Before I tell you about the Deutsches Museum, I need to tell you about one of my greatest fears. I am terrified that one day, I will be either 1.) abducted by aliens or 2.) frozen in some sort of cryogenic state and thawed out thousands of years in the future. This is not the…
– The English Garden (or Englischer Garten, for those of you who insist on showing off the B you earned in high school German class) is a massive public park located near downtown Munich.
– It’s not easy being Portland. Staying on the cutting edge of weird, on the forefront of WTF, can only be exhausting. The city is constantly inventing, perfecting, and growing tired of things that won’t reach the rest of us until months or even years later. They are the connoisseurs of pastimes we don’t yet know exist.
For years, The British Museum in London was like a book I’ve cracked open a dozen times, but was never able to get passed the first chapter. I knew its beginning pages almost by heart. The crowds in front of the Rosetta Stone are mentioned in the dedication. This little one-eyed bird made an appearance in…
– I hate making split decisions. They send me into a panic. “Chocolate or vanilla?” “GAH! I DON’T KNOW! HEMAGLOBIN!” or “Paper or plastic?” “AUGGGGGHHHHH! PUT IT ALL IN A BURLAP SACK.”
Folks, I have some sad news. This will be my third and final post about Gaudi’s architectural feats in Barcelona. (In case you missed it, here’s Part One on La Pedrera and Part Two on Casa Batllo.) I know, I know. You’re devastated, aren’t you? I can tell by the way you’re joyfully skipping around…
– Remember Fraggle Rock? I positively loved that show (I’d really like to see a “Where Are They Now?” feature on the Fraggles. I hope Wembly finally got into rehab). The beginning always scared me, though. Something about the baseline, and the dingy house, and the tiny mouse hole into which the Fraggles ran gave…
– I never really “got” architecture. I blame Mike Brady. Supposedly an expert in the field of home design, he squeezed six children into two bedrooms. He was no architect. He was a sadist. And – hello – is it really a good idea to cram that many biologically-unrelated children into two rooms far at…
– I am occasionally faced with a temptation that I, fortunately, have yet to act upon. My husband delicately describes it as “socially unfeasible.” I simply think it’s madness. Delicious, delicious madness. The temptation is this: I want to eat food that doesn’t belong to me. Now, before you start telling me that everyone feels…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
Available Now!
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