What if instead of asking for material gifts, we all asked for more experiences together? So often after the holidays, I feel overwhelmed by the amount of stuff that’s now cluttering my house. I appreciate the sentiment in every gift I receive. But sometimes, I really don’t need another coffee mug. How many cups of coffee can I drink at once? Not seven, that’s for sure.
I’m someone who always says she’s not that interested in art. But that’s actually a lie. Maybe I don’t know a valuable piece of art when I see one and maybe I don’t find art museums particularly enthralling, but I definitely value the arts. Art extends way beyond paintings and sculptures.
Wine used to be a very classy drink—or at least that’s how I interpreted it when I was younger. All of the names sounded so fancy: Sauvignon blanc, Riesling, Chardonnay, Merlot. So it must be fancy people drinking them, right?
In a perfect world, I would tally all of your votes for Local Faves, see which local businesses won and then go out and test the winners to make sure they’re worthy. I’d enjoy tons of delicious food and shop all the best boutiques. I would meet the who’s-who of Stark County and try all of the top-tier services. I’d enjoy all kinds of festivals and fun.
It has been almost 10 years since I started my first day of college. I remember being bogged down by my backpack that held my laptop, a notebook for every class and every book needed for those classes, plus my lunch. I was a commuter if you couldn’t guess. And I was just like every other freshman, easily spotted from a mile away with a dumbfounded look on my face and class schedule in my hands.
A few months ago during one of our weekly library trips, Austin perused the new nonfiction section and brought home “Why We Sleep” by Matthew Walker. For the next few weeks, I was bombarded with all kinds of sleep knowledge, some of which I would rather not have known.
When I sat down to write this, I was two paragraphs into a story about how much I love pizza and ate it almost every day while on vacation when my phone buzzed with sad news of my boyfriend’s grandmother’s passing.
Remember when we were kids and we took Valentine’s to school to give to our classmates? And we decorated boxes to hold all of the Valentine’s we received. Do kids still do that?
With the start of each new year, we make resolutions. We say that this year will be the year that we stick to our plans. But what are we resolving to do? Is it another lousy attempt at getting fit and healthy? Is it a half-hearted approach at learning a new skill?
When I was growing up, I always had a long list of things I wanted for Christmas. I’d start mentioning gifts I wanted in October, hoping that the news would make its way to Santa. When I got older, it didn’t stop. It may have gotten worse.
