Did I say before that when I was in the hospital having Birdie our basement flooded? I'm too lazy to go look back. Anyway, our sump pump decided to work only intermittently, and we ended up with like four inches of water in the basement (or so I was told, I never saw it.)
There was no saving a bunch of stuff. All our luggage was wrecked, our fake christmas tree grew rust on some branches, and a bunch of boxes got moldy. In those boxes were mostly paperback books and some children's books (not a huge loss, though I regret moving them so many times now that I've just thrown them out!) But there were two boxes that bum me out. One had t-shirts from high school in it. They were from all the shows I was in and all the festivals I attended (drama geek here.) The other box had my yearbooks in it. I know I can probably get replacement yearbooks, but I can't replace the inscriptions.
There's a part of me that doesn't mind too much. Most of high school was miserable for me. I had problems and my friends turned on me when I needed them most (though, to be fair, I had big problems, not regular teen issues, and it would be a lot for them to deal with.) Still, there were pockets of fun and goodness that I'm disappointed to have to rely on my memory alone for. My memory is both great and sucktastic.
I wonder sometimes if I'm stunted in the adult friend-making department or if we're all this way. I find myself craving mommy friends (well, friends in general, but the baby opens up a new realm of possibilities for me) and I'm trying. I'm really trying. I try to strike up conversations when I can (do you like your stroller? that's a great hat! how old is your baby?) but so far I haven't really gotten anywhere with this technique. Oh well. Eventually. Maybe.
If you're the woman from B&N with the chubby seven-month-old with great eyes, I liked meeting you, even if it was just for a few minutes. Thanks for sitting by me, it totally made me feel like less of a loser!