I have a mail thing. I have all this romanticism and nostalgia associated with mail; maybe because I moved so much when I was little. When my parents got divorced I was in junior high. I had this best friend named Jennifer who was this beautiful petite redhead. Anyway, Jen and I had zero friends because we went to an inner city school and we liked Green Day and the Smashing Pumpkins and wore all this flannel. When I moved away, for over a year, she and I wrote these epic letters to each other- ten, twenty pages. I made a box special for them and saved them all in a green ribbon.
When email came around, I thought I would keep better contact with friends left behind when I moved since it was easier to keep in touch. Actually, I was even less likely to be remembered (or remember them) because as easy as it is to email someone, it's even easier to forget to email someone.
So I love mail. I love sending mail. I only send beautiful mail. I send beautiful postcards or pretty stationary in hand-crafted envelopes with all kinds of artifacts and ephemera enclosed. I love getting mail. Any mail. And the only thing better than mail from friends is unexpected mail from friends. And the only thing better than that is unexpected mail from friends in other countries, and the only thing better than that is a lovingly compiled care-package from a friend abroad.
Thanks friend. You nailed it.