Kate Ryan

For all of you crazy people that think going to Target is ever a good idea during the holiday season, this is a list on how to survive a shopping trip to Target is for you…

The bread had to be store-bought and white, of course, so as not to raise a red flag among my classmates. I still see rebellion in a ham sandwich.

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.

I saw my old babysitter at a women’s wrestling cage match.

She doesn’t know how to communicate the feeling that all is for nothing, nothing is normal.

Everywhere you look these days (on Instagram), beautiful pictures abound. From teacups overflowing with succulents to smoothie bowls arranged as art. All while a lavender-haired model casually eats ice cream in front of a stupidly gorgeous Tahitian sunset. All this endless beauty has become a bit dull.

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

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

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.

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