Brianne Hogan

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

If you’re looking for a health and wellness guru, look no further than Ani Phyo.

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

brave. bawdy. decidedly not depressed.

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

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

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.

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

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.

sommelier. noser. author. roxane gay fan.