Catherine Gigante-Brown

Who says feminists don't love alpha males and cooking?

"Sometimes David wore his hair spiked like a cockscomb. Others, he wore it feathery like a baby chick. He wore his Mohawk to summer camp (exchanging encouraging head chucks with another older camper who sported one, too) and even to Vacation Bible School—no judgment there."

At first, I felt like an abandoned ten-year-old, dropped off at a remote summer camp—with the extra added attraction of no cell phone reception or Wi-Fi. I thought the hardest part of the weekend was going to be picking out a robe. Boy, was I wrong!

Food can be more than nourishing; it can be healing.

I try. I really do. But whenever I attempt to embrace my husband Peter’s Cuban culture, I always screw up.

That’s the thing about being a breast cancer survivor — it’s always there: it never goes away. The scars, the fear that lurks in the back of your mind like a boogeyman. You’re going along nicely, living your merry life, and you’re fine, until you’re not.

I asked a handful of women: why are people so scared of ladyparts?

Alexa is like a nosy neighbor: She’s always listening. That’s how she can respond when you ask her to do something. So, when you’re getting busy on the kitchen counter — Alexa’s listening. When you’re telling Capital One the last four digits of your SSN — Alexa’s listening. And who knows who else is.

You learn a lot about people when you live in their home. The Taylors seemed to lead a joyless, Spartan existence.

The office cubicle is indeed a strange bird. Here's how to survive life in a box without driving you—or your office mates—crazy.