Between the Thighs

Over several pitchers of crisp, cold beer last night The Philosopher and I learned we share the same fear. There may come a day in our futures when we will be unable to see through our thighs. And it scares us. I'm pretty sure Farmer Ted and the Coach think we're nuts but for us, that gap, that slice of space represents stability. We may not be in the greatest shape but the gap is still there, and our sanity in place.

In other news I've spent the weekend organizing mementos. Its amazing what you collect over time and the crap you deem special. For instance, I found the Asshole's braid of hair he gave me when he chopped it off, along with pictures of him posing with his AK-47. Nice! Its these moments when I ask myself what the f%$# was I thinking? Gangsta bitch! It is still in my hope chest. (Why are they even referred to as hope chests?) I couldn't bring myself to toss it. I feel that if its gone, that part of my life is gone. And while that was a horrible time for me I'm not willing to forget that I lived through it. Make sense? The Philosopher agreed which was helpful since we shared a similar hell.

I found a brand new Prosser High School blanket that my father told me to NEVER use! "Tis a keepsake!" he said. Well, I called him. I told him its been ten years and its going to be utilized. Why? Why would I want to keep a crappy high school blanket in pristine condition? For what?

Love letters. What do you do with them? I'm thinking of blogging them since they are too funny to keep to myself. Again, what was I thinking in my choice of boys? Stories to come soon.

Found mixed tapes and CDs from Valentine's Day past. GREAT! I put those with my Jetson's movie soundtrack tape and Oly band demos from the mid 90s. Now if I only had a cassette player...

Listening to Beastie Boys throughout it all.