Brianne Hogan

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

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.

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

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

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

Real Names: Heather Cocks and Jessica Morgan

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

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

Come, fervent readers of smart, witty blogs.

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