I went through a box in our garage today... This is a box of things, mostly from my Senior year of High School, that I packed away before going off to college. And then once I had my own permanent place, my mother (basically) threatened to throw everything from my bedroom away unless I removed it immediately. So I packed up this box, without examining its contents, and placed it in a forgotten place in our garage.
Full of who knows what.
Well now I know what.
Really really important things I just knew I'd want to save.
Like all my AP class notes/assignments/tests.
And all my awesomely folded, secretly-passed-during-class notes. (written in unreadably, brightly-colored ink)
Random ballet poses (some of which I still think are cool, but what do I do with them?)
a super creepy picture of my old physics teacher?!
Some birthday cards (why did everyone seem to know about my 17th birthday? Emily Laverne? Was it you?)
And all my NSYNC related items.
Even though I am throwing away MOST of it, it's funny that some of it I still can't part with. (okay, you got me. I'm keeping my calc stuff...)
However, I found something SO amazing. SO fortuitous! SO unappreciated! Something I had totally forgotten about. Something that I actually complained to Jay about, wishing I had had enough foresight to create. Something so important that I will never ever throw away.
(yes, you heard me)
(along with photocopies of my hands (I forgot about that ring I used to wear all the time), socked-foot, and hair/cheek. I seem to recall now that my parents recently got a copy machine. So I, of course, had to try it out. And then, evidently, save the evidence of this momentous occasion for my posterity.)
Seriously! I can't believe how lucky I am! I was so sad after my pregnancy with The Frog that I never appreciated my belly button before it became this sad, deformed, droopy, wrinkled looking mess. (and I didn't think it possible, but it's worse now after Peach...) And I could hardly remember what it used to look like. How sad to forget a part of yourself like that.
Now whenever I need to feel good about myself- relive the glory days of my perfect little high school body, I have my time-machine.
Now whenever I need to really prove a point to my children about what I sacrificed for them, I will have hard, cold, evidence!
Only one question remains. Where could one appropriately frame and display such a picture?