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.

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

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

The turkey was rubbery. The mac ‘n cheese was cold. But somehow the meal was delightful.

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brave. bawdy. decidedly not depressed.

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

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

Dry humping my pillow and imagining it was David Duchovny seemed a much hotter alternative than doing the real thing.