It’s my friend Angelina’s birthday! We’re high school buds and have exchanged many letters, including postcards, over the years. I could pick out an Angelina letter if it had no name on it and was typewritten, because when she sits down to pen a correspondence, she channels Holly Golightly. I also love how her hand can’t keep up with her head. That’s why I left the spelling as it was, so don’t let it fool you–she’s quite the literati.
Angelina says when she was picking out a postcard for me, the vendor said, “Here, you get one with ass.”
“The Greek wedding was CRAZY!! There were old women dressed entirely in black dancing on tables, large Greek men pretending to strip, (they were rather hairy,) gunshots being fired into midair and lots of ouzo.
I have swam (and peed) in the Aegean and Mediterranean sea. The water was simply wonderful and the half naked people bronze, toned, and beautiful, making me rather self-concious.”
“¡Hola mi amiga!
This card is from the Sound of Music Sing-a-Long if you haven’t guessed. We simply must go together next summer! You would love it. A bunch of freaks in too tight later hosen (?spelling.) There were lots of male nuns. Afterall [sic.], all the nuns [I] have met in real life have had beards. Angelina, your [sic.] horrible! You’re going to hell, Angelina! I dressed up in a Julie Andrews dress. Romy dressed as her fabulous self. I sang my lungs out. My prude neighbor kept hushing me. Whatever lady, don’t come to a sing-a-long, for Pete’s sake! Auf wiedersehen”
“Last weekend I ventured to The Echo with Katya and saw an AMAZING band. They are called The Growlers, great name right? You simply must look them up! I would burn you a CD but I am all out of blanks :( Their music transports the listener to the psychedelic 60s. The lead singer’s voice is rather Jim Morrison-esque. AMAZING!!! Speaking of which did you know Dan Auerbach from The Black Keys is releasing a solo album? It’s bound to be good! Let’s see, what else? I started D.H. Lawrence’s “Lady Chatterley’s Lover” which is juicy, as to be expected of D.H. Lawrence.
…I worked the “Disturbed” show at the Palladium a couple of nights ago. The experience was disturbing to say the least. Their sound was that mainstream heavy hardcore rock. Eick! As the night progressed men became more and more drunk and therefore more forward. What’s a girl to do? Geez!”
“How’s hippie camp? I wish I was there eating granola and climbing trees with you. Climb a tree for me, ok? (I’m trying to write really neat. No scribble monsters in this letter.) I am on the front porch and it’s 9:15. (Can you believe it? I woke up before 11?) It’s the perfect beginning to a perfect summer day. Aaaah. I simply LOVE summer. Hopefully when you return from the war we can frolick [sic.] on the beach and eat mangos (how you spell it??!) Whenever I sit down to write a letter I feel like I’m writing to Johnny the GI. Why is this? Its a great mystery, right up with Stone Hedge [sic.] and why I can crack my toes. Have a Bitchin’ (Te-He) time at camp and remember to eat your vegetables, like a good little child!”
“Well, the new things in my life are Life Guard classes and reading this lamo book for school. To become a genuine lady in a red bathing suit sitting on a tall chair, I must take (sacrafice [sic.]) 5 of my Saturdays doing CPR on dummies. (Hopefully cute boys as well.) :) Class is from 12:30-6:30! Oh my God, I am going to die!! So if I suddenly stop writting [sic.] letters you will know the tragic truth. On my gravestone “Here lies a brave soul who passed on trying to save a plastic body from a 12 ft. pool.” Anyways, the book of dread that I have to read is a pain in the royal hinny. Even Mrs. McGrath would hate it (and that’s saying something.) It’s about globalization and blah, blah, blah. What I really want to do is throw it down the pooper.”
I just returned from a mini-trip to the desert. Palm Desert to be exact. I rode golf carts with the old folks, swam with leering old men in bannana [sic.] slingers, and bought a pair of dentures. (Not relly) This all happened at my grandma’s house in a retirement community. Big suprise [sic.] there!
Last night, Liza Minneli [sic.] played The Bowl. There were numerous fabulous gay men in attendence. I was called sweetheart at least a dozen times.”
“How’s camp life? Any supiscious [sic.] sightings of Big Foot, unicorns, mermaids, lumber jacks or UFOs learking [sic.] in the shadows under a large oak tree? Well, I hope so, it certainly would spicen [sic.] things up. I am certain you have been doing all sorts of fun things my little wilderness Goddess–Climbing, jumping, swimming, laughing, eating granola. I can picture it now…Someone playing an acoustic guitar while everyone sings “Hey Jude” and “Come Together.” And then you look and something catches your eye. What is it? Two gleaming brown eyes peering at you across the campfire and then you realize…You are staring at the late and great ghost of George Harrison. You gasp. And then the image slowly disappears. You have witnessed a vision defying all means of time travel and life and death. Sssshhh. We’ll keep it between us. Our little secret.”
I’m glad the James Dean liscense is being put to good use. Included is a little nick-nak from Chinatown. I thought you could hang it on your dorm wall.
…Tommorrow [sic.] is The Grand Avenue Festival. I am going to be the smiling mannequin behind the MOCA booth.
…There are only a couple of concerts left at the Bowl. Tonight is Yo Yo-Ma, and the first couple of days in October is Neil Diamond, it should be an easy show. The audience is not going to storm the stage in their walkers. I think my grandparents are going to that concert. :) Makes sense. After the bowl I have to find another job. I hear The Wiltern is hearing [sic.], which would be a pretty cool gig.”
“I am currently in a rather reflective mood. I’m listening to “The Velvet Underground.” I’m sure you have heard their song entitled “Jesus.” Anyways, I kinda have the mean reds, and the depressing music is not helping. You know that guy I told you about, Sam? Anywho, he is leaving on Sunday for the green state of Washington. Oh well.
I had Ethopian [sic.] food yesterday at this little hole-in-the-wall restaurant on Fairfax, right down the street from LACMA. The food was layered with herbal flavors. Hmmm…At LACMA there was one piece that was extremely amusing, it was a huge table which made the onlooker feel like an ant. Now I know how Jack felt.
…Today we watched a Charlie Chaplin movie in Film class. Good old Charlie plays his “little tramp” character perfectly; the oversized pants, fitted vest, clown-like shoes, and graceful yet clumsy movements caused giggles from the roughest looking guys…
Now + Always
Here’s to snail mail between friends!
By the way, I’ve got to take the opportunity to say DO NOT THROW OUT YOUR FRIENDS’ LETTERS! I’m not saying be a packrat and keep every basic greeting card. But when it comes to full-fledged thoughts a friend or relative put to paper, if you don’t want to keep it yourself, then keep it to give back to that person someday. Mama Snail and her best friend corresponded in college. She was rereading her friend’s letters shortly after she graduated, and wanted to revisit her own. But her friend had thrown them all out! Her friend regrets it and their friendship continues, but that will always be a sore spot for Mama Snail. If you have a pen-pal, you can even agree to return each other’s letters as a holiday gift or at the start of the new year!