Tuesday, May 08, 2007

I Think I Love This Man

Remember back when getting mail was so much fun? Back when there was nothing more exciting than the garbage truck showing up and gobbling up all the trash, getting a letter was a sign that I was important, that I had gravitas1. I've lost a lot of faith not only in the post office (I do have to say that our postmistress impresses me, since she's constantly stoned but still reads my New Yorker) but also in the content of the post. Now I just get a wad of credit card applications, checks from the bank that I didn't ask for but are a huge liability and so sit around my house until I have there wherewithall to take them to work to put through the shredder, and about thirty envelopes trying to scare me into re-refinancing my student loans2 .

But before my cynicism can fully germinate, along comes the letter project.

And also, letters are a great way to break up.

1. True story, last night, the Object's dad was in town, which is always a good time. At one point, I mentioned that now that I'm 27, I have gravitas. He laughed out loud. This is consistent with every other person's reaction when I have said that.
2. By the way, let's just make the connection here: I don't think this story is purely incidental to predatory lending practices...


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