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According to the Book of Revelation, the Four Horsemen will be the harbingers of the great end, where death and pestilence will reign, the faithful will cling weakly to anything onto which they can hold, and a final, epic battle between good and evil will ensue.

In the end times, an earthquake will shoot dust into the clouds and the stars will fall to earth. Man will seek shelter behind rocks and in caves. And the world, as we know it, will end forever.

That’s pretty dramatic.

Like, today, for example, I read about how a twenty-five-year-old man in Alabama…


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I don’t know about you, but I had Health class once a week, for an hour, in high school. I don’t even remember if I had Health every year. We had a memorable teacher, but I have to admit I was one of the majority who rarely paid attention. I had better things to do.

Education has come a long way over the years, progressive initiatives shimmying in and out of schools and programs, but I feel we have yet to get it fully right. Kids leave school (and enter college) woefully unprepared for real life, and leave college similarly…


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I became an entertainment writer around 2013, as a website I wrote for regularly began featuring my entertainment pieces. I enjoyed drawing parallels between society and what we watched. I enjoyed finding patterns, writing recaps, and creating fun roundups for readers. I became a syndicated writer, and would pitch my editors nearly constantly because I so loved music, television, and movies. About a year later, I found myself a syndicated entertainment writer for a major magazine.

My content had, in general, been carefully curated, working with editors on themes, word count, and style. The promotional work I did stuck very…


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I see her pretty frequently. She’s struggling, heaving her way down the street, legs like sinewy pretzel rods, the same width from her hips to her ankles. Her gait is unnatural. She’s overdressed.

Perhaps I’ve seen her more times than I care to recall. I’ve had clients like her. I remember one woman, who would meet with me at a coffee shop, by a pier, on the hottest of summer days, dressed in a sweatshirt and turtleneck. Her eyes were sunken, her hair dry and brittle, and there was no trace of happiness in her face.

She’s anorexic. She’s suffering…


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Social Media rules, right? It rules our every day. It’s the foundation of our daily routine. We’re never logged out. That being the case, we don’t, we can’t, seem to unplug from the idiosyncratic patterns of our fellow man.

Sure, we tolerate it with our families, and some friends, but from acquaintances? It’s downright annoying.

There’s something about the written word that seems to carry more weight — its display, its permanence — that tends to hasten the solidification of anger — or envy, or plain old disgust. And I don’t like it.

Mild-mannered human beings with whom we used…


I sat in the hairdresser’s chair, furtively eyeing the woman to my right. She looked a rather well-preserved fifty. Her lashes hung thickly and heavily over her close-set eyes. I imagined she had to strain to blink. It was too much lash for that much lid. Eyelash extensions? Latisse? What were people doing for eyelashes these days, anyway? Whichever the situation, her baby doll lashes were clearly out of place on her small face.

I noticed a rolling shelf beside her. Her stylist was painstakingly attaching blonde hair extensions to the back of her head.

Sad, I thought to myself…


Photo Credit: Stephanie Bernaba/White Orchid Media

I spent most of my life with my wheels spinning, running on angst, pride, and selfishness. I was looking for the next best thing, new jobs, promotions, graduate schools, a good hairdresser. I devoted a considerable amount of time to lovingly pruning grocery-store bouquets, dusting, and straightening the art on the walls. I was young. I was, for a large portion of that time, single, and I was a very vocal product of the Me Generation and an only child.

I knew who I was, what I wanted, and where I was going. I knew what I was cooking that…


Photo Credit: Wikipedia Commons

My parents never apologized much. Maybe it was the generation, or the world being a slightly different existential place, but when I was a child, adults seemed to me so distant, so far away that they cast very long shadows.

It was hard to imagine caregivers and adults were actually human. They rarely showed emotion, and they were always right. You didn’t ask why, and you didn’t talk back. It was the rule.

I wouldn’t label it all a lack of tenderness, because tenderness was certainly there when I needed it, but perhaps more of a deficiency in relatability, an…


Image Credit: Wikimedia Commons

Nothing warms the cockles of one’s heart quite like the anticipation of an abundant Thanksgiving table — a juicy, perfectly-browned, twenty-five pound turkey, individual-sized sweet potato pies topped with perfect pillows of marshmallow crème, rustic sausage stuffing, cranberry compote dusted with orange zest, and freshly baked seven-grain rolls with softened butter…

Is your mouth watering yet? Almost sounds like a dream, doesn’t it? Like a two-page spread in a magazine?

That’s because it probably is.

I’ve seen many a Thanksgiving over the years, and, suffice it to say, my dinner has never looked like that. If I may be so…


You and I need to have a sit-down. Just you and me. I feel — well, I feel like maybe you’re playing games with me.

At first, everything was all glossy and potentially as much as 30% off, but some days, you just seem like you’re high.

And when you give me something? When you give me something, it just seems like you’re trying to get me to give you something back in return.

I’m pretty sure you’re toying with me.

For instance, why would you withhold that $20 until the next time I see you? Why couldn’t you just…

Stephanie Bernaba

Journalist/Photographer. Entertainment, News, and Opinion throughout New England. Former: Entertainment Expert at SheKnows & Redbook. Award-Winning Humorist.

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