Zwölf Jahre Alt

Today, I completed my twelfth year of blogging. Yep, the big dozen, done and done.

It feels strange to realize that I’ve been blogging for nearly half of my life. When I started my first website (, if I remember correctly), my parents were against it, the internet was still a pretty scary place (2001, shudder), and I needed somewhere to call my own.

Despite the aversion that so many people in my life had against “weblogging,” before blogging became part of the common parlance, I wrote on. I put my inane, adolescent drivel down, pixel to screen, for years. I recorded quite diligently the trials and tribulations and triumphs of high school, of teen pregnancy, of college, of true love and heartbreak, of maturation, and of adulthood as I now conceive it.

You, my beloved anonymous (and some not so anonymous and therefore even more awesome) readers, have been so utterly patient and forgiving and understanding and accepting, and really, the best and most loyal friends I have. You’ve never waivered, and I’ve always come back.

Here’s to another twelve, and my, won’t we be old by then!


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