#73- Hoodies

My computer chair is no longer suitable for sitting on any more.

The hoodies on said chair have taken it over and appear to have formed some sort of symbiotic relationship with the chair that does not allow me to pry them off. I am currently conducting research into the possible benefits of this phenomenon.

Okay, this isn't actually the reason, but it is true that my hoodies are piled so high on my chair that it makes it difficult to sit comfortably on it.

If you know me, you know that I love wearing hoodies, the immensely comfortable and fashionably questionable sweaters. I wear them almost every time I go to run errands or went to school. Once the harsh Ottawa winter hits they are pretty much my best friend (sorry everyone else, avoiding frostbite is a top priority for me). So I don't see much point in hanging them up in my closet when I'm just going to use them again (again, sorry mom, that sentence must pain you). I guess I love hoodies so much I have unconsciously build a little nest of them around me.

But what is there not to love? Other than the aforementioned warm and snuggly feeling hoodies give you, they also provide a chance, like any clothing, to be original or show your true style and character. They come in all colours, sizes and styles.

Also, since I wear them so often, my hoodies have taken on a major role in my nostalgia department. I look at my maroon and navy blue striped hoodie and remember my 19th birthday, the day I got it as a gift from my girlfriend. I zip up my faded, beat up, brown sweater I wear to the gym and remember all the workouts with friends or peacefully alone. Or I pull my J-school hoodie over my head and flashbacks of the last four years explode in my mind.

So I am grateful for hoodies. I am grateful for their warmth and comfort. I am grateful that they allow me to express myself and let me remember my past and carry the good times around with me. And I am grateful they let me proudly wear this past right there on my chest. And because of all this, I don't mind sharing my chair with my hoodies one bit. 

#54- Goodwill

I've seen it done many times before on TV shows, but I never really believed it would happen to me. 

Last week, my dad took a few boxes of clothing to Goodwill to give away and amongst those boxes was about half of my clothes. Somehow, when my mom had been storing them for the summer until I went back to school, they had been mixed up with the give away pile and shipped out. I didn't notice until a week later and it was too late to retrieve any of my clothes.

Giving away half my clothes is no big deal really. I have more than enough shirts and pants and everything, but a lot of those clothes had memories attached to them. One sweater was a gift from my girlfriend; another was my journalism hoodie from first year. It's that sort of stuff that made me pretty sad about giving my clothes away. 

But what made me feel a lot better was the fact that my clothes went to Goodwill. My clothes had not been stolen, burned in a fire or anything like that, but instead had gone to someone else who was able to get some clothes because of my unfortunate circumstance and would, in turn, be able to create their own memories with the things I had attached such nostalgia to.  

So I am grateful for Goodwill. I am grateful that there was a silver lining to my negative experience and that Goodwill made that possible. I am grateful for the people who run Goodwill and the opportunity for people to give their clothes away rather than let them hang in their closets unused. And I am grateful that my memories will not be lost with my clothes, but will instead multiply with the people who now own them.