– There are mornings when I wake up, and haven’t the foggiest idea of where I am. This is neither as alarming or as glamorous as it sounds. It’s usually in a hotel room somewhere. And more often than not, Rand is with me, so I can’t complain. Travel enough, and I suppose it’s a…
Folks, I have many, many, many, many flaws. If it’s okay with you, I’d rather skip the details and just leave it at that. I’m a decent human being. I’m not a great human being. But Spain made me a slightly worse one. And I’m kind of okay with that. Despite my many flaws (see…
– I hate making split decisions. They send me into a panic. “Chocolate or vanilla?” “GAH! I DON’T KNOW! HEMAGLOBIN!” or “Paper or plastic?” “AUGGGGGHHHHH! PUT IT ALL IN A BURLAP SACK.”
– I don’t profess to know very much about anything, desserts and the career of Jeff Goldblum excluded (what? I have my passions). Other than being an authority on these two very important topics, I consider myself a rather middling resource. And yet, time and again, I get emails in my inbox from new bloggers…
Seattle’s weather has been crazier than usual lately. In the span of an hour, I’ve seen every form of precipitation: drizzle, sleet, snow, hail, and then, for good measure, blue skies. I’m not quite sure what’s going on, but it just might be the end of the world (no one warned me that the end…
Folks, I have some sad news. This will be my third and final post about Gaudi’s architectural feats in Barcelona. (In case you missed it, here’s Part One on La Pedrera and Part Two on Casa Batllo.) I know, I know. You’re devastated, aren’t you? I can tell by the way you’re joyfully skipping around…
I have no problem with the notion that Jesus lives. Whether you are referring to your passion for your lord and savior, or simply taking note of a Hispanic man named Jesus who happens to have a zest for life, I find this statement to be pretty innocuous. However, I do think it’s kind of weird…
– Remember Fraggle Rock? I positively loved that show (I’d really like to see a “Where Are They Now?” feature on the Fraggles. I hope Wembly finally got into rehab). The beginning always scared me, though. Something about the baseline, and the dingy house, and the tiny mouse hole into which the Fraggles ran gave…
– I never really “got” architecture. I blame Mike Brady. Supposedly an expert in the field of home design, he squeezed six children into two bedrooms. He was no architect. He was a sadist. And – hello – is it really a good idea to cram that many biologically-unrelated children into two rooms far at…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
Paperback Available March 11th
Also available in hardcover, e-book, and audiobook from these booksellers:
