Paco Roig Bakery, Mercat Central, Valencia: “I love you.” “Awww, well, I lo– wait … are you talking to the croissant?” “… Yes.”
My muscles hurt. This is only slightly unexpected. I have been known, on occasion, to go for a run, even if it might be in pursuit of an ice cream truck. But lately, I’ve been running, doing the occasional push-up, and, perhaps most shockingly of all, I’ve been eating with a more discerning eye. This…
I complain about the inclement nature of Seattle in March, but I didn’t think twice when we arrived in Bavaria and found that there was still snow on the ground. One morning, when I felt the madness that only jet lag can bring, and found myself bouncing around our hotel room like a hummingbird on…
A few weeks ago, I wrote about how my brother, mom, and I all got 23andMe kits for Christmas. Today, I wanted to discuss the results of what happened after I spit into a vial and mailed off. But first, I wanted to thank all of you who felt it was necessary to inform me of…
We went to Salzburg for the afternoon, again at Jeff’s suggestion (for a guy who hates bedazzlers, he knows what’s up). It was the weekend and everything was closed, so we went for a walk, which mostly consisted of me following my husband as he climbed up hills. It’s as though he has still failed…
“You should try to get a photo of your dad smiling,” my friend Kurtis suggested to me before my last trip to Germany. “That’s near impossible,” I told him. And though I was well aware of this fact myself, I still attempted to do it. We all have our Sisyphean tasks. Wile E. Coyote attempts…
I don’t think Jeff and Amanda knew what to make of me at first. Rand had met Jeff a few years prior when he was having technical issues with his personal site, and Jeff jumped in to help. I didn’t know him, but when I saw the panic that he had erased from my husband brow,…
Last week, I went for a run to the park near our home. And by “run” I mean jog. And by “jog” I mean walking in sort of bouncy way that, if viewed at a much higher speed, would suggest the act of physical exercise. All while wheezing like an asthmatic Darth Vader. Ahem.
You said you wanted to see the desert. I can’t remember where you got the idea, but once you had it, that was it. It’s happened plenty of times before – you become singularly focused, you get a particular look on your face, and the only thing left to do is follow you.
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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