I’m getting a little too comfortable with San Francisco. We go so often – probably a half-dozen times a year or so, that I’ve started feeling like I take it for granted. That city has an astounding amount of beauty and quirkiness (and just plain weirdness) to offer, but I’ve grown so used to it,…
I feel sorry for people who have normal friends. I’m sure befriending normal people has its merits. It must be nice to go out to a restaurant without having to apologize to the family next to you for what transpires at your table. And having someone dependable who can pick you up from the airport…
If my last voyage out to New York was the trip of cupcakes, then my most recent trip to San Francisco was the jaunt of ice cream. Because in the few days that I spent there, I ate a lot of it. I can process dairy far better than the next gal (particularly if the…
A totally random note from Geraldine: This is the 500th post to appear on my blog. Holy cats. There are few things I’ve done 500 times, folks. I won’t exactly go into WHAT, but there are few things – let’s just leave it at that. Thank you to everyone who helped me get to this milestone…
I’ve often said that the greatest trick San Francisco ever pulled was convincing the world it was part of California. The city by the bay isn’t terribly sunny or warm. A chilly wind barrels down its streets, and as you clutch your coat tightly to you IN THE MIDDLE OF AUGUST, you contemplate moving someplace…
The Blue Bottle Cafe in San Francisco, California, is what happens when you combine a coffee shop with a science experiment. Coffee is served in beakers; the metal stools that line one edge of the bar are identical to the ones in my seventh grade biology class (I may have started having flashbacks of my…
It’s time for WTF Wednesday, a semi-regular feature where I ramble on about downright crazy things I’ve encountered while traveling. – I am going to make a statement which will date me far beyond my 30 years, and one for which I will ask my younger readers (should they not presently be napping or enjoying…
L.A. is not home to me. It never will be, never could be. It’s dry and sprawling, full of sun-bleached buildings and strip malls. It bears no resemblance to the damp and mildewy place in which I live. But there are a handful of people I love who’ve managed to make Los Angeles their home,…
Yesterday, I visited my mother at her home 20 minutes south of Seattle. As I left, I noticed a few tiny snowflakes begin to fall. It was unexpected – it’s late in the year for snow, and the forecast had predicted the temperatures would be warming up, so I had on only a thin jacket.…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
Available Now!
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