I did a little cleaning tonight and came across my "treasure box"--stuff I have collected over the years, and for whatever reason I couldn't bear to throw away. I haven't gone through it in a long time, and it was cool. It's not a very big box, and it is an assortment of this and that--photos, notes, reports, test scores, and other things.

Here are some things I found and learned:

The first and only addition of "Kelly's Fantastic Journal" that was written when I was in 5th grade. It was an Enquirer like magazine with some pretty sensational stories and a Dear Abby like column. I was not very good at giving advice. My "advice" to a person complaining about their weight and wondering what to do about it: "don't look at your scale or lose weight." Apparently I always liked to write, but never took myself serious. I know I never considered it something I would do for a living until I hit my 30s.

I was thin in High School. This came as a surprise to me, because I always considered myself fat. When I looked at those pictures today, I saw something different for the first time. How weird is that? My whole life I thought I was fat when I actually wasn't. Maybe if I can change that perception, I can change the way I look at things now.

I( thought I did great on my S.A.T tests. I did not do as well as I thought I did, and my verbal scores sucked. I did much better in math. Is that OK for a writer? According to the tests, I also scored below average in mechanical and music--I think it was an opinion part of the test. Nothing has changed there.

My first choice as a college major was Psychology, and I wanted to get a Doctorate Degree. My second choice surprised me, because I completely forgot about it. I wanted to be a Fashion Designer. That is totally shocking to me now, because a Fashion Queen I am not. At all. Period.

My choices for colleges were Drexel in Philadelphia, Penn State, and the University of California, Los Angeles. I didn't get to any of them. Bummer. Especially the California one.

I found some old letters, and the last known addresses of two former Pen Pals. One was from Israel and the other one was from Beverly Hills, CA (but she was originally from Israel). I visited the CA one when I was fourteen. I flew by myself all the way from Philadelphia to LAX alone when I was fourteen (1982), with a lay over in Dallas/Fort Worth. Was my mother nuts for letting me do this? I didn't think so then, but now that I have two fourteen year old girls, I think yes. There is no way my girls would be allowed to do this. My how times have changed. I wonder though if I can still get in touch with my Pen Pals. That would be fun to find out what they are up to now.

I loved to draw way back when, and I did well on my projects. All the reports I saved were quite colorful. I loved markers. My drawing skills weren't as good as I remember though. The important think though was the teacher didn't seem to notice. Teachers loved my art work until 10th grade. That's when I quit art because the teacher said something about my skills (or lack of).

If I had a choice of plain white paper or any other color I chose color.

Typewritten papers are not nearly as pretty as ones done on a computer--and my typing skills were no so good. Can we say white out?


I am so glad I save these silly things. It is fun to revisit the past and remember and be reminded of the person you once were, after all that is a big part of the person you are now.