Kate Ryan

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

Eva, having stayed up the whole night preoccupied with death and time, planned to call in sick.

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.

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.

Okay, so maybe she didn’t really understand feminism.

Someone would always cook in their tighty whities, his package at eye level for the person doing French homework at the kitchen table.

You could take this easy, informative quiz to find out with whom you side on important legislative issues and social policies. Or you could go my route and pick your candidate based on what dinosaur they resemble.

She doesn’t know how to communicate the feeling that all is for nothing, nothing is normal.

Motherhood is easily the toughest, most sacred job on earth. Without moms, the human race simply wouldn’t be here. But personally, I’d rather dangle myself from dental floss over a volcano full of spiders than push another human being out of my body.

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