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Over the last couple of weeks, I've been doing a great deal of housecleaning. Not just vacuuming the carpets and washing the dishes (tho I've done those too), but real thorough, minute organization level cleaning. I figure this is my last chance to get the house in order and have it in any kind of order for the next several decades. This has involved finally unpacking boxes that have been moving with me since I first went off to college in '92**, pruning the bookshelves, weeding the closet, etc.

Besides finding a lot of truly hideous '80's paraphenilia, I also found my binder. Now, the binder hasn't exactly been hidden. In fact, it's been sitting on the bookshelf next to my bed for the almost-two-years we've been here, and it occupied a similar position at all the previous locations too. It had just become one of those things that's so ubiquitous that your eye no longer sees it.

( The necessary backstory, leading up the inevitable )

( Dead End Zone )

( Rise Up )

( World of Lost Dreams )

**There were two moves involved then. My mom moved the same week I left, so all my stuff got packed up to go to her house in Indiana, and some boxes continued on with me to Florida. Not counting moves into, out of, and between dorms, the next thirteen years included four interstate moves and two intrastate moves. Not in that order.