It is a hot night in Milan. It reminds me of when I was in Cambodia. The next day I will look it up and find that it was, in fact, just as hot. Temperatures in the high nineties, the humidity hovering around 80%, nary a breeze to disturb the swarms of mosquitoes. On that night, the…
My alarm clock, I am sad to report, does not respond to screaming. My husband already apparently knew this. I was a little surprised by it. For those of you who were unaware, let me state it for posterity: you cannot stop the passage of time by yelling at clocks, or calendars, or even people. Time will continue…
Milan doesn’t really feel like Italy. It lacks the craziness of the south, the noise and chaos that flows through my veins and feels like home. But it is lovely nonetheless. Here is the Duomo in the sunlight.
Hi! Remember me? I’ve been away for a while. The last two weeks have been absolute madness. Here’s just some of the things we did:
Dear Games of Thrones Obsessed Friend, You know I love you, right? And that I always have? Well, maybe not always. To be honest, when we first met, I sort of found you annoying. But over time, you’ve become someone who I’ve grown to love and tolerate. Someone with whom I can be honest.…
Exactly three years ago, I had brain surgery for the first and only time. Last week, my friend Chad had his fourth brain surgery. We started writing to one another during that strange, pivotal summer three years ago. I was still groggy from the procedure and ravenous from the steroids I was on. Chad had had…
Because sometimes words don’t cut it and you just want to run around, eating rainbow colored cupcakes while crying and calling everyone you know because OMG LOVE.
A few weeks ago, I wrote a post addressed to Nestlé about Raisinets. I never directly contacted the company about their crimes against candy. I simply blogged about it, screaming into the ether of the internet like any good lunatic would do. I did not expect Nestlé to actually see my letter. I certainly did not…
When I’m not complaining about things that I have voluntarily brought upon myself, or tormenting my husband, I’m a travel writer. Since my beloved refuses to check luggage, a large portion of my time on the road is spent washing my underwear in the hotel sink and sniffing my shirts to see if they can be worn “just…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
Available Now!
In Hardback, e-book, and audiobook from these booksellers:
