I got an email the other day from someone who was about to have brain surgery. This, in and of itself, isn’t anything new – since writing about my own surgery, I get a couple of emails a week from people who are in similar (or, as is often the case, far scarier) situations. But…
After the delightful success of my email conversations with Ted (spoiler: we’re now totally besties, and talking about gelato), and all the fun I had last time I replied to PR pitches and the like, I decided to respond to a few more emails that I probably shouldn’t have. – These are actual emails (or…
There has been a lot of talk lately about Rand’s facial hair. And not just by me. Other folks have been blogging about it, too. He started growing it out after Thanksgiving, just to see what it would look like. And it looked pretty much the same as it always did – a bit shaggier…
If you live the northwest, you have to convince yourself of a lot of things. Like that you don’t need sunshine, or Vitamin D. That it’s perfectly reasonable to live in a city where it rains nine and half months out of the year. You have to tell yourself that it’s completely normal to…
– Someone recently told me that I need to start “lifestyle blogging” instead of just travel blogging, which sort of confused me, because my everyday life isn’t necessarily something you’d want to emulate. Most days, I’m locked in a battle with myself about whether several cookies and a glass of milk are as nutritionally viable…
Rand is growing out his beard. – I know, I know. This is supposed to be a travel blog, right? And for the most part, my husband’s facial hair plays very little role in our travel, much less yours. Goodness, what if it did, though. That would be one crazy-ass superpower, would it not? Me:…
I’ve been hesitating to write this post. I don’t want to throw gasoline on a fire, and if all of this is some sort of weird or sick hoax, I don’t want people to know that it got to me. But I’m angry, and creeped out, and I figure that if I write about…
– Dear Rand, By now, you have probably noticed that the milk in the fridge has been dyed pink. You are probably wondering why I did this. My motivation for that act (and so many countless others) is simple: I wanted to mess with you, dearest. Because you had it coming. Especially after what happened…
Despite a few rather notable exceptions, I’ve found I’m not a big crier. I have nothing against it, mind you. I think tears are rather good for your skin, and they can be rather poetic and lovely and necessary, like when Emma Thompson totally loses it at the end of Sense and Sensibility. – It’s…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
Available Now!
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