lost treasures of the andreaolithic

So, yeah, I was down in the basement cleaning again the other day. As much as I like to blame the hoarding problem on my dad (RIP), since he cannot defend himself, the truth is, a lot of the crap down there *is* mine and D's. Case in point, I excavated a few boxes of glassware that were never unpacked when we moved here. Proof? All the breakables were wrapped in newspapers from 1995. And, no, I did not stop to read what was going on back then when I was unwrapping it all, though it was tempting. That's the kind of procrastination technique we here at casa Andrea try to avoid.

While I was unwrapping and unpacking and trying to make a decision about whether I was going to keep any of this crap (answer: no) or donate it all, I had it all lined up on the basement stairs. I almost climbed over it and went upstairs to get my camera, so I could share. As much as I would like to think I am not the kind of person who ever owned a.) music boxes b.) four matching cat-themed porcelain mugs or c.) one of those light-up ceramic Xmas trees, the proof is in a donation box downstairs. In my defense, the fact that all that shit was never unpacked suggests I didn't ever even want it. One cannot help what other people give one. I mostly blame my former M-I-L (RIP). She meant well, but that woman had the worst taste of anyone I have ever met. You know what else I found? Some giant margarita glasses, still with the Princess House stickers on them. OMG. I think I was roped into having a "crystal party" at one time in the early 90s, but I had mercifully blocked it from my memory. Can you people imagine me as the sort of person who would ever have a crystal party? I swear, at one point I tried to fit in with the other mommies, but it was hopeless.

And finally, I found some more shredding for D to do for me. I guess I don't need my bank statements from 1993. He's been doing it for an hour or so every night since I gave it to him. There's only so much of that you can do at once. Shredding is really tedious. Well, this morning I came down to find a pile of polaroids on my coffee table, that he apparently found in the box. Pictures of me from that era call up a lot of emotions: oh, look, remember when I was young and pretty? along with OMFG, the *hair*. But you know what shocked me? I had bags and circles under my eyes even then. If I looked like that in candid photos when I was 30-ish, I can only imagine what I look like now.

Plus, my vagina is atrophying. In case you forgot.

Love you!

xoxo