Stuff & Things

I spent this morning organizing the basement which, I have to say, was not that fun.  We threw things down there we didn't really know what to do with, so by the time I moved many of my childhood valuables into those beige bins, organized everything into sections (boxes of boxes, electronic boxes, Christmas, and keepsakes - I keep a lot), I was exhausted and my back was killing me.  

As I sat down to empty out the last box of toys, I discovered my Polly Pockets.  Any of you my age might remember these awesome little pods of joy complete with 2-3 movable characters, and an environment for said characters that would fit - oddly enough - in your pocket.  

I had to play with them.

I opened each one, admiring their in-tactness, remembering how much I loved the ones that had beds for them to sleep on, complete little dwellings for dolls now about the size of my fingernail.  The coup de grace was the Starlight Castle, which used to light up when equipped with batteries (not included). 

I remembered the prince and the horse, the moveable swan and the plastic crocket set-up you couldn't actually play.  And I remembered the secret door with the knight's armor...

I didn't remember this:

So I opened this little note, written in elementary school, on which an inventory of each little Polly Pocket doll and pet, their names, and which Pocket they went to.  Even at 12 I was anal as could be.  

What was great though, was the name of the Prince in the Starlight Castle.  Despite knowing what crushes both names signified, having crossed out "Daniel" and changing it to "Michael", I can't help but wonder if the fate of my life couldn't be described in a note from my childhood, hidden in a plastic fad toy, found years later by complete accident.

It could happen.