Hear that, that was my cherry

Well, 2 weeks into the New Year and a week sober and I still have no desire to do shit. Oh well, one more week on the Wagon.

In the meantime, this will be a start. Seems since I left good ole' G-ville I haven't been very good with keeping in touch with those I called friends. This hit me when I looked at my X-mas card list: Dad, Uncle and cousins, and Great Aunt. Oh yeah, and S&S out in Cali (sorry). Pretty fuckin sad.

Email is easy (so what's my excuse) but there is just something about good old mail. Like the packages that I would send to friends in college and other parts as well as receive. Typed or handwritten letters, clippings from the local paper (or porn mag), flyers from shows that I missed and would curse those who went as well as those I would look forward to. Etcetera etcetera.

Maybe I'm just old school (or just old). But I miss the tactile feel and smell of a package from someone, it lessens the distance and makes it personal. Maybe this will help.