during a mother-mandated purging of my childhood closet:
- A slammin’ cranberry velvet dress from the 90s..
- 20 concert tickets to local hardcore shows with headlining acts like: SubZero, Throwdown, The Red Chord, As I Lay Dying, et al.
- Countless cards proclaiming endless love from an ex-boyfriend (that I still won’t throw out).
- Countless MySpace-style photos with said ex-boyfriend where we are either kissing or looking super hardcore or a combination of the two. Kept those, too.
- A wooden turtle and a wooden elephant, thought to be long gone, purchased on a museum trip on the birthday of a certain Tumblr follower. I believe one was named Guillermo?
- A “Kiss me, I’m straightedge” pin
- A student film I was in called “Slice”.
- About a dozen DVR tapes from 2001.
- Pictures from Halloween at 12th Street in 2004.
- A picture of me and Tim Mahoney, guitarist for 311.
And that was only two boxes.
A super nerdy contest is held yearly asking folks to come up with the worst possible opening sentence for a novel that they can muster. The results are often quite funny. One of my personal favorites is below. Can you guess why?
Joanne watched her fellow passengers - a wizened man reading about alchemy; an oversized bearded man-child; a haunted, bespectacled young man with a scar; and a gaggle of private school children who chatted ceaselessly about Latin and flying around the hockey pitch and the two-faced teacher who they thought was a witch - there was a story here, she decided.
Thoughts rolling about in my noggin pertaining to possible birthday celebrations for myself:
- 1990s Nickelodeon-themed party
- Trip to Montreal