I’m Waiting By My Mailbox

4e969ecd-ea15-4deb-8a40-8ff09a297bafI’m currently planning on joining a book exchange system where I trade my favorite reads with others who may or may not know me. My younger sister recently started this said book exchange by liking and reposting information from her friend via Facebook. Today she received an Amazon package in the mail with a brand new book to read. I was jealous. All I get in the mail is bank account statements and items from Ohio University reminding me of my transfer checklist (insert snooze button here).

I want in on this book exchange action. Not only will I have a solution to my summer reading list being AWOL, but I also end up fulfilling an underlying need; a need for snail mail. (Wait what?)

Snail mail, specifically handwritten letters, seems to be extinct. I actually miss the handwritten letters, even though they have a tendency to be a pain in the a** sometimes. The stamps, envelopes, decent stationary, and legible handwriting. Not to mention the fact that you should make sure that your card matches the person…and the occasion.

I remember in grade school that my friends and I would send each other cards and little packages with Lisa Frank stickers and bedazzled rocks. We even had official looking ink stamps to seal the envelopes for “super spy secrecy.”

My grandma wrote to me too. She would ask how I was doing, give a weather report (even though we lived 15 minutes apart), and update me on what house projects her and my gramps were working on. The stray cat hierarchy at her house was usually mentioned too. (Very Meerkat Manor-esque.) The point of my rambling is that I once got handwritten letters in regular installments from those close to me.

Flash forward to two years ago when I entered the college scene. My friend and I promised to write each other, as we were attending vastly different institutions and jumped at the chance of receiving snail mail from one another. However, technology and semester/quarter course loads made us reconsider this idea quickly.

Where does that leave me now? Where does that leave everyone else in terms of snail mail? Heck, does anyone my age write letters?

With the presumed death of written letters, I now find that I want to send and receive them more than ever. I even want a pen-pal again. (A story for another time…) I suppose this proves the saying that you miss something once it disappears. However, with Facebook book exchanges and Pass-The-Notebook-On-To-A-Stranger, handwritten correspondences (once thought to be extinct), have the potential to stay alive for future generations.

P.S. I’m seriously joining this book exchange. Updates to come.


For Posterity

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