Brianne Hogan

Last week was my imaginary ex-boyfriend's birthday. January 2, to be exact. I only know this because Facebook told me so. I had forgotten about him.

The chin hairs were the first hint of my impending senior discounts and early-bird dinners.

Come, fervent readers of smart, witty blogs.

Jenny Trout. Abigail Barnette. Jennifer Armintrout. Missing anyone?

If you’re looking for a health and wellness guru, look no further than Ani Phyo.

The cards showed me the Tower and the Ten of Swords, which is basically bleak shit worthy of jumping off a tall building.

From fierce bunnies to books, Sonja rocks the art world.

I sent out Christmas cards this year, which I wrote upon with an actual pen. But it wasn’t always like this.

Three of my grandparents died within seven months of each other. And I didn't even have a driver's license.

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