Rand and I talked about going to the Women’s March in D.C. – we rolled the idea around in our heads, but realized that we’d already be in New York that weekend, and attending the march there seemed like enough. He and I were both fighting colds, and I told him that we could…
– I’m a bit of an organizational freak. Some of you, especially those who have spent any amount of time on my blog, may find that hard to believe. I seem to flit from one location to the next, and the narrative of my travels soon becomes convoluted. I dart around like a homing pigeon…
– I’ve never been much of a sucker for flowers. Ultimately they start to wilt, no matter how often you trim the ends. Inevitably they end up in the trash or the compost heap, a mixture of brittle petals and waterlogged stems. Flowers don’t do it for me. But add a dark-eyed boy in the…
– I don’t understand kids today. I’ve tried. But they are nothing like I was at their age. In my younger years, I did not swoon over effeminate beauties like Justin Bieber (we didn’t even have an equivalent in the mid-90s. We settled for a young Brad Pitt and we liked it). I did not…
– I visited Occupy London on an unseasonably warm and sunny day in late October. In a paradox that is no doubt indicative of who I am, I stopped off at St. Paul’s Cathedral, where the Occupy protesters were gathered, before heading off to Spitalfields (the famed shopping district).
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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