Brianne Hogan

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’ve decided that I no longer want to depend on an exchange of cultural consumption or “comparing lives” currency in order to feel good about myself.

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

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

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advice guru. lube lover. workaholic.

sommelier. noser. author. roxane gay fan.

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

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.

accidental movie star. founder of crankytown. wannabe villain.