...is dangerous. One minute, you're flipping through old journals, and suddenly you find yourself with bleary eyes and cramped legs after spending 3 hours reading your entire Facebook message history. Hm.
In only very tenuously related news, my grandpa used to get a magazine for old people called Reminisce. It was mainly about the 30s-50s, and I would read it and wonder if someday people would write so fondly of the 90s. I'd like to think that someone, somewhere, will be able to wax rhapsodic about Vanilla Ice and Y2K and the dot-com bubble and Titanic and Monica Lewinsky.
Well, maybe not Monica.
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