I want to spend my New Year’s in Boise, Idaho, watching a giant potato drop. At the start of every year, a 17-foot-long spud made of foam and fiberglass — over 17,000 pounds of Idaho pride — makes its way down from the sky in our city’s quirky twist on the Times Square Ball Drop.
On most nights, I’ll probably be returning from yet another 1 a.m. Brody study session, my headphones in, listening to whatever fits the vibe. Recently, I’ve been listening to Daniel Caesar, because he released a new album, Son of Spergy, on Oct. 24. Caesar’s been quiet for so long that just seeing his name on a new album feels unreal.
Over the summer of 2025, I decided to brave the hundred-degree heat of my hometown near Las Vegas (and its surrounding desert) to return to a hobby that, although dormant for years, has been vastly important over the course of my life: hiking.
It’s common knowledge that the job of Hopkins students is to complain about every exam and administrative decision ever made. I’ve found myself starting to participate in this culture as well. “Why was the orgo exam harder, even with the increased grade boundary? Why are my portions at Nolan’s so much smaller this year?”
In 2026, I’m going to stop believing I owe anyone anything beyond my own peace. I want to stop doing things out of obligation or guilt and start making space for what truly aligns with my energy. I’m learning that happiness isn’t something others can give you — it’s something you create for yourself.
Most people dream of sunlit beaches or bustling cities for their next adventure, but I want to go where TikTok only shows the most terrifying whiplash: the infamous Drake Passage Cruise to Antarctica. The Drake Passage connects the Pacific, Atlantic and Southern Ocean.