Among my vast collection of archived notes that have been written to me, there are ones that need to be shared. The one above is just such a note. I was in junior high when I received this note, and the writer, Steve, was a year ahead of me, in high school. Aside from the oh-my-god-a-high-school-guy credentials, I can’t really remember why else I had a crush on him. Perhaps the high school cred was enough, as that seemed pretty unattainable and I did have a problem staying away from seemingly unattainable boys back in the day. I know. I remember I liked Steve for a good month or two, and that he was the older brother of a friend of mine. I also remember that we called him the Anteater, for some reason, although I can’t tell you why. See how the page is sort of brown? That is not from wear-and-tear throughout the years. I distinctly remember the day that I was given this note (via his sister), and commenting on the fact that it looked like he had stepped all over it before folding it up. That should have been a clue to me. Alas, it wasn’t. Shall we have a line-reading of the note? Oh, yes, let’s shall.
Hey babe, what’s up with you?
What’s up with me? I’m sure at the time there was a lot of squealing and reading this note over and over again with my friends that was up with me. Thanks for asking.
N ot much here I’m pretty bored right now,
Why are teens always claiming boredom? When I was a teen my friends and I had things going on non-stop from sun-up to way past sun-down, yet all of my notes always have this comment about how bored we all are. Poor Steve. So bored.
Hey, listen, Andi told me about what Heather told her, and don’t worry be cause I know that it is not true and that you would not say that, I BELIEVE YOU )))’&%$#”*
Oh no. Trouble in paradise. Andi told Steve about what I told Heather and then Heather told Andi but actually I didn’t say that? I wish I could remember what I supposedly said, because knowing these people the way I do (including myself) I probably DID say that. So, sorry Steve. Chances are we were all playing a twisted little game.
I’m really sorry that you cried and everything ,
oh boy, I turned on the waterworks over Steve? I am a moron.
but I relly believe you I sure hope that you believe me, I can’t believe that Heather would say that about you saying that, but I’m sure that she must have Gotten her info mixed up BIG-TIME
I’m so glad and I totally believe you that you believe me and I don’t believe Heather would say that either and can you believe how much believing we are doing right now? Lots of believing. BIG TIME.
Wipe away those tears little girl, you shouldn’t be crying;
Are you patronising me? I think you are.
I ‘ m not worth crying over anyways, No jut kidding,
Just kidding? Just kidding? SOMEONE thinks awfully highly of himself.
Thiiis pretty coll ttping on this mnual typwriter It kind of sucks but that’s O.K.
Ok, moving on from the crying and the believing.
Tell DD I said HI! I’m sorry if I spelled your name wrong, but that’s how ANDI
told me how to spell it
Story of my life, dude. My name is unspellable.
If I told you that you were dumb, would you hate me?
Oh my god. What kind of shit is that?
I’m just kidding thhonly reson that I wrote that is because I was testing out this stupid thing because it all off a sudden went KURPLUNK on mmmmmmmmme me,
Whatevers, man. I should have kicked you to the curb a long time ago.
Is this a long note? It better be because it took me a 1/2 an hour to ttpe it,
Bust out the violins.
Sorry I’ve been using comma’s instead of periods cause’ my periods are out of order,
Ha ha! You said “periods!”
I really had fun at the movie’s yesterday,
You did? That was a nice thing to say.
An di wrote that,
Oh. Of course. God forbid YOU would tell me you had fun. Talking through your sister. Ya big coward.
Well hon, I’ve really got to go now, See ya later, aye, Sorry I did’nt call you
the other day, but I had business to take ccare of,
What are you, Don Corleone? What business are you taking care of? Punk ass non-calling boy.
LOVE YA’ BABE
LOVE STEVEY D,
Thanks for the memories, babe.