this blog began to exist ten years ago today. i lived on the top floor of a hundred-year-old triplex built on san francisco bedrock; joe and i could watch the fog roll across russian hill from our little living room, and we could hear the cable car rattle and ring down hyde street as we lay in bed at night. my hair was bright red, unless it was magenta or black; i had four more piercings, and a pale crater where i'd mashed out a cigarette on the back of my hand. i worked at the SPCA and would hide newborn kittens in the pharmacy with me; being tucked in a box with a surgical glove full of warm water was better than being put to sleep, at least for a little while. the coffee-colored fur around jude's amputation had just grown back. the world trade center would be attacked in less than two weeks, and my parents' divorce would be finalized at christmas.
the unspoken rules of blogging were pretty simple: be honest and humane. don't let anyone buy you. say things no one else can say. the internet communities of those days would be as shocked by their descendents as twenty-two-year-old lauren would be by your narrator, perhaps, but i remember those rules, and at my best i follow them all.
thank you for being here with me.