– There are days when I feel far older than my 31 years (Wait, am I 31? What year is it …? No, I’m still 31. Dear god. Losing track of my age is not a problem I used to have). When something happens that makes me realize that I have been on the planet…
My darling husband has a slightly inflated impression of my foreign language abilities. A haggling session in Cuzco left him believing that my Spanish was far better than it actually is (It’s not that great. I am, however, an awesome haggler). I allow it, of course. We all believe slight exaggerations about our loved ones.…
– I’m not big on souvenirs. At least, not in the traditional sense. Rand and I are on the road a lot, and if I purchased every delightfully tasteless memento I encountered, we’d long ago have been buried under a pile of snowglobes, novelty beer bottle openers, and tiny resin sculptures of bears in swimming trunks.…
This is Anton. – Anton’s life is miserable.
My friend Katie is coming to visit. By the time this post goes live, she’ll be here. I have been nervously anticipating her visit, in the same way I do all encounters with friends from my childhood. Katie and I have known eachother since the fifth grade. For more than two decades, she’s had some…
– I intended to hang on to the elephant for longer. Rand bought him for me on a rainy afternoon at a toy store in Portland. He was sitting in clear bin in the window, with a zoofull of other animals. A plastic menagerie.
– We are at a get-together with friends. Let’s say a birthday party for … whoever. It doesn’t matter, really – it’s happened so many times that it could be any event. We’re having fun, but as the night trickles on, I’ll see him check his watch nervously, and then his phone. He might answer…
Dear PR People (at least, I assume it’s PR people, and not random folks who are just really excited about spring break and luggage) who have been attacking my inbox with an onslaught of incredibly dry, often misspelled press releases; Please stop. You are wasting your time. I have never done more than occasionally skim…
Southern Oregon is idyllic. – It’s also the site of one of the most horrific things I’ve ever seen in my entire life (note: on the grand scale of things, this isn’t saying much. My life is a cakewalk, minus the walk).
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
Paperback Available March 11th
Also available in hardcover, e-book, and audiobook from these booksellers:
