I have been lured into the "Creative Memories" scrapbooking cult by a dear Canadian librarian and admit I am thoroughly enchanted. I came home Tuesday with a kit, a Russian tutor [more on that later], and a craving for more.

I spent yesterday opening envelopes of photos, re-reading old diaries, and sorting through an overstuffed shoebox filled with posters, newspaper clippings, concert tickets, and more. It's been a few years since I looked at this stuff and there were a few surprises.

The first surprise was that I'd arranged my photos not by decade, or city, or even grade, but by "ex" girl/boyfriends. They are labelled as such. There is "Before Heidi" "Jude" "After Feli" and so on. I think my self-imposed singledom these past few years has been worth it, because cataloging my life in this way strikes me as bizarre.

I found several complete sets of 'zines I used to publish - Anomic Perspectives (early/mid 1980s) and SMACKS (early 1990s). There were photos and other mementos from friends and family now gone (the family - old age - the rest, AIDS, suicide or drugs). There was plenty of bad poetry, a few unfinished short stories, and these tantalizing words, scribbled on the back of a boarding pass dated April 1995: "I'm not ready for peace. But I am so tired of war."