flotsom and jetsom

I'm not nostalgic in a "long for the good ol' days" kind of way; the awesomeness in my life increases at such an exponential rate that I predict my heart will explode with glee by the time I'm 35. But I am a sentimental schmuck. I don't own a lot of stuff, except for books and t-shirts, but I have a lot of stuff because I don't throw anything away.

In my garage are two trunks full of Heather! Anne! history. This is a random sampling.

1) A t-shirt from Atlanta's defunct ABL team (because after the '96 Olympics, those in the know thought America would support two professional women's basketball leagues).
2) My first bible, given to me by my great-grandmother, Annie B.
3) The nametag from the summers I spent as a lifeguard at Lake Lanier Islands Beach and Water Park (two saves!).
4) The plate from the front of my very first car, which I wrecked three months after I got it. I had to walk back to the crash site to get the plate.
5) The letter Manmaw left on the kitchen table when my mom, dad and sister moved away to Florida. (I knew in advance. They didn't just sneak out in the night.)
6) My first (and probably last) purse.
7) Vacation Bible School certificate of perfect attendance (i.e. Ticket To Heaven).

Basketball schedules from my freshman and sophomore years of high school. I kept up with the quarters I played on the freshman schedule (to see if I had enough to letter) and I kept up with my points on the sophomore one (to see if I was the leading scorer). See that 26 against Loganville on January 27th? I only played the second half 'cause of foul trouble in the first. Their fans spit on me!

1) Number from my very first adventure race (running, mountain biking, kayaking, obstacle course).
2) Parking pass from my very first adventure race.
3) First review from my first accounting job.
4) Key to mine and Amy's room from our (high school) freshman biology trip.
5) Tickets from Atlanta Olympics
6) Tickets from 1995 Women's Final Four
7) Ticket from my first bus ride in NYC
8) Lady Vols basketball ticket from 1992.
9) Peachtree Road Race number

This one is my favorite. When I was playing ball in high school, my coach was insane. I mean, he was a brilliant coach, but he would light into us about how we sucked as people and he couldn't believe our parents even loved us. To lighten the mood at half-time, I started a game: After every pep talk, players always start shouting and slapping each other about how our team is the best team and whatever, mostly it's like, "Let's go, ladies! Let's hustle! Let's bring it back! Give it all you got!" So while everyone else was screaming that, others of us would see who could shout "BOOBAE!" the loudest without getting caught. BOOBAE, like "boo-bay" meaning "boobie."

By the time I got to be a senior, lots of people just called me Booabe because of that. (Also, there was an event at a Christmas assembly which I am strictly forbidden to speak about.) My BFF (and own personal cheerleader) made me a sign that hung in our gym (every player had her own sign). Other people's said about how they were supremely awesome basketball players. Mine was all, "Mighty Boobae!"