April 1st – SoDo – Getting off on the wrong bus stop leaves me walking half a mile through working train tracks in winklepickers like some darkwave music video outtake. Mocking me, the smell of Southern fried chicken fills the otherwise light air. I stuck my head in a fancy moonshine still. Seriously.
April 2nd – Downtown – Foot pain that I’ve been experiencing for a week leaves me at home with a propped up puffy, tumid foot. I wear a musky perfume and slow roast a Jamaican jerk chicken feeling sorry for myself.
April 3rd – Downtown – As slightly swollen foot hits pavement to run lackluster errands, I’m hit hard with the springtime smell of early blooming magnolias – citrusy florals. A few blocks down at a bus stop, I realize that I’m not the only one intoxicated by the magnolias as I see a man shoving their petals up his nose in frantic delight.
April 4th – Belltown – Sitting in a salon chair with a gritty paste in my hair, I listen to a mind-boggling daft conversation that I wish I never heard. My brain never lets cracked conversations go. It’s like a curse. The smell of bleach and fancy Italian hair products scented with rose geranium. I arrive home soaked. In toto.
April 5th – Belltown – Opening night. National outsider treasure Dina Martina performs her little ditties in a cramped, stuffy club that smells of mary j and IPAs. Dan Savage and is finely coiffed husband are there. I’m there with with my G&Ts. For about five years I’ve never clacked these red shoes together to go home. This is home. Why did Dorothy ever want to go back to Kansas?
April 6th – North Seattle – I’ve always said that there are only two types of foods in this world worth eating – aphrodisiacs and hangover cures. I go for the 2nd category today. Steamy pho. The smells of Thai basil and jalepeños soothe. I’m certain this giant bowl of broth has cured me. Warm rain awakens the aroma of oil on pavement. Toni Braxton muzak plays…
April 7th – Downtown – Spring cleaning was postponed due to Puffy Foot. OK, due to my laziness. Hours later, my house would make a 1950’s suburban housewife green with envy. And it smells like parsley cleaner which I highly recommend.
April 8th – Downtown – My consort bought scented poopie bags. I will never smell the scent of faux raspberry the same way ever again.
April 9th – Downtown – Smells of people both clean and unbathed herald me as I walk through the revolving door of the glorious antheneum. After making my selections, I take a seat next to a man that just so happens to be drinking a full-size bottle screw top of blended red wine as if it were a 16 oz bottle of Diet Pepsi. Completely existing.
April 10th – Downtown – As I take the dogs out, it smells like a black licorice factory has erupted an aroma of waxy candies. But, as far as I know we do not have a black licorice factory in these here parts.
April 11th – Chinatown – Swinging open the rickety door, I get an overwhelming smack in the face of metallic, earthy pig’s blood. Fish heads. Pomelo. Basil. Cilantro. It’s an odoriferous vortex. I get a free carambola because I’m “glamorous”.
April 12th – Capitol Hill – Flower market dotted with scentless blue lotus. Rain falls heavily from the sky hitting my Tim Burton umbrella.
April 13th – Capitol Hill – When the hands hit midnight, they flock to the stage for Team Dresch bringing with them the smells of acrid underboob sweat and overflowing pale ales. I’m surprised I still remember so many of the lyrics from the sluggish cassettes of my early teen years…
April 14th – Little Saigon – Fiery beetle juice essence may be exotic as it sounds.
April 15th – Downtown – A thick, suffocating air of sadness and a quick walk down a steep hill for chocolate truffles and merlot. Somberly, I sit on the La Chaise inhaling the rich aroma of German chocolates before I let them languidly melt on my tongue.
April 16th – Downtown – I spilled Bulgarian rose oil on the counter. Don’t cry over spilled Damask rose. I hope the granite enjoyed getting all lovey-dovey with this alluring aroma.
April 17th – Downtown – Booming steelpans. Seattle’s obligatory skunky weed vapor escaping the pannist’s lungs. Smudged mascara and raccoon eyes.
April 18th – Downtown – Rain on slippery streets. Ennui. Greasy alluvium oozes down the grates. You know the smell.
April 19th – Downtown- Despite the gray skies and vegetable crisper rain, everything smells enthusiastically green. Technicolor new buds strike against an aphotic sky.
April 20th – Renton – I thought that nothing could bring me to Renton. I was wrong. The smell of sizzling carne asade on a grill is one powerful thing (as is a cheap eye exam when you don’t have vision insurance).
April 21st – Pike Place Market – Cool, misty rain laminates my skin as I drag my hulking wheeled cart behind me through congeries of Texan tourists. The smell of their commodious hairspray follows me through the cobblestone street as it eventually mingles with empanandas and the obligatory skunky weed.
April 22nd – Waterfront – Sunshine conspires with a chilly wind making what should be a pleasant walk less than an enjoyable. Trails of cigarette smoke follow the man in faded tie-dye that always stops to tell me how much he likes my hair. On the way home carrying bottles of magical elixirs from one of the West Coast’s oldest herbal apothecaries, I get a clout of nag champa to the ‘ole sniffer.
April 23rd – Downtown – Ugh, horse shit. Now the cops are fighting stink with stink. This is how I imagine it smelled here during the Gold Rush. An industrious clambake of runaways from the Midwest, jezebels and drunks being corralled by lawmen on stallions.
April 24th – Capitol Hill – Perfect day. Coffee and chocolate. Snobby salts. Rose geranium cocktails. Waitress wearing too much Egyptian Musk. Hipsters siesta on the idle playing field. Fine linens from across the pond. Brussels Griffon puppy spotted on the walk home.
April 25th – Capitol Hill – Walking up the hill to a mini dinner soiree on a perfect, pleasant evening, I get a whiff of hedges that smell like honey. Two pixies in gingham dresses hold hands. Briskly walking down the hill on a crisp night, I get a whiff of leather bars, bubbly cider and cigarette smoke. Two polar bears in vests hold hands. I love this city.
April 26th – Downtown – The aroma of a jackfruit is shocking. It requires a Herculean explanation and I’m too unversed to give it. My best guess is to say it’s a blend of ABC Juicy Fruit bubblegum, boiling onions and curdled milk/neonate vomit. My house now reeks of it so badly that every window is now open to eject this grody smell into the city streets. But, it’s comfortable here and won’t budge.
April 27th – Georgetown – Dingy old brewery now turned antique warehouse, watch your step. The smells of dust (both domestic and foreign) tangles with dank old factory basement. Dim lights barely illuminate the delicate patterns on antique silk kimonos. “Antique” Mudhoney plays on speakers above a wavering tansu.
April 28th – International District – Steam hits my lips as I inhale the smell of sliced scallions and boiled crustaceans. Stacked carts roll by. Slightly floral notes of pur-eh under the nose. On the way to the market, I smell freshly cut grass for the first time this year.
April 29th – Downtown – I often take for granted what a clean city Seattle is. Today there is a smell of “freshness” like mountain air mixing with city streets. Salt water breeze.
April 30th – Downtown – Disappointingly cool and dreary for most of the day. Buttery, flaky French bakeries and strong black coffee. A day of jitters and Sleater-Kinney.