– Friends, let me tell you something: steroids are terrible. Many of you are probably wondering why a perfect physical specimen such as myself would need to resort to steroids in the first place. After all, my body is temple (albeit one dedicated to sloth and cupcakes). The answer is, simply, brain surgery. Steroids are commonly given…
I know it’s not technically Friday, but I’m hungry and thinking about food right now, so time means nothing to me. – There are statements I never thought I’d say. But after enough travel, I’ve started saying them. To a maintenance man in a New York city hotel: “Oh no, I’m happy to plunge my…
– Pok Pok, for a lot of people in the northwest, is probably old news. When I first visited it a little over a year ago at the recommendation of my friend Jessica, it was still relatively obscure. The repetitive name did not hang on the lips of northwest foodies like a whisper to a…
– I don’t get interior decorating. This shouldn’t be too much of a surprise to anyone. I can barely dress myself, and I have the benefit of being scorned publicly by my peers – I can learn from positive reinforcement (no one laughed hysterically the moment I walked into the room? Great. Wear that outfit…
– It’s not easy being Portland. Staying on the cutting edge of weird, on the forefront of WTF, can only be exhausting. The city is constantly inventing, perfecting, and growing tired of things that won’t reach the rest of us until months or even years later. They are the connoisseurs of pastimes we don’t yet know exist.
Rand and I have been planning out the year’s travel – or parts of it, anyway (There are a number of trips for which we can never plan. They come up last minute, usually in the early hours of the morning, when Rand will shout from his office something along the lines of “I need to…
Southern Oregon is idyllic. – It’s also the site of one of the most horrific things I’ve ever seen in my entire life (note: on the grand scale of things, this isn’t saying much. My life is a cakewalk, minus the walk).
I have no problem with the notion that Jesus lives. Whether you are referring to your passion for your lord and savior, or simply taking note of a Hispanic man named Jesus who happens to have a zest for life, I find this statement to be pretty innocuous. However, I do think it’s kind of weird…
Rand and I are heading to Portland soon. We haven’t been there since the end of last summer, when we stopped for a night on our way down to Ashland. I’m thrilled to be going back. I love Portland. It’s this wonderful combination of beauty and grit, of art and industry. And perhaps nothing captures…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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