The High School Xanga Lives Again

As a high schooler, I loved my Xanga. When its popularity decreased and Facebook became the new thing, I apologized to my Xanga and felt guilty for leaving it behind. As time went on, I didn’t see the point in taking it down, so I left it up, filling up a small section of the Internet with my rambling, jumbled, high schooler thoughts. Occasionally I’d go back to it, finding myself somewhat surprised by the good questions younger me was asking, but mostly horrified at the oversharing and complete lack of regard for the true publicness of the Internet.

Not too long ago, Xanga as we knew it ceased to exist. Archives were made available for those not wanting to switch to Xanga 2.0, and, unable to bear the thought of all those words, however embarrassing they sometimes were, being gone forever, I made sure to download mine. Finally, tonight, I uploaded them here, wanting to be able to walk down memory lane through those words should the mood strike me.

But then, for a few horrifying minutes, all of those archives were again public. Right here on this little blog.

As soon as I realized it I went through and changed the settings, but had you been on here at the right time, poking through the archives, you would’ve gotten a taste of High School Brianna.

Back when I scoffed at proper capitalization because I thought it made my writing look cool and casual, and I thought that being a Christian meant you had to share a Bible verse in every post (so, of course, I did).

But every once in a while there were glimpses of the future Brianna, of the way I think and write now. As unpolished as some of these writings were, I think I was picking up on things I didn’t entirely have words for yet because I had only begun to taste their truth. I’ll leave you with a snippet of one of my posts (in its original font, for the full effect), ponderings on the song “The Shadow Proves the Sunshine” by the band Switchfoot.


crooked souls trying to stay up straight
dry eyes in the pouring rain, when
the shadow proves the sunshine
the shadow proves the sunshine

two scared little runaways
hold fast till the break of daylight
when the shadow proves the sunshine
the shadow proves the sunshine


i really like this song. i think it has a good point. without shadows, we wouldn’t be able to appreciate the sunshine, and the shadows prove that the sunshine is really there. i think the same holds true in life. if life was just good good good all the time, and everyone was always happy, we wouldn’t appreciate the happiness…it would just be a way of life. to really be happy, we have to know what sadness feels like, and occasionally we have to be reminded of sadness so we can appreciate happiness. 


Til next time…


p.s. Have you ever been surprised by things you wrote when you were younger?

Posts from the Past: January 2006

A few days ago I was scrolling through my Xanga, that wonderful ol’ blog that I still reflect on guiltily at times for abandoning for the lure of Facebook. It provides an interesting glimpse of my life for the two years or so I actively used it. I’m a little appalled at some of the things young me wrote–thinly veiled rants against specific people, self-centeredness, and angst galore.

Yet there are other posts that have hints of wisdom even older me can learn from. Consider this snippet from a post I wrote in January 2006:

Overall, it has been a very people-filled year. But really, isn’t that what life is, for the most part? Interactions with other people? It seems that way. I would say this was probably my most people-filled year  that I can remember. I met many, many new people, most wonderful, but there are always a few bad apples on every tree, right? I’ve missed people so much it hurt, and been overjoyed at seeing people I hadn’t seen in a long time. I’ve laughed until my stomach hurt, but also cried myself to sleep a time or two. I’ve had days I would relive in a heartbeat, and days that I wouldn’t want to relive if you paid me a hundred dollars. I’ve been so happy I could burst and sad and angry enough to punch someone. I became friends with people I’ll probably never see again, and also with people that I never thought I would become friends with.

And now I’m wondering what will happen this year, and I know a lot of things will be changing, but I KNOW that God won’t. As I look back, I know that God was always there, through the stinky times and the awesome ones. So today’s verse is one that is filled with hope for the future.

Jeremiah 29:11: “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.'” Yup. God’s always there, and He’s got big plans for me this year. I’m excited to find out what they are.

Years later, a lot of those things still ring true. Graduating from college has given new meaning to the phrase, “I became friends with people I’ll probably never see again.” I have encountered oodles of change since writing that, yet indeed; God hasn’t changed. And though I sit in uncertainty, in waiting and seeking, he has plans. Plans I cannot see, plans I may not understand, plans I might not like; but plans all the same.

Fifteen-year-old me had more insight than I would’ve given her credit for. Perhaps I shall have to seek more wisdom from her via the annals of Xanga.

Til next time…