The question, after the election of Trump and his appointment of White Supremacists who are gleefully endorsed by the KKK is, simply, Now what? This is a difficult question to answer if you’re an artist (and I use the term very, very loosely, and sometimes precede it with “sandwich,” so that it applies to me).…
This is a political post. If you are about to tell me that you don’t read my blog to hear my thoughts on politics, then … well, honestly, I’ll find that sort of confusing. This blog has always been more of a reflection of myself and my life than a travel blog, anyway. This blog…
I’ve learned a funny thing about books. Even when I think I’m done with one, I’m not. This is true, I’ve found, of both the books I’ve read and the book I’ve written. A paragraph will haunt me. I’ll go back and dissect every word and comma, trying to understand the alchemy behind them, if there is…
On Monday, I wrote about an incident that happened to me on a recent international flight. A passenger became verbally abusive and physically intimidating because I reclined my seat. It terrified me, and the flight crew moved us, after the guy made it clear that if I reclined my seat again he would not stop tormenting…
It’s a little past six a.m. here in Seattle, but I’ve been up for more than three hours, trying to sleep, but inadvertently writing this post in my head. We returned from Scotland yesterday, connecting through London to Seattle – the last leg of the trip now so familiar to us, I know the…
Dear Spain, I like you. I truly do. You’re like Italy, but less mafioso-y. I begrudgingly appreciate how entire cities will shut down so that people can take naps. It’s absolute bullshit, and really annoying for tourists, but y’all are like, “FUCK IT! It’s 1pm. Let’s eat paella for 3 hours.” It’s hard not to…
I have a confession. My husband, Rand, is more fashionable than me. This is contrary to everything that movies and television have taught me, where the female sex is supposed to be stylish, and men can run around looking like they’re in the middle of washing their car. Behold. But that’s not the case with…
Yesterday, I left the house without kissing him goodbye. I thought I might wake him if I did that, and I wanted him to sleep, and to delay the moment when he got up and saw the news and wondered what the hell was wrong with us and our country and laws. So…
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, that was well-trodden and safer and less likely to be the stomping ground of rabid raccoons. Sometimes I think Robert Frost was an idiot. And then I realize that no, it’s just people misinterpreting his words. His most famous poem…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
Available Now!
In Hardback, e-book, and audiobook from these booksellers:
