J is for Junk
Yesterday I was digging/cleaning under my bed and trying to narrow down what really could go in the trash. I have a couple boxes down there that have been packed exactly as they are since I was 18. Full of letters, scribbles, yearbooks and pictures. I opened this 1960's wooden box purse and found a rat nest of stupid keepsakes. Here's a glance:
There are candy wrappers, school ribbons, notes from boys, a nice magazine picture of Scott Baio (ha!), bits of Christmas paper. Some of it is ridiculous, like a cotton candy holder or a piece of gum inside a paper. I don't know the significance of half these things.
I recognize a piece of plastic from the motorcycle helmet of a boy I liked---he dropped/busted the helmet while he was standing there talking to me, and I grabbed the piece, carried around all day, and then STORED IT FOR 25 YEARS. I see a feather someone dropped in a parade, but no idea which parade.
I used to cut out the newspaper ads for movies I saw, so there are several here for Empire Strikes Back. We lived down the street from a theater the year that came out, and my sisters and I saw it repeatedly. I remember leaving the theater each time thinking, oh, what will become of Han Solo! How many years will we have to wait to find out??!!