I've been reading my posts from seven years ago (Christ, it's been that long?) and it's kinda scary to read through. Some of it even painful. In doing so, I've discovered that:

-I'm not nearly as good as a writer as I thought I was
-I can't believe I revealed as much as I did
-I forgot about my unhealthy obsession with the Real World and the Real World/Road Rules competitions.
-I wrote way too much about politics
-Buffy too
-I wrote good reviews of not just "Signs" but "Attack of the Clones"
-I really came off as one depressed, angry, angst-ridden person who couldn't sleep and subsisted entirely on coffee and alcohol. As a result, the writing make me come off like one big, huge raw nerve, exposed pretty much everyone to read.

Good stuff.

Still, most of it comes off as the kind of thing one writes in their journal with all the encompassing embarrassment that comes with it.

The thing I'm realizing too is that there's a lot of stuff I let out and a lot of things I never got to write about and how that time was really much, much worse than I wrote about.

Oh, one more thing-- I started this here blog in October 2011, a few weeks after 9/11. During the time I was writing it, we went through umpteen terror alerts, two wars, all sorts of craziness. The blog is actually interesting in that it's a somewhat interesting time-capsule-- Life in post 9/11 America. Those were some weird and whacky times.