April makes ten years that I’ve been blogging, which is longer than I’ve done just about anything. I even blogged from behind the Great Firewall of China for two of those ten years.
In honor of my decade writing my thoughts to the internet, I wandered through a lot of my old posts, and was sort of amused by what had changed. Ten years ago, I was studying classics and hoping it would turn into a career of reading Roman history all day. I got classical history questions at work, and in class. Still really love Rome, would still happily read about the Romans all day. I just started rewatching I, Claudius and it’s still great. I’m not saying Harold wasn’t interested in British Roman backstabbery, but he wandered off for a snack during “don’t touch the figs”. I’m hoping he’ll come back when Captain Sejanus is onscreen.
I barely remember seeing Troy, but when I reread this post about how awful I thought Troy was, I suddenly remembered writing it, while sitting in the room I shared with Kristine at Castle Von Hoffman, and that made me really happy.
Ten years ago, I really didn’t have patience for kids. Still don’t. One of the nice things about being over 30 is that now when I say that I love kids but don’t want any, people rarely tell me I’ll change my mind when I’m older. Of course, I sometimes have to hear how few years of fertility I have left before barren tragedy sets in, so there’s that.
Ten years ago, I’d just started driving, and I was quite upset when I got pulled over for nervously driving exactly the speed limit. I’ve become a bit more comfortable with driving over the last decade, but this was not the last time the boys in blue would stop me to ask why I was so nervously obeying all traffic laws. As I’ve gotten older though, I’ve been harassed less and less when I get pulled over for driving suspiciously, and in the south, this ends with polite wishes to have a nice day, ma’am.
Ten years ago, I thought it might be interesting to write a little bit about some computer games. Just, you know, for fun sometimes. Not even remotely expecting that anything would come of it.
I just started reading a secondhand copy of Douglas Coupland’s JPod, and it turns out the previous owner has annotated it, adding another layer of marginalia on a novel that has instructions for ramen noodles and software bug reports in the text.
