I know I'm not old. 32 is not old. 32 is like four 8-year-olds, or two 16-year-olds. Or even if 32 is like one 32-year-old, it's still not that old, and yet I feel kind of old right now because I'm blogging from a bus hurtling up the New Jersey Turnpike and it's completely blowing my mind. I'M FROM THE FUTURE. Look, I even took a picture of myself. I TOOK A PICTURE OF MYSELF WITH MY COMPUTER AND NOW I'M POSTING IT ON MY BLOG THAT I'M WRITING WHILE SITTING ON A BUS. IN NEW JERSEY.
Eight 4-year-olds
Sorry about all the caps lock action, I'm just a little freaked out by the advances in technology. I still remember when the newest development in travel communications was the Magnadoodle.
My brother and I used to sit in the back of the car writing messages to other motorists, like "Hi!" or "My brother is a doody!" And now I can just send an email from a moving bus in New Jersey to his cell phone in Texas. It just wobbles my brain.
Eight 4-year-olds
My brother and I used to sit in the back of the car writing messages to other motorists, like "Hi!" or "My brother is a doody!" And now I can just send an email from a moving bus in New Jersey to his cell phone in Texas. It just wobbles my brain.
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