Navel-gazing, part LXII

It's very hard to keep track of your own head. At least, it's hard for me to keep track of mine. What was I really like six or eight years ago? Was I as much like now-me as I tend to think I was, or was I very different? Would I have liked now-me? How have I changed? Is it how I wanted to change? Am I growing into a big stubborn crank, or was I built this way? Am I losing perspective, or gaining it? How did I hold conversations? Was I more shy?

I think that one of the things I miss most about having parents I was close to is that they always had a gigantic, holistic perspective on me and on my life -- and not only that, but they were almost as interested in thinking about my life as I was. (This is clearly not always a blessing. Doesn't mean I don't miss it some.) Now, I cobble that picture together out of things that I remember, and things that dilletante remembers, and things that other people remind me of occasionally. But, y'know, where's my overly-attentive loving objective third-party, so I can ask, "am I bitchier than I used to be?"