Just found the MOTHER LODE: the last box of my shit (yes, shit) that was allowed to stay in my parents' basement. Forget that my brother still has a ROOM full of junk - my box was no longer welcome.
While attempting to locate my high school diary (to subject myself to more internet humiliation), I remembered that this castaway box had yet to be explored. Diary Schmiary. This is the good stuff. I would like to scan and share all of it now-now-NOW because it's just too ridiculous to keep to myself for much longer. But, well, it's a good 25 years or so of pure embarrassment/awesomeness, and will demand a good chunk of my non-existent time. More soon, I promise!
Contents of the box include (but are not limited to): high school ID cards, 1998 bus pass, letters written (but never sent) to ex-boyfriends, letters from ex-boyfriends, letters from my Ethiopian pen pal, my petrified prom corsage, movie stubs to 'Airheads' and 'Austin Powers', Best Actress trophy 1990 (I played one fierce wicked stepmother WITH A SOLO), my Subway Sandwich Artist name tag, Swimming badges, Girl Guides of Canada membership card, valentines from my Grandmother circa the 80s, a copy of the July 1996 issue of Seventeen (cover story: "What you don't know about Jared Leto").
By the way, if you were my friend at any point between 1986 and 1998 and you ever sent me a letter, card, valentine, love note, written apology, drawing, invitation or postcard, I PROBABLY STILL HAVE IT. Ask me. Vicky, I have so much dirt on you. (How's THAT for a blog-mention, you attention-whore?)
The box also contained this:
Did any of you do this in high school? I laughed at my girlfriend Leah for keeping hers, but it seems that I'm equally guilty of hoarding* tendencies.
Anyway, this find is particularly hilarrr because my NUMBER ONE MATCH (!!!) would go on to be the singer in my future husband's band. You'll recognize the name, no doubt.
Hubby is miffed about this (and also for not making the list), I think. You may remember that we attended the same school? I doubt he participated anyway. While I was a joiner (SCHOOL SPIRIT! YEAH!), he had disdain for joining and cheering. Also, he had a scuzzy goatee. It wouldn't have worked.
Unfortunately, THIS guy didn't make the list:
(*my grandmother literally was a hoarder, as in the worst of the worst of the worst on the TLC program by the same name. It's sad. It's hereditary. Since I don't want to die on piles of newspapers and cat feces, my stuff-attachment is now in check.)