I thought I’d continue with my U.K.-lovefest and present 10 photos from our last trip to London, in which we roamed around, ate dessert, and made juvenile jokes about the human anatomy. Which, if you’ve been paying attention, isn’t all that different from what we do at home. Long-necked giraffe, Giraffe Cafe, London.– – Checking…
I should warn you right now: I am feeling miserably sentimental. Seriously – my brain is a squishy pile of emotional goo right now. I can’t quite identify the source. But going through my photos from our London trip, I am finding myself with the overwhelming desire to pack up my bag and hop on…
I’ve concluded that in my travels, at least, I can either see people or I can see things – but usually not both. On my last trip to London I went to the Old Operating Museum and the Tower of London and roamed all around the city, but I missed out on seeing nearly every…
A few months ago, we went to London so Rand could get some work done, and I could roam around the city and do fuck-all. My life is good. Our lovely friend Ben was with us, as he works with Rand, and their London colleagues needed him to reach things on the top shelf. No,…
Cat-calling, I’ve found, is somewhat universal. At least, from my experiences it is (whether or not the Amhara of Djibouti experience this phenomenon is unknown to me). It varies a bit across countries, like sit-coms: the Italian ones are cheesy, the Americans are a bit vulgar, the English ones are kinda lame, and the German…
The Old Operating Theater in London is the museum equivalent of peeling back a bandage on a skinned knee to see what’s underneath. It’s gross and icky but you can’t look away because it’s just so cool. (I am going to sit back for a minute and hope the rest of this blog post writes…
The continuing saga of how I made it to see John Harrison’s clock. Don’t forget to read Part 1. In the past, I’ve gotten very stressed out while traveling, particularly when things don’t go as planned. Since starting the blog, though, I’ve found that even the mishaps are worthwhile. Though it’s completely contrary to my…
This post marks 1 month (four weeks) of consecutive posting. So I figured this entry had better be a doozy. And considering that it began more than 10 years ago, I suppose it is. It begins with a clock. No, wait. No, it doesn’t. It begins with a book. No, no that’s not right, either.…
I feel like I need to start this off with some sort of caveat about my complex and often contradictory feelings towards vegetarians. Some of my closest friends eschew flesh, which I personally find insane but acknowledge it as a legitimate lifestyle choice for others (sort of like skinny jeans). After all, it literally leaves…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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