I have been on a mini letter-writing kick lately. I know right?! Letters? If I'm gonna go old school, why don't I just chisel out some tablets and leave them on a mountain for my friends, or grab a pigeon from Fairmount Park and have it deliver rolled up parchment?
But, that's exactly the problem! I love paper, so I have a lot of stationary, but no one writes anymore. Also, my over-exposure to movies like The First Wives Club has made me fearful that I will die shortly after writing a letter. That way, when they're delivered, but friends will gasp, cover their mouths with one hand, take a step back, and be really touched by my insightful words about pretending to be Lizzie Bennet. Morbid, I know, but I can't help it. I'm like Billy Crystal in When Harry Met Sally, reading the last page of the book in case something kills me before I finish.
Perhaps my fears will decrease if I write more. So, give me your address. If you want me to write you a letter, I will sit right down and write you a letter.
But, that's exactly the problem! I love paper, so I have a lot of stationary, but no one writes anymore. Also, my over-exposure to movies like The First Wives Club has made me fearful that I will die shortly after writing a letter. That way, when they're delivered, but friends will gasp, cover their mouths with one hand, take a step back, and be really touched by my insightful words about pretending to be Lizzie Bennet. Morbid, I know, but I can't help it. I'm like Billy Crystal in When Harry Met Sally, reading the last page of the book in case something kills me before I finish.
Perhaps my fears will decrease if I write more. So, give me your address. If you want me to write you a letter, I will sit right down and write you a letter.
1137 Jefferson St.
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