– There is no photography allowed inside the upper galleries of le musée de l’Orangerie.
– 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…
– I’m a bargain-hunter. I’d like to think of this as one of my better qualities, instead of, as my husband puts it, “an acute kind of madness.” And granted, sometimes I do strange things to avoid spending money. Not unethical things, mind you. I’ve never shoplifted or stolen anything (okay, FINE, there was that…
There’s an old Cary Grant movie called People Will Talk. If you haven’t seen it, go do so now. I’ll wait. … Wasn’t it amazing? I know. I love it, too. I have a weak spot for Cary Grant. Actually, I have several weak spots for Cary Grant, and they’re all located around my knees, or thereabouts.…
There are several places where Rand’s culture and mine overlap: – At that intersection, you will find weird issues about food. And weird issues about mothers. Crippling guilt makes an appearance, too. And weirdly, the mafia can be found there.
– I hope Bill and I become friends. He looks sort of like a grown-up version of the kid from Up. He has the raspy, mumbling accent of a lifelong west coaster. Where every word lazily drips out of his mouth and spreads itself out on a sunny patch of grass.
Dear Deutsche Museum, I like you, I really do. You are at the top of my list of attractions to visit in Munich. I had a ridiculously fun time roaming through all of your exhibits and halls, and I became acutely aware of how little I know about … well, everything. In particular, I enjoyed…
– Rand and I walked through the Museum of Modern Art in Manhattan, holding hands. It was early winter, and he was neglecting his work in order to enjoy the art. This happens approximately never, so I was making good use of the time by squeezing his hand really tightly. “Ouch.” Love hurts, babe. Get…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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