Jess Lahitou

The five 2016 Democratic candidates for President met in Las Vegas for their first debate last night, and this writer’s prediction is that the field will be down to three for the next matchup. (Barring Joe Biden’s entry into the race, which remains a distant possibility).

Back in my early twenties, I struggled financially. But more so in that much-mocked Millennial quest of “finding myself,” I made a number of questionable decisions.

The Republican National Convention ended July 21. If you’re checking the calendar, that puts us at twelve days post-nomination wrap up for Donald J. Trump.

In that tiny window of time, DJT has managed to wreck any conceivable polls-bounce he might have gained from the star-spangled show of pretend Republican unity.

So I don’t approve, in general, of how my generation tends to come at things, with the focus on: me, my experience, my

Wayne Tracker. When I first came across this made-up alias, it didn’t speak to me like someone’s first and last name.

So I’m writing today from Elevation 8,080 ft., here in Avon, Colorado.

Millennials know the '90s were the best decade for music in our lifetime (arguably, best decade EVER). But it’s easy to forget just how many un-freakin-believably kick-butt-love tunes were packed into that 10 years. Let’s rehash the '90s for the autumn lover.

If I’m just online screaming, what am I not doing in physical reality?

Four years ago, my husband took a job transfer to Bogota, Colombia.

Is there a difference between what the cigs biz did back in the 1950s and ‘60s and the way present-day pharmaceutical companies have aggressively marketed opioids like OxyContin?