A precious item
Aug. 20th, 2010 06:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jedusorDay 01 - Introduce yourself
Day 02 – Your first love
Day 03 – Your parents
Day 04 – Your music
Day 05 – Your definition of love
Day 06 – Your hobbies
Day 07 – Your best friend
Day 08 – A precious item
Day 09 – Your beliefs
Day 10 – An inspiration
Day 11 – Your siblings
Day 12 – What’s in your bag
Day 13 – Your mode of transportation
Day 14 – Where you live
Day 15 – Something you love about yourself
Day 16 – Your first kiss
Day 17 – Your favorite memory
Day 18 – Your favorite birthday
Day 19 – Something you regret
Day 20 – Your morning routine
Day 21 – Your job and/or schooling
Day 22 – Something that upsets you
Day 23 – Something that makes you feel better
Day 24 – Something that makes you cry
Day 25 – Your sleeping habits
Day 26 – Your fears
Day 27 – Your favorite place
Day 28 – Something that you miss
Day 29 – Your favorite foods/drinks
Day 30 – Your aspirations
In July of 2002, I went to Vancouver with my mom for my first ever National Puzzlers' League convention. On Sunday after the con, we drove to Seattle to stay with Josh and Megan, family friends we met through Bill. Monday, I turned twelve. That Wednesday, Sam (a friend about six years older than me) picked me up, dyed my hair purple for the first time, and took me to my first rock concert: They Might Be Giants at the Fillmore in San Francisco. This was also my first time going somewhere for several days with friends, rather than adult chaperones. (Anyone who knew Sam at eighteen knows she didn't count as an adult.) After the show, I doe-eyed the stage hand into giving me the towel Flansburgh had been using to wipe off sweat during the performance.
I'm not positive that I still have that towel. Mom sent me a box of things when she moved to Chicago that look like the things I kept it with, so maybe she tossed it out then without realizing what it was. It's also possible that it's in California with the pile of stuff I left there. It doesn't really matter; the thing itself isn't important. What's important is the time it symbolizes; that week was a huge turning point in my life.
Things in general aren't as important as experiences. There's a significant body of research supporting this--people aren't as happy about possessions as they are about memories. My valuable objects all either remind me of memories (photographs, sweat-soaked towels, my lightbulb-adorned mortarboard) or help me make new memories (laptop, camera, juggling equipment), and I try not to acquire too many objects that don't.
Day 02 – Your first love
Day 03 – Your parents
Day 04 – Your music
Day 05 – Your definition of love
Day 06 – Your hobbies
Day 07 – Your best friend
Day 08 – A precious item
Day 09 – Your beliefs
Day 10 – An inspiration
Day 11 – Your siblings
Day 12 – What’s in your bag
Day 13 – Your mode of transportation
Day 14 – Where you live
Day 15 – Something you love about yourself
Day 16 – Your first kiss
Day 17 – Your favorite memory
Day 18 – Your favorite birthday
Day 19 – Something you regret
Day 20 – Your morning routine
Day 21 – Your job and/or schooling
Day 22 – Something that upsets you
Day 23 – Something that makes you feel better
Day 24 – Something that makes you cry
Day 25 – Your sleeping habits
Day 26 – Your fears
Day 27 – Your favorite place
Day 28 – Something that you miss
Day 29 – Your favorite foods/drinks
Day 30 – Your aspirations
In July of 2002, I went to Vancouver with my mom for my first ever National Puzzlers' League convention. On Sunday after the con, we drove to Seattle to stay with Josh and Megan, family friends we met through Bill. Monday, I turned twelve. That Wednesday, Sam (a friend about six years older than me) picked me up, dyed my hair purple for the first time, and took me to my first rock concert: They Might Be Giants at the Fillmore in San Francisco. This was also my first time going somewhere for several days with friends, rather than adult chaperones. (Anyone who knew Sam at eighteen knows she didn't count as an adult.) After the show, I doe-eyed the stage hand into giving me the towel Flansburgh had been using to wipe off sweat during the performance.
I'm not positive that I still have that towel. Mom sent me a box of things when she moved to Chicago that look like the things I kept it with, so maybe she tossed it out then without realizing what it was. It's also possible that it's in California with the pile of stuff I left there. It doesn't really matter; the thing itself isn't important. What's important is the time it symbolizes; that week was a huge turning point in my life.
Things in general aren't as important as experiences. There's a significant body of research supporting this--people aren't as happy about possessions as they are about memories. My valuable objects all either remind me of memories (photographs, sweat-soaked towels, my lightbulb-adorned mortarboard) or help me make new memories (laptop, camera, juggling equipment), and I try not to acquire too many objects that don't.
