The family is going through the last of my grandmother's things, and we discovered that she'd saved every single letter her grandchildren ever wrote her from college. Mom bundled mine up and gave them to me, and I've spent the last hour reading through them and then throwing them out. I'd forgotten all the tedious minutiae of my undergraduate life at Berea College, back when stamps were a quarter.
A few slightly amusing excerpts:
"Well, I need to get back to my Romantic poets. How I am coming to loathe them!"
"Tell Little Mike [a cousin] he's a whiz! I know I couldn't have won a geography bowl. I couldn't have even gotten one question, probably, unless they'd asked me where I was."
"My creative writing class is going too slowly for me: so far we've been in class about a month, and we've had exactly 3 assignments. One was to write 3 haiku, and the other 2 were other poems. Next we get to write a sonnet. Oh, joy. I think I'm going to ask my advisor if it's possible to take creative writing twice, under 2 different teachers."
"Last night I watched 'Vertigo' with a couple of friends--the Hitchcock film, you know. Have you seen it? It was pretty cool, but the plot was kind of loose, I thought. We had all kinds of potato chips and food [and booze], but naturally I can't taste anything [I had a cold; my friend Robin told me fuzzy navals were good for me because of the orange juice]."
Ah, youth. I'm feeling terribly depressed now. I spent the morning working on "Rumpelstiltskin" and it's coming along great, though. I'm very happy with it so far, but I wish it was done already. Oh, and I got my comp copies of Renard's Menagerie! It's a very nice magazine; I haven't read the other stories yet, but they look good, and I like the internal artwork. More about that tomorrow, though, or maybe later tonight. I know you can't wait.
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