A dear friend of mine is in Ithaca, New York for a summer program at Cornell. She’s having lots of fun, but she’s also horribly homesick. I’ve sent her a few pieces while I was at Smith and in Boston, but I wondered: what if I mailed her something every day?
The logistics of it are pretty shaky since mail seems a tad delayed (I assume it’s because she’s hosted on campus–I know a letter a friend sent to me at Smith took an extra few days to come through), but why not? If something does manage to slip through the cracks and end up there a few days after she leaves, no problem–with any luck it’ll get sent back to me for safe delivery. So a letter (or a postcard, or maybe a care package) a day until she comes home. It’s giving me a fine opportunity to bust out some stationery I haven’t seen in a while, not to mention my lovely typewriter, which has been languishing in my bedroom in the wake of my three week vacation and writer’s block.
So far, my outgoing notepad reads as:
- Drop ‘Em postcard
- Girl Scout Cookie print letter
- a mini care package of two Hershey’s chocolate bars and two packs of shark-shaped gummies wrapped in black and gold marbled paper from Dick Blick
- SFMOMA postcard
- typewritten letter (I’ve already forgotten what this one looked like even though I mailed it two days ago…)
- typewritten letter on blue airmail paper with a handmade wax paper envelope
- Maverick postcard (pictured above)
I’ve been walking out to the mailbox shortly after waking up, still in my pajamas and yawning and somewhat disheveled, before grabbing the day’s mail and dropping in my outgoing for the next day. Sometimes I’ve had to sit around for a little while because the moment I open the front door, I hear the postman’s van drive in. Tomorrow’s will be the Maverick postcard, while the day after’s will be another care package of Milano Minis (mint, yum).
Of course this isn’t all the mail for today–I’m a bit of a serial mailer. I write one postcard and I think, “Man, someone would totally want a postcard, too” and before you know it I’m desperately scrawling sixteen postcards before the clock strikes 2 AM and failing miserably. I figured I might as well keep my focus here. It seemed like it deserved its own moment.