I've put so many things away tonight! There's more to go, though, so I had to take just a little, tiny break and look at the old yearbooks in one of my boxes. In 1983, someone referred to our middle school as "bitchin." In 1984, someone encouraged me to have a "punky perfect summer and eat lots of peanut butter." In 1985, a clever girl used one large 'S' to request that I "stay sweet and sassy," and, more daringly, a large 'B' for a warning: "bad boys bring babies."

I'll even post pictures.

6th grade:

I was late transferring to that school, so it was one of those new kid group shots.

7th grade:

Was I still in my Nancy Drew phase then? I thought I had moved out of that years before this photo was taken.

8th grade:

That hair! Oh, the humanity.

My 9th, 10th, and 12th grade yearbooks don't seem to be in that box, but the former two were years I spent overcoming the combination of braces, an ill-advised perm, and intense chlorine exposure. You're not missing out.

11th grade:

As jonlipnicky would say, "I will fucking kill you."

In other news, I bought a new toaster today. It was cheap, and it has those nice, wide slots that can accommodate bagels. When I took it out of the box, I learned that it has specific, printed settings for Pop-Tarts and Eggos. Something about owning a toaster with settings just for Pop-Tarts and Eggos strikes me as rather trashy, but damned if I didn't put a Pop-Tart in it and toast it on that setting. You know, just to see.

It was good.