Jody Amable

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.

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

A new feature with music picks tailor-made to ensure your weekend jam sessions are absolutely ravishing.

I couldn’t help but assume the reason these people were telling me not to say even a word to this troll was because women aren’t supposed to fight back. We’re supposed to rise above — to “not stoop to their level,” as my mom used to say.

Like most nerd realms, music writing is a predominantly male world. Especially if, like me, your greatest love is classic rock.

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

Forget a cute story of wizard wonderment — the real moral of Harry Potter is that life is an endless parade of pain and turmoil where you have to watch everyone you’ve ever loved die.

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.

So far, Deathly Hallows is, to me, about the divide between the living, the dead, and the living who have seen death. Harry and I are part of an exclusive club: Those under 30 who have experienced death. And when I say “experienced,” I don’t mean “witnessed.” I mean really, really felt it, all the way through.