I love...old sweatshirts.

Want to know what I'm wearing?

A sweatshirt.

Not just any sweatshirt - it's a sweatshirt that I've owned since my freshman year of college. I got it when I went for orientation. It's gray with large letters on the front that read: BGSU. It was my first "I'm in college" clothing item.

This sweatshirt has been with me through a lot. I wore it to class. I wore it when I didn't go to class. I wore it to bed. I wore it on walks. I wore it when I was sick. I wore it inside out and outside in.

Today the sleeve hems are torn, it's faded, there's a slight hand print in white paint on the back of it and small pen marks on the front of it.

Other sweatshirts have come and gone. But this one has managed to make it through all of my moves and my closet cleanouts.

I know there's more to this sweatshirt than the cloth that it's made of. There are the moments that happened when I was wearing it. Like the moment my friend put her painted hand print on the back of it (ahem, moose...), and the moment I accidentally marked it for the first time with pen (...and then marked it a second time).

There's a lot of warmth, a lot of comfort and a lot of memories wrapped up in this old sweatshirt. And now, on a chilly Wedneday night more than 10 years after I first got this sweatshirt, I'm wrapped up in all of that, too. And it feels good, no great, no...it feels sweatshirtastic.