I know it’s not *technically* Wednesday, but yesterday was Leap Day, so that threw me off schedule. Plus, Davy Jones died, so I spent most of the afternoon listening to “Daydream Believer” and feeling heartbroken. So instead, I bring you WTF Wednesday … on Thursday. My friend Mike’s birthday was this week, and Rand and…
– “There is never enough time,” Rand is fond of telling me, and I nod in agreement. It might as well be our mantra. I didn’t always feel this way. When I met my husband I was bored and lonely and every day seemed to stretch on forever. It was excruciating. And then he arrived…
I used to think that my father’s pug was clinically insane. Then I decided that I was being culturally insensitive. –
– 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…
– People are constantly marveling at my sense of sense of smell, which I find rather amusing. I tap my large and glorious nose, smile, and say, “What, you think this thing is just for show?” And while my memory is fading a bit on precisely how we ended up at Bubo, a high end…
Rand and I are heading to Portland soon. We haven’t been there since the end of last summer, when we stopped for a night on our way down to Ashland. I’m thrilled to be going back. I love Portland. It’s this wonderful combination of beauty and grit, of art and industry. And perhaps nothing captures…
Cram some plutonium into your flux capacitators, kids, because today’s WTF Wednesday is going to require some serious time travel. (But please, don’t steal said plutonium and get yourself shot in the process, leaving your youthful friend Marty to hop into your time machine, consequently causing a whole bunch mischief that leads him to make…
I like to describe my brother as a triple threat: he’s an actor. And an asshole. And he’s my brother. That counts as three things, right? Oh, and occasionally he takes photos of things. Which you’d think would make him a quadruple threat. But really, most of his pictures just reinforce the fact that he’s…
The Scene: San Francisco, on a chilly night. The Characters: Geraldine, who is totally awesome. Rand, who is usually awesome but last night left his dirty laundry in a pile on the bedroom floor, which is so not cool. Act I: Geraldine and Rand are walking down a street in San Francisco. It…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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