Trip and fall down memory lane

Packing for the big move continues. And the more stuff I go through, the more I realize a) I own lots of dust-covered stuff that I have never used b) I own lots of dust-covered stuff that I will never use c) I own far more dust than previously thought.

But the adventure through the dust storms has proved to be enjoyable nonetheless. Mainly because I keep stumbling over my belongings from yesteryear, and consequently stumbling into nostalgia-filled dazes.

EXHIBIT A: Giant saucer-shapped glasses, four pairs

The problem with having been an child in need of corrective lenses in the eighties is that the only corrective lenses available to us were fashioned by myopic design deliquents. If you are currently in your twenties or thirties, I challenge you to look through your class photos from that time. I guarantee the kids in the glasses look more like they are wearing either coke bottles held together with rejected scraps of thick pastel plastic (80s), or small glass saucers held together with rejected scraps of thin secondary-couloured, and/or gold-coloured metal (90s). In each case, the diameter of each lense will be no less than 37.5 cm.

EXHIBIT B: Locked diary (read: Easily-picked diary) from grades six through eight

Now this is what I call infotainment! I have information on every single one of my crushes, my ups, my downs, my friends, and our (countless) break-ups and make-ups. As for entertainment, as if trying to decode my ten-year old monkey scratch isn't fun enough, my take on reality and understanding of what constitutes solid literary content is sure to make anyone laugh. And then cry. And then laugh again. Oh, to be a preteen girl again. I would not wish it on my worst enemy.

Do I hear you clammering for an excerpt? Too bad. Here's one anyway. Names have been changed to protect the guilty.

FROM THE DESK OF PRETEEN GREEN MANGO

June 4, [the grade seven year of our Lord]

Dear Diary:
. . . Math class seems to be a very popular place for talking. In math class Annie asked me if I wore bras and I said "You can see it can't you?"
"Yes I can, at least you can wear one."
"Anyone can wear one."
"I can't"
"Yes you can."
"Green Mango, 28 is too big for me!"
"So, I was 26 at the beginning of the year."
"You grow fast."

. . .

Thanks for noticing, Annie.

~and that, boys and girls, was the very last time g. mango wore a bra