Kate Ryan

She couldn’t imagine the water she sat in, the water that enveloped her body, wanted to be here.

My parents got the idea they’d send me to stay at my grandparents’ house in Florida for a week. I think my mother needed a week to herself.

Everyone wants to have the funny tweets because people equate them with wealth, power, and beauty. The problem is, we’re not all funny.

We all love our dogs. However, some of us take it a little too far, convincing ourselves that our dogs are actually our children. You call your dog your “baby” one day, and the next thing you know, you’re pushing him or her down the street in an expensive stroller. How did we get here? Trust me, it’s a slippery slope. Here are 12 signs you might have a dog-child.

Someone would always cook in their tighty whities, his package at eye level for the person doing French homework at the kitchen table.

12:48 AM. Why would someone schedule an exorcism for the middle of a weeknight?

His mind rode the lines, circling on an endless loop to nowhere as he attempted to go about his activities.

Eva, having stayed up the whole night preoccupied with death and time, planned to call in sick.

The case of beer I brought, as my mother explained, is “pure poison” and so I must drink it all by myself.

As an Uber driver, I have the privilege of talking to and eavesdropping on a sampling of L.A.’s finest, ranging from the clinically insane to the simply self-absorbed. As a writer, there is no end to the amount of inspiration my passengers provide.