I’m sitting on my laptop in my new apartment, with my husband, just checking my email and paying the bills. All the sudden, I hear a PING! The familiar sound of a notification coming from one social networking cite or another. But.. it isn’t some old friend commenting on my new marriage status on Facebook: “Oh, Karin! You two are so sweet together! I’m so happy for you! Sorry I couldn’t make it to the wedding!” Yeah, I get it, you’re too busy or too timid to live life anywhere other than behind a computer screen. But that’s ok. I’ll take it 🙂 Well, I think to myself, It couldn’t be my email… I just checked it. It can’t possibly be Twitter… I stopped tweeting back in high school when I realized my thoughts weren’t really that share-worthy after all… WAIT! My thoughts… I swear I remember writing out my thoughts in way more characters than a tweet could ever hold….I turn to my husband, “Sweetheart, I have a confession. I wrote a blog when I was in high school. I mean, all my friends had one, so I made one too. I’ve changed, and this isn’t really me anymore…it’s actually kind of embarrassing.” My sweet, loving, understanding husband proceeds to say, “Aw, honey, don’t worry, I won’t judge you. We were all stupid high school kids once.” I smile. And then I type in that unforgettable web address, karingirl.wordpress.com. Karingirl. The embarrassing email my parents created for me as a child, which I soon grew fond of. After all, I’m Karin, and I’m a girl. Where’s the shame in that? It’s much more creative than the email I created for myself, keforstho. What is that? Pieces and parts of my name? I come to the realization that maybe my parents deserve more recognition than I offer. Anyway, I type in that web address, and low and behold, the little notification star in the corner starts blinking orange. How could this be? I haven’t even touched this blog in years, and my friends haven’t seemed to be using theirs either… the blog connections sort of died out a while ago. So who commented on my blog? Slowly but surely, I move the mouse over to that eager notification, and click it…
It turns out, it’s just one of those anticlimactic “Andy237smiles likes your post “Lame Confessions” Awkward. Of all posts, this random blogger who I have never met now knows my personal secrets. And even worse, I just shared with my husband a plethora of my awkward high school thoughts, this being my biggest confession yet. Oh, the irony. Thanks for shoving it in my face, Andy237smiles. Good thing you have 237 of them, because I’m sure as heck not smiling.
My life momentarily caves in. But not really. I’m just dramatic in that way. (and even now that I’m grown up and married, I still am. I hate to break it to you, past me.) But I do get a little upset, thinking to myself, Why did I write all of this down? Random people know about me! This crap is forever documented! My friends probably didn’t even care that much. What was my purpose? Wait… what if my husband actually found out about me through my blog? Soooo many nerve racking questions come into my brain. I begin over thinking it. Thinking maybe the man I am now in love with actually pursued me on my blog before he ever had the guts to in real life. Awkward. Awkward. AWKWARD. Life, at this point, could not be anymore awkward.
Eventually, I let it go. I realize I’m happy. I have landed a solid life, with a best friend who cares about me more than anything right by my side. The awkwardness is in the past. There is nothing to question. Life is what it is. And how I got here, I do not know. But what does it matter?
Dear future me,
I laugh at your story, because it is exactly what I fantasize my life being like when I’m you, hopefully sooner than later. I realize this revelation of my stupidity will someday happen. But for now, I love writing. And blogging is just what I’ll do. It’s momentary satisfaction, and this hasty satisfaction is typically frowned upon. But blogging is pretty harmless, right? I mean, even the consequences you have told me about aren’t all to bad. If blogging like this gets me a great husband, heck, I’ll take him! Haha. That was a joke. And a momentary regret is something I’m willing to sacrifice, because blogging is just way too fun. Thanks for the heads up.