I am dying to tell you folks of all the magic that London has to offer (Sticky toffee pudding! Men who call you “Love”! Sticky toffee pudding! The best subway system EVER! Sticky toffee pudding! Bubble skirts that hide the huge thighs you’ve developed from eating too much … Sticky toffee pudding!) but I’d be doing…
I can appreciate modern art. I won’t stand in front of a painting and discuss, seemingly to no end, the different elements of a painting, its composition, or what I thought the artist intended. But I will, on occassion, turn to my husband and say, “I like that.” And, often, he will reply with, “Me…
The Guggenheim and the Cooper-Hewitt Design Museum on New York’s Upper East Side don’t seem to get as much love as other big players in NYC, like the Met and the MOMA. They also don’t have snazzy nicknames (I suspect these two observations are related). Rand and I tried coming up with some, but the…
The day that started with my trip to Roosevelt Island continued to be a good one. In fact, it might have been one of the best days I’ve spent in NYC in a long, long time. After all, when one day is so charmed that it spans TWO whole blog posts, well … you know…
I have a bit of a love/hate relationship going on with New York. There are times when I truly believe (and could never be convinced otherwise) that it is the greatest city in the world, and everything beyond Manhattan is just one long suburb. Other times, when the girl at the Zabar’s breakfast counter forgets…
and filing bankruptcy isn’t one of them! YUK YUK YUK! Err … sorry. Clearly the promise I made on Monday is getting to me, and I’m already starting to crack under pressure. And really, I shouldn’t be so hard on Norway for being so obscenely expensive. Because even though food and shopping are completely out…
Please excuse me if I am a bit more frugal than normal for the next few weeks. If I start frantically clipping coupons and hoarding pennies, do not be surprised. If I pass out, please get me a cookie, as it means I have sold too much plasma. It’s all Norway’s fault. While we were…
— Note: I wrote this post last week, but like a fool, didn’t have access to the photos until after I got home. Sorry for any confusion. — At the time of writing this, I’m in Manhattan, sitting in what might be one of the scarier hotels my husband and I have had the pleasure…
It’s my firm belief that there’s a gene that determines whether or not you like to bargain shop. I happen to have it. My husband does not. To me, there is no greater delight than digging through a bin marked “IRREGULARS NOW 75% OFF”. For Rand, he might as well be digging in a dumpster.…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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