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Forgive Me Father, I Was Young, Single, Probably Under The Influence of Alcohol

We live with my inlaws and 90% of our possessions are in their house. I don't know how it all fits but let's just say that there used to be a cute matching couch/sofa (davenport if you were talking to my Gramma) and loveseat** in the living room but you can't see them through the boxes, china hutch and dresser. My poor father in law. At least he still has his recliner.

I figured, since they were up north on vacation with our Monkey Boy and all around trouble maker, this would be a great time to finish inventoring the boxes since I did a half ass job as we were loading them in the moving truck. I'm tired of the "Where the hell is the blender for margueritas?" game searching for it. In the same 12 boxes. There are about 30 boxes? I think. mentally counting mentally taking a valium mentally in New Zealand on my own vacation with just the husband What? Oh. Yes. Sorry. I needed to go anal on the living room and get it organized.

Imagine the horror and shame that came over me when I found, amongst hundreds of cds, these lovely items that I spent hard earned money on:



That's just part of the collection. The vivid memories are coming back. Rushing into my head causing me to cringe and want to yell, "WHY? For the love of all things holy, WHY?" I recall a friend of mine leaving me notes at work addressed to Mrs. Ricky Martin. She worked for the largest music distributor in the midwest (for WalMart, ShopKo, Pamida, etc) and she would cut out displays that had his photo on them and leave them for when I'd come in to work in the morning. When she left her job to have her 14th child (ok, her 3rd or 4th but it may as well have been 14), I got her job. This meant even more Ricky stuff for me and since I was single (can't imagine why that was) I could put a lifesize cutout of him in my apartment if I wanted. I couldn't find one of those but oh, I would have paid muchos dineros for that bad boy. Please note these are singles. The two end ones are the same. damn. song. About 16 different versions.


Now I used to spend an obnoxious amount of my paychecks on cds. You work with music all day, everyday, you're gonna buy stuff. That's why I'm glad I don't work at the music/movie store anymore. My kids would probably be nekkid because Mamma spent the diaper/pullup money on the new Kelly Clarkson cd. Thank GOD for iTunes.

I honestly have no recollection purchasing this:


I listened to both songs and don't recognize them (shocker, I know). I Google him and see that he did a duet with Don Ho's daughter, Hoku (go ahead, take a couple moments to think about it. Hoku Ho. Ho Ho.) Ok so then I see that he was an NBA player. Cool. Yeah, um I don't think this is that Tim James. But I may be wrong.


Lots of useless information for ya'll to digest. You're welcome. By the by, this is what happens when you don't have an energetic boy to chase around and keep out of trouble. I don't think I have ever had this much time to link a post such as I have. It'll probably never happen again. Oh well. Enjoy!

**my therapist has the exact. same. set in his office.

Comments

Les Becker said…
Guess what your house fills up with when you work in an electronics store...? (I wish I could say it was batteries, so I could find a way to power all the crap I've bought over the last decade).
Anonymous said…
I always save in the back of my mind an answer to the question of what embarrassing thing about me that very few people know about. The answer is this: I saw Ricky Martin in concert....twice.
Mama said…
ok so now what's sad about that? I'm jealous. Very much so.

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