time travel is possible

today i will not be screaming fuck you, google.

no friends, today, google has supplied me with a good hearty chuckle served up with a side of humility.

i went back to look at my very first emails in my gmail account from january 2005. if i remembered the password or wasn't so lazy, i'd try to login to my hotmail account from college. i'm sure there's more than a few gems there.

but back to google. my pal google here has reminded me of some funny stuff, that i, as an elephant, have surprisingly forgotten. the very first email convo was enough to make crack the fuck up, but i think i need to set the stage a little bit for you.

b and i had been dating about a year and had recently moved out of our home town to where we reside now. i had taken a part time office job while looking for something more permanent. i've never, ever had a desk job before this or after this.

i was an assistant for a concrete company, basically doing logistics and admin shit. needless to say, i was bored out of my mind. i played on the internet all day long, pretending to be ordering supplies from staples. also, i sent many emails to just about anyone i knew about the minutiae of my day.

so there it is, the first thing i read this morning was a string of emails about a black ops garbage conspiracy and a shit-talker. and i don't mean shit-talker like someone who badmouths someone else, but literally, a man who talked on his cell phone while he took a shit. and by talked on his cell phone i mean made sales calls to clients.

reading words of mine from so long ago almost felt as if i was a new observer in the whole situation, sort of like when you hear your own voice recorded and played back for you.

my tone was goofy, a bit condescending, and definitely full of curses. i even ended the final email with 'TMB forever'. (for 'that's my balls' reference please go here).

is that really how i talk/write? it was funny, but also, a bit shocking to see evidence of a style that appears to be unchanged over the course of many years. i used to want to be a career writer. i used to want to write for fabulous foodie magazines and talk about the intricacies of different dishes. i imagined i could have flexibility and employ a safe amount of creativity in my career.

then i took a close look at food writers and realized how awful they are. not only does most food writing read like sandpaper in your mouth, but it manages to destroy everything about food that i love so much with nitpicking. not to mention that my 'style' is apparently not mature or dry enough to be very successful.

so now i blog. i write here on this little slice of internet in hopes of learning more and more about my writing style and to see if there is such a thing as a career in writing, for me at least. maybe, years from now i'll look back on these posts and reflect about how they have or haven't helped to shape my voice.

do you go back in time to read your old words? do you like what you find? i'm curious to know if you experience more fluctuations in subject matter and tone of voice or if your style is inherent and will show in your writing no matter what the topic.