Kate Ryan

Everyone wants to have the funny tweets because people equate them with wealth, power, and beauty. The problem is, we’re not all funny.

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.

She gropes for attention while he dies in the other room.

The bread had to be store-bought and white, of course, so as not to raise a red flag among my classmates. I still see rebellion in a ham sandwich.

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

My parents got the idea they’d send me to stay at my grandparents’ house in Florida for a week. I think my mother needed a week to herself.

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

The case of beer I brought, as my mother explained, is “pure poison” and so I must drink it all by myself.

12:48 AM. Why would someone schedule an exorcism for the middle of a weeknight?

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