Friday, January 11, 2013

Dear Way-in-the-FutureMe

Do you think we'll still be blogging in 100 years? Or even 50? 10? Or, at some point, maybe our brains will just be injected into the mainframe (LIKE THE X-FILES) and they'll go whizzing by each other, all speedy quick and fancy free, which means we'll all be able to hang out together, in real life, only real life will be way different because it all exists inside your computer-brain. I mean, really, we're halfway there, if you think about it.

I think I keep mentioning this, but I'm still working on a FutureMe Project, which consists of writing my future-self letters every week and sending them a year into the future. It's actually been really fun, sort of like keeping a journal that I don't get to read (at least not for a while), which is nice because it keeps the navel-gazing down to the bare minimum. I'm actually pretty impressed with myself (honestly, it doesn't take much) because I've actually stuck with this project for over six months and, for most projects I dream up, that's almost unheard of. Anyway, I feel like if I keep talking about it, it'll keep me accountable, even though no one but me cares if I stop doing it. (Dear PresentMe: DON'T STOP THIS PROJECT OR I WILL PUNCH YOU IN THE THROAT. LOVE YOU!)

Sometimes I think about sending myself a letter fifty years into the future. Maybe I already did, and I don't remember, and I'll get it in, like, 49 years, I don't know. I don't know what kind of shit Past!Jennie was up to a year ago, because I haven't started getting my weekly updates yet. Though, if I were to write a letter to myself, 50 years into the future, it'd probably be something like this. And if I did send one, I really, really hope I get it in 50 years because otherwise that means A) email no longer exists or B) I'm dead, and both of those options sound like a major bummer:

Dear Me/You,

Hello! How are you? You're, like, super old now. 80! Do you feel 80? Cause you look 80 AHAHAHAHA jk, I have no idea what you look like. Because I don't have a crystal ball. OMG DO YOU HAVE A CRYSTAL BALL IN THE FUTURE? Anyway, I assume you look super old. Because you're old. SO OLD. OMG, how did you get that old? I don't even feel like I'm 30, but you probably remember that since you were me at one time. Or maybe you don't remember, because that was 50 years ago.

What's the world like now? Because here is what I imagine: Everyone drives flying cars and rides around on hoverboards, you take pills in the morning that contain all of the food you need for the day (which solved the world's obesity crisis, right?), and you can surf the internet WITH YOUR BRAIN. Am I close? I also hope that you've somehow figured out how to build a time machine and used it to travel back and play with baby dinosaurs. And the only reason you didn't come back to say hi to me at some point is because you didn't want to destroy the space-time continuum. Fingers crossed!

I hope you've had a good life. I mean, obviously. Why would I hope that you had a shitty life? That would be a dick move. I wonder if you had any kids or grandkids or if you just stuck with puppies and grandpuppies. Have you ever been to the moon? OH MY GOD DO YOU LIVE ON THE MOON? I wish you could write a letter to the past so I know what the future is like. I'm very impatient, as you know, and I don't want to wait 50 years to see for myself.

Anyway, I hope you're having a good day/week/year/half-a-century! Also, I hope you don't have to wear diapers. That seems like it'd be a drag.



PS: Do you still laugh when people say butt or fart or poop or duty (heh, DOODY) etcetera etcetera? I hope so.

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