Where there's a Quill there's a Way

I recently felt the urge to re-organise the dreaded hallway cupboard and this would involve me having to decide on the ultimate question: To keep or not to keep. And then the fun part of purchasing boxes. Yes I L.O.V.E boxes. I love a box, in a box, in a cupboard. I do like the boxes to be grouped together with a similar concept and at present they are not. So an overnight job has turned into a weeks job. I am at a point of struggle between purchasing new boxes and keeping the old. Want vs Necessity. Boxes vs Holiday savings, House savings, Event savings....do I really need more boxes to soothe a compulsive need of unity and quirk? Yes! But will I? Let me finish fishing through the keep and the not to keep and then we will see.

Last night I started to sift through a box compiled of birthday cards, Christmas cards and letters. Oh my! Since I was little my mother has insisted that I keep cards. Why? Perhaps for memories, keeps sakes, treasures, hoarding, ideas, emergency fireplace paper, who knows. But, as mother knows best, I have! But really what do I need these for? Without telling my mum *sorry mum if you are reading this I started to sift through the cards and the cards I decided to keep, the remainers (yes new word) were 16ths, 18ths, 21st cards, cards with sentimental words written by the card giver and cards from the parents, brother and husband. Surprisingly this resulted in half getting recycled (or kept for scrap booking needs).

As for the letters, I kept them all. I even organised them by sender, friends or family. Ahh the contented feeling when precious items become organised. And yes they all went into a box afterwards. 

Looking at these handwritten letters with their uniquely designed stationary paper, handmade borders and treasured words it a gotta me a thinkin'....

Gone are the days of pen to paper, a squirt of perfume, a flick and a lick.Why has the art of letter writing died?

Simple. It is to slow. Email has spell check, fancy fonts for those like me who write small and non-cursive and you can edit with a backspace without having to start again because seriously who wants scribled scribbled out words or liquid paper all over that pretty stationary. And that's my view. The truth is I enjoy receiving letters, I get excited over mail in my letterbox. I love any kind of mail, especially the kind I haven't opened yet that is just peeking ever so cheekily out of my letter box with my name on the front just waiting to be opened. The wonderment and anticipation of what may just be inside that window peeking letter? Will it be a letter from a friend, a long lost friend, a secret admirer or a cheque for lost super? But the best kind of letter is the one from a friend who has sat down and written a page of words just for me. That they have taken a moment in their life to think that I am special enough that they want to spend a minute with me. A minute of me reading and 30minutes of them writing.

I have letters dating back to high school years, uni years and even the marriage years. I have kept them all, that is the ones that got sent by snail mail not the super speedy cheetah style of email.

But I do love letters. Email or post. I don't mind. In fact the moment someone decides to send me a letter of any kind - the how are you kind, the thinking of you kind, the update kind, the venting kind, the sorry kind or the kind that you don't ever want to receive but after much self discovery you are glad you received kind - they all matter. Because someone somewhere out there needs to talk and that is an important need on so many levels.

Today, I still have friends who will spontaneously write to me. I receive the snail mail kind, friends who will write the cheetah kind and I have two amazingly beautiful friends who I am fortunate to have write to me on a daily or at least weekly kind. A shout out to two girls who make opening my inbox This Rocks my World kind of day. Kiera and Eva.

**I have never been the phone kind of friend. I try. And my mother can get a good 30mins out of me but the kind of talk I love is a good old fashion face to face or a pen to paper, fingers to keys kind. I like to read the emotion in words or see the expression on the face. My interpretation of tone over the phone has never been successful and the fear of a moments pause is too overwhelming (at least you can sip a cup of coffee when the moment gets a little quiet). 

- J 

Welcome to the big city, kid!

Summer and the City by Candace Bushnell -Review

*Warning* this review may turn more into a chin wag then a sophisticated, constructive review. If I absolutely loved it then I would have raved about it as soon as I put the book down. Instead this book took me longer to read then first anticipated and nearly just as long to write a response to it. Did I hate it? No. Did I love it? No. Did I find anything of interest? Yes. Perhaps it was because this book shared a few to many moments of truth for me. Mostly about the need to aspire to other peoples greatness or the less desirable question of what it is I should be doing with my life (not to mention the struggle to write).

You've seen the movie? Read the first book? Well here is the sequel to the Carrie Diaries. The names of characters are the same and the personalities are definitely evolving but if you're hoping for it to be exactly the way the movie depicts it, than no you have it wrong. If you loved the movie so much that your love has turned into obsessions and the need for complete continuation of movie to book or book to movie is a necessity and therefore a cardinal sin if doesn't, then don't read it. Although similarities are there and the feel and culture of the book radiates STC (sex and the city) it does leave you feeling a little deflated. For instance, in the book (and this is *spoiler alert*), Carrie meets Samantha first, then Miranda and finally Charlotte in the last 2 pages of the book. In the movie and the series, it was written differently. Also the way in which Carrie meets everyone is not the same in the movie (and lets not talk about the loss of virginity). So for me with this book being the apparent beginning of the hit show STC, I was surely disappointed. AND... I really enjoyed The Carrie Diaries book.

So to cut a long story short. Read it if you like a girly read. Read it if you like anything to do with the STC. Read it if you need some reminder of what it is like to make it out in the big wide world at the age 17, American style. There are a few 'dark' topics explored such as the inequality between men and women and sexual harassment but for me this wasn't the highlight. This book was about getting to know Carrie, a possible reason behind why Samantha will never marry and the flaw finding Miranda. I, like so many others L.O.V.E a good chick flick or romance novel but was not overly amused with Summer and the City.

But! And there is a BUT....I didn't mind spending my time reading this book due to the funny conversations that any good bunch of girlfriends should have, the uh ah moments and the simple idea of tuning out and letting the responsibilities of my 26 and 3/4 life disappear. Perhaps the approach is to read it with your besties and have a good old chin wag about it or as Carrie says;

"I on the other hand, could easily spend the entire day engaged in gossip, which I prefer to call 'character analysis'." 

Character analysis. Perfect explanation of what it is a group of girls* will do when they have nothing better to talk about. When they are done talking of last nights antics, this weekends proposals, the latest flick, the best purchase of the week, the great escape (the holiday not the novel), the ultra-cool outfit, what the man said, what you said to the man - we then finally get down to the character analysis. Hey! I know I know, not all girls are like that. But come on we have all done it, today, yesterday or even 10 years ago. It happened. We did it and we still do it - maybe now we do it as woman with a few polished words, constructive criticism, looking out for their best interest or simply 'character analysing'. And we may even talk about the actual book, The Great Escape.*of course this a stereotype, which is highly depicted in a lot of teen movies and therefore my take is a very broad take.

So the funniest moment in the book for me was the fact that this author decided to place me or the stereotype of me in this book. If you have read previous posts of mine you will find that I'm on a journey of self discovery, I'm trying to escape never never land and I'm basically deciding what it is I want to be when I grow up. With no such luck of discovering that sweet spot - just yet - I have decided to possibly go back to studying. And I just may decide to do my Vet Nursing certificate. You would think after 4 years of studying at University that I wouldn't want to go back to studying but I secretly love to study shh. And considering I originally thought that right up until the end of high school I was going to be a famous actress on stage simply living the dream - I am now resorting to what is called the 'default' occupation.

"She wasn't a model when we met, though. She was studying to be a veterinary assistant. I take a sip of my coffee. That's like the default profession for girls who don't know what they want to do. But they do love animals." 

But hey if I can't have the spotlight I will stand firm on believing that being a left-hander makes me unique! And I have to take this uniqueness with me everywhere I go because when I first started auditioning I was continually labelled as the beach blonde girl perfect for such starring roles in home and away. HA HA to them, for they didn't know I dislike the beach and prefer a grassy hill, am part of the honour society at my university and I am left-handed.

"She must be left-handed, because left-handed people always wear their watch on their right wrist so everyone will know they're left-handed and, therefore, possibly more interesting and special." 

So what did this book teach me. It taught me that;

"Just because something doesn't last forever, it doesn't mean it wasn't meaningful while it did last. It doesn't mean it wasn't important."

It taught me that I just want to be able to say I am who I am because I know I have got there on my own terms.

x