– We spent a week in Philadelphia, and halfway through our trip someone asked me what I thought of it. We were in a neighborhood bar, dark and cozy, the breed of which sadly does not exist in my town. Everyone knew everyone by name, and no one seemed to give a damn about tabs…
I suspect, if I didn’t have Rand to constantly remind me, I would easily forget how ridiculously, stupidly fortunate I am, and how charmed our lives are. He makes me aware of it all of the time. Not in a lecturing way, but in a genuinely grateful, almost surprised way. “Holy crap,” he will say,…
– Do you ever have those moments where you pull something off (a meal, an event, a project), and it comes together so beautifully, and was almost effortless, that you are tempted to think, “This is my calling. This is what I was put on this earth to do”? I totally haven’t, unless you count…
I know him. I know everything about him, really.
Some days, you go for a walk. –
We are standing in a small courtyard in Munich, when I start acting like my mother, and my brother starts acting exactly like himself. Which, in this instance, means that he’s taken his son’s hand and is pretending to punch things. He even makes the appropriate “Pssht! Pssht!” punching noises. And then -god help me…
Rand has this wonderful laugh that is as contagious as a cold through a kindergarten class. Every now and then, it will push him to the point of no return, and he’ll end up in a sort of shaking, convulsive, soundless laughter with tears in his eyes. Our friends, when they see it, look delightfully…
I’ve been spending too much time doodling. And appreciating the work of Demetri Martin. Here’s what I made. –
Sometimes I will grab my husband, usually by the head, mash up his cheeks in my hands and say, “Your face. Your STUPID face. I LOVE YOUR FACE. I’m … I’m gonna eat your face because I LOVE IT SO MUCH.” I assume that all couples who have been together for more than a decade…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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