(But it's about all those old blogs I've been posting. Sorry.)
I decided to save the "best of" my old blogs in the event that the space where they were living closes my account for lack of logging in or because it might eventually succumb to the Church of Google. Now, of course, they live permanently on a Google-hosted website so we're good, right? No midnight visitors named Larry?
Picking the "best of" required me to read through all of my old blogs and it was an odd experience. Remember how in high school when you were a junior and you'd look back at your freshman class picture and think, "WOW, I was a dork. Thank beans I'm SO much cooler now." And then you look at your junior high school picture when you're a freshman in college and it's Cool Deja Vu all over again? It was kinda like that.
But, because those old shades of me have come to rest in my shiny new word outlet, it's a strange merging of my selves. I think this is a good thing. My writing tends to happen in spurts and there are often years between spurts. And then, I look back and it feels like I'm reading the diary of someone I'm intimately familiar with but don't actually know. And then and then (that was intentional), it all starts to feel somewhat mental illness-y. That in and of itself is not so much an issue but I'll be damned if I'm going to wake up one morning in a cold sweat demanding to know just how many me-'s are out there. So, here's my attempt to avoid The Three Faces of... Me-eve (*snicker*). Rejoice.
I leave you with one of my favorite poems:
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I am schizophrenic
And so am I.
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