Stories of My Favorite Things

In the summer, flying from Long Island to Dallas is no small feat. The exhilaration of coming home makes the move worth while. Stepping off the plane on your hometown airport meant more now that college is coming to a close. I walked into my home and was tackled and smothered by my brother. He always knew how to give hugs and injure you. Soon after my mother tried to feed me everything in the refrigerator. Throughout the rest of the sweltering summer, I tried my best to soak up all of the friend and family time I leave behind in the fall and spring. But my home wouldn’t be my home if I wasn’t there by midnight. There is something otherworldly about picking up a Michael Kors handbag. I’ve always had a fascination with stuffing my valuables in the biggest purse on my shoulder. Maybe it’s the texture of the inner material or the compliments I receive when I walk around a store with it. Whatever that feeling is, I can’t get enough. My bank account however can. I have yet to own a Michael Kors bag but that does not stop me from window shopping. It breaks my heart now but in the long run, I think I’ll be ok.

Although I have not played it in years, I adore volleyball. My forearms thank me for taking this long hiatus but my body misses the activity. It was one of the best ways for me to develop new friendships. When you watch the back of the girl next to you, she is likely to have a better appreciation for you. The sport taught me endurance, determination, teamwork and sportsmanship. It also helped me get over the crush of rejection. I don’t miss him but I do miss the satisfied feeling of hitting that ball over the net.