I love getting mail. Letters, postcards, magazines, even catalogues from stores I probably won't shop at. The only think I hate getting is other people's mail, because honestly, who wants to get mail that was meant for someone else? You can't open it, you feel kinda guilty about throwing it away...I usually end up just leaving it out for the mailman. I've stopped writing "not at this address" on the envelope. It happens so often that the mailman has started to get it without my little notes. But does this mean he'll stop bringing me mail that goes to people that used to live at my apartment? NO. He'll take away Justin's mail when I leave it sticking out of the mailbox, but for some reason, he still thinks that I want to receive it. Note to USPS: Justin no longer lives here. Neither do Estelle, Nundubu, or the variety of other people whose mail you put in my box every day.
But I digress. I do love getting mail. Especially packages. I love getting packages so much that I send things to myself at work. I recently had about $50 in Amazon.com gift certificates, and I spent almost all of it on the following: Harry Potter, book 1 (the only one I didn't have), Rodgers & Hammerstein's Cinderella (starring the lovely Lesley Ann Warren*), the entire series of planet earth (for under $20!!!), and Babes in Toyland (which has yet to arrive). Hells yes. I had almost forgotten about them (ha. yeah right.), but all three of the aforementioned packages arrived today (in separate packages, which means opening more "presents" - so fun!). Perfect for a day when I think I might be coming down with the cold/flu/thing that has been going around. It totally lifted my spirits. Does that make me shallow/superficial/a capitalist? I don't know. I don't really care. I am feeling happier.
Mom, I know you read this blog. Please send Bubbies. I have not found them at my local grocery stores, and I crave them. Ladies and Gentlemen who read this blog, if you enjoy pickles, and have never had one, click that link and find yourself some Bubbies. They are amazing.
*note: I just realized that maybe Ann Warren, an actress I knew in college, was named after Lesley Ann Warren. One can hope, right? Cause that would be cool.
that is all.
Julie, that is so funny you should mention that website. I've just recently started reading (and subscribing to) it. The Boy and I both were told about it on different occasions by different people in the last week or so -- it seems to be making its internet rounds!ReplyDelete
indeed! too funny... GMTA.ReplyDelete
i too love getting snail mail and am plagued (read: saddened) by mail addressed to Mr. Sharar Hillel (not mine) and Mr. Mike Bendavid (my current landlord, former tenant of my actual apt, #2). highly irritating when you see all those pretty white enevelopes that don't look like a bill or junk, only to find they are addressed to (GASP) someone else. also! perhaps Receiving Packages in the Mail is "stuff white people like." uh-oh... i imagine it to read something like this:ReplyDelete
White people like getting things mailed to them. They like the very idea of receiving a package the "old-fashioned way." This item doesn't even have to be an item they expressly desired or requested. No, it has more to do with the act of receiving said boxed item(s)and not necessarily what is contained therein. So, if you want to make a white person feel "loved" just wrap up any old household item and haul your ass down to the post office. Chances are they won't even remember what the box (or preferably, boxes) contained, but just that you took the time out of your busy, technology-laden schedule to slow down and do it the "right" way. Even if you live a mile away from the recipient, they will appreciate this gesture. Trust me.
Julie, you crack me up. PLEASE send that to the people at Stuff White People Like and see if they'll print it!ReplyDelete
haha! glad you like. honestly though, this phenomenon might be a young FEMALE of most any ethnicity thing. not entirely sure, but i have a hunch... ;)ReplyDelete
I'll try to see what I can do about the pickles. If not when you are here you can stock up!ReplyDelete