I’ve been blogging since…
Before “blog” had the meaning it does today.
I don’t think “blog” was a very well known word at all until
Blogger.com busted out onto the scene and wow-ed everyone with the
amazing fact that everyone could make a personal journal without
knowing a stitch of HTML.
Hell, “blog” didn’t even mean online-journal at first. [Oh, the
arguments we would have about that… Don’t get me going, I’ll never
stop.]
So don’t mind me when I find it amusing that I have a 2 letter username
for Blogger [heh, a 3 letter name for Xanga 
], or that when I first started blogging, I didn’t even know
automatic blogs existed. Each entry was coded by hand individually baby. [According to their site, blogger.com was started in
August ’99. I have archives dating back to November ’99.]
Wow, I wonder what I called it back then, if not a blog? I barely
even remember. I think I called it my online journal.
Why all this reminiscing?
There’s something sad about electronic copies not aging physically…
Anyhow, all these random thoughts came about because I was originally
going to write a “one year ago today I wrote…” type of entry and I
stumbled across some of my oldest archives.
You may not know it, but having electronic chronicles of yourself from
your teenage years is kind of creepy. It’s not the fact
that there IS a chronicle. It’s the fact that none of it has
changed. At all. Even my writing style is kind of the same.
Reading an electronic copy of what you wrote when you were 16 at the
age of 22 is so different than reading a paper journal entry.
Paper journals age. Handwriting changes. Pages
yellow. Corners get bent.
The following entry could have been written yesterday. But it wasn’t.
11.27.99
Life is so good, you don’t really realize how good your life is
until you’ve seen poverty close up. For Thanksgiving I woke up at 6am
and went to a senior citizens center. We fed the old people until
around 1. After that we left and delivered individual dinners to
families that couldnt make it to the center. We had a bunch of food
left over after that so we brought it to a homeless shelter. I got to
talk to a couple homeless kids. It was really sad and touched my heart.
I will never forget the conversation I had with the girl… It was
nothing much, but it struck a chord in me.
“Are you a volunteer?” she asked me.
I nodded and smiled, “Yep! Are you?”
She shook her head at me and grinned, “I live here.”
I was saddened for some reason. It made me feel really bad. Her family
must have been in poverty for pretty long for her to believe that she
was living there. It made me wonder what her parents were doing to help
themselves, and made me curse society even more.
I’ve been working on the layouts for my webpages so much that
I’ve neglected my journal. Deepest apologies to anyone out there who
actually cares.
Everybody is under the impression that I’ve fallen in ‘love’. It irks
me because I do not like him. I do not even know him. I simply comment
about his looks. I think he is smart, etc. For some reason people think
for those reasons alone I want to be his girlfriend or something. I
just got out of a hard relationship, I don’t know why I would want to
get back into one.
It’s also strange, that in the last couple days more than
three guys have told me they like me. There are more in the last
weeks… but these couple days it’s been especially weird. I do not
know if someone is trying to play some kind of sick joke on me or what.
None of the guys seem to be related, except for the fact that they know
me. It upsets me a little because I am so not ready for a relationship
of any kind. The thing is, I feel as if most of the people who claim
they like me don’t even know me. How can they believe that they like me
if they don’t even know who I am? My face isn’t that pretty, neither is
my body. They don’t know my true personality, they don’t even see me. I
don’t understand this.
Damn humans.
Ironically enough, I hated humans back then, too.
What are things from your past that come back to haunt you?
