Inbox Archaeology

I checked my Yahoo!  email Sent Items this morning.

The folder is set to list items by date, and normally when I wished to check a recent message, I needed to simply scan the first page.

What I found was astonishing.

Skilled as I think I am at managing the size and scope of my various data storage worlds, I apparently have not deleted anything, since I opened the account in 2002. In a world where we exchange information via texts, Facebook messages and Wall posts, LinkedIn emails, direct tweets, AIM and related chat clients, there are endless ways to connect. I had used the Yahoo! account for what you probably use your gmail, hotmail, et al for; some personal communication, signing up for various online programs and services, and for notes from Mom.

8 years of snapshots of my life, preserved like hieroglyphics on stone tablets, electronically residing in the Cloud, waiting to be discovered, and ruminated upon.

I connected with an old friend in 2003, having not talked to her since 1993-ish:


10 years. Lots can happen.

Much has.

I’ve worked at several Bay Area radio stations… it’s going really well these days, at least this month!

 Kim is married; she and I broke up about a year after we saw you. She is living somewhere here.

I live with Ben, he’s the best roommate ever; we have a lot of fun. My best friend lives about 5 blocks down the street in San Bruno..Our house is party central. We cook a lot, drink good wine …

I’m engaged; the wedding is May 7th in XXXX..very small,. reception the following night in XXXXX. First time ever to take the big step.

She (fiancée) lives in XXXX so I see her only about once a week…we’ll have plenty of time together this summer.

I just bought a new Toyota Tacoma yesterday, my dream vehicle. Pick it up this weekend.

Worked at a dot-com for a year, the whole company folded and I got booted.

Travel: all five Hawaiian Islands, Italy, Germany, Canada and Mexico; off to London and Milan in January.

 Life is a solid A- right now. Life has a lot of ups and downs, you are perhaps happiest when everything is LEVEL for a little while, you know?

I’ve thought about you a lot over the years, I have fun memories of hanging out with you. Glad you are happy and doing well.



I still have that beloved Tacoma, which I will never willingly relinquish, but there’s not much in that email that represents my state of being in 2010. My marriage ended; I’ve been to a few more places around the world. My old roommate Ben is married and about to become a father, my best friend and I are still tight. But about that A- grade..?



Mon, December 8, 2003 7:44:05 AM

Did you get the Windows 98 Disc Yet?

From: John Scott <> 

Hey Dad-


Talked to Mom yesterday, we’re working on a Christmas trip plan….will let you know.

 Did you get that disc.. Have you had a chance to try and install it yet?

Let me know…

Love you.



Windows 98? LOL!  What a primitive piece of crap. Bill Gates should thank me for sharing a clean copy of that OS with someone.

I spent two hours wading through reams of epistles, missives, flirtations, sadness, heartbreak, heads ups, whopper victories and spectacular defeats. It was the emotional equivalent of finding a pile of old photos and getting lost in memories looking through them. Words…doubts about dreams ultimately realized, words I wish I could take back, promises kept. I found some social media elevator pitches that I had sent to a few influencers. I’m not positive, but I think might have invented Facebook!

I laughed out loud a few times. Some of the emails were deleted, representing painful memories I wish to never again be reminded of.

I forwarded a few to the original recipients, with a “look what I found!” note attached.

My email archaeological site now being fully delimited, and with a flood of memories recovered, I will likely today ponder; how will my existence be described in 2018?

Who will be my Ultimate Wing Girl? What empire will I rule? Where will the house be? Where will I have traveled? What challenges did I conquer? Did the Tacoma make it to the finish line?

The great unknown, called Life. 

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