Kate Ryan

The birds abandon their posts in the pepper trees, sending tiny, oblong leaves raining to the ground.

As an Uber driver, I have the privilege of talking to and eavesdropping on a sampling of L.A.’s finest, ranging from the clinically insane to the simply self-absorbed. As a writer, there is no end to the amount of inspiration my passengers provide.

For all of you crazy people that think going to Target is ever a good idea during the holiday season, this is a list on how to survive a shopping trip to Target is for you…

We all love our dogs. However, some of us take it a little too far, convincing ourselves that our dogs are actually our children. You call your dog your “baby” one day, and the next thing you know, you’re pushing him or her down the street in an expensive stroller. How did we get here? Trust me, it’s a slippery slope. Here are 12 signs you might have a dog-child.

One crawled up the side of the bag and opened her wings, a hardtop convertible with legs.

Alison learned from her grandmother how a plastic smile could take you places—especially in a place like Hollywood.

I have no choice but to start all over again, tomorrow or not at all.

Writing simply does for me what long walks do for small dogs; it makes me tired and happy.

At Monster High, Jimmy Werewolf gets another demerit for forgetting to shave again.

Sheila applied widely and on a whim. She needed a job and she needed one fast.