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.