Wherever I go, there's Google Maps

I was looking something up on Gmail maps, when I came across the "satellite" images option. I was intrigued. REAL photos of places I see every day! Wow! Amazing, this Internet. Tell me more!

I started looking up our house. Then work. Then my apartment in Toledo. Then my mom's (not a lot of help; apparently only one photo was ever taken of that town, because you can't zoom in any to make it helpful). Then every address I've ever lived, from kindergarten on. 15 Bluffside, 739 Vincent Drive, Road 14, West Street, Road 13, etc., etc. How addicting, to see on screen something I already have dedicated to memory.

I was so caught up in this self-stalking game that I couldn't stop. "This is the way the school bus would go," "Let's see, if I go down here ... yes! Latonia! I totally remember!" "Hands Pike was riiiight ... YES. There. GENIUS."

If I had to estimate the percentage of wasted brain matter I have dedicated to remembering where the ice cream shop was compared to the dance studio I went to for a hot minute back in '89, I would say it's a strong 60 percent.

Just in case it ever comes up, I will be able to point out where the private swimming pool was to which I was never a member in Kentucky. Full of useless information.

The creepiest thought, though, was that someone who lived there now would have no idea some random house in the greater Cincinnati area had so much meaning for some random person in Wisconsin. Makes me wonder who's Googling the address of my house now. ... (Insert favorite stalker song here.) Yikes.