October, 1953. New York City. Record Exec: So Eartha, we just heard the preliminary recordings for “Santa Baby.” Eartha: Lucky you. Exec: Uh, yes. Thank you. Eartha: You’re welcome. I assume we’re done here. Exec: Uh, no. There’s more that we need to discuss. Eartha: Well, lets make it snappy. I promised Orson Welles…
I need to tell you something. Something very important. Are you sitting down? It’s not strictly necessary. You can stand if you want. Do you need a pen? I guess you don’t need one of those, either. This isn’t a particularly long message. Are you ready? Okay. You don’t need to make a pumpkin pie…
In my younger years (of which I have increasingly more and more … TIME, SERIOUSLY, CUT IT OUT) I often dreamed of spending New Year’s Eve in Times Square. I’d be huddled alongside the masses, and it would be cold and clear and wonderful. The ball would drop, the crowd would cheer, and I’d have…
It is the first Monday of the new year, and I am sure many of you, like me, are in the throes of a rather nasty vacation hangover. I can picture you, wherever you may find yourself (at the office; in a minivan full of children you don’t really know or like; in central holding…
I am officially phoning this one in. I know, I know – it’s completely and utterly lame of me, but let’s be fair: no one is really working this week, unless eating Christmas cookies and shopping can somehow constitute work (it sadly does not, otherwise I’d be making overtime). So rather than post something brand…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
Available Now!
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