Wow. Can you believe it’s been a year that we’ve been doing this? I can’t. I especially can’t believe I’ve thought of a new idea nearly every week. That’s some dedication I didn’t know I had.
It’s been a fun year, but I’m here to give all my readers some sad news: I’m taking a small sabbatical from writing for the The Wheelhouse Review. I know! Tears and riots! But before you grab your pitchfork and head towards the street and demand that Congress declare this a day of mourning and have the president issue an executive order for my immediate return, know the reasons I’m doing this. 1) I’m swamped with work, life, and everything in between from now until the end of my sabbatical, which will be sometime in July, and 2) I’m doing this so I can return refreshed. reenergized, and blow your minds with awesome new material about books, the Simpsons, and very little else.
Think of it this way: remember in school we had summer break, a chance to take some time off, grab a job and a summer romance, bask in the sun and shirk responsibility for a couple of months? Well, this is my summer break. And to commemorate my year at the Wheelhouse and say hello to the summer, I present you… Sarah’s Yearbook.
In the information age we currently live in, you’re expected to know everything, all at once, and as soon as it happens. This can be more than a little exhausting, and (as the Internet tells me), a common problem that is also unhealthy. But it’s still seemingly a necessity, and frankly, one I still enjoy. I like being able to read about and comment on a variety of social trends and current events, as well as historical happenings and their relation to both the past and present.
However, it is physically impossible to know everything. Physical impossible both because there is simply not enough time to become omniscience, and also because we humans can’t actually maintain that level of information. This is difficult for me as a Twitter-checking, Google Reader mourning, Quora event running, book club khaleesi to admit, but I have to face the facts.
To be completely honest, there are some things that everyone really does know, but that I simply did not learn the first few times around. Some items in the following list may surprise you, some may make you question how I have functioned as an adult, and some you may not have even known yourself. I hope it’s not the middle option too many times.
Five years ago, I made the decision to buy a Kindle. This was out of the ordinary for me for two reasons. One, I’m not an early adopter of anything, and Kindles were the hot* new thing, having only been out for about six months. Two, as a reader, getting a Kindle was seen as a betrayal of sorts. They were (and still are) called book killers, the death of writing, and all sorts of evil things. But after weighing the pros and cons, and thinking about it for months, I took the plunge and bought one.
This is a common exchange. Perhaps it’s one you have had yourself. I know that it’s one I have engaged in frequently. In fact, earlier this week my friend Andrew and I had a lengthy discussion about which rendition of Game of Thrones is better: the book series or the television show*.
And more and more, I’m beginning to see that this is usually a pointless conversation.
Spring is here! Or, it’s almost here! Maybe. Don’t pack your coats up just yet, but get ready to.
And get ready for parties! After a long winter of hibernation and binge-watching all the shows, it’s time to emerge, shake off the Doritos crumbs, and re-enter society. That means, unfortunately, it’s time for small talk.
If there’s one thing The Wheelhouse Review hates, it’s small talk. No matter whoyou are, talking about jobs/weather/pets/hometown repeatedly is a waste of time and effort for both the listener and the talker. Oh, you work in finance and are from Ohio? My first reactions to these are “Liar’s Poker” and “James Garfield” respectively, and I can tell you, those topics aren’t exactly conversation starters. They’re conversations stoppers.