December Blogging Meme Topic #7:
Retrospective
-My choice (no write-in)
Today is one of the few days for which I didn't receive a topic from someone (if you still would like to request a topic, just leave a comment on that post with the open day and the prompt of your choice). That made the decision to trawl the very first year of posts in this blog, 2002, a relatively easy one. I'm in the habit of combing my archives every few years or so for purposes of weeding out broken links and the like, but what struck me most this time around is how much energy I put into blogging during those first twelve months.
Even as I was hitting a crisis-point in my course of study as an undergraduate music student (as most of you know, I left my program and transferred to another school entirely, changing my major while I was at it) and my health was starting to crumble along fault-lines that ultimately led to the surgery I had last month, I found wonder in almost everything. I loved my job as an editor at the campus newspaper, fed chocolate-covered java beans to the catfish who lived in the pond down near the coffee shop, and had an eternal-yet-affectionate loathing for my music history professor. I kept bettas in the endless sequence of dorm rooms through which the evil forces of ResLife shuffled me. I wrote and rarely, if ever, slept.
Above all, I remember cold: endless winter nights carrying laundry through the snow.
-My choice (no write-in)
Today is one of the few days for which I didn't receive a topic from someone (if you still would like to request a topic, just leave a comment on that post with the open day and the prompt of your choice). That made the decision to trawl the very first year of posts in this blog, 2002, a relatively easy one. I'm in the habit of combing my archives every few years or so for purposes of weeding out broken links and the like, but what struck me most this time around is how much energy I put into blogging during those first twelve months.
Even as I was hitting a crisis-point in my course of study as an undergraduate music student (as most of you know, I left my program and transferred to another school entirely, changing my major while I was at it) and my health was starting to crumble along fault-lines that ultimately led to the surgery I had last month, I found wonder in almost everything. I loved my job as an editor at the campus newspaper, fed chocolate-covered java beans to the catfish who lived in the pond down near the coffee shop, and had an eternal-yet-affectionate loathing for my music history professor. I kept bettas in the endless sequence of dorm rooms through which the evil forces of ResLife shuffled me. I wrote and rarely, if ever, slept.
Above all, I remember cold: endless winter nights carrying laundry through the snow.