I’ve always been painfully sentimental. As a kid, I’d do little things like asking my mother to stop the car so I could go flip a turtle over after it got stuck on its back; I’d probe my grandmother for stories about her life out of an oddball desire to better understand life “back then”; I was prohibited from touching stuffed animals at stores because once I touched one, we had a bond and it would be so sad if we just left it there. (I swear that last one wasn’t an attempt to get more toys, I was just disturbingly thorough in applying human emotions and empathy to all people, places, and things.) Continue reading All Singing, All Dancing
My first attempt at moving internationally was about 10 years ago, to Paris, France, when I first started university.
Almost as soon as I arrived, I realized that France was, in fact, not where I wanted to be. After about a month, I’d withdrawn from college and made my way home, back to NJ, suitcases in tow. Continue reading The Joy of No Things