Letter

[raven]

So, I just stomped through the door in the bad mood to end all bad moods. Stomped into the kitchen, got coffee, then Pedar said, "There's a letter for you," and smiled. Perhaps he guessed as I did who it was from before I even opened it. But then, maybe not; Pedar, as I have said many times before, cannot remember my friends by their names, but only by some salient detail about them. Clare gets her name because of her decade-long presence in my life - among the others are "the die-hard socialist" and "the one in purple" and "the intellectual one."

So I grabbed my letter and went through a hundred-and-eighty-degree moodswing. Much of the delighted bouncing and yelling, "It's from Leigh!"

"Who's Leigh?"

"The one with the linguistic inevitability," I said, and retired to the stone table to read my letter. It was a bit of a weird experience "hearing" Leigh's voice, which I'm so used to and familiar with, in such a different context. And it made me giggle, and Leigh, my first reaction to the word "taper" was indeed "candle", so I turned the page and giggled and earned a few odd looks from everyone else.

But I don't care 'cause ohmygod I have a letter from Leigh, and I love letters. Clearly, not as good as actually meeting would have been, but unlike our many emails and LJ comments, a letter is something the other person wrote, worked on, actually touched. I may be mentally four years old but I'm yet to get over the miracle of the postal service. The envelope has my name on it, plus four lines of text, and on the strength of these alone it has travelled four thousand miles over four days and reached the exact right place - this one white house, this one kitchen table of all the (stone) kitchen tables in the world.

And this letter had something else in it - certainly the most unusual and thoughtful gift I've ever received, and one I'm going to keep taking out and looking at at odd moments. I have a drawer crammed full of letters in my bedside table, none of which I would have without miracle of the internet.

And as this is getting maudlin and philosophical, I will stop here. It will be light for another four hours and I have to go down to the shore and shout at the Atlantic.

Comments

[julianelupin.livejournal.com]

I rediscovered letter-writing this year (specifically when theiving_gypsy was offline and I needed my B-fix) and I'm glad I'm not the only one impressed with the magic of it. What stands out more to me, though, is the old-fashioned, almost romantic notion of letter-writing - it's almost like sending a part of yourself to someone else.

< /babble>

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

Yes, that's exactly it! Sending a part of yourself; and by extension, receiving a part of someone else. Terribly magical and romantic, indeed.

[shipperkitten.livejournal.com]

Do I have a name? *curious*

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

If you can believe it, you're the clever one!

[shipperkitten.livejournal.com]

*Laughs*

Eek!

[gamesiplay.livejournal.com]

I love this entry. I am such an egoist, but really. *squees softly* I have been sitting here with a grin splitting my face for ten minutes.

I cannot believe I get to be "the one with the linguistic inevitability." That is thrilling. I only wish I really were the one with the linguistic inevitability. I also wish I could casually discuss Internet friends with my parents, but that's another matter entirely.

...I'm yet to get over the miracle of the postal service.

I was just thinking about this today at work, actually. I was hoping you would have gotten the letter, and it occurred to me that it's so entirely strange that I could theoretically just throw it out into oblivion, more or less, and have it drop into your mailbox three days later. (Wow, it really has only been three days since it was mailed. I put it in the mailbox on Sunday afternoon, but UPS didn't pick up till Tuesday. It felt like much longer.) What a world we live in. :)

So, so glad you liked my "present." And so, so glad it got through. I only had one copy, and while I don't mind sending it to you -- it's for a good cause! -- I would have hated for it to be lost in transit. I'm attached to strange things that way.

You are the best thing ever. I would promise to do my bit of shouting when I go to Australia, but that the wrong ocean. I mean, it's the right idea in that it's still between us, but the Pacific hasn't been the bane of my existence in the same way. So I shall wait until the end of the month, when I head down to the Atlantic.

[gamesiplay.livejournal.com]

...but that the wrong ocean

Clearly, I should stop attempting to use the English language now. That's. That's.

[dougs.livejournal.com]

I've done my share of shouting at the Atlantic.

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

It's becoming something of a team sport.

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

Oh, you are the one with the linguistic inevitability. I was having a discussion with him about how certain words and phrases are just right, and quoted you. The argument then segued into how anything can be linguistically inevitable. Net result - another one of my friends he can easily recall.

I'm glad I'm not the only one who finds the post amazing - the letter is postmarked July 5th, and it was here on the eighth, meaning it travelled over a thousand miles per day. Didn't land in my mailbox because, well, we don't have mailboxes, but I'm still childishly fascinated by it.

Have re-read your gift several times now; definitely the best gift ever.

And I'm all for shouting at the Atlantic, no matter how rarely the opportunity may present itself. One of those things you can do and be absolutely sure the rest of the world thinks you're insane.