To this day Faneuil Hall, Greek mythology, and "Empire Records" all still give me the faintest of lady boners.
How dare I attend a wedding that cost easily over $100,000, brimming with Louboutins and expensive champagne, and feel just fine for a moment.
Don't get me started on roommates who subscribe to traditional gender roles in regards to housework, and therefore feel that the mess isn't their problem to deal with.
Twice this week I have made a dinner I had to dump directly in the trash.
Without fail, if the male store clerks see me wandering the aisles without my husband in tow, they’ll follow me around as if they’re worried I might be a shoplifter.
I met a man I loved -– his name is Ben and he happens to be a Modern Orthodox Jew.
It’s 2014, after all. Men don’t just cheat on you and watch too much porn anymore.
One woman was harassed right after having her dog put down after his battle with cancer.
As I walked in, all Colin from "The Secret Garden," the bitchiest girl in the class announced “You’re, like, always sick.”
Where does the battle end? Isn’t the ultimate victory call to call yourself a dad -- without a qualifier?
After school, I’d get my bike and cycle by the mansion where Pat lived. The road turned into a hill right before his house and I’d pump and sweat my way past, praying he didn’t see me, praying he did.
If you want juicy details about the tragic end of a relationship, pick up a tabloid.
As young Black girls, my daughters have a myriad of complex social issues to face.