A few weeks back Rand and I were having a conversation with our friend Rob, who happens to be from England. The exchange went something like this: Rob: Bob’s your uncle! Codswallup! Bangers and mash! BLAH BLAH BLAH HOGWARTS. Me: I have no idea what you’re talking about. Speak American, please. Rob: Ahem … Did…
I remember the day Kurt Cobain died. I was about to head to drama practice, wearing green sailor shorts, a black shirt (which still resides in my closet, despite being waaaay too small. I can’t bear to throw it away), and a little green vest. Kurt Loder broke the news on MTv. I distinctly remember thinking: Christine…
I just wrote that it was 2007 in the title of this post. I changed it, but seriously, WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? I do this all the time. Also, if someone wants to discuss how it isn’t really mid-August, and this is just some weird conspiracy, I would be totally okay with that. I…
Dear Seattle Center; Okay, I admit it: I’m officially worried about you. This post was going to be another Dick Move!, but when I started to consider things a little more, I switched gears from “blinded by rage” to “concerned about your well-being.” Seriously, we need to talk. Have you completely given up? Because it’s…
Note: My legal team has advised me to put a disclaimer at the beginning of this blog post, so here it is – this entry is in no way an admission of guilt, nor can it be admissible in court, because, um … it’s heresy or something. No, that’s not it. Oh, yeah, I remember…
Upon hearing about the Jet Blue fiasco of this week, I instantly began frothing at the mouth, as I usually do when travel-related Dick Moves! happen, and I have fodder for my blog. I’ve since wiped away the foam from my chin, but have maintained a healthy state of righteous indignation. Dick Move, Jet Blue…
While Rand was once again showing off his public speaking skills (and meting out crazy doses of charm) I decided to roam around the city a bit. The only problem? Everything in L.A. is miles from everything else, nothing is within walking distance, and I didn’t feel like driving. Los Angeles is a terribly walking…
Things never turn out quite how you imagine them. I try to remember this whenever I find myself setting up expectations. Whether it’s a new trip, or an event, or meeting a new person, I’ve always created some sort of script in my head for how things will play out. Often, it’s a recipe for…
Dude, it’s been a week. I’m been running around and fighting off a cold simultaneously, and after a few days, I knew something was bound to give. So when I woke up this morning with a wicked sore throat and no earthly clue what day it was (no, really), I wasn’t really that shocked. Except…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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