I'm not who I was...

I have always blogged. I mean even before we were calling it 'blogging'. Waaay back in the day, I was on the net typing, cutting pasting - it was hardly as high tech and simplified back then as it is now and you did stuff the hard way. Before then, I always kept a diary or journal of some sort. You know, the one with the lock and key and before then any spare book I could lay my hands on and write furiously in when no one was watching, at like 12 midnight. Or in some weird encrypted code, that I made up, just so no one could decipher my steamy secrets. Oooh, steamy secrets at sixteen? Yah. Nada. but it made me feel important like I really had something tor hide, you know? Anyway, what sucked was that I invariably almost always forgot my code and I couldn't read it either. I tell you, my life was so complicated.

So why did I bring this up? I stumbled upon an online blog I used to have way back when (I mean, who knew it still existed? Note to self - watch out for carbon(?) / cyber (?) foot prints)and I fell out laughing! Oh, I crack me up, to say the least. What gets me is this really was me, and people really did read it, but it was SO ... gauche is the only word that comes to mind. And how I could be that way at twenty something is beyond me. But click on the link and enjoy the ride. So there is hope for all mankind, for none was as unfabulous as I. Way back when. But while I love the authenticity and 'journey' that was me then, (for in truth I was still finding out who I was), but I am so glad for maturing and morphing and still maintaining my inner me, while letting 'Prada Principal' emerge. Viola! Hello world - doesn't look like she's going back anytime soon. :-)

The moral of this post is - the good thing about being in your thirties is you are no longer in your twenties. Yay!

ps. This is where I talk about my date with my future hubby. We had NO idea that some seven years later, we'd be married with two bambinos. Scary, huh?

By the Way, love, love this song By Brandon Heath titled, aptly, 'I'm not who I was...'
live fabulously, pp