Jody Amable

I was waiting to finally not like a Harry Potter book, and folks, I found it. Half-Blood Prince was boring.

So far, Deathly Hallows is, to me, about the divide between the living, the dead, and the living who have seen death. Harry and I are part of an exclusive club: Those under 30 who have experienced death. And when I say “experienced,” I don’t mean “witnessed.” I mean really, really felt it, all the way through.

According to the magazine, women need special help understanding sports. Cue the glorious, hilarious Twitter outrage.

Harnessing the courage within myself—courage I didn’t even know I had—to coolly, calmly call this guy out has made me a better human being.

FINALLY someone acknowledges professional boundaries at Hogwarts.

Jon Stewart, step aside. Your heir apparent has arrived.

A few weeks back, I got looped into an Instagram chat with some coworkers from one of my gigs, who were snarking about the fact that the

No matter how drunk he is, he can’t NOT notice this. His hand is moving. What do I do? What do I do? Do I politely ask him to stop? Do I yell at him? Do I wheel around and whack him in the face? You don’t know what he’s doing, Jody. Calm down. Don’t make a scene.

In the aftermath of my mom passing, I've learned to reconcile our rocky relationship with the knowledge that she loved me.

The further I get into this series, the harder time I am having remembering what the eff has happened so far. You see, I am an Old Lady.