I started using Twitter again because, one month, I had suddenly stopped using it, and then a friend phoned to make sure I was OK.
Now I am completely abusing it. I keep forgetting I made a Tumblr account so that I would stop posting obnoxious, juvenile links all over Twitter. I also hate it when people use Twitter as their own person instant messaging service, and that is all I do.
I was googling for “My Magic Diary, Casio” tonight because—of course—I am poking around my childhood room and finding evidence of both nerddom and awesomefaceness.
And I found My defunct Magic Diary (JD-5000) in one of the drawers, near my old computer, near the Myst novelizations. My Magic Diary was the epitome of burgeoning 90s geek chic, a wimpy, color-coordinated electronic calendar and organizer. It makes me want to find my Tamagotchi knockoff and my Spy Tech decoder watch.
I’m pretty sure the contents of this box haven’t been touched in years. It was rescued from the deep recesses of my closet.
1 - Mix tape
3 - Rolls of 36EXP 400UC Kodak Professional Ultra Colour Film
10 - Misc. robot buttons
3 - Misc. robot stickers
1 - long green string with small white polka dots
3 - Mix CDs (no label)
1 - Hot Pink Slap Bracelet with text “TOTALLY AWESOME” written in black
1 - Envelop containing 20 photographs taken with a Holga Colour Splash
2 - Switches from the joystick of an arcade cabinet
1 - Black 20 sided die
1 - Green army man
1 - Black plastic ninja
1 - Glittery purple super ball
5 - Misc. photographs taken with an izone Polaroid camera
1 - Key
1 - Neon pink clasp boondoggle key chain
6 - Misc love letters from ex boyfriends
1 - Obscene drawing from my former best friend
These lists are so much fun, I guess because Girls of a Certain Age will come up with really similar lists. For instance, earlier tonight I found: iZone polaroid photos, a tiny plastic Chun-Li, three Bomberman knockoffs, a rubber finger puppet, a tape cassette that goes with a home planetarium, a fingerprinting kit. And this is really stupid, but that kind of simultaneity—of googling some dumb piece of kids’ electronic garbage and then finding someone else’s holiday bedroom list from almost exactly one year ago—makes me feel not so alone in the universe.