This week on the Remember the Time Blog Hop, we’re talking about mail.
I never really had pen pals. I never really read a specific magazine, so we never really subscribed to those. I never really sent card. When I “ordered” things, my parents ordered them and gave them to me. When I got mail, it was usually cards in the mail for my birthday or Christmas. But, in Junior High, I wrote my friends letters.
When I moved to Lockhart, I had a particular group of girls that I hung out with. There were 5 of us, including me. We were pretty close. Anyway, we always got pretty bored in class. We weren’t allowed to have our phones in class. We were supposed to pay attention and take notes.
At some point, someone came up with the idea of passing journals. They were like notes, except we kept them all in a spiral. It looked like we were taking notes, but we were writing each other letters instead. When class was over, we met up, switched our spirals and went on with our day.
I remember those notes were so similar every time:
Hey [whomever and potential other whomever]
What’s up? Not much with me. Just sitting here in class. Did you hear about [new gossipy thing I just heard, or maybe made up]?
[Obligatory comment about some thing the other person wrote in the previous letter, to show it actually got read].
So. Anyways. I’m just sitting here in [insert number] period, bored. [Insert joke about teacher still talking]. Well, I’ll see you later.
[Very large heart with ALWAYS written across it]
P.S. Sorry it’s so sloppy.
Sometimes, we’d have to do more than one of these journals in one class, because pretty much each pair of us had a separate journal.
After we wrote the letters, we’d doodle on our letters. Or sometimes the front cover of the spiral, because, we had to make it personal.
Eventually, the school banned our spirals because they either distracted us from class or they excluded people, I don’t really remember which. I do remember how exciting it was to get one. Reading what the other person had to say, how their day was going, all that was always so interesting to me. And I got to write them back and they had to read it. The idea that someone wanted to read what I had to say (as ridiculous as it was back then) was an interesting thought.