How To Disappear Completely

Every Snail Has an Address

My new goal in life is to write more letters. Back in high school, I used to keep up correspondences with a variety of friends. The longest running commitment entailed a serial story. I once typed up all the story bits into one document and the manuscript still floats about the shelves of my closet back home. But once I got to college, my letter loyalty sputtered and then died out all together. Now I am faithful but to those who are faithful to me: namely, my middlest sister Anna and Jennifer Wharton, both of whom are extremely loyal folks and abhorant of the Technological Age.

On a higher level, Hackenfriend and I have a good thing going where we consistantly write half-letters to each other and then hand-deliver them when we see each other once a year...

But writing letters is a necessary art. For one, it forces me to improve my sadly degenerated hand-writing. And another bonus: stamps. You can't get colorful stamps or stickers on an email. And emoticons just don't cut it.

So I resolve to employ more snails this semester.

PS This new roommate of mine is divine. She knocked on my door around 11:45 and said: "I just made too much lunch. Would you like to join me?" And so we had chicken with a fabulous tomato and green bean sauce and mashed pototoes with the skins still mixed in. She really had to twist my arm on that one. And then I washed up and noticed she had bought new soap. Palmolive, my favorite. Perhaps I am displaying signs of triviality but it's the small things, man. It certainly is the small things in life that make this heart rejoice.