Catherine Gigante-Brown

Although I tried to convince myself that I wasn't racist, if the truth were told, I didn't like Muslims. Especially after 9/11.

The heartbreaking saga of a 14-year-old Black prostitute who was murdered in cold blood by her (maybe) pimp on Christmas Eve in 1900 Savannah.

Having someone steal my cancer history and co-opt it for their first-person Facebook blog is unbelievably violating. Somehow, it feels almost as invasive as my mastectomy.

Why, when I'm cool with being a salt-and-pepper chick, does it so clearly unnerve others?

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

You realize pretty soon that everything other than cancer — i.e. missing a train, being late to your dentist appointment — is no biggie compared to the suck factor of chemo.

If the odds of getting cancer are like Powerball, why couldn't I be a scratch-off millionaire?

sex sage. fetish specialist. author.

I saw my present mother-in-law in a whole new light the first time she held my newborn son.

raunchy renaissance woman. multimedia artist. probably a slut.