 7:30 to film tomorrow morning. peace.)

new year, new pb cookies

hello, 2015!

2014 was...a rollercoaster. one with only one hill. the first half of 2014 didn't treat me very well, but the second half totally made up for it -- this past semester senior year has been wonderful & I'm so thankful to everyone (& myself, I suppose) for making it that way. (let me say: 17th birthday onward, life has been literally & figuratively perfect. that's all of November & December -- uncharacteristic!)

thus, I have high hopes for the first half of 2015.

but we'll travel back in time just a little bit: here, I present to you the last of 2014's (very few & far between) baking experiments, tried originally for a cute, small gathering to ring in the nouvel an (with PITCH PERFECT & prickly pear, among other things that don't all start with the letter 'p').

subsequently (sitting at home the following day with the remaining ten or so), I realized that they were severely lacking in salt. however, that didn't stop me from eating all of them at once & only feeling a little bit guilty -- I mean, they're not patently unhealthy?

flourless pb cookies
adapted from claire robinson's flourless peanut butter cookies
makes 16, ish

1 cup honey roasted peanut butter
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup white sugar
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 large egg

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. In a large bowl, cream the peanut butter & sugar together really, really well. When you think you're done, go a little longer. (Unless you want grainy cookies.)

Add the baking soda & salt, then the vanilla extract; mix well.

Lightly beat the egg before adding it to the bowl with all of the other ingredients.

The dough's done; refrigerate it for as long as you can stand. I managed 30 minutes before I decided that I really wanted to move on with my life, but I have faith that you can beat me.

Place (not spoon; the dough is, hopefully, fairly thick) tablespoon-sized dollops onto a parchment-covered baking tray. Leave more than an inch between cookies; these spread a lot! Use a fork to press the cookies down, making cute crosshatch patterns if you so desire.

Bake for about 10 minutes & allow the cookies to cool for a while once they're out of the oven. You can freeze them; I thought they tasted better that way.

consumption report // notables of 2014

as I am truly bad at a) going to the movie theatre, b) visiting Barnes & Noble / reading the NYT's bestseller list / not going straight to the back of the library, and c) changing the radio to a non-NPR station in the car [d) all of the above, yes?] -- this is a list of the best media of 2014 as I experienced it, not as it entered the world. which means that a good chunk of it is not from 2014.

uncategorized & in no particular order (actually, in an intentionally confusing order):

battlestar galactica (2004) is a show I've been watching for two years now, and I'm still in the middle of the third season. it is haunting & lovely & frustrating & highfalutin & down-to-earth & all too much, so contradictory in the best of ways.

interstellar (2014) was transcendental! way-too-soaring pianos & inexplicable climax (regrettably, explained anyway) notwithstanding. I cried; the father-daughter bond was the film's greatest strength. I will say nothing further; the ending makes everything rather hard to discuss without a thorough knowledge of what the hell was going on with that black hole. 

deutschland: ein sommermärchen (2006) was one of the many good things to come out of my midsummer German/soccer/German soccer kick. (unusual for such obsessions, that.) if you already love the German NT, this film is precious -- filled with the WC débuts of Basti & Poldi, a questionable haircut given to Miroslav Klose, dear old Jürgen Klinsmann back before he transplanted to California -- back when he had Joachim Löw working underneath him. (if you don't already love them, you will.) you know how the 2006 World Cup ended; that won't change the suspense you'll feel leading up to the match that [redacted, in case you were somehow living under a rock during all the 2014 coverage & don't know how it ended]. it'll make you laugh & cry & feel all fuzzy inside, as do the best of sports films.

run lola run (1997) is the movie I now put under "favorite movie" when STAR WARS seems too trite. (hello, USC application.) it's that good -- perhaps only because I watched it while feverish, as I've yet to watch it again. but the memory is good -- as were my memories of STAR WARS as a twelve-year-old, before I watched it aged fifteen & felt jaded. I've taked about this twice before: Franka Potente, violently redheaded, racing through Berlin. three times over. to a killer soundtrack. what's not to love?

l'auberge espagnole (2002) is adorable & accurately represents all of my pipe dreams. also, it stars Romain Duris & (sort of ) Audrey Tautou, so why aren't you watching it right now?

guardians of the galaxy (2014) is all I've ever needed out of a Marvel film; it's more irreverent yet has more heart than THE AVENGERS (like, Groot's last line beats every line of throwaway dialogue in that film, much as I appreciated it) & it's full of really good music. as a plot point, to boot. also, just watching the DVD extras & seeing James Gunn's passion for what he's created was pretty incredible (& pretty daunting; don't send me to film school, I cannot handle that much work).

brooklyn nine-nine (2013) is a show I ought to have started watching during my time in the doldrums last year. it's heartwarming, even among -- well, everything in the news about the NYPD these days -- and it's unfailingly hilarious. Andy Samberg is golden, but I think Stephanie Beatriz is my favorite. almost an inspiration to wear all black, every day. almost.

mona lisa smile (2003) is very much as dogmatic and as heart-rending as DEAD POETS SOCIETY, but it's full of girls with their gorgeous wardrobes & doesn't feature a death, which apparently makes it far less worthy of critical attention. bullshit, I say. sure, Julia Roberts's feminist streak in the film is a bit pushy, a bit much -- but others call her out on it, which is one of the film's greatest strengths. you will fall in love with every character: Maggie Gyllenhaal is absolutely sublime, Kirsten Dunst is a sneaky not-quite-bad antagonist, Julia Stiles is the one who calls her professor out, & Ginnifer Goodwin is... underrated & underrepresented in the promotional material. if there's something the producers did very wrong, it's that.

modern vampires of the city (2013) provided the borderline-depressing soundtrack to my physics/chemistry/calculus studying of March & April. it's not sad, per se, & it's not The National's particular brand of melancholy. it's not even melancholy, really. "step" & "ya hey" & eventually the entire album will get stuck in your head & make you horribly nostalgic.

long time, no see; have some photos from Pasadena. (click to enlarge; justify the third of my savings I spent on a nice camera + lens.)

thxgiving

we've never been good at Thanksgivings: I mean, we certainly know how to be grateful, but when it comes to big family dinners ("big" re: both family and dinners), we're at a bit of a loss.

my closest extended family is my uncle, in Leeds; everyone else is in India, a day-long flight away. we're pretty good at eating, but not that good, and neither of my parents like pumpkin pie. (as a consequence, I've never even tried it -- though I'd very much like to. pumpkin spice lattes be damned, I want the Real Deal.) 

I also have never been to a Thanksgiving football game, though I've watched several on television. I can't stand watching football on television; it's no good unless you're there in the flesh. I lamented not being at the A&M-LSU game until I remembered 1) what befell me after the last Aggie game I went to (hint: sneezes, fevers, all-around misery) & 2) HOUSE OF CARDS, which I have since ceased watching because [everyone is terrible, give me some BATTLESTAR GALACTICA.]

so: Thanksgiving is often just another day. my parents weren't even home for most of the day, off chasing various early Black Friday deals. (as much as they enjoy railing against what Black Friday's become -- ridiculous! tell me, how is it Black FRIDAY if it starts on a Thursday? perhaps it's just fraudulent, comme the BLACK SOX. perhaps that was too far. it's late.) we ate a quick Thanksgiving pineapple, baked in various ways, for lunch. I stayed home & finished some college essays, then went for a walk later in the afternoon, Zinn's A PEOPLE'S HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES in hand.

(I find the first chapter particularly appropriate for this holiday. I hesitate to call it "Genocide Day," as some will -- it's harder to get away with such things if you're not white -- but still.)

reading while walking is not advisable. I walked into a streetlight & I fear it was caught on camera.

note that I have done very little aside from college applications this break, which I hope means that I'll have submitted all of them by tomorrow & thus will have little to worry about for the rest of the year. & the following year. it's not in my hands anymore! presently sustained by excitement for PIZZA FRIENDSGIVING tomorrow.

from the top: coconut macaroons, baked pineapple (lovelier with ice cream, of course) & coconut-stuffed holige. all courtesy of my mother.

chubby banana muffins

I love eating bananas during class -- but I do not love eating mushy bananas during class. They're a mess, and everyone looks at me strangely. As I think I'm the only one who ever eats bananas in the house, having more mushy bananas than we can handle is not an unusual occurrence. My mother usually puts them to use in her (famous!) banana bread (it's crackly and buttery and banana-y and wonderful), but this time, she suggested that I try making these muffins -- because, well, they're hard to mess up. And yet: they're really good.

(Ignore, if you will, the completely out-of-season liners. We bought them a few Christmases ago. Yes, I'm aware it's Halloween.)

chubby banana muffins
adapted from banana muffins ii
makes 36 mini muffins

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp cinnamon
3 large bananas, super brown
3/4 cup white sugar
1 egg
1/3 cup butter, melted
1/2 to 1 cup chocolate chips (optional)

Heat oven to 350 degrees & line a muffin tin with (cute) paper liners.

In a smaller bowl, lift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon. In a larger bowl, mash the three bananas (if they're not easily mashable, they're not brown enough, and your muffins may not turn out as sweet as they'd normally be). Whisk them together with the sugar, egg, and melted butter.

Fold in the flour, adding a little at a time; then, fold in the chocolate chips. As you can see in the photo, I didn't have enough for every muffin; I think we only had one-fifth of a bag left in the cupboard. However, I think even a little chocolate takes these to the next level. (& more chocolate never hurt anyone.)

Spoon batter into muffin pan (fill each dimple 3/4 -- or more) and bake for 15-20 minutes. These harden up a lot while cooling (as anything; so my mother tells me), so take them out sooner rather than later.

The original recipe listed this recipe as 48 mini muffins' worth; I found it to be more like 36. Perhaps I'm just really generous with the batter (I like my muffins to have muffin tops, more often than not) or perhaps not all mini muffin pans are made equal. Regardless, I'd say a serving counts as two muffins. They're tasty little buggers.

consumption report // september 2014

my reading rate & level @ this time of year are usually real lame. surprisingly, that hasn't been the case so far (thank goodness for senioritis kicking in so early.)

notables

[08.23] the god of small things by arundhati roy
would've definitely enjoyed this book more had I not had a constant refrain of "Velutha = Jesus" in my head the entire time. (thanks, literature professor whose book I did not deign to read. am I a pretentious prick? sometimes, yes.) regardless, the prose is gorgeous -- occasionally too gorgeous. I kept waiting for a slip-up in phrasing (just one would've done it for me!) but hélas, there were none to be found. it's one of the better (best) books I've been assigned for school; if only we read more WOC narratives. this appears to be the token one, unless you count THE JOY LUCK CLUB -- which, for whatever reason, people don't.

[08.29] the return by håkan nesser
this book is the reason i know the accent codes for ã, ä, and å. (alt + 0227, 0228, 0229 respectively. you're welcome?) anyway, perhaps I shouldn't have jumped straight into the world of Inspector Van Veeteren with the sole entry in the series that relegates said inspector to a hospital for 200 pages. but having personally removed this book from circulation -- stamping "DISCARDED" inside the front cover, taking a Sharpie to all three barcodes -- I felt a certain responsibility to take it home and love it. I didn't love it at first: it burns much more slowly than anything else I've read, and I left it alone for a really long time. (rare!) ...but towards the end, I realized just how weird and atmospheric and new and different the story was. there is no sense of place. this novel does not need to create a sense of place. the mystery is (as it so often is not) enough.

[09.06] run lola run (1997)
have def waxed -- not poetic (comme Amory Blaine: I'll never be more than a mediocre poet), but some other adjective -- about this film before. I watched it again a few nights ago. it's not only good at one in the morning. it's also good at one in the afternoon. it tries, but it doesn't try too hard. it's GROUNDHOG DAY for those of us with severely limited attention spans. it definitely values style over substance, but, I mean, just ask anyone who's graded my physics labs how I feel about that. also, Lola's hair. also: WAS WILLST DU VON MIR?

[09.21] the secret history by donna tartt
had you asked me how I felt about this novel just after I finished it, I'd have said "four/five" -- you know, if I actually spoke in ratings or whatever; I liked it, but you know, nothing special, and everything went to shit at the end. then, I found myself in the library last Thursday (must digress to mention the children's storytime I've been helping with -- it's the cutest & most rewarding thing in the world) -- anyway, I was browsing a bit, and I realized what I really, really wanted -- more than anything -- was THE SECRET HISTORY. something similar to if not exactly like it. so I rifled through several shelves' worth of books, and I searched the databases (books containing: murder + decadence + intellectualism + college/university students -- such a sucker for the combo) and I asked the librarians, and I was forced to come to the conclusion that there simply isn't anything quite like THE SECRET HISTORY. five/five, or something.

[09.29] mind's eye by håkan nesser
at last: the book I should've read a month ago, Van Veeteren's debut: this is a million times better than THE RETURN, and I really liked THE RETURN, so. again, I'm the worst ever at solving mysteries, so perhaps none of these "NORDIC NOIR" books are as good as I say they are...but MIND'S EYE did keep me reading everywhere -- on the bus, in the hallway, at lunch, while walking home (such that I nearly ran into this old man walking three dogs at once, also reading) -- so there's something to be said for that. (V.V. is a kindred spirit, here.)

it must be (true love)

BORUSSIA DORTMUND: Echte Liebe, true love. can I truly love a team a) that's located nowhere near me (not even close) & b) that I didn't know existed until two years ago?

ANSWER: probably not, at least not yet -- but first, define true love. is it the feeling I got when I first saw the colors: black & yellow, Wiz Khalifa but also the immense satisfaction of a Pilot pen gliding across a legal pad, a vague reminder of both half-finished Nanowrimo projects & pages of physics problems?

maybe it's just that weird human need to be part of something, even if that something's a soccer team a million miles away in a medium-sized city in Germany, where they call soccer Fußball. a soccer team that's only fielding half its roster because the other half is injured, a soccer team that keeps losing to teams it's supposed to beat... a soccer team that's oft confused with the other BVB, the Black Veil Brides.

(no one else can break my heart like you, Dortmund.)

there's a line in headhunters about Diana: she supports QPR because they're awful & they "need" her in order to avoid relegation. I do not think this is a viable reason to support a team, but there's no denying that the feeling of being needed is why people don't suddenly stop supporting teams when they start losing (and the team that was last season a force to be reckoned with is suddenly sitting ninth in the standings.)

(I mean, I ought to support the Houston Dynamo. my favorite color, ninety minutes away from my hometown, MLS solidarity. what's not to love? I'll watch a match before I leave for college; don't let me forget it.)

nach dem spiel ist vor dem spiel

there are days when: it is six a.m. and you are throwing up after a run. it is nine a.m. and you are throwing carrots across your government classroom. it is twelve p.m. and you are hungry because the cafeteria is out of bananas. it is two p.m. and you are sneezing so much that you are asked to stop. it is three p.m. and you are feeling your hip-bones tear apart the entire world. it is four p.m. and you are avoiding responsibility. it is six p.m. and you are avoiding Tylenol.

& suddenly it is another day at one a.m. and you are watching a violently redheaded Franka Potente race around what is presumably Berlin to the greatest techno you have ever heard in the only film you have ever seen that knows exactly how long it needs to be and not even your one-oh-two fever can kill your vibe. RUN LOLA RUN.

today, I came home to find that my mother had baked blueberry muffins in my absence. and not just any blueberry muffins: smitten kitchen's perfect blueberry muffins.

these are, indeed, perfect --

(buttery, blueberry-y, not too sugary; in short, not cupcakes who forgot to put their icing on)

-- a fitting end to a day that involved my fourth lunchtime burrito bowl in a row, a Jo Nesbø novel worth re-reading, and the inauguration of my personal senior-year-birthday-present policy (which is, essentially: everyone gets a book! i've thought long and hard about this. first up is Arthur C. Clarke's RENDEZVOUS WITH RAMA.)

consumption report // mid-august 2014

volunteering almost daily at the local library's done wonders for my reading habits. my shift entails about an hour of actual work (shelving, cleaning, discarding books, the like) followed by two hours of nearly constant reading, interrupted only by the occasional child who needs help finding a stray CLIFFORD book. those go like hotcakes. (what's a hotcake? haven't read LITTLE HOUSE in too long.) I've never seen more than one in the bin at a time, and the library has dozens.

notables

[08.07] nuremberg: infamy on trial by joseph e. persico
found this gem while straightening every row of books in the entire library; that was a great leg workout if nothing else, seeing as I had to do a full squat every time I reached down to the lower shelves. I happened upon several books that I wouldn't have otherwise (a full shelf's worth of Dating Advice for the Modern Woman, anyone?) so I can't say exactly why this book is the only one I chose to check out: my morbid fascination with the horrors of war and especially those perpetrated by Nazism, perhaps. anyway, I assume it's far from the most objective account of the Nuremberg trials, but it makes for p thrilling narrative nonfiction. you might find yourself feeling sympathetic towards the worst kinds of war criminals; it's not your fault.

[08.08] the pillars of the earth (2010)
super regret to say that i never found the time to watch more than one episode of this. TAKE: Friday night: home alone, ostensibly working on college apps. instead: watching pillars, of which I remember only five minutes' worth of two childbirths intercut followed by two deaths intercut. I liked the book. I think I'll come to like this adaptation if I eventually watch more of it, but the first episode wasn't worth [not inviting people over & throwing a very secret party].

[08.11] headhunters by jo nesbø
FULL DISCLAIMER: I read this only because the Film of the Book* holds a special place in my heart. HEADHUNTERS is not notable because it's particularly well-written. I am not so against the first-person narrative as many seem to be, but the main reason I enjoyed this is because I suck at mysteries. if you are of clean and innocent mind, like myself, you will want to skip the scene in which the main character finds himself literally drowning in shit. you will also think the reveal is the cleverest thing you've read all month.

[08.14] skippy dies by paul murray
this book is so very long, and you'll to get to page 300 or so and not remember why you started it or even what was going on in the first few pages. but you will love it for what's happening. it's difficult to explain; I appreciate it immensely on a couple of different levels. ONE: it's a mad cocktail of everything I love to read about: WWI, cosmology, boarding school, teenagers, music, folklore. you name it, SKIPPY DIES has it. TWO: it's tragic. and hilarious.

*FULL DISCLAIMER #2: I only watched the film of the book because Nikolaj Coster-Waldau plays the villain. I am easily swayed to new genres by the likes of Nikolaj Coster-Waldau.