I may have sustained a serious bump on my head during our last stay at a Kimpton hotel, because the French doors in our room decided to plot against me (note: always be wary of the French). And I might have gotten into a slight skirmish with the packaging on my vanity kit, because I…
Sigh. So, as you might remember from yesterday’s post (because I not only pretend I have readers – I pretend I have loyal ones), we stayed at the Grims Grenka hotel in Oslo. Or, as I like to call it, Torvald’s House of Design and Mystery. While we were there, we experienced a Dick Move,…
— Note: I wrote this post last week, but like a fool, didn’t have access to the photos until after I got home. Sorry for any confusion. — At the time of writing this, I’m in Manhattan, sitting in what might be one of the scarier hotels my husband and I have had the pleasure…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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