Swimming through the pile of Power Rangers action figures, I snatched up yet another Pog and attempted to squeeze it in between my copy of "NOW 3" and the stack of Pokemon cards leaning against the side of the box (I had all the shiny cards from the original set, of course). Sure, I had my Super Nintendo and the small poster that came with my Sam-Goody-gift-card-purchased copy of "Baby One More Time," but I knew something wasn't right. Maybe it was the light reflecting off the StarCraft strategy guide, or the fading fabric on the Chicago Bulls t-shirt. Maybe it was the whole idea.

Before I could complain about the ripped cover on my favorite Shel Silverstein book, the obvious crease in my '96 Yankees World Series pennant, or the fact that my mother had thrown out every Tickle me Elmo in a 3-block radius, Ali cut me off and said what we all were thinking.

"You just did it...wrong"

I tried to throw the cover page of the "Goldeneye 007" instructional booklet across the room in a bout of dramatic frustration, but like this entire idea, it lost its potential to be sweet and painfully came floating back down to Earth.

"A Nirvana poster, a set of 'Hey Arnold' bed sheets, and Season One of the Fresh Prince of Bel Air on DVD... that's honestly all you needed," said Ali as her fingers blended images of John Elway and Mark McGwire, sifting through the lightly fading pages of outdated issues of Sports Illustrated.

I buried my head in the VHS case of Aladdin to protest my own undeniable agreement.

"You just took too small of an approach, you weren't looking at it from a macro angle, the big picture, ya know?"

As if pulling a page from the "Saved by the Bell" script, I stood up, took two steps to begin my regular frustrated pacing, and suddenly found myself whimpering like a small girl who lost her Polly Pocket after I realized that three little 'Micro Machine' sailboats had lodged their way into my bare foot.

"Well, at least irony was cool in the 90s," I shrugged, accepting what appeared to be to be utter failure.

Two hours later, I'm not sure why I still have a box filled with the likes of Street Fighter action figures and a Pokedex (which never worked then, and definitely doesn't work now).

It will be subtle, no doubt, and sure, about 75% of the people who enter my room next year will just think that I have an odd obsession with boy bands, but for the rest of you, for those of you who know that I'm trying to recreate a history that is far too close to the present, you will appreciate it in all of its minute, quirky detail.

I can't help but wonder if 10 years from now will bring an equally awkward college kid trying to reincarnate the two-oh's (the 2-thousands? the zero's?) in his humid Virginia dorm room. Realistically, ok, people will try to sum up this decade by all the assumed cultural landmarks, but it just won't be the same. I know it.

The sports of this past decade have been marred by scandal, any charm left over from the Home Run race or Michael Jordan are long gone by way of steroids and general thuggery. Movies, where is our Forest Gump to bring us together? The sitcoms to bring our families around the television set-- Kramer, Ross, where are you guys? Hell I'll even take Frasier! Music... Soulja Boy will never touch the Macarena, please.

I know, I'm neglecting a million things I'm sure, and maybe nostalgia is blurring my sense of placement in time, but when we look back on the last 8 years... what can we even say? The only thing that comes to mind is 9/11. But is that the beginning of the 2000's or the end of the 90's? Living just across the Hudson, I saw the smoke rising above the tree line in my suburban back yard, after school, 7th grade, and it seems to mark an end more than anything else. An end of innocence, yes, the decades split at a time in my life where the sun rose as surely as the cracking of my voice.

But we had such high expectations, right? This was it, this was the NEW MILLENNIUM, we had seen it in the movies, we got the stupid glasses with the middle 00's for
eye-slots, we were prepared for a new world, one big step closer to the 'future'. Or... were we scared? The Y2K 'threat' loomed over our fad-crazy 90's souls, we stocked up on imperishables and had nightmares about planes falling out of the sky and nuclear weapons firing at will. The machines would finally take over.

But then, nothing happened.
Eight years later, maybe we're still waiting.
Hey, but I got hope... '98 and '99 were so badass, I know I'm jumping the gun here.

My Mom just came home from work and stood in my doorway for a solid 5 minutes, staring at all the crap from my childhood that she was sure she had thrown out, but was now brimming over the top of my oversized wheely suitcase. I explained to her my plans for the ultimate 90s themed dorm room, and after her regular "let's just giggle at the things Jeff says to me because I never know if he's kidding or not," she began rattling off some suggestions of her own:

M: Super Nintendo?
J: got it
M: Bill Clinton Halloween mask?
J: check
M: Texas Hold'em Poker chips
J: uhh
M: One of those Atkins books
J: wait, umm
M: That weird picture of Jared from the Subway commercial holding his big pants that you keep framed in your room?
J: how did you find that?!

I told my Mom I'd "brb" and she did that confused giggle thing again.
After a quick search on Wikipedia, I realized that the 2000's weren't shaping up to be as fad-free as I seemed to think. All the things my mother somehow was privvy to, plus YouTube, Ipods, Crocs (vomit in my mouth), Redbull, foshizzle, things aren't as bad as I thought!

I look back again at my pile of seemingly worthless shit that definitely won't fit in my dorm room anyway, and I smile. It was a good idea, either way, even if people don't 'get it'. I probably should start packing my clothes before I have another one of these cultural crises.