Hoarders, Electronic Edition. Episode 2: Flash Drives

Have you ever been to somebody's house, and they took out a box of random photos and started flipping through them, telling you non-sequiter stories about people you don't know and places you've never been?

Tonight's blog is the digital equivalent of that. Sorry. It's been a long week.

Instead of a box of photos, I present you with random discoveries from old flash drives found around my house.

Here are a few of my digital "treasures:"

User guidelines for an online community I managed in 2008. Funniest line: "As a baby-themed board, we expect discussions of a sexual nature."

An Excel spreadhseet of potential guests to invite to our wedding.

A photo of a dog we met in a bar in Cologne, Germany in 2005. His name was Charlie.

A series of selfies (before they were called that) which I edited, poorly, in my quest for the perfect MySpace profile photo.

The recipe and instructions for Amish Friendship Bread. I was stuck in a bread-baking loop for 6 months. The only way I could stop baking bread every 10 days was to move to another state.

Liner notes for mix CDs I made for friends I met on the Internet. If you can't meet someone in person, the next best way to make yourself known is by stringing your favorite songs together.

A series of photos from a baby shower my coworkers threw for me when I was pregnant with Evie. They pretended we were having a conference call, and then surprised me with a party, complete with gifts and a sugar-free cake.

A To-Do list from December 2006 including such tasks as "Order crib," "Get Christmas tree," and "Make playlist for the hospital."

A list entitled "Monica's Beliefs" written 10 years ago. I used the word "learnings" non-ironically, and I cringe at some of my misplaced enthusiasm for corporate management, but I still like this one:

"When everything falls apart, and I’m forced to choose between crying and laughing, I try to always choose laughter. If I can’t laugh, I apply the 5-year test: Will I still remember this event in 5 years? If the answer is Yes, then I probably should be taking it seriously."

I'll add the 2014 corollary: Will this be remotely interesting to me 10 years from now? If the answer is Yes, then I should probably save it.