– I was a vegetarian for 6 weeks when I was 19. It was a confusing, misguided time for me. I was dating a young man who didn’t eat meat, and, well … who hasn’t done something stupid for a boy? When he broke up with me, I treated myself to a dinner out: bacon-wrapped…
Today’s guest post is from my friend John Doherty. Rand and I met John last spring in Boston – right before he was about to move to New York. Since then, I’ve been keeping up with his life through his twitter stream and updates to Google Plus. His insights and observations are always interesting, but…
– When I left for Peru, I took a small pack of tissues with me. I’d read that in more rural areas, we might not find toilet paper in public bathrooms. This didn’t really phase me: one time in Italy I’d peed in little more than a hole in the ground. A place not offering…
Note: Since my posts are generally too wordy, I decided to see what happened when I made something a little too photo-y. Enjoy. – One hot summer’s day, seemingly a lifetime ago, when I was in Kansas, we drove and drove. – We drove through a part of the country most people only fly over. We…
Rand once told me that people are happier when they’re given fewer choices. He’d read an article on it. Something about how we still like to have options, but when we’re faced with too many of them, we get overwhelmed. Our instinctual reaction is try to limit our options to only a few, and failing…
Note: This post was shaping up at over 2,000 words, which is just CRAZY PANTS. I think that’s longer than most of my college English homework assignments. As such, I’ve split it into two posts. So you’ll have to wait until tomorrow to see if we made it out of the mine alive (spoiler: we…
“We’re taking you to the Keeper of the Plains,” I was told, and there was little elaboration after that. “Okay,” I said. “And the Keeper of the Plains is …?” “You’ll see.” I must hand it to my friends. They know how to create suspense. It turned out to be a 44-foot-tall statue of a…
My family members do not always understand me. I feel like a foreign exchange student in their homes – I’m most definitely welcome, but damn it, I’m strange. My accent is funny. I don’t eat pasta daily. I don’t have several gallons of sauce sitting in my freezer, in the event that we might have…
I feel sorry for people who have normal friends. I’m sure befriending normal people has its merits. It must be nice to go out to a restaurant without having to apologize to the family next to you for what transpires at your table. And having someone dependable who can pick you up from the airport…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
Available Now!
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