Jody Amable

I was waiting to finally not like a Harry Potter book, and folks, I found it. Half-Blood Prince was boring.

The further I get into this series, the harder time I am having remembering what the eff has happened so far. You see, I am an Old Lady.

Harnessing the courage within myself—courage I didn’t even know I had—to coolly, calmly call this guy out has made me a better human being.

I'm 30 years old and stuck in San Jose, the hometown I always wanted to leave. What happened?

According to the magazine, women need special help understanding sports. Cue the glorious, hilarious Twitter outrage.

The neighbors turned their lights off. My dog fell sound asleep. I kept reading. And at 1:03 am, I finished. All was well.

Creator of grungy, gritty rock and roll with a poet’s heart, her critically-lauded record, Beyond the Bloodhounds, tells tales of a tumultuous childhood and split geographical identity.

Jon Stewart, step aside. Your heir apparent has arrived.

No matter how drunk he is, he can’t NOT notice this. His hand is moving. What do I do? What do I do? Do I politely ask him to stop? Do I yell at him? Do I wheel around and whack him in the face? You don’t know what he’s doing, Jody. Calm down. Don’t make a scene.

There are a lot of things to hate about the Olympics.