old friends and memories
I had an old, old friend message me on facebook over the past weekend. "Dude", it said, "I have today off from school! Snow Dayz Rawk!" or something like that. I'll never understand how people can go months, even years, without talking and then launch into a description of beer pong tournaments held on a snow day without warning or explanation. It's almost as if he doesn't think we stopped talking or something. Facebook continues to be my least favorite institution of my college years.
Speaking of my college years, has anyone noticed how far downhill College Humor has fallen? A few short years ago they were funny and, dare I say it, somewhat cutting edge. Now it's pathetic what they're doing over there. I pity current underclassmen who didn't spend their college formative years with the terrific time-waster that was CH.
I deleted an old, old, old email account I've had for about eight years. I used to check it maybe once or twice a month so it wouldn't be deleted without my consent; you might be surprised how much junk (no pun intended) you accumulate in an eight-year period. I had emails from my high school years about college applications, to and from friends about the stupidest shit, to and from Angie with both serious and not serious messages, drafted-but-not-sent messages to various people, etc. The list goes on. I had messages from people I remember talking to but not being friends with, people I remember being friends with but not talking to, and even people who I can't remember talking to or being friends with. Believe it or not, I still had a draft of one of my first ever poems saved in a folder tucked far, far back away from prying eyes.
I feel a general sense of catharsis now that it's gone. I guess I should be more specific in saying that rather than eight years of junk being deleted, the appropriate number is closer to four or five. I haven't used my old hotmail account for anything since entering college, really, especially since transferring to Gustavus. It's just weird how seeing some of those old messages affected me: I'm always saying that I don't miss high school, that I'm totally beyond those years. To be honest, I had to really resist taking a few hours and reading through each and every one of those old emails. It's a good thing, maybe, since I guarantee I sounded like an idiot.
Speaking of my college years, has anyone noticed how far downhill College Humor has fallen? A few short years ago they were funny and, dare I say it, somewhat cutting edge. Now it's pathetic what they're doing over there. I pity current underclassmen who didn't spend their college formative years with the terrific time-waster that was CH.
I deleted an old, old, old email account I've had for about eight years. I used to check it maybe once or twice a month so it wouldn't be deleted without my consent; you might be surprised how much junk (no pun intended) you accumulate in an eight-year period. I had emails from my high school years about college applications, to and from friends about the stupidest shit, to and from Angie with both serious and not serious messages, drafted-but-not-sent messages to various people, etc. The list goes on. I had messages from people I remember talking to but not being friends with, people I remember being friends with but not talking to, and even people who I can't remember talking to or being friends with. Believe it or not, I still had a draft of one of my first ever poems saved in a folder tucked far, far back away from prying eyes.
I feel a general sense of catharsis now that it's gone. I guess I should be more specific in saying that rather than eight years of junk being deleted, the appropriate number is closer to four or five. I haven't used my old hotmail account for anything since entering college, really, especially since transferring to Gustavus. It's just weird how seeing some of those old messages affected me: I'm always saying that I don't miss high school, that I'm totally beyond those years. To be honest, I had to really resist taking a few hours and reading through each and every one of those old emails. It's a good thing, maybe, since I guarantee I sounded like an idiot.