Somewhere early on in my independent life, the refrigerator became not only a place to store food, but a place to display all the shameful photographs of the past and present. This is what happens when there aren't kids around cluttering things up with their drawings and report cards. The Fridge of Shame has gone through many mutations. Some friends have willingly donated old photos to it, bless them. Some more charming than shameful pics have slipped into the mix. But today I came face to face with the fact that the shame was not only to be found in the photos of my untameable adolescent hair but also inside the refrigerator as well. I couldn't show you the whole thing. The moldy squash and wilted cabbage says it all.

The approach of the new year makes me anxious for a clean and tidy place. It took me so long to clean out the fridge that I didn't get to much else today. But at least all that shame is back where it belongs, clinging to some cheap magnates.