Beyond the Kitchen tips

Make a Time Capsule!

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Seven years.

Seven years doesn’t sound like a lot of time.  Seven years.  Seven years ago I was just moving from Seattle back to Los Angeles.  I was dating a man that I liked… and eventually I thought better of it and stopped liking him.  Seven years ago I was struggling to put myself through college.  I was working at coffee shop where I was the most popular barista because I was super nice, remembered everyone’s drink order, and occasionally wore low cut tops.  Nevermind that last part, Mom . Seven years ago I was moving into a tiny… and I mean TINY, one room studio with no kitchen.  I had a microwave that I rarely used.  I read a lot of books, took a lot of painting classes, and drove a Buick.  I remember feeling like I was working it out…. I guess I was.

So much has happened in seven years.  So much has happened on this path that I couldn’t ever have imagined for myself.

Because so much has happened, and because so much will happen… I made a time capsule (which I keep accidentially calling a time machine).

Making a time capsule is brilliantly easy:  invite over a friend (in this case, my dear/blonde friend Jill), gather some of the things that you love, label them, tag them, write your future self a note, take polaroids, pile everything in a fancy box… and let seven glorious, action packed, unexpected, adventure-filled years pass before opening it again.  There you have it!  A time machine!!

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Inside every good time capsule are things that you love.

In this particular capsule I have encapsulated (see what I did there..?):

-my mom’s old watch.  looking at it makes me feel five years old again.

-friendship bracelets acquired in friendship this year.

-jewelry that i love… and i’m ready to say hello to again in 2018.

-this year’s holiday card.

-a coin purse i adore.

and -a token from this year’s visit to The French Laundry.

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Each item is tagged and reminisced upon.

It’s hard to think of what items I would have encapsulated seven years ago.

I can’t wait to forget about these little gems so I can open them to surprise in the future.

It’s really hard to forget about something that you’re too excited to forget about.

Does that make sense?  No?  Ok… cool.

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Another integral part of the time capsule is the letter to our future selves.

Jill took her time with her future self letters.  I think she got deep.

I probably wrote something about bagels and kittens… I dunno.  My future self is already shrugging her shoulder is acceptance.

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Do they have Polaroid pictures in the future!?  Heck yes they do… because we encapsulated them!

There is something soooo romantic about a developing Polaroid.  I don’t know what it is… but it gets me every time.

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These Polaroids already look aged and weathered.  Um… we just took them.  No biggie.

Also… that blue sweater makes me look reeeaaaalllly hip-y (not hippie).  Not to future self: you were hip-y, or something.

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All the tokens go in the box!

Goodbye for now!

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Jill put in some little gems that remind her of a crazy year of love, adventure, learning, and chapstick.

Sure,  it just looks like a pile of stuff… but it’s a pile of oouuurrr stuff.  That makes it important… mostly to us.

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Signed, Sealed and Totally Hidden in my Closet.

Hiding something in my closet is essentially like digging a twelve foot hole in the ground and burying it.  So rest assured, I will not happen upon this gem for a good long while.

Whatever… we all have our shames… mine is my closet.

Anyhow!

December.  2018.  Champagne and newly discovered treasures.  Friendship and reminiscence.  And celebration!  We’ll be living the future!

All of this time capsule talk is to say this:

Happy New Year!  Joy of seven years ago would like to thank you for changing the course of her life.  I’m so glad you come here and share the world with me.  I hope the new year brings you hope, happiness, and bagels and cream cheese.  But… before the future is upon us, box up some of the present past so you can remember where you are exactly now.

Love to you.  Seriously. From deep down where it’s real,

Joy