A few days ago [2] I opened GMail and got this message:
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“FutureMe.org” <mailer@futureme.org> |
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Sep 1 (3 days ago) |
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pastme@futureme.org |
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annie.rebekah@gmail.com |
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Sep 1, 2007 1:03 PM |
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The following is an e-mail from the past, composed on Sunday, January 7, 2007, and sent via FutureMe.org
Eh? Then I remember [vaguely] sending this email because some Internet-savvy friend [sortof] found this website [FutureMe.org, shockingly enough] where you can send emails to yourself IN THE FUTURE. No, REALLY. Because apparently I got one. Barring discussions of THE space-time continuum [if you must know, that’s not my forte and I don’t care to understand it, and is it space-time or time-space?], isn’t that GREAT? I’m almost tempted to email myself in-the-future-one-year-from-now EVERY DAY so that I can know just EXACTLY what I did a year ago [har dee har har, Annie, isn’t that what JOURNALS are for?]!
Unfortunately, the content of the email wasn’t all that juicy as far as I’m concerned. I mean, it asked if I was still in love with Some Person, which I wasn’t, and it also asked if I had found a “Dashing Gemini” [Past-Me’s words, not mine!], which I haven’t, and, more importantly, it asked me if I was in Egypt, which I’m not, despite approx. four [plus] years of planning it to be that way. This made me feel a little dumb because instead of up-and-moving to Cairo I up-and-moved to Boston, and even though Boston in my mind is a lot scarier than the Motherland, most people have different perceptions of what scary is and even though people are bad drivers, Boston is Not Scary [I have my own reasons for thinking it is, but that’s for Therapy and Not For You!]. All in all, I’d just like to say this: I moved to Boston largely because of Youthful Abandon and I’m not ready to give up all the things that come with it yet, like short-shorts and hollarin’ and going out for beers and PDA and dancing all night. So, FutureMe, when the cold cold winter hits and you’re pissed off because you’re not dodging cat-callers and little children and cabs built in ’84, just remember your PastMe pursuits of Youth, Eternal. And, from FutureMe to PastMe: Don’t say I didn’t warn you.