I can’t actually believe I had to write this post. I think that what I’m about to say falls firmly within the bounds of obvious human decency and etiquette. I feel that it’s something everyone one should already know – like how we shouldn’t shake babies nor pick our noses while performing surgery on someone.…
– I could have easily turned this post into a Dick Move!, but that’s pretty much a given when the TSA is involved. It seems there’s no point in even complaining about them any more. Though they supposedly serve the people, they’re not accountable to the people. It puts them on par with the IRS,…
Okay, first, a few disclaimers: my friend Christine suggested we visit a grocery store called Stew Leonard’s while we were in New York. Christine is all kinds of lovely, and I trust her judgment completely (check out some of her brilliance). Sadly, we didn’t have the sort of visit I (nor Christine, I suspect) would…
Dude, I’m know this is a little late, and that everyone has probably already said this before, but seriously: DICK MOVE, Underwear Bomber. Besides the obvious reasons (duh, killing thousands of people and being a fanatic asshole is LAME), you also made it seriously inconvenient to fly back to the states. Which I realize isn’t…
Oh, shit. I’m not perfect, right? I’ve never pretended otherwise. Next week I’m devoting an entire post to WTF was going on with my hair in Scotland. I can’t even give the semblance of normality for one-tenth of a second. I am a tragically flawed and neurotic person, and I’ve been lucky enough in life…
I’m am licking some wounds. Not literally, of course. Though I sometimes bite the sides of my fingers. But my feelings have been hurt. I’ve been slighted by a few people in the “travel blogging industry.” I suppose it’s not a big deal, and I suppose it shouldn’t matter. Perhaps the funniest thing of all…
One the Monday before Thanksgiving, I was upgraded to first class for my Alaska Airlines flight down to San Diego. I’ve just reached MVP status on Alaska, and it’s the first time I’ve had status on any airline, so up until now, first class has been pretty much a pipe dream for me. I didn’t even know…
I really wanted to write a Dick Move! post about the crazy gal we encountered in NYC’s Meat-Packing District, but in the end I just wanted to toss a sweater over her shoulders, tell her that she was better than this, and threaten to call her mother. Rand and I were wandering around the west…
Sigh. So, as you might remember from yesterday’s post (because I not only pretend I have readers – I pretend I have loyal ones), we stayed at the Grims Grenka hotel in Oslo. Or, as I like to call it, Torvald’s House of Design and Mystery. While we were there, we experienced a Dick Move,…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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