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Important news! Please read.

(Photo by Markus Winkler on Unsplash)

Since I’ve gotten more serious about my writing, I’ve learned so much about how blogging works. It’s no longer getting an idea and putting it on paper or a screen. Everyone has opinions, everyone writes them down, everyone has access to a domain, so everyone has a blog, which means words are being created and edited and published and viewed and consumed at any given time. Some bloggers are no less than cult leaders — with their adoring mass of RSS-infused followers. They’re the OG influencers before Instagram became a thing. Most of them even have published books with sparkling 5 stars on Amazon or Goodreads.Continue reading“Important news! Please read.”

Firecracker.

(Photo by Japheth Mast on Unsplash)

My nephew is a firecracker. And not the sedate, sizzling kind. No, he’s the kind who comes wrapped in a tight, trim package, sheathed in fancy plastic and promising simple, wholesome fun for the whole family. He soaks in all the energy around him and lights up like a firefly in the twilight. You think he’ll crackle merrily, maybe even go off with an adorable pop, so you step in close to watch the fun.Continue reading“Firecracker.”

Week 1

It’s been a weird pollen-y week here in California, and my sinuses are feeling it. I’ve been sniffling for a few days, assuring my daughter it’s not the COVID and stealth sneezing, to not worry her anymore. My first instinct has been to crash on the couch and drink soup, so I did that for half a day. Continue reading“Week 1”

The one thing I can do.

(Photo by Natalie Grainger on Unsplash)

It’s pretty apparent I have been letting myself go for a while. I’m not very tall — 5’5” if I don’t slouch — so the extra weight shows. Folds exist where there were none before. I make this ungainly “unff” sound after climbing a flight of stairs. And my knees. Oh, my knees are writing angry letters to the editor.Continue reading“The one thing I can do.”

Off my lawn, you whippersnappers!

(Photo by Kevin Lehtla on Unsplash)

Lately, I’ve noticed myself changing and not for the better. I’m crabby even after my caffeine fix, and I frequently catch myself loud-sighing when things don’t go my way. Life’s minor annoyances irk me to no end — looking at you, Mr. Lexus, who thinks it is acceptable to go 50 mph on the express lane, despite my polite honking. I’m not even 40 yet, which means menopause is years away, so that can’t be an excuse. But a tiny throbby vein is setting up permanent residence on my temple, and try as I might, I can’t douse the prickly fire burning in my lower belly. If I was at one of those meetings, where everyone says a few words about themselves, I would go, “Hi, I’m Pavi, and I hate most things, including meetings like this one. Also, stop staring at me, Brenda. What, you’ve never seen a woman show up to work in yoga pants? Sheesh.” Continue reading“Off my lawn, you whippersnappers!”

Soulmates.

They say “sex sells,” but I disagree. If I want to peddle something, it makes little sense to go the skimpy bikini route. Instead, I find myself a wholesome couple – conventionally attractive, yet relatable and normal. I then throw them into an impossible situation and wedge my product/service in there somehow. The scientific formula for the ad would be:

Quagmire + my product/service = violins playing as the couple walks off into the sunset, fingers, and hearts entwined. Ah, they’re soulmates!Continue reading“Soulmates.”

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