Reclaiming my lost youth, one CD at a time.

When I got my iBook, I was so cool. No, like, really cool. I was so cool, in fact, that when I was uploading my CDs onto my computer, I got a bit elitist: "No, Alanis, you get 'Hands Clean' and that's it. No, I will not put on 'Jagged Little Pill,' that was so 1995."

Now, I am scouring library shelves to regain the junior high memories I threw away when I sold my CDs at some crummy record store in Toledo, in exchange for money to do laundry and get gas. And they ripped me off. You can't tell me my entire Stone Temple Pilots collection was only worth $3. No, record store clerk, you look me in the eye and tell me you'll give me $3. Erin's got some towels to wash.

I'm not too proud to say, as I watch the "import" button on my iTunes work it magic, that I am sorry I sold all those second-rate CDs when I did. For a 13-year-old, I had a pretty decent CD collection, which I'd be embarrassed to share with you in person at this present time.

But, watching my mom hunt through the cassette tape racks 10 years ago lets me know that if I weren't reclaiming them now, I'd be doing it 20 years from now, holding the CD in my hand while some kids go "What the heck is that round thing?" Don't act like you're not hiding your own music at home. I went to the David Lee Roth Waterfest concert. I've seen the dancing and the singing along.

CDs Erin's loved, sold for gas money, and is now welcoming back into her life

• "Jagged Little Pill,"
Alanis Morissette.

• "The Stranger,"
Billy Joel -- technically I never sold this one. I just only had it on cassette. Oh, yeah.

• "Whatever and Ever Amen,"
Ben Folds Five.

• "First Band on the Moon,"
The Cardigans. You know them as "that one-hit wonder that sang 'Lovefool' in 'Romeo & Juliet.'

• "Automatic for the People,"
REM.