This story is not mine, and regrettably, I can’t remember who it does belong to. We were in a crowded bar in Dublin when we first heard it, and Rand and I hung on every word. In a month when I’ve shared so many of my old stories, it seemed time to share someone else’s.…
– I had hoped that I would be able to get my post about our visit to the townships of Cape Town up before we left for Australia, but that didn’t pan out. I was rushed for time, and found that I just couldn’t give the tour the attention that it deserved. Rather than draft…
– I love the internet. I suppose that’s not the most revelatory statement I’ve ever made. It’s probably up there with “I like cupcakes” and ” OMG TRAVEL IS NEAT-O.” But cupcakes existed long before I did, and travel has been around since the day that a caveman went for a long walk and thought,…
– After my brain surgery, I had trouble accepting that I was unchanged. “Do I seem different?” I would ask Rand, time and again. “No,” he’d reply. “Baby, you are exactly the same.” And I’d stare at my reflection in the mirror, at my steroid-induced moonface, and say, “But I look different.” “It’s not how…
– I was talking recently with some friends, and they were telling me about a new phenomenon in the processing of coffee beans. The fad involved coffee cherries that are passed through the digestive track of a civet cat (mammals native to the islands of Java and Sumatra). The cats can’t process the beans themselves,…
– I was recently talking to someone close to me about marriage. She told me about Buddhism, and her husband, and their shared views on infidelity – and how the damage it does is like throwing a stone in a pond. The stone causes a splash on impact, but it also causes ripples to…
Walking down a crowded street on a rainy night in Dublin, we heard the distinct sounds of people watching an outdoor movie. I can’t specifically say what the noises were – it’s strange how despite the thousands of films in existence, and the myriad of soundtracks and dialogues and moods expressed therein, they all start…
– I walked into Crackbird with a bit of trepidation. It’s an immensely popular restaurant in Dublin, and they specialize in fried chicken – as well as grilled and roasted – but fried is their signature, and the name of the restaurant is a play on its apparently addictive qualities. They want you to describe…
– Are you tired of hearing about Ireland? Truth be told, I thought I’d be done by now. But damn, a lot happened in Ireland. (I realize I could be referring to both our trip, and to the country’s rich history. Since both would be accurate statements, I am leaving that sentence intentionally vague). Every…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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