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30 November 2008 / April

Stuff

So yesterday I had a sudden hankering to find a particular ring I used to wear, uh, back when I wore jewelry, which I guess was elementary school or early middle school or something.

I found it.  But in the process I also found some other stuff from the same time period, including…

The good cat’s cradle string that I search for periodically and never find.
About $8 in coins, not counting pounds and euros or the copper-plated nickel from Chemistry.
Giraffe button.  I used to collect buttons.  I used to go to JoAnn’s with my mom and make a beeline for the button aisles while she bought cloth and thread for the clothes she used to make for us.  I have all those buttons still.  Someday I will make huge long trench coat and sew on all those buttons and it will be the sexiest thing ever.
Toy boat.  Say it five times fast.
Mini red scissors that don’t cut.
Mini red suitcase that doesn’t hold anything.
Rubber pig.  I have a friend who used to or perhaps still does love pigs (I haven’t talked to her in a while), so one component of my birthday present to her one year was a tiny rubber pig.  And I got one for myself too.
My mother’s wedding ring.  Also her engagement ring.
The bottle of sand I got from my teacher at the end of 5th grade.  Inside was a little message that is now on my bulletin board:

DSCN5197

A wooden cylinder with a smiley face on it.
A silicon cylinder.  No smiley face.
Jewelry. So much jewelry. Some really freaking nice jewelry too.
Erasers.  So many erasers.  I think I might write a novel and then ERASE IT ALL just to use up all my erasers.  (On the other hand, they’re pretty cute…)
A mood ring with dolphins on it, from our stop at Baltimore on the Washington trip in 7th grade.
APRI PUTTY.
The petals of my first rose, which my mom gave me after my first performance in Ithaca Ballet’s Nutcracker in… oh gosh, I guess it must have been 3rd grade.  I was a sheep and a petite mouse, which was basically a role the choreographer made up.  But since I was the smallest I got to do all kinds of cool things, like get caught in the giant mousetrap.  Thus began my love of cheese.
Rocks with my names on them, a rock with a fish painted on it.
Wooden chicken.
Tiny white mouse with pink eyes. I wish I could tell you the story behind this one.

Ideally I would have lovely macro photos of all of this, but I actually have things to do.  Be glad I at least gave you a little context.  It was going to be just a list of stuff that brings back tsunamis of memories for me but is completely meaningless to everyone else, kind of like Faulkner’s writing.

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6 Comments

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  1. Sarah / Nov 30 2008 6:31 pm

    Sexiest Trench Coat Ever!

    On another note, you’ve now inspired me to delve into my past by attempting to sort the junk from the memorabilia (are they the same?) from the stuff worth keeping (also, possibly the same?). If you don’t see me in school tomorrow… or choir Tuesday… or ever again for that matter, be forwarned that it will be your fault. (Have you seen my room? I’m surprised I emerge every day!)
    Lots of Love,
    Sarah

    😀

  2. April / Nov 30 2008 6:51 pm

    I love nostalgia kicks… I’ve barely scratched the surface here, in terms of the sheer amount of stuff I inexplicably seem to own.

    Also you have a point, in that the passage of time makes even junk seem worth keeping (sometimes).

    Also you have a point, in that a trench coat with my entire button collection would indeed be the Sexiest Trench Coat Ever.

    Love!

  3. Kati / Nov 30 2008 9:38 pm

    Yes April.
    Good luck in middle school. But just so you know, the other kiddos might now find trenchcoats covered in buttons as sexy as you do. They might call you a confused, buttony emo sketchio and tell you to go hang out with a certain Karen Andersson. You may find her in dark corners of the auditorium, writing really bad poetry and pretending that she has what she calls a “lost soul”.

  4. April / Dec 1 2008 8:21 am

    You gotta love middle school…

  5. Vicki / Dec 2 2008 3:33 am

    I love digging up miscellaneous items from the past. They always leave you with questions.
    Why do I have so many rubbers?
    What is my ballet teacher implying by squishing me in a giant mouse trap?
    What will I call my new, sexy trench coat line?
    What was my sixth grade teacher trying to say by giving me a note with a love heart on it?
    The questions are endless.

  6. April / Dec 2 2008 10:06 pm

    Hah, so true. And that’s just the beginning…

    (But I shudder to think of what you are implying with your last question. Nooo, my innocent childhood!)

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