The Pit

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How do you even begin to describe the state of The Pit.

First, take the wardrobe of three high-maintinence girls in various states of cleanliness, fling them across the room, draped on lamps, heaped on beds and scattered everywhere. Toss in eighty-odd pairs of shoes, hidden in the snarls of clothing, laid out carefully to shish-kabob your feet. Add enough make-up to showcase the entire first female regiment of the Army. Then shake this up, really, really hard. Make it ten times worse and you might have an inkling of what our room looks like.

Last night, we girls braved all this in the quest of order, organization and the priviledge of actually being able to find our clothes. While complete order was not restored, it was rather amusing to watch us clean out our closet and take a trip down memory lane.

Paticularly great highlights of the time capsule:

A cd labeled "Love Songs." At this paticular point in our lives, we were very love-deprived. So it is filled with psudo-love songs, sad songs and everything else but the real thing. We were trying!

Pictures from back when... we had bad hair, couldn't dress and thought CI's were social events. We cringed, thought about burning them, but instead plastered them to our "wall of shame."

Barrel Racing Trophy. Ask Joy.

Two hundred and three mouse chewed tootsie rolls from bus visitations back when. No wonder the mice are so fat, happy and flourishing.

A stuffed rabbit leg. Again, ask Joy.

If you could have only been there! We laughed, we cried and we were truly moved. And, of course, I had an allergy attack from all the dust. What fun.

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

the past


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