– People are constantly marveling at my sense of sense of smell, which I find rather amusing. I tap my large and glorious nose, smile, and say, “What, you think this thing is just for show?” And while my memory is fading a bit on precisely how we ended up at Bubo, a high end…
– How does the old adage go? Photos without people in them are merely postcards? Something like that. It’s a fair criticism. But I’ve always been of the mind that photos with people in them, standing and smiling at the camera as though they were just recovering from a lobotomy, aren’t much better. I mean,…
Every time I travel to Europe, I am consistently amused by the warning signs I encounter (as far as entertainment value, they rank up there with Italian television, which is no small feat. TV shows in Italy make no sense and often include dance interludes with women in tiny dresses. Chauvinism has never been more hilarious). In…
We were walking near La Rambla in Barcelona when we saw this sign: – For those of you who, like me, speak absolutely no real German (and are nearly fluent in fake German, but have been forbidden to speak it because your husband deems it “offensive and really, really wrong”), allow me to translate. It…
This post was supposed to go up last night, but it didn’t. Why? Because last night my husband came returned from his most recent overseas jaunt, and the evening was destined to be spent eating chocolate-chip ginger banana bread on the couch while catching up on The Daily Show. Clearly, I am a woman with…
I like to think of myself as a reasonably intelligent person. Oh, stop laughing. I said reasonably. Yes, I’ve hopped on trains with absolutely no idea where I was going, and it once took me three days to get to the Presidio from downtown San Francisco via public transportation (I could have made it there faster…
I tend to miss things. Street signs. Major themes in books and film (I watched Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy and was woefully confused because I kept getting distracted by Benedict Cumberbatch’s hair). And often, when I travel, I tend to miss precisely what it was I set out to see on that day. This past…
Hotel Balmes, where we stayed for a few days during our trip to Barcelona last fall, stands out in my memory not for its convenient location nor its seemingly bored-to-tears staff. No. The perfectly-adequate-but-still-lacking-jamon-serrano breakfast does not really jump out at me, either, and our view (of an air duct) leaves no distinct mark on…
I should not be left to my own devices while shopping in other countries. I get it into my head that I should buy something avant-garde and unique and so European that when I get it home to the states I will be hailed as some sort of fashion goddess. “Where on earth did you…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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