The other day I was going through some boxes I got from my folks. You know, the boxes from your childhood and college that you knew would eventually end up in your home, but pretty much exist as time capsules intending to haunt you with your own past. Starring roles go to several boxes of books I’d forgotten about, but contain amazing literature, particularly my Russian literature collection and a bunch of “ponies” from when I studied languages. Then, there are the old folded notes from boyfriends past!