For a few days this week, I've been reading my old entries on LiveJournal. I started that thing back in 2002, and even make gestures at updating it to this day, mostly to crosspost things from The Elka Almanac (which I tweaked the look of, by the by), when there are fundraisers or calls to action or whatnot. In recent years, I used it to list the books that I'd read, with reviews. Mostly. Sometimes it was just a list. Sometimes it was a paragraph long rant about the frustrations of the book I'd just read. Which were pretty funny, if I do say so myself, but I don't want to be calling people out on my author blog; that's just gauche, so I won't really be doing that here.
My LiveJournal also cataloged my college years from Sophomore year on. I revisited the anger and frustration and mania of doing my senior thesis (The Use and Misuse of Antidepressants; riveting, I know), hilarious quotes from brilliant and somewhat wacky professors, hijinks that friends and I had. Links, now defunct, of things that I thought were freaky, or funny, or just interesting. It's an Internet time capsule of another person I was; funnier, younger, a little more fearless, I think. Or perhaps a different kind of fearless, the kind that you can be when you know you have a net.
Not that I'm without a net. It's just different when you're not in college anymore.
One thing I did say in that very first entry, almost ten years ago (Current music: Godsmack "Awake" in my head, Mood: Lazy):
You know, this Internet is a crazy thing. It's going to run our lives one day. And by "run our lives" I mean gain its own sentience, build a robot army to strafe the globe, and then become our evil overlord. Or it would be evil if machines could be evil. I think in the D&D scope of things they're true neutral. I could be wrong, though.
Ten years. I might cry.
But, hello College Jen. We might be able to learn from one another.