unsplash/ Dzana Serdarevic

I watch Jeopardy a lot. It has come to be my safe show when the house is just a bit too quiet or if I don’t want to become emotionally invested in a drama series.

My father watched Jeopardy a lot too, although not quite in the same manner as myself. I can simply press a few buttons, open a streaming service, and sit for hours consuming decades worth of the brainy gameshow. Dad had to wait until 7 o’clock each night and watch only one episode at a time.

I sat with him during this dinnertime ritual and listened…

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I’d love to be the type of writer who can sit down at a computer and compose an inspired, thought out and well edited piece from start to finish, and create a beautiful portfolio from the serenity of a well decorated home office.

Alas, I am not.

My writing process is messy because truthfully, I am messy. I like to prop my laptop on a pillow while I sit on the couch. It’s also pretty common for me to have the TV on in the background as I work. …

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In 2002, Scott was only nine years old, and like all kids, he was beginning to come down with a bug. Or so everyone thought. Sweating, weakness, incessant vomiting, and dehydration all perfect symptoms of what his parents believed to be the stomach flu. A pack of ginger ale and a few days spent in bed and he’d be right as rain.

However, his illness pressed on for two straight weeks before Scott finally collapsed in the shower, where his father found him unconscious under the cold tap. Frantic at the sight of his son at the bottom of the…

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I know it’s cute to wear sterling silver rings on every finger and take Instagram pictures of you writing in the “grimoire” you bought from Barnes and Noble, but this new witchcraft trend among young women really blends any individuality into a singular mass-produced Earthbound Trading Co. and Hot Topic love child.

This Moon Goddess persona likely originated from the emo/scene phase we all went through. That’s right, I remember 2006. An undeniable evolution from awkward preteen with Manic Panic hair and thick eyeliner to a full-fledged adult, with Manic Panic hair and thick eyeliner. …

I’m not the only one who wishes they could hear ‘I’m sorry’

Photo: Simon Jowett/Flickr

“Never apologize; it’s a sign of weakness,” is a phrase my father used on many occasions throughout my childhood. My little-kid brain associated this motto as simply a part of his vocabulary. A dadism I took as mere comic relief after my mini-mouse voice squeaked out an “I’m sorry” for stepping on his foot or spilling my milk at the dinner table.

As my early teens approached, I began apologizing for other things, such as when I accidentally dumped a brimming ashtray into his fresh coffee. The upward inflection of his words following yet another “I’m sorry” felt reassuring. Forgiving…

Savannah Parker

I like some things, others I don’t. I write about both. SavannahParkerInk@gmail.com Twitter: @parker_ink

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