Ever find yourself exhausted from googling your normal round up of ex-boyfriends and weird ex-roommates? And after doing so, you then you google yourself to see what they see when they google you? Well, once that gets old I have something else for you to do. I’ve just spent the last half hour looking at Ancestry.com. It’s a little weird—not that there’s documentation of my existence and where I come from—but that the internet knows. It’s like when you get those forwards that says, “a picture of your driver’s license is on this website”, (is it?) but ancestory also has the names of my pop-pops and their immigration documentations—the whole shebang. This would have helped a lot in third grade when I had to hand draw one of those genealogy trees. Now it just means we’re a step closer to the Matrix.