I realize that one of the most important parts of travel is embracing the unknown. We travel to strange lands and discover what is different and foreign to us, and our minds and hearts are opened. I understand this, I really and truly do. And yet, there is something incredibly wonderful about finding the familiar…
Rand refuses to believe I have a bad side. Photographically speaking, I mean. He knows I have a dark and sinister and downright evil side to my personality – that could never be disputed. It shows itself in full force when I’m stuck in traffic, when too much time has elapsed between my consumption of snacks,…
– Not all trips go smoothly. I’d like to say that they did. I really do. I’d like to tell you that every single journey is a cakewalk, that my hair looks consistently wonderful and blows in the wind as my husband and I frolick through fields hand-in-hand.
– I was hoping that brain surgery would teach me a thing or two. That I would wake up from my operation with some sort of hidden knowledge that’s only accessible to those who’ve had their skulls cracked open. It’s not that I thought I’d wake up speaking French or anything (though I wouldn’t have…
I become a huge, unmitigated dork whenever anyone points a camera at me. Okay, fine: I’m a huge, unmitigated dork in most circumstances, and that includes when someone points a camera at me. –
– Have you ever returned from a trip, or a party, some sort of special, I-really-should-take-photos kind of event, and realize that you took barely any photos at all? You may have a handful of them, but they are blurry or poorly-composed or they make you think “Why in god’s name did I take a…
– Do you ever look back at events, with the hindsight of years gone by, and wonder how exactly you were able to get through them? In high school, a friend of mine commented on this phenomenon. She and I had gone to Homecoming (with our respective dates) a mere two weeks or so after…
It’s been six weeks since my surgery. My surgeon said that it would take about six weeks until I felt completely like myself again. Six weeks until I was more or less recovered. And he was right. I feel like myself. More or less. I feel more tired. And more sensitive. Literally. I have a…
For several days, there were staples in my head. I wish there were a more technical term for them, but there isn’t. They were not sutures or metallic head brackets or anything like that. These were good, old-fashioned, industrial-size staples, like the kind you’d find at the hardware store. Miraculously, I don’t remember most of…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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