Once, I was shopping at Borders. I love to read and I love bookstores, so my local Borders knows me as a bit of a regular. I was checking out with two hard-won purchases: the autobiography of Hillary Rodham Clinton and the Martha Stewart Baking Handbook. The clerk snorted in laughter when he saw the combination I had in my hands. “Yes?” I asked him, a bit miffed. He rang me up without a word, and I declined a bag with pursed lips.

Why, I’ve wondered since, must these two women be pitted against each other symbolically? In embracing the values of Secretary Clinton, must one, by definition, abhor the values of Ms. Stewart? Does my incessant desire to bake a cupcake eliminate my ability to critically engage culture?

This is my attempt: to redefine the domestic; to give the domestic a voice. Certainly, I will post about my traditionally domestic newlywed adventures—a failed soup, for example, or a kick-ass lasagna. However, as domesticity should no longer be plaguing women by limiting their participation in society, I will wholeheartedly participate: I am a graduate student, I am an unashamed aspiring member of the literati, I am an art and film critic, and lordy, do I love politics.

So, I shall read Salon and the New York Times; I shall gradually chip away at my stack of books by Nobel laureates; I shall post on my opinion of these things, all the while enjoying married life, experimenting in the kitchen and eating some excellent homemade snacks, courtesy of Martha.