Friday, December 26, 2003
I received cookies from overseas. Which reminds me, I need a cookie. Un moment, S'il vous plait. Ahh, that's better. Peanut butter cookies with chocolate. yum. yum. yum. There was debate as to whether I eat the popcorn that came with it. Apparently, you put popcorn in the tin to prevent cookie breakage. I didn't believe this but S____ is far wiser when it comes to these things. Popcorn or no, the parcel came at a perfect moment. I needed a bit of cheering up. Read the last two entries if you need reminding why. Getting mail is one of those perfect pleasures of life. How awful would it be to exist without the post. I don't mind if it is a bill printed and sealed by a computer without the tiniest amount of illusion that a human is in correspondence with myself. It's just the process of getting these little paper gifts slid into your house for you to enjoy with your breakfast. Parcels. Wow! They can't slip those through the letter box. They have to ring your door. This is too important to leave at the door step. You must receive it personally. Sure I will sign for it. Thank you very much sir. Oh look this came all the way from overseas. Woohoo. At this point, the box could contain dog dirt and fish. I am just pleased that I have personally accepted a gift from another human being. The postman being the proxy for the originator of the package. Open it up. Home made goodness. I will eat the first layer of cookies immediately as a beneficence to the cookie gods. While munching, I read the hand written letter that rode shotgun with the cookies. My first instinct is to give an immediate reply by email, but this would miss the point of the intention of this correspondence. So, Instead I wrote my own letter. Mistakes were no longer vaporised by the pressing of the backspace key. They are left behind horizontal bars of the cross-out. They are still visible peering from behind their cell. The reader can now not only read what I meant to say but also the variations of it. A more fuller picture of what I intended to express could be ascertained by not only what I articulated but also by what I censored. Although, to be honest, Most of my mistakes were me starting a word I knew the meaning but not the spelling. I suppose spell check is definitely in the pro column of electronic mail.
Posted by Jarred McGinnis at 26.12.03