Easter (and the Eucharist) at The Olive Garden
I was afraid I wouldn’t have anything to write about today—what with having the spent the past week in the middle of nowhere and all—but then…
You Know You Live With Your Parents When…
The other day I noticed a new library book on the coffee table. It belonged to my mother and bore the title “How to Raise Your…
Driving Miss Date-sy
The appearance of Reese’s Pieces Cereal Puffs could mean only one thing: my brother was coming to visit, my dad had gone grocery shopping and my…
Driving in Circles
You’re going to have to accept my apologies for today’s post. It was going to be all about my triumphant return to Match.com (which, in truth,…
Fireworks at Midnight
Since my last post, I’ve consumed one and a half martinis, three chocolate rum balls, two glasses of champagne, another two glasses of sangria and at…
Christmas Eve at Casa Richter
“Five bucks,” my brother says. “Final offer. Take it or leave it.” “Leave it,” I reply. It’s Christmas Eve at the Richter house and my brother…
Sex and the… Parental Abode
Here’s a little known secret about Yours Truly: I live with my parents. I pay rent, and I have my own bathroom, but still: I live…
Kat Echevarría Richter 