It's like 3 am and I am boxing up some old journals to be stored in my parents basement until I can find some efficient way to destroy them. I stumbled across a certifcate I received in the 5th Grade for being a, um, "Star Student." I have no idea what this entailed, but I sure didn't get one in high school. You know, when it actually might have, I don't know, MATTERED.
Anyway, I'm thinking that after I have my corner power-office at the top of some New York office building I should have it professionally framed and I should hang it next to my various degrees from assorted ivy-league universities.
It would be charming. There is a dog in a drum major's outfit marching behind a police dog in apolice car in the border. Also some dogs on a tandem bike. It's pretty classy. Also, I have apparently held onto it since June of 1999. Somehow it escaped the all-encompassing Mom Box of Grade School Treasures.
Speaking of these, I found boxes in our basement from kindergarten through like the third grade. Apparently whenever I finished a year she would tape them shut with packing tape. None of them have ever been opened. I like to imagine the poster-painted pictures of Mommy and Daddy and the clay "dinosaurs' have all melted into some kind of noxious gas and it's just waiting to kill us all.
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