I’ve been doing a lot of spring purging and cleaning. These times come around often, probably once a year I do a sweep of the whole house, cleaning out nooks and crannies and freeing up the energy and the space for new things to come in. We call it “ridding” in our circle, and we rid anything that we don’t need. Trash, stuff we don’t use (usually always goes to the thrift store), old food, papers and mail. This time I wanted to make an effort to go through all my old birthday cards, a file document box we have that hasn’t been touched in about 4 years, and just a lot of our “paper” stuff that we are hanging onto.
This feels a lot to me like life cataloging. I have a lot of stuff from college, but unfortunately all my papers and things from high school were in a fire at my childhood home in 2009. I have a few little things, but my yearbooks and other special papers, pictures, etc. were all lost. I remember growing up a big box of old birthday cards and I wanted to recreate that for myself, here.
Before we had screens we had lazy afternoons reading old cards and looking through old pictures. I wanted to bring that energy back into my life. I also have a lot of journals, detailing my thoughts over the last 20 years that are cringe and sweet, and I’m glad that I have them.
That got me thinking, where can I life catalog online? I’m an elder mil, so I went through the gambit. I had my own website, a GeoCities site with my fanfiction, my LiveJournal, my Xanga, my Blogger, my own personal website, and then wafted onto Facebook, and spread out onto Twitter, Instagram, etc.
How can I life catalog online? I started with Xanga.
I recently was able to access my old Xanga archives, which is a lot harder than you might think. You first have to remember your username (malo_06) and then your password. Then, you download your archive. You then have to upload the .XML file to a Wordpress account (luckily I had one from all my blogging in the past, ha!). Then you’re able to see all your posts - including formatting, comments, pictures, etc. I shared A LOT of Missy Higgins song lyrics and utilized the bold, italic, underline. That’s all we had!
When our Boomer parents warned us that everything online was there forever, they weren’t really talking about 2004 - 2011. It was really difficult to find and access, and although I had my Xanga in 2004, the earliest archive posts only reach back to 2005.
My writing was giving pre-frontal lobe development, but I was consistent. I remember I had a computer in my room that I would log onto every night and write about my day. We were all open and honest. Sharing with our chest - and not really realizing that you can twist your words, pictures, and snippets of your life to show what you wanted to show. To make others jealous. Like now.
In high school, our friend’s mom revealed she read all of our Xanga posts. It didn’t matter, we were still open and honest. There was no hiding, or muting. We didn’t care or even feel embarrassed by the feelings that we were sharing with the whole world.
Some of my favorite quotes —
When I looked at the comments — all my friends were just right there, like a digital birthday card or note that you passed in class. theonlyRICANinchs, encouraged9817, leaners07, StoreBought_Soap, meglovesyou8907, I_Know_2Much…
I did this whole process around December of last year. I had just gotten word (and when I say word, I mean added to a text thread, another digital note) that a high school friend, Josh, my first myspace-relationship-official-boyfriend, someone I was close to during those formative pre-frontal lobe years, someone I really would like to remember, someone I would like to life catalog, was nearing the end of his life.
I was able to send a text message to him the night I found out. We lost touch not long after high school. I probably hadn’t talked to him in 15 years. I donated to his GoFundMe for medical bills. I never got a reply, message marked “delivered” — there are no rules to the end of life, so I wanted to make sure I got what I needed off my chest — but the next day, a blinking “Friend Request” on Facebook. I approved immediately.
He passed away about a week after I learned he was sick. So impossibly quick. We had a memorial service in January at our old high school, in the new Performing Arts Center, and all my digital commenters were there, in the flesh. All of us had lost touch, for the most part, but back together, we all had the same memories, the same catalogs.
There were at least 25 photo albums at the service. Not enough time to go through them all. I remembered - we used to run through disposable cameras weekly. Drop them off at Target and come back a week later for our pictures — doubles so you could gift the good ones to your friends. We laughed there and shared memories. The good, the bad, the tears and the pee-your-pants laughter. It all smelled the same.
If it wasn’t clear, my high school crew were the Drama kids. We were all in theatre class, competing at One Act competitions, performing musicals, etc. Our world revolved around the stage, rehearsal, cast lists and Drama drama. We all ate lunch in our drama teacher’s classroom. We had the same stuff going on at school, no matter what was going on at home. We had all had the same hour in between school ending and rehearsal starting, to go get Sonic drinks (not allowed in the Theatre though) and gossip about who likes who and who’s getting the lead role. We ran tight.
Most of us lived for music. We passed around mix CDs like candy - spending our afternoons copying them for each other if there was a particularly good mix of songs, mostly all downloaded from Limewire or ripped on our computer, borrowed CDs from the library. On the way to the funeral, we listened to Gavin Degraw, Chariot Stripped. I loved Missy Higgins. His ringtone on my phone was Sweet Tangerine by The Hush Sound.
Lately I’ve been trying to remember the defining things about him. I thought I saw his old Toyota Corolla the other day. Did it have a spoiler? Was it silver or gold? It feels like a ghost in the machine, looking through each Xanga post grasping for any comment from DevilDucky2, to see what he had to say to me 20 years ago, as I don’t know what he even would have said to me now. Useless comfort. It was too late.
The other night I had a dream, he wasn’t dead! It was all just a joke. He revealed himself to us, looking like he did in high school, young. When I woke up, I wondered if he had come to visit through my dreams.
It is so strange whenever someone exits your life that meant a lot to you at one time. We obviously moved on from our relationship when we were 17- mostly friends but sometimes romantic. When he passed he left behind a fiancé. I’ve been with the love of my life for almost 7 years. We grew up, got jobs, got new friends, had new experiences, found great new loves, but just apart. We never talked. If we missed each other, neither of us knew.
When reading some old posts and grabbing screenshots today, I found this comment from him, and when I read it, I remembered feeling so comforted at the time. In response to the last screenshot I posted —
Here’s what I know about him - he always smelled great. Curve classic. He knew the best music and had epic mix CDS. He was always down for a night drive. He was sarcastic and mean sometimes, but had a killer heart. He was a Scorpio. He was a rebel, and had tattoos before they were legal in Oklahoma, smoked Camel Crushes. He was always down for a dance, for a hug. He was my prom date. He was a good actor, and singer. He had a hard exterior. My parents were wary. I used to call my mom and tell her I was working late and then go over to his house, even for 10 mins just to say hi and see how he was doing. The first night I was at college, he came up and we went to Wal-Mart at 3am, just because I could and I had that freedom. He always had that freedom. I don’t even remember the last time we talked.
Writing this post is a trip down memory lane - listening to old music and searching for old photos. Crying, a little bit. I went back to listen to some Missy Higgins, a staple in my 17 year old life. I noticed she released a new song earlier this month, April 2024, and it felt like a gift. The Second Act.
How do we reconcile aging and the seasons of life? How do we reconcile loved ones gone, without any closure? I don’t know. But at least we have the music, the photos and the memories. A quiet comfort. Rest in peace, Josh.
Mal xoxo
Beautiful tribute. 💞