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It’s twoo! It’s twoo!

Okay, so I have mentioned more than a few times, in fact, I believe it may be the true theme of my blog, that I am a procrastinator.  Well, I decided I should go into my aol mail accounts and see what the damage was, how many have been unread and for how long.  It had been a short while…or quite a long while even perhaps as when I went back in, all of my addresses have deleted.  It’s like the old me didn’t even exist any more. 

The me that held those accounts is not the me that I am today.  I can’t even remember if there was any info I would have needed from there.  I guess it doesn’t matter anyway…nothing I can do about it…except think of all the people I barely remember that I used to talk to.  I’m sure I saved some of our correspondence to each other.  I’m sure there are dozens of hubba hubba letters that disappeared like the owners who had written them.

I’m not terribly sad to think I will never look upon them…yet.  Perhaps when I’m an older women trying to put the pieces of my past back together in my brain like a giant surreal jigsaw puzzle I may frown that I don’t get to see what courters of the past had to say, but if I can barely remember the authors of the notes now, I really don’t think my time worn brain’s going to have any better luck at the recall.

I just mentioned in facebook yesterday that it’s crazy all the people we are over the course of our lifetimes.  The lass that owned and lived out of those aol address had a lot of crap to deal with.  Her parents were dying, she was near death with a virus at some point, she had made a couple of not great choices, lived in a non-heated basement apartment, but also had a lot of ‘friends’ across the globe whom traded goodies, both verbally and electronically (music and movies people!!  Nothing else!…mostly) with.  Someone agreed whole heartedly and wondered if we would ever settle down and just be ourselves. 

Ourselves. 

I am always quite myself.  The thing is, my self, as I would hope other selves, mutate.  We have to or else we would be these adult humans with an attitude of a two year old.  I am very legitimate in all the me’s that I am, it’s just that things that excited or arroused or appalled me at one time may have the opposite effect.  Life happens and we live and we learn.  Sometimes we become cynical, sometimes we just get enough, or mostly too much, of a something.  I used to love the Wizard of Oz.  So much so that darn near everyone I knew would buy my Oz stuff.  So much so it became annoying.  The movie is still quite beautiful, but I really do not want another Oz anything in my house ever.  Selling that collection helped pay for my closing costs on my condo.

And the me that had the aol accounts never thought in a million years that she would ever have the finances to own or anything and now I do and am stuck with it like an old tv that still works but is so obsolete that no one wants to touch it.  It’s just kind of how it rolls some time.  The old me didn’t have two pennies to rub together and now that I do, I am trapped in a tiny tiny hole of escrow.

It is what it is. 

And what it is, is time flying.  Flying past so much that this year is half over and I barely look at this blog.  It waits patiently for me as do the cabinets in my kitchen, all taped up and waiting for paint…which I will reply the same way I have for the past nine days…I’m going to take care of that tonight.

or tomorrow…or tomorrow…or tomorrow

(creeps in this petty pace til the last syllable of recorded time)

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