letter to the people keeping my trashcan basketball skills in tact.

Dear Magazine Renewal Workers,

I know times might be tough for the print industry, I can read everything you're telling me on the internet. Here's my issue (I GET IT!), why do I need to get an renewal form every month? It claims I'm getting a deal, but it's the same deal I will get in July when it is actually time for me renew. If you must remind me to renew, try in June, or maybe even May. I would also rather receive these reminders as email, I hate getting this kind of mail, my bank and cell phone carrier have stopped paper bombing me. (Maybe you have a deal with the post office, but it's okay I'm not asking for real mail to stop.) I am not your concern for losing money (try ads with people you don't have!), if you look at your records I renew on time every year. Yes, I have given up other magazines, but the only thing making me want to leave you is this giant extra waste of paper every month.

Thank you for your time,

The girl throwing the envelope across the room in frustration every month, until it finally ends up in the trashcan.

the barbies are ready: the super bowl party is here!

I could get used to the attitude in the city since Sunday night, it was nice going to work and having everyone be nice and happy. The entire city was exhausted Monday, but no one seemed to mind, because the New Orleans Saints are going to the Super Bowl. A fact that most of us are still having trouble feeling like it’s real. Well guess what? It is real, it is very real. I wouldn’t consider myself a “sports nerd”, but I always care about my local teams. I have more Saints memories from when I was little than any other time. My grandpa used to get tickets through work, so every once in awhile I got to go to a game. Recently, I was talking about the game I started running fever and had to sleep through most of it. I don’t remember leaving though; I just remember switching seats to be closer to my mom. I remember some games we’d watch at my grandma’s house and before we walked in the front door I could hear her yelling at the television. I used to laugh at her, the grandkids always had more permission to laugh at the grandparents, I am smiling thinking about it now. If we didn’t watch it there and we watched it at home, my mom gets nervous and excited loudly as well. Back then, I would put on my Saints shirt from a first grade fair dance I did to “When the Saints Go Marching In” and lay out all my Barbie stuff and play with toys in front of the TV while “watching the game.” Sunday night I felt more like my mother’s daughter than ever, which is why it is maybe a good thing I didn’t watch the game at home with her. I hadn’t been that nervous in a long time, how I have any fingernails left is beyond me, but I need to let them grow before February 7th. Geoff and I watched the game with mostly people we had just met about an hour before the game started and it didn’t matter when we scored it was like we were all best friends. Heading home that night we got stuck on the interstate, people were honking and blaring music, it was what I keep calling, “An Interstate Dance Party.” My teacher canceled class the next day with an excuse I seriously doubt anyone believed. I don’t know what we’re going to do until the Superbowl gets here, because it’s all anyone is able to talk about. My friend’s birthday is Super Bowl Sunday, so I guess until it gets here I can decide what kind of Chocolate and Gold cake will be made. It is going to be a crazy month, exactly a week after the Super Bowl Drew Brees will be reigning as Bacchus. At this rate Mardi Gras will never end and if we’re lucky we will sleep again in March.

  9/16/90 - Barbies and all are ready for the game!