Brianne Hogan

public speaker. author. entrepreneur. loss-to-love alchemist.

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

For a long time, romantic love was an esoteric thing to me that I assumed would occur eventually, like taxes and having your clothes dry-cleaned.

Come, fervent readers of smart, witty blogs.

I've cried on subways from Toronto to New York. I cried bombing an interview, going to a party that I didn’t want or because my sweater was itchy.

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

sommelier. noser. author. roxane gay fan.

Seriously, the lady is Busy with a capital “B.”

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.