Maria Sestito is a former Register reporter and current student at UC Berkeley’s Graduate School of Journalism. She shares her unique perspective on life in her column “Jersey Girl,” which runs every other Sunday. Follow Maria on Twitter @RiaSestito or email her at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Love doesn’t always find you the way you hope it will. In fact, it usually doesn’t. When it comes – if you’re lucky enough for it to come at all – it’s inconvenient, it’s messy, it’s difficult. And, at the same time, it’s so easy.
One teacher can make or break how you feel about a subject. I’ve been lucky in my life to have many great teachers, especially in my English and writing classes. My luck has continued as I’ve found mentors in journalism, including my editors at the Register.
When I walked into my class Thursday morning, everyone in the room started singing. There was a big balloon waiting for me in my spot at the table along with some birthday cards handcrafted by my classmate’s children. (They used their best stickers!) And, when the song was coming to an end, …
I have lived my life amidst a constant stream of checkpoints. I grew up believing that once ‘thing A’ happened, life would really start — that everything would be better.
My last day as a reporter at the Register is Wednesday. It’s been a good run – nearly three years – but it’s time for me to move on. Where am I going? UC Berkeley.
I love roller coasters. Because of this love, I have a season pass to Six Flags, but I hardly ever go. Although it is only a 10 minute drive from my house, I’ve only been there once this season.
I expected last weekend to be full of adventure. Surprisingly enough it was Monday that brought the adventure – the kind of adventure you can only have in the bathroom at work.
A guy recently told me that he wanted to make it into my column. I told him that my next few subjects were already lined up, so he would have to stick around for a few weeks. He found a loophole: he ghosted me.
I’ve never been much of a sports fan, but when my team made it to the Super Bowl, I suddenly became a Phanatic – a Philly Phanatic. (Yes, that’s the baseball team mascot, not the football team. I do know that much, but it works.)
When it comes to writing my column, there aren’t many lines I won’t cross. But, I’ve discovered, just because I’m willing to share details of my personal life, doesn’t mean that my partners, friends and family are.
When the “Me too” movement revived last month it was amidst a whirlwind of wildfires scorching areas of Northern California. I saw my friends on Facebook posting away, joining others who have been sexually harassed or assaulted with either a simple #MeToo or by describing their own experience.
I recently had a night of revivals – Jamestown Revival and The Revivalists performing at Robert Mondavi Winery. Both bands were good, but the special thing about this night was that it was the first of many events I’ll be going to sans a boyfriend.
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My freshman year of college I went to Emerson in Boston, Massachusetts. It wasn’t the best financial choice, but my gut told me to go there. After a few months of being there, though, my gut told me to leave.
Yountville is the last place I expected to be walking barefoot, carrying my shoes in my hand, doing what must have looked like a walk of shame. Except I wasn’t hungover and the shoes weren’t high-heels.
When I decide I’m going to clean, I typically start with my closet. I love to organize and reorganize my clothes, sometimes planning a few outfits ahead of time or even putting a few items in a discard/donate pile. This week when I went through my closet, though, I got a little sad.
After a few failed months living with my ex and a couple of weeks couch surfing, I’m moving into my own place. It’ll be the first time in my life living without some sort of roommate, housemate, live-in boyfriend, ex-boyfriend or parent. And, I gotta say, I’m excited.
It’s not very often that I am able to eat both breakfast and lunch. I’m usually choosing between the two – either I can make a lunch or I can spend that 10 minutes eating a bagel, cereal or granola. I sometimes have a “good” week where I make my lunch every day and, although I’m not eating b…
There was a time in my life when I really loved myself and my look. I was in college, working multiple jobs and at the peak of my confidence. I wasn’t quite rockin’ crop tops, but I was getting there.
Since I’ve lived in California, my diet has consisted of mostly fast food, pizza and the occasional at-home spaghetti. My boyfriend and I have tried to get better at cooking, but it seems that whatever I buy goes bad before I can use it.