Maybe in part because I'm a pretty hardcore introvert by nature, I wrestle with a chronic character flaw which some of you may be able to relate to, one that most of my loved ones have already taken me to task for, repeatedly—namely, my tendency to lapse in communications. See, it isn't just my blog that sports big gaps—you should take a look at my Gmail inbox, the stack of unanswered letters on my desk (thank heaven for auto-pay, because I have had this same dumb trouble with bills for years), and probably most regrettable of all, the old messages on my answering machine. I'm better than I used to be—now and then I catch up and stay that way for a minute—but I am always struggling to discipline this part of myself. Why? Is it ADD? Adult-onset autism? Narcolepsy?
One thing's sure—it's not because I don't have excellent friends. Since I was just a tiny almost anybody's who's been willing to take me on has proven to be remarkable, the best of the best. Funny, intelligent, kind people are almost without exception the sort I've been lucky enough to connect with. Even my pets. I mean, really, I have one of the dearest, truest, hairiest little comedians on the planet eating from a dog bowl and sleeping on a ratty pillow on my back porch. I am also related to great people by blood and marriage. My neighbors are even decent folks.
So, when Lisa Jones left a plaintive comment on my last blog post because I've been off exploring another black hole of non-communication, I thought I'd better review the situation. Again.
Frankly, I've grown bored with beating myself up and since it's never done much to advance my evolution anyway, I'm going to simply say, YES, Lisa, I do remember you . . . with love. I appreciated being your friend back in the days we were neighbors. You're still on my list, and always will be. I hope you'll try me again, if you dare, for I'd like to be in touch.
Same goes for you, Amy O. Same goes for you too, Melissa O. and Liz C. and Miki S. The list seems crazy endless, and chances are, your name is already on my Great List of the Madly Neglected.
I love you, friends. Honest, I do. This won't probably won't do much to change my socially wayward nature, but here's something I thunk up that sounds fun. If you know me, and I don't care how well—that means if you just know me from reading this blog—and you want to play along, here's how. I recently inherited about a brazillion blank postcards and notecards from a friend (the irony is killing me), and also, while cleaning my basement I found more than one set (won't confess how many) of Christmas stamps from previous years (you guessed it—my great intentions never materialized into holiday mailings). This means I'm all set up to correspond. I actually really love old-fashioned handwritten mail, the kind that travels from my front stoop to your mailbox (and vice versa), via friendly blue-clad postal workers (just count all the human hands involved!). Here's the game: If you will email me your snail mail address I will happily sit down and send you that very day a love note. I might even refill my fountain pen for the occasion, if it still works. Who knows, maybe this will be the beginning of reform for me. (Let's not hold our breath though.) Anyway, it sounds like fun and something I can handle. I'll even send a note to somebody else you care about if you'll tell me who needs a postcard and share the addy. By the way, my email address can be found in the top right corner of this page. My Nativity stamps and I will be ready and waiting for you.
This will hopefully help me get warmed up for celebrating my special holiday in a few weeks—March Forth. I thought this year I would celebrate by . . . are you sitting down? . . . catching up on some phone calls. The purely recreational kind, not business. I know, unheard of, huh?
I'm off now to do some Bollywood with Hemalayaa, but first here's a song I want to dedicate to you, my friends, who mean much more to me and have more of my gratitude and love trailing after you than you're likely to ever know. xo
12 comments:
Oh, this is like Christmas all over again! Do you know one of my most treasured pieces of mail is from you and your lovely? Do you remember the Rossetti poem you sent years ago? Still have it. And every year I pull it out and run my hands on the paper and marvel at its beauty. My address is on its way.
Lovely lovely. I love that video. I love the idea of March 4th. I think I get the introverted thing. I will be sending my address soon, too.
Shall we put off the horchata until you are in a more extroverted state?
I will confess something--I am actually comforted by the fact that you are so bad (pardon my bluntness!) at "keeping in touch" because I am equally bad, if not worse. It's nice to know that someone else out there gets that it has nothing to do with quality or quantity of love, memories, etc. And I know that if I showed up on your doorstep (maybe this summer?) (don't worry, I'd call first) that it wouldn't make a bit of difference if we hadn't exchanged a word in eons.
Back before Christmas I selected and trimmed down some lovely sheets from Tim's paper collection to write a letter to you and well...I guess it's obvious how that turned out. But you have inspired me to have another crack at it, although it won't be on those creamy and supple sheets because all of the paper is still packed away. You'll have to settle for the lined notebook variety.
I'll email you my address first, though.
This admission makes me very happy. Now I can think to myself "well, if the lovely Geo is like this too, how bad can I be?".
I am emailing you for a letter. Yay!
Georgia, you are the sweetest! I feel terrible for even entertaining the thought that you might not want to be friends anymore. Especially given the fact that we are one in the same when it comes to keeping in touch. I have felt bad all these years for not staying close to good friends, mostly for all I was missing. You don't know how relieved I was to hear that you have those nativity stamps, I was using the holiday 2007 stamps most of 2008 because those cards I bought in 2006 never got sent. One year I even had all my cards addressed and they never got sent. So one of my goals for 2009 was to reconnect with all those long lost friends I still think about so often, and you my friend are on that list! Can't wait to receive a love letter!
Beautiful! It's easy to fall into the habit of keeping quiet. I'm linking to this post because my readers will love it!
Catherine
DEBRA—I do remember that card. I'm glad you (still) love it! You'd think that people who do letterpress professionally would manage to send out cards every year, wouldn't you? My current stash of hand-me-down notecards isn't of the run-your-hand-over-it variety, but maybe it will be welcome anyhow.
WENDY—If we wait for that to happen, we'll be beyond this veil of tears and horchata. No, I think we should have it soon. I might even try to MAKE some. Are you willing? It might not taste exactly like the restaurant stuff.
AMY—I can only love your bluntness. If you find yourself close enough to show up on my doorstep(!) this summer, I will be thrilled to throw the door and my arms wide open, call or no call. You mean you really might? That would be FABULOUS.
I'm sure whatever you write and rip from your spiral notebook will be creamy and supple enough to make up for any loss of wow factor in the paper. Bring on the words!
SUE—You are never bad. You are redicalous! (Sorry, I can't stop referencing that. It's perfect.)
LISA—No guilt allowed here, darlin'. Kick it to the curb. We is friends, and that's all.
You just reminded me that I should have mentioned that I also have other stamps available for those who may not celebrate Christmas. It's true; 'tis not the only season to be in folly. I have some interesting Native American jewelry stamps, some outdated things with wings, and probably others if I keep digging in my old secretary. Just give me a heads-up, anyone who'd like to opt out of the Nativity.
CATHERINE—Thank you! How nice! I don't think we've met before. I appreciate your visit, as well as your comment and link.
EVERYONE—I was gone all afternoon and evening, and it's now nearly midnight. I'm going to count "that very day" as being the 24-hour period following your emails. Fair enough? xo
Okay, can you count me in for a postcard? I'll take any form of communication with you that I can get. If you're lucky, I might even sit down and write you back the old-fashioned way (and I think you're lucky).
I think you have my address already but let me know if you need a refresher or will this only count if I put this note directly to pogofig?
I am pretty lucky; you're right. I have you to love, Becca.
(Call me sappy. I don't care.)
Geo - My card came on Saturday. Best piece of mail I've gotten in a LOOOONG time. And I appreciate the love note. You say things so beautifully and make your friends feel very special. I will treasure this letter. Thank you so much for lifting my day. For lifting my year! I feel kind of sheepish posting this here instead of sitting down and pulling out my own neglected stationary. You have set the bar high.
The way I see it is you might have more time to correspond with friends but it would take too long because you fill your life full with devotion to helping and serving others (along with those things everyone needs to do to live and survive). If you changed your schedule to have improved correspondence you would have to lose some of the wonderful things that everyone falls in love with about you. I would rather have my goddess as she is without a letter. I'm a better person just because I know you and I know you are being you wherever you are.
DEBRA. But you have no idea how much I love sheep! Your love comes through just as clearly whether there's a(n old) stamp affixed or not. xoxo
ALLISON. I don't know that I've ever received a sweeter comment on my blog. Leave it to you. Seems like you were born an expert at love and friendship, and you've only grown in your abilities since you've been married. You stun me, Venus. Thanks! I love you.
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