Kate Ryan

Okay, so maybe she didn’t really understand feminism.

He thought I was mad, but in an artistic way; I thought he was horny all the time, but in an artistic way.

My parents got the idea they’d send me to stay at my grandparents’ house in Florida for a week. I think my mother needed a week to herself.

The case of beer I brought, as my mother explained, is “pure poison” and so I must drink it all by myself.

Someone would always cook in their tighty whities, his package at eye level for the person doing French homework at the kitchen table.

Eva, having stayed up the whole night preoccupied with death and time, planned to call in sick.

Fresh orange juice, milk, thick slices of ham, a block of cheese, a carton of eggs—her husband kept it this way should this moment arrive.

Alison learned from her grandmother how a plastic smile could take you places—especially in a place like Hollywood.

It was a tradition of theirs. When siblings Sue and Johnny went home to their mother’s for Christmas, they watched the 11 o’clock local news.

You could take this easy, informative quiz to find out with whom you side on important legislative issues and social policies. Or you could go my route and pick your candidate based on what dinosaur they resemble.