Kate Ryan

My tights are cutting me in half at the waist . . . just like a sausage in its casing.

She closed in on the open pores enlarged ten times their normal size by a high magnification pocket mirror.

Recently, it was announced that the Ocean’s Eleven remake will be ladies-only too. Could it be that we’ve embarked on an era in which women take center stage?

The birds abandon their posts in the pepper trees, sending tiny, oblong leaves raining to the ground.

For the record, I didn’t mean to be born so tall. I didn’t ask for bulky shoulders or a head that doesn’t fit most hats.

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.

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

He died a violent death. I saw him myself, flopping between wooden blades, his head bent back strangely.

Alison learned from her grandmother how a plastic smile could take you places—especially in a place like Hollywood.

Motherhood is easily the toughest, most sacred job on earth. Without moms, the human race simply wouldn’t be here. But personally, I’d rather dangle myself from dental floss over a volcano full of spiders than push another human being out of my body.