Seven Years of The Suitcase Scholar: A Hastily-Written Happy Birthday
I forgot that today is my blog’s birthday. Timehop reminded me. I feel badly. What kind of cold hearted blogger forgets to wish her blog a happy birthday? This kind, apparently.
But I’m pretty sure The Suitcase Scholar will forgive me. After all, it’s a non-sentient virtual construct. So, like, its feelings literally cannot be hurt. You know, because it doesn’t have feelings.
Still. I want to write something to commemorate this day. I did a really thorough job of documenting the evolution of The Suitcase Scholar in last year’s birthday post. So this year, a short love letter instead. Ahem…
Dear Suitcase Scholar,
I’ve loved you since the day you were born, seven years ago as I headed out on my way to a writing conference in Vermont. You were so little then. When I look at you today, I can’t believe you are the same blog as that dot-Wordpress site I brought into the world in 2009.
The world is different now. Today there’s Instagram and Snapchat and Pinterest. Images are in and words are on their way out–in 2016 if you’re not a meme, you’re tl;dr. People like to say that blogging is dead. But I disagree. I there were times this past year when I thought perhaps both of us had reached the end of the line.
But we’re both still here. Hell to the fucking yes on that one.
Happy birthday, little blog. I love you more than you know.