wait a minute, mr. postman

when i was younger, i absolutely loved getting mail. and why wouldn't i? highlights and american girl magazine, party invitations and birthday cards - what's not to love. my mother warned me that one day, the experience might turn sour for me. eighth grade brought a subscription to seventeen and then beginning in freshman year of high school, a tidal wave of college letters came down on my house, and i never wanted to resurface. my high school years with the pinnacle of my love affair with mail. i always had at least five or six letters to come home to, filled with kind words and new possibilities. i decided my mother must have been mistaken.

i would say it was around the time that i got accepted into my colleges that things started to take a turn. now there were deadlines and responsibilities and i wanted nothing to do with it. now in my second year of college, i dread going to my mailbox, because aside from that fine day once a month when my nylon or vogue shows up, it's nothing but bank statements, bills, and other collegiate nonsense that i could care less about. the disease has spread, too. my e-mail is just as bad, and i dread checking it each day.

i'm turning it around, though.

contactPandorasCloset@gmail.com

use it. contact me. help me recapture my love for correspondence. say anything, say everything. i'll write back. promise.

sincerely,