Message from the past

Hey. What are the odds that you'll still be using this email address now? Or, for that matter, that I'm alive or you're alive. I hope we're both alive. I hope we're both alive and well and you can call me up (or vidphone me in my hovercraft) and remind me of this email I sent from the past. That is assuming this website works in 20 years and does as it asserts — send messages "into the future." Or Claire, maybe I'll tell you sometime in the next twenty years that I sent this, or such happenings will be common at any rate so you won't at all be surprised or even much impressed. Today I ought to be be turning 50. I suppose if one of us has to be dead by now, it'd work better for this email if it were me, since if it's you no one will read it. Or, wait, maybe Liberty will check your email then. ****, enough of the morbity: we're all alive and well and they've cured everything and we're happy and in our biosuits ready for whatever life has to throw at us. It's early early morning, Sunday, October 2nd, 2005. I'm at my parents' place in Arizona. I've got a crappy caffeine-withdrawl headache and my ears are ringing like mad and, ugh, this laptop is warm and it's making me sweat. I'm prepping for my Japan trip, which is to say I'm waiting for it to happen, thinking about it here and there, but focusing more on local issues like small deadlines for little things, and when the next time might arrive when I'll be getting laid. You know, normal stuff. Whether we're both alive or not, this me will be gone. It's a me just about to turn 30...something I find...I don't know. It's not terrible, I like being wiser, not so fond of the body failing, but we've talked all that to *****. Pluses and minuses, yes. I'm still a bit hung up on legacy...mine. Liike, wanting one. A good one. Wanting things I do to matter. There are so many people. Blah blah blah. Ha. Ahem. Well so much for poignancy, I'm all caught up in the moment and not so certain this'll work and not so certain it'll matter much if it does. Another novelty in a world chock-a-block full. Twenty years. I'd send Liberty an email, but y'all haven't set one up for her yet. I'll have to suggest it to you and Pat, then you guys can write her all kinds of emails from here. La! Love, You know who