That question I nearly always answered with “A sammich. I need a sammich.” I'm romantic like that.

I mean— why on earth would I expect my parents, one of whom is still working, the other of whom is battling stage 4 cancer, to just provide freebie anything for me? That's markedly NOT how I was raised. My folks are working-class farmers. I paid for my own damn college and car and everything else, like a grown-ass…

Counter-counter-counter point: it is another goddamned chore at the end of a long day full of other, more important shit to get done and is likely to do nothing but make peeing hurt and waste precious sleeping time.

I've had rose-and raspberry-rose filled macarons. The best way I can describe it was a moment of synesthesia, where I was eating the color pink.

Cassette tape: I caught my deeply weird little cat Chloe doing a butt-scoot and picked her up, unspooling about a foot of it out of her. Fortunately, the tape was flimsy enough that it didn’t harm her.

Are you using them to protect your legs from super-sharp corn leaves as you trundle through the fields on your International Harvester? Do you enjoy yeast infections?

Can I send my husband off to camp for a few weeks and spend quality time with the cats instead? They let me watch what I want.

My newest feline overlord, Louis

As it went gray about 5 years before my head hair did, yes I shave that crap— otherwise it looks like I've got a dead possum clinging to my nethers.

She looks fantastic, and more like herself than she has in years, and younger somehow.

Plus they have great freebies— like a free case of water or free bacon and eggs, no purchase necessary. I once managed to get all the ingredients for a free breakfast using Kroger coupons.

And people with cats. Over=big shreddy nest of toilet paper.

Growing up in southern WV, we didn't eat grits, and my grandma never fixed them— there was gravy and biscuits and cornbread at every single meal though. My husband, growing up in southwest Virginia coal mining country, loves them, but with butter and sugar like cream of wheat. I grew up on a farm with livestock; he…

I have sad little fried-egg boobs that these things totally do not work for. Too much gapping and room in the cups. I’m maybe a full A on a bloated day. Sports bras 4 lyfe right here. Even though my greatest fear is that I'll get trapped trying to take a really sweaty one off and die with my elbows caught about my…

I helped nurse my (now passed) aunt through a double radical mastectomy and my (still kicking and rocking) Stage-4 mom through a single mastectomy. I have a horrible family history and an A-cup on a bloated day. I’m a yoga instructor. There’s no bloody way I’d get a reconstruction of something that’s a non-issue…

The last time I had RC Cola was at the Thunderbird Inn in Savannah, where the rooms are stocked daily with complimentary RC and Moon Pies. I'm more of a Cheerwine girl, myself, but slushy-cold RC and a mini moon-pie is a damn good snack.

Every one I've been in— in multiple states, in various conditions of repair— smells like dirty hair, old pizza, flop sweat. They're not just uncomfortable for women; they're uncomfortable for anyone with a nose. Give me a wonderful smelling bookshop any day.

The rally in Radford blocked access to a dialysis center. Because keeping people from, you know, dying, isn't a priority for trump either.

Teacher and admitted headstand junkie here. It took me one solid year of headstand practice every day to reach the ease I have with it, and 85% of that was hover plank on the ground to build core strength. I do indeed teach it, but only to experienced students with the core to pull themselves up, and we still spend a…

I'm 42 and have been married forever (because 19-year-olds are stupid) and I know I get emotionally attached to the leftover deviled eggs in the fridge after sex. Like, I will cut a bitch if you steal my food.