Twenty Years

This message popped up after I just sent an email to a
fellow blogger:

Email delivery date: 2025 (yes, 2025).
Want to talk to yourself in the future? It's easy.
Just make your own Email Time Capsule and Yahoo! Mail
will work with our friends at Forbes.com to deliver it
in 20 years.

Twenty years? Do I really want to remind myself of how
lame I was twenty years from now?

I could only imagine what my email time capsule would
look like from 1985 (even though we didn't have
Prodigy until about 1990):

Dear future me,
I love pudding pops. Tommy B. kissed me after i drew a
good picture of a bike. When I am 27, I will be a cool
person. I have to go watch You Can't Do That on
Television. Bye!

Ahhh, memories.

I believe it was 1985 when I heard my mom call another
driver "jerk off" in a moment of anger. I found out it
wasn't something "nice girls" should say after I
yelled it out to the person who was driving slowly in
front of us (I had to get home to watch The Wizard of
Oz, for God's sake!) and my mom and my aunt freaked
out. I still don't say it. Well, not as an adjective,
anyway. :)