Sunday Funday: Allison's Treasure Chest

I'm not a keeper.

I mean, I am a keeper; I don't keep stuff. Like many of my most lovable qualities, I get that from my mother. I think she's part Amish. She loved coming through our bedrooms regularly with Hefty bags and disappearing with anything that happened to be touching a surface - clothes, toys, homework, children...there used to be eight of us.

So aside from explaining the circumstances to my boyfriend, living for months with only an air mattress, a few clothes, and some paper plates wasn't that odd for me. But I do allow myself one Tupperware bin of random old crap.

Because Sol went home to New York for Thanksgiving, I spent today performing essential Sunday beauty rituals and cleaning my apartment. When I go out of town, he plays video games, shoots guns, and somehow manages to turn his apartment into a frat house. When he goes out of town, I watch chick flicks, eat Hostess cakes and turn my apartment into a salon.

While I waited for my honey and egg mask to soften my skin, my olive oil to condition my hair, and my nail polish to dry, I decided to clean out my junk bin.

You may know I am a bit of a pool shark. It really got going when I was bartending in Portland back in 2003. I joined the APA (American Poolplayers Association) and scored a sweet patch. For my denim jacket, of course.

That same year my coworkers begged me to join their bowling league. I don't think they ever actually let me bowl. I have a sneaking suspicion they needed an extra person.

Yeah I have a pager. What's up.

I guarantee this tape has The Cranberries and/or Sir Mix-A-Lot.

Let's take it back a little further. Now let me just explain that back in the day, my life consisted of exactly two things: breaking swimming records and making A's in school.

Nerd alert...

You're not seeing double. I was in the Academic Spotlight twice. I told the interviewer I was going to be an architect in North Carolina. Yeah, that didn't quite pan out.

Good thing I was also well on my way to being an entrepreneur.

But most of my celebrity has come from my swimming abilities.

You might notice the fine-looking hunk of teenage dude behind me and think, "Wow, I wonder what it would've been like to be a swimmer and hang out with hot, mostly-naked guys all the time?" Yeah, totally not that cool. Most of them were even dorkier than I was, and at 5 a.m. practice, they just smell like morning breath. The last thing you're thinking about is the fact that they're sporting banana hammocks. Also, they shave their legs and armpits several times a year. Point me to the soccer field.

Unfortunately, I was born with chlorine in my blood.

(OMG, Julia, you look so nerdy in this picture.)

So that's about the extent of the contents of my treasure chest, besides some old W-2s from Chili's and a couple of love letters from my mom. Wow, my life is infinitely cooler now.