Having moved in with my parents, I’ve turned what were once their living and dining rooms into a Kristin warehouse. In an effort to take up as small a space as possible I started repacking things. The ultimate goal is to get the boxes ready to be loaded onto a moving truck and hauled up north as soon as I have a job and a place to live. (Apparently my brother thought I was going to find a place to live and then get a job, but I just don’t see how that’s feasible.)
Because I don’t always make the best choices I decided that the first thing I should tackle is my Big Box ‘o Barbies.
The problem with that choice is that as soon as I opened the box I wanted nothing more than to play with my Barbies. But I (pretty much) managed to ignore that temptation. Until, that is, I opened the red plastic bag that’s even with all the Barbie furniture in that picture.
You see, the contents of that bag were truly outrageous.
That’s right, I found my Jem dolls! They’re slightly weirder than I remember, actually, due to their shoulder and wrist joints. But still, Jem! I may have taken a minute or two to change Jem’s clothes 🙂
Unfortunately I had to put everything back in the giant green tub because my parents were expecting a contractor and I couldn’t very well leave the Barbie Explosion out. It was still the highlight of my day, though.
My high school English teacher, the aforementioned T. David, had a pocket-sized edition of the Oxford English Dictionary that he claimed to have with him at all times. He said it was very helpful when he came across a new word while reading. He was so fond of his tiny OED that one of the first homework assignments he gave us was to buy a pocket-sized dictionary of our very own which was to be deposited in our respective backpacks. (Mine stayed in my backpack for at least a decade. It’s currently somewhere in my office.)
At the time, the whole thing felt like some dumb thing our weird teacher made us do. Who needs to carry a dictionary around at all times? It turns out that I do. Granted, my dictionary now comes in the shape of an app on my phone, but it’s an app I use all the time. All the time. Like today, when I looked at the word “currency” on the rec I was working on and became convinced that it was spelled incorrectly. A few quick taps on my phone assured me that it was correct and I stopped worrying about it.
It’s so strange to look back and realize that your weird high school English teacher was right about something, but it happens.
I asked my parents if they remembered what happened five years ago tonight. Disappointingly, neither of them got anywhere close to the correct answer: the Phillies won the World Series.
I listened to the morning after episode of Preston & Steve at work today. It was quite the trip down memory lane. It made me feel feelings, too, which wasn’t the best plan. (I didn’t really want to be that weird new girl who cries at her desk while listening to her iPod.)
It’s amazing how much of that old Preston & Steve show I remember. But then again, so much of that week between the end of the World Series and Election Day is imprinted on my brain. I know I mentioned this last year, but I still remember so clearly sitting on my couch after Lidge struck Hinske out and thinking, “so this is what this feels like.” (Interestingly, the same thing happened after Obama was elected five years ago.) I remember driving to work the next morning and seeing a plane take off (my first job down here was very close to the airport) and thinking seriously about taking off the next day to fly home for the parade. I didn’t, though, because I was poor (or so I thought at the time), I didn’t actually get days off as a temp (and I’d just come back from a five-day family trip to Disney), and I was going home in two weeks for my cousin’s wedding. (I had a miserable time at that wedding, having gotten shitfaced with my friends in West Chester the night before. Yay for bad decisions!)
And now I have to go to bed.