– If there was anything I could tell my younger self (besides to maybe consider getting an MRI on your head sometime before the age of 30), it would be this: don’t fall for artistic types. I would finally learned my lesson when I was 20 or so. No more musicians, no more painters. Even…
The other day I was jogging. Through a cemetery. – It was awful. The jogging, I mean. The cemetery was lovely. I find them kind of peaceful. I suppose my mom instilled that in me, which is weird, because she’s reared me to be terrified of so many other things (like thong underwear and undercooked…
– The thing that I love about humanity, besides Thai food and the tendency to dress our young up as animals, is our commitment to the arts. That as a species, as soon as our basic needs are met (and even if they aren’t) we all hellbent on writing and composing and painting and sculpting…
– I have a persistent and haunting memory from my childhood. I must have been 8 or 9 years old, and I was at the county fair in Florida. County fairs in the south are a big deal: they’re fun but also sort of creepy and disturbing. The structures are temporary, there’s extension cords everywhere,…
– I have a foggy recollection from many, many years ago. It was back when I was working with Rand (yeah … that happened), and we went to get lunch at a convenience store. God, there are so many problems with that last sentence, but the important take-away is this: I once voluntarily ate a convenience store…
I will probably forget the name of the brunch place we went to in Marais. I’ve forgotten it three times already, each and every time you told it to me, until you finally emailed me with the message “Don’t lose me.” – You meant the restaurant name, of course, but somehow I read it as…
I’m taking a brief reprieve from my tales of Paris to tell you about a French Bakery … in Vancouver. I’ll get back to the city of light tomorrow. – I am standing on a street corner in a dodgy part of Vancouver, British Columbia, on the verge of a hunger-induced meltdown. I’m blaming Oli.…
Paris is such a lovely city, with so much to see, that it’s easy to overlook the little things. Which is a shame, because there’s beauty in the details (ignore whoever tells you otherwise). While walking, we passed building after building, a few which had rather incredible decorations on their doors. Check them out: –
– Paris, like most European cities, is a barren wasteland on a Sunday. The shops are all closed, the pastisseries boarded up, the streets empty. You can walk for hours and not find anything open – not even a grocery store at which you could possibly buy a roll of crackers to soothe your growling…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
Available Now!
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