This week, a tiny little news item appeared on the right side of my screen as I scanned something vastly more important. In no uncertain terms, it alerted me to the end of an era.

Hotmail is dying.

Yes, folks, it’s true.

The 350 million of us who at one point signed up for accounts with hotmail will now be forcibly “encouraged” to migrate over from memorable old monikers like soccer4evaEVA1996@hotmail.com or iluvbeachesandpez04191977@hotmail.com to new, Outlook-friendly accounts.

Today, I’m sad.

Sad for my 18-year old claraponi1@hotmail.com self. (And, additionally, for my claraponi2@hotmail.com self, an account created out of necessity when I lost the password for the original account and proved mentally unable to figure out how to go about resetting it.)

For the self that didn’t have an email address until her first day of college right near the turn of the millenium. And then promptly signed up for a dozen.

For that same self that, within three months of never having had an email addressed, managed to “spam”  (their words, not mine) her 80-person freshman dorm mailing list so thoroughly that she was blocked from said dorm list. (Who didn’t want to hear what I was thinking, doing, feeling at all moments of my wildly transformative first year of college, I wondered.)

For the self that, with tears, was told by the upperclass Resident Computer Counselor in the freshman dorm that there was no way, at the turn of the millenium, to check a school email account while at home on Christmas break (read: from a non-school computer) and accepted this email-less 2 week holiday as a first, grim experience with what would one day be referred wistfully to as “unplugging”.

For that self, I reach back through the ages and shout: FAREWELL, or, more appropriately, CUL8R.

If I could only remember my passwords, I would log into you fine accounts now and stare at the thousands upon thousands of surely relevant emails that have piled up in the years of my absence.

Goodbye, dear friend.

#hotmail4eva

Have a great hotmail email memory? Leave it below. We’ll all weep with you.