F.Y.E.O. (check yes or no)

I am in the process of hand writing letters to the 30 fans who were the first to  like us.  I had no idea the task would be so daunting.  I bought the markers and crayons, got the swag ready to put in the envelopes and yet I find myself having a note-writing block.  I did it every day, more than once a day for years of my life and now I can’t even remember how to do bubble letters.  Notes, how to fold them and how to give them without getting noticed was a BIG DEAL.  Receiving letters in the mailbox was what got me through collegiate New England Februaries and under-slept summers as a camp counselor.  I’m fearful.  Have email, status updates and texting really left me without the ability to write a damn letter?

The most productive output of my brainstorming session yesterday was learning how to draw freehand ghetto blasters.  It was an enjoyable experience, I put on “Big” as I doodled, remembering my blushing crush on the young Joshua Baskin.  But let’s get cereal, I have a responsibility to thank those lovely people.  Frankly, I’m kind of afraid that I’m stuck in the over-cybered groove and will not able to hand write personal notes anymore.

——-

Youth today text and don’t write notes any longer or so I’ve been told.  They can write and receive really life changing texts (4give me plz ppl) and erase them.  Maybe we don’t need to remember our past Sophomoric selves (who to go to the dance with/are you mad at me/i’m still grounded).  Maybe the younger generation has a more forward-thinking, live-in-the-moment perspective.  Deleting and moving on to the next Tweet, ten years down the road their lives will be just fine…even without catharsis-induced nostalgia bombs in between the lines of weathered blue and white.  They’ll bypass the rosy-cheeked reminders of how life played out at age 15.  Yet what will they do seventeen years later when they want to take a look at what their life was like during that pivotal time?  That’s right, they will check their old Facebook statuses.

****Side note:  There is one striking similarity between notes of yesteryear and texts of today:  really terrible acronyms.

(lol, lylas, omg, ttfn, fyeo)

I’ve been carting around a box from my parents’ garage for two weeks.  Most of its’ content is a mystery-I grabbed it because my pink Blankey (proper noun) was peeking out and I was in need of some nostalgic flare for my bed.  When picking up that box, a dust-covered label caught my eye:  MCHS Letters.  I was in a hurry but I ripped open the four corners with the vim and vigor of a Christmas morning child and took a handful of yellowing paper rectangles and shoved them in the Blankey box.  In my inherent eternal busyness, I’ve neglected that pre-Christmas treasure in the back of my seat since my return to Ice Paradise.  Still in no shape to actually unpack the box, I decided today to open it up before heading to work, in hopes to find a forgotten treasure to jog the memory and spice up my day.  Alas! I had forgotten about the notes!  They trumped even the a PACE flag from my Italian demonstration days in 2004.

(I should probably be on “Hoarders”).

The random letters I picked were a delicious selection spanning six months of my sophomore year, a perfect glimpse of what life was like in 1995.  I had recently moved and there were messages from old friends, my grandma and new classmates.  I also found notes I had never given (wise move:  that big-footed tennis player wasn’t worth my poetic brilliance anyway).  Although I’ve kept a journal since age seven, what these notes provided was the opportunity to not only see a piece of my life, but the lives of other “My So-Called Lifers” during that year of Clinton and WTO, OJ Simpson, and the introduction of the DVD.  Here are some of my favorite tidbits from the letters and notes from 10 or so people including myself:

“Do you have a CD player?”

“The reason I probably won’t be able to come is I have to play maid and cook for all the business men.”

“Are you still going with what’s-his-name?”

“I’m totally afraid that Mr. L will find me writing this and read it aloud.”

“What did you do this weekend?  I worked, shopped, and talked.”

“When I went to call you the other night I had to look in your past letters that you had written me to find the number, and I had to wear sunglasses because they were so brightly colored!”

“I want to go to UCLA part time and model the other part time.”

“I do hope and trust things are much better in your life now.  That your health is much improved and that your school situation is happy for you also!  Grandaddy and I are leaving in the morning to go down in Florida and camp a few days.”

“You are the most self conscious person I know!”

“It’s very importante! (Spanish)”

“Well, please talk to me!  I feel so stupid.”

“P.S.  Spelling is my worst subject”

“The only thing that might keep me away is the fact that B.  was invited (can she go?)  My mom hasn’t liked her since the B.C.P. incident.”

“My parents said they would be more than glad to ship me to France.  Miles and miles away from my mom, it will be heaven.”

“Right now, my life pretty much sucks (so what else is new?).  It just seems like nobody understands me anymore and I’m all alone.”

“I love Eric so much.  He is so fine.

“I have something else to tell you that you can never tell anyone-ever.”

Does anyone still have letters they’d like put into the script?

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Comments
3 Responses to “F.Y.E.O. (check yes or no)”
  1. k.c. says:

    “I’d like to go to UCLA part time and model part time”…. LOLOLOL who doesn’t chica?? Hahaha… That sounds like something I’d have dreamed up back in the day. I’m really interested in the BCP incident, do tell. Also, I totally recognize the writing in the note about getting ungrounded with the crazy doodle on it!

    I wish I’d saved old notes and things, but in a fit of embarrassment thinking what would someone think if I died and found all my crazy middle and high school souvenirs, I threw them out when I moved in w/my husband.

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