The Cornell Daily Sun (https://cornellsun.com/author/gabyleung/page/5/)
I will begin by acknowledging that I’ve always struggled with math and science courses. I don’t know whether it was my difficulty with the subjects that led me to hate them, or my hatred towards the subjects that caused me to suffer. Either way, these courses were never my forte. When I was in elementary school, I looked forward to art class the most. I waited for the time of day when I was free to draw or paint or sculpt.
“You go thrift store shopping? That’s so cool. You have to take me!”
I would always hesitate after this exclamation in high school, and it was not from being caught in a lie — I am, indeed, an avid thrifter. The hesitation came from thinking whether or not to respond with, “Yes, of course!” or, “Would you still want to come with me after knowing what it’s really like? Do you enjoy the smell of alcohol that workers use to cover the stench of wreaking clothes, the traffic jam of women over 65 blocking the aisles and the severed heads of dolls and dirty wigs that hang off the racks?
I’ve always been a person who would gladly choose a physical copy of a book over any other online source. The smell of the book, the tangible feel of flipping the pages and the act of dog-earing corners is lost when it comes to an ebook. My stand for “real books” over ebooks extends to my love for hand-written letters. Even though text messaging, Facebook Messenger and Facetime has made it easier to converse with others electronically, I think it’s important to bring back the art of handwritten letters. There is something immensely intimate about writing — and receiving — a handwritten letter.