For years, my aunt has tried to persuade me to move to California. Her tactic has been repetition of the state’s numerous glittering qualities. “We have the beaches, and then the mountains are just an hour away. An hour! You can go swimming at the beach and then go skiing!” When that fails, mostly…
The Moorten Botanical Garden in Palm Springs is not terribly big. Fortunately, admission reflects this: –
– Visiting Philadelphia during a government shutdown was a strange thing. The National Parks at the heart of the city – Independence Hall and the Benjamin Franklin Museum – were closed, and the surroundings areas looked all but abandoned. Fences were placed around many of the buildings, so you couldn’t even press your nose against…
If you happen to have the chance to visit the Philadelphia Museum of Art (which is wonderful), here is a bit of advice: run up the steps to the museum. – Just like Rocky Balboa did. I know, I know – it’s silly and cliche. Doing so may earn you a few eye rolls from…
– If there was anything I could tell my younger self (besides to maybe consider getting an MRI on your head sometime before the age of 30), it would be this: don’t fall for artistic types. I would finally learned my lesson when I was 20 or so. No more musicians, no more painters. Even…
The other day I was jogging. Through a cemetery. – It was awful. The jogging, I mean. The cemetery was lovely. I find them kind of peaceful. I suppose my mom instilled that in me, which is weird, because she’s reared me to be terrified of so many other things (like thong underwear and undercooked…
– The thing that I love about humanity, besides Thai food and the tendency to dress our young up as animals, is our commitment to the arts. That as a species, as soon as our basic needs are met (and even if they aren’t) we all hellbent on writing and composing and painting and sculpting…
– I have a persistent and haunting memory from my childhood. I must have been 8 or 9 years old, and I was at the county fair in Florida. County fairs in the south are a big deal: they’re fun but also sort of creepy and disturbing. The structures are temporary, there’s extension cords everywhere,…
I’m starting to realize I visit a lot of old prisons. Well, maybe not a lot, but certainly more than the average person. Enough to where I can roam around one and find myself thinking something like, “This old prison reminds me of that other old prison!” Can I tell you something? When you realize…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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