Ten years ago, my very kind and very perceptive boyfriend at the time thought to make me a blog for my birthday. At first I was like, blog WHO? My first few posts were lost and misguided and rambly, at best. But then I started to realize what this blog could be, and then eventually, it became what it is: a reason for me to write something, literally anything, every day, a place for me to voice everything from feelings regarding dresses that look like pencils to gun violence, a place to store my memories (to the point where I think they really don’t get stored in my head anymore), and lastly, a very convenient way to keeps parents up to date on life things. I have since been writing on it every single day. There have been days where my commitment to posting something on it feels absurd, and more about box checking than anything else. I will leave significant life moments of human connection so that I might post something here. But still, I’m happy I’ve done it, every day, no matter what. It’s discipline, be it the narcissistic kind. It’s seen me through jobs and no jobs and new jobs and bad jobs and great jobs, boys I have and don’t want and boys I want an don’t have and boys I need but have never met, books I’ve half-read and books I’ve loved but since forgotten, trips I’ve tripped and trips I haven’t, feelings felt and words thunk and questions raised. And now I have them all here forever. I have a weird hope that I someday have a great grandkid who stumbles upon this blog when finding themselves freshman year of college. They find it wherever internet artifacts are kept. Boxes that float? They find this blog and they read all the years of it and turn it into a performance piece, having learned that their great great something did something with ….plays? And so suddenly, they find themselves making one. And so here’s to ten more years of content, of thoughts and pictures of cakes and shoes, of a soul that can be scrolled through.