When I finally get to it, cleaning isn’t all that bad. I have one shelf that consists of random snapshots that is in desperate need of some organization. My book keeper says I need to honor my space, so I’m trying to get this place spiffy so my creative energy can flow. And then I came across a time when all I cared about was music. A scrapbook consisting of my ticket stubs which even brags a few autographs. In middle school, I lived down the street from KSOL (they no longer exist), and I would ride my bike up there anytime I heard someone famous on the station. I’d wait in the hallway or in the parking lot to get an autograph. Even though it wasn’t pictures, there was some innate obligation to witness and document. It was usually psuedo stars like The Jets and Bobby Brown (he rode my bike!). One day I went up to get Yo Yo’s autograph. I was waiting in the hallway for about an hour, when some random dude (who reeked of the wacky tobacky) finally said, “Do you want me to just go inside and get her autograph for you?” I was relieved. He came back with a beautiful autograph (on classic letterhead) from Yo Yo and said, “I’m gonna give you my autograph too, cuz I’m gonna be real famous one day.” I love when people know their personal legend. Thanks for reminding me 2Pac.