Memory Lane: Blog Edition

It's time for another arbitrary anniversary! As of two days ago, this blog has been active for 7 years. Before 2004, I blogged at "Ephemeral Pulp," and before that I blogged at "Step 23: Quest for World Domination" (Geocities/CollegePark) and "Ho Ka Hey: Today's a Good Day to Die." (Tripod)

Technically I have been annoying the good people of the internet for 15 years. A little less than half the years I've been alive.

Huz. Zah.

I have way better followers now than I used to, by the way. You guys rock. (Unless for some reason you followed me back then, which means you win the brass ring) Plus all the really good hate mail dried up when I stopped using the word "domination" in the blog's title. Switching to "mirth" really classed up the joint.

Let's have a treat. Let's look at the Christy's of years past, posted on previous blog incarnations.

First, we have Christy with a perm and a scowl on a boat, around third grade. This was my favorite expression growing up. I thought I was being pensive and zoning out, everyone else told me my face was going to stay that way:

Next we have the artist's high school yearbook picture. I used an entire bottle of hairspray to lock in these righteous curls:

This next picture was taken around the time I was encouraged to start my first web page with a bunch of other ragtag San Raf ruffians. (Actually I started the blog when I lived in Anacapa Hall, but I don't feel like scanning any of those pictures, so I apologize to Colin, Jen, and Karen for my history revision.)

Some college students intern in big industry. I spent a summer tucked away in Point O' Woods grocery store on Fire Island (New York) selling expensive mayonnaise and trying to figure out the difference between rosemary sprigs and fresh thyme. Here I am in the arugula:

Eleven years ago, one month before Jer and I started dating and I was pretty sure I'd die alone because no one would ever love me and I failed at everything, I wrote this:

An Open Letter to Myself 20 years in the Future

Assuming you have all your limbs, faculties, and the ability to breathe without a respirator, I would like to say a little something and I would like you to listen. You are going to fail. You are going to fail repeatedly. And here I am, still young and fairly idealistic, I want to tell you that the sin is not in failing. The sin is not learning from the past. If you are sitting in some squalid little room with the lights dimmed, petting your cats and eating tuna out of a can I'm going to be very angry. If you've shut yourself away from the world, covered the windows with foil, and live in some backwoods cabin rocking back and forth because you've been hurt too many times, there's no reason to live. Put us out of our misery.

And if for some reason you come across the ability to time travel, make sure you come back to March 16, 2000, and slap me upside the head. Trust me. You may not remember why, but I deserve it.

See ya in 15!