tat tectonics.

geology tat
geology tat2
back in november, i decided to do some major gmail maintenance (i had been using abby728 as a login and amyruthmarsh as an alias for about 5 years, but with the purchase of my 1st iphone and the prospect of having to click “send as” every time i wanted to email someone, i decided it was time to let go of abby728 and port everything over to amyruthmarsh). usually, i love these kind of internet time sucks, but i had actively avoided this one in particular because i knew it was going to be such a fucking pain in the ass. i mean, going through 40,000 archived emails (i love gmail, i’m an agressive archiver, i never delete anything, and i had ported all of my college webmail into abby728 before graduating) as well as my entire on the record chat history was not even my twisted idea of fun.

up until this point, i had only imagined how annoying it would be, technically. like, “ugh, copying and pasting and labeling and saving and exporting and importing all of this shit via some super unreliable mail client? life sux.” but the spectrum of terrible widened pretty quickly after i got started and realized every moment of my legal adult life – the good, the bad, the great, the terrible, the awful, the hilarious, the insignificant, the momentous, the honest, the dishonest, the judgmental, the unconditional … everything – had been recorded and stored in the catacombs of this ill-chosen email address. this wasn’t just going to be a painful project, technically. this was going to be a painful project, late night at the holocaust museum emotionally.

sometimes, the emails made me cry (like the ones from my dad i never responded to). sometimes, i didn’t recognize the sound of my own voice (like the ones to my improv troupe a few weeks after i started college). sometimes, i was impressed by my courage (like the ones to a more than a friend asking him to reflect on our relationship and be honest about his feelings and actions). the transfer took about a week to complete and when it was all over, when every email had been absorbed and unarchived and accounted for, i felt totally wrecked. but. but! i also felt totally alive. like … fuck yea! the things i’ve experienced still effect me! i actively participate in the fabric of my life! i’m emotionally capable of getting myself to tomorrow! i’m upset right now! i’m a human being!

check.
fucking.
plus.

ps – i also have a theory about 20-something tectonics and think this tattoo and i are b’shert.