Sunday, August 14, 2005
Since I haven't lived with my parents for almost ten years now, and since they haven't updated the decor in probably twice that long, my house in Quincy has become a veritable treasure trove (that's right, I used both the word "veritable" and the phrase "treasure trove") of useless and ridiculous artifacts from my childhood. Because I love you (but not enough to post regularly), I've taken some snapshots from this strange and wonderful Museum of Me.
Apparently I enjoyed plagiarising from M.C. Escher (not to be confused with M.C. Hammer; the difference is in the pants) even at an early age. Note the sophisticated use of sharpie.
For some reason, I have a large collection of Pocahontas action figures from Burger King, seen here acting out a scene from Disney's The Lion King.
Yes, my parents have kept all of my trophies, including the dangerously pointy one from the good people at MathCounts. It's important to have documentary evidence of the fact that you are a huge nerd.
When I was in fourth grade I loved latchhooking for reasons that defy explanation. It was a youthful folly, like playing doctor with your cousin Kelly or watching Growing Pains. But at least we have this wonderful baboon-shaped puppy rug to show for it.
