Andria Parker

How you can sit there, calmly eating muffins when we are in this horrible trouble, I can’t make out. You seem to me to be perfectly heartless." "Well, I can’t eat muffins in an agitated manner. The butter would probably get on my cuffs. One should always eat muffins quite calmly. It is the only...

When my mother suggested that on our Christmas family vacation the seven of us drive three hours from Phoenix, Arizona to the red rocks of Sedona we all jumped at the opportunity against what should have been better judgment. We figured the excursion was a chance to see something different, something new, it was a...

My brother stood positioned on one side of the tree while my mother fiddled anxiously on the other. “Watch her, please,” my dad cautioned them both. Again, louder, “watch her, please, you two.” There was a sense of urgency, a sense of distress in his voice. Those of us who weren’t the designated spotters sat...

Eleven days ago, our country began welcoming the flights of Syrian refugees into its National airports. Churches, non-profits, businesses, caring individuals and community organizations began to put together settling-in baskets filled with the necessities that would be getting these people through the first few weeks ahead. My family had been following the news closely; waiting...

Yesterday, my favorite self-acceptance guru announced to the Internet that for Christmas she gave herself a boob job. I got the notification on my phone immediately after she posted her explanatory blog and I proceeded to ignore my husband throughout brunch as I read — with great care, interest and (I’ll admit) judgment — about...

There is an annoying post floating around on Pinterest that, for whatever reason, I like each time it comes into my vision. On a plethora of holiday colored backgrounds — most likely one dollar Canva stock — floats the following quote: too blessed to be stressed. The words usually swirl around each other in beginner’s...

This past week, a New York Times article blew up on the Internet courtesy of its title, in which the author referred to Adele not by her name, but by calling her a “27-year-old mother who barely uses social media.” The backlash was immediate. “Would someone write about Justin Timberlake as a 34-year-old dad who...

Twelve years ago, along with five other 16 year olds, I was granted detention for painting a provocative and non-age-appropriate team name onto the back of a tank top during lunch hour. Not thinking about the slogan with any seriousness or ill intent, we high-fived like rebels on the run and hung the shirts to...

When I was a little girl and would come home with a scraped knee or another bruise, my father would plunk me onto his lap and say, in the most soothing voice he could muster, “don’t sweat the small stuff.” Of course, at five, a bleeding wound wasn’t made better by this tender advice. I...

If you had asked me this time last week who Essena O’Neill was, I would have suggested maybe a Russian figure skater. While neither of those names sound particularly Russian, there wouldn’t have been much point in putting more thought into it, being I had no idea who she was, or why you were asking....

The phrase “preaching to the choir” has been uttered through my lips so many times it has begun to sound like the word spoon does when spoken repetitively — meaningless, void of any substance and flippant. The phrase “practice what you preach” has similarly gotten some good use over the past 28 years. It is...

In October, 1998, a 10-year-old girl decided the Wes Craven film, Scream, was a good fit for her Halloween themed birthday party. As both her parents were out until 10 p.m. and her older sister was being a typical 16-year-old chaperone, no one was there to advise the wiser. Fifteen Grade 5 girls gathered under...

Much like most children born between the years of 1980 and 1990, the first experience I ever had with Playboy magazine came to me through my father. Of course, I like to think my experience is unique if only because my father is a minister and the specific picture to which I so fondly refer...

In the wake of a several-week period filled with horrible, heartbreaking national and international news, we find ourselves now in the days leading up to the Thanksgiving weekend. A weekend that, traditionally, is spent with loved ones — friends, families — while sharing an immense sense of gratitude for everything the year has brought. For...

Seasonal excitement has gotten out of control. It happened on a whole new level last year when the pumpkin spiced latte got its own hashtag and started trending, but even before pumpkin spice became the only thing nice, seasonal anticipation was starting to go overboard. There was the Christmas countdown app that everyone downloaded in...

There isn’t much that makes me squirm with discomfort. Apart from moths inside lampshades, unexpected penis pictures, the occasional episode of criminal minds and awkward small talk with old high school classmates, I’m pretty steadfast when it comes to most situations. More and more, however, I’m finding myself experiencing pangs of what can only be...

In 1984, Madonna released a single that would permeate the entertainment scene like a stick of margarine on a chiffon blouse. “Material Girl” blew up — foreseeing the next 20 (maybe even 30?) years of economic dependence on department stores. While I wasn’t born until after the song left the billboards (’87), I was never...

Kanye West yelled the words “f--k that bro!” into his microphone at the Microsoft Theatre in Los Angeles and proceeded to make a frighteningly thoughtful claim about the state of the arts in the modern world at the MTV VMAs last Sunday, Aug. 30. “I just wanted people to like me more,” West states, halfway...

6 A.M. is early enough to begin with, but 6 A.M. and 2000 people in Spandex tights is another thing entirely. There isn’t enough coffee in the world to adjust that sight — especially when all 2000 of those people are soaking wet and crammed into a giant rodeo barn. The Ride to Conquer Cancer...

In 1986, upon the evening of the summer solstice, Larry Harvey, Jerry James and a handful of other Haight-Ashbury beatniks gathered on Baker Beach in San Francisco, California and set a nine foot wooden man and his little wooden dog on fire. The dog has since been taken out of the equation, but the wooden...

The ten-year high school reunion is something that has gained a reputation as being both tedious and terrific, equal parts stressful and successful, both a blast and a bomb. It is something teenagers think about in the throes of being pushed up against lockers and being the chubby girl in the locker room. It is...

Last summer, while travelling in the UK with my 90-year-old grandmother, I had a list of things I wanted to accomplish on my trip. One of them was to take a photograph of a Highland cow — which after a series of petty crimes was finally deemed impossible — and another was to drive backwards-standard...

I watched as the waitress with the moon tattoo descended upon our table straight out of the blue cigarette cloud. I prayed that the restaurant would turn into a serve-yourself cafeteria and — for a brief moment — I questioned my level of hunger, despite being fresh off an overseas flight during which I refused...