In the midst of a five-hour-long web-surfing session, you find yourself increasingly curious and nostalgic—wondering whatever happened to that first Facebook page you created or your old MySpace.

For whatever mysterious reason, there are instances when we feel a desperate desire to search for vestiges of our old selves. Earlier, I did call it nostalgia, but perhaps it is a form of self-loathing.

After stumbling upon my old MySpace page (which I so naively thought had been obliterated in some vast black hole beyond the Internet) I regrettably found a string of embarrassing, cringe-worthy photos, status updates and music playlists.

Horrified, but too intrigued to look away from the angst-y mess of my high school years, I gathered the courage to keep scrolling and continued my torturous journey down memory lane.

I flitted through pictures that depicted a long-winded story of wildly confused teenagers with skyrocketing hormones stuck in a bumbling, awkward limbo—a time when parents and teachers told us we were too old for 25-cent-stick-on tattoos and binge-watching ‘Spongebob Squarepants’ but too immature to watch the entirety of an R-rated film during class.

I was immersed in a time where finding the perfect background theme for my MySpace page and rewriting and rewriting and rewriting my biography was not only the highlight of my day, but a determined quest to find myself. It was a time where we pined after or avoided cliques like the plague.

It was a time when we became utterly disheartened when one of our desired top five candidates on our page rejected the illustrious position of No. 1.

While the filters and captions in our photos have become more elaborate and the soundtrack to our lives went from a Screamo band to Hip-Hop or Indie group, I have noticed not a single change in our status updates.

We still feel inclined to document every dreadfully mundane and unimportant occurrence of our day—as though you attending your dentist appointment or ordering from Jimmy John’s is supposed to help me get through my day. One particular line from the haunting Madison Montgomery monologue from the hot and twisted show “American Horror Story” is what resonates with me when thinking about the plethora of pointless statuses on my feed: “Social media allows us to post when we fart or have a sandwich for all the world to see.”

And now with Snapchat we have even further access to the 300 insignificant seconds of our friends’ lives and of strangers. But who needs hours of searching for long lost pages of our petty teenage existence when we now have the trending app Timehop?

The title of the app speaks for itself. You get to hop through moments in time that go back as far as four years. Let your MySpace page finally expire and cheers to happy time traveling through this remarkably entertaining and eerie app!

Marge Clemente is a senior english major and can be reached at 581-2812 or [email protected].