As part of my one man snail mail revival, I wrote a letter to my grandparents a few weeks ago. Honestly, with school deadlines and FutureStress/SadSounds all around me, I forgot that I even did it until I received a letter back from my grandma in today's mail. What a lovely thing getting a letter is; someone thinks of you in the past and their love is trapped in a sort of purgatory, passed between hands and sorted with machines, until it clunks in your mail slot in the present, often when you don't expect it (and really need it).
I thought it was funny that I, Bloggy McBlogerson 22-year-old who writes research reports on New Media, wrote my grandparents a letter on cute stationery in my intense chickenscratch (described by amateur graphologist friends as indicative of mental instability) and my tech-savvy 80-year-old grandma makes her own stationery by printing a cool nature image onto cardstock and types the whole thing, including the addressed envelope. How hip is she? The hippest.
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