Clumsy

Dear 長谷部 誠，

I thought my idea was brilliant - and that I could do some good to someone who had done good for me.  Perhaps, somehow, I could cheer and lift where I could.

I must say, I am not sure why I didn't realize before that including the postal service in my plan to 'make your day' was doomed from the beginning.

It's not the postal service's fault at all - at least, I don't think so.  The people I deal with at the Post Office are so kind and knowledgeable that I actually enjoy posting mail.  No, I place the blame squarely on my shoulders.

It was one thing to send packages to Taiwan that cost an arm and a leg.  It was another to get the largest and most expensive package returned to me six months later, because it had remained unclaimed.  Not, certainly, the fault of the postal workers in Taiwan who had written the entire account of trying to find the owner all over the box and had even repackaged up all of the items in the box after the pancake mix exploded all over everything.  Nope, that was my fault for trying to surprise Nick with a package without asking him if his address had changed in the past few months.

The second recent posting problem happened when I tried to send a letter to my sister in Uganda.  Now granted, this one was just an experiment, but I still kind of hoped.  After three months, my sister returned without the letter i.e. the front poster of your calendar.  "Next to the African Paradise" probably never has and never will count as a real address.  Shame, really, since it was your best picture.

I thought your case was different: I had a real and tangible and updated address.

If only I hadn't miscalculated the postage.

If only I hadn't underestimated the generosity of the post office to send things that don't have sufficient postage.  (and then boldly demand the postage payment from the recipient)

If only I hadn't done this five weeks in a row.

The postman told me, "Your friend might not be too happy with you," when I gasped in horror after realizing what I had done.  Then to cheer me up, he tried to comfort me, "Maybe he'll just return the favor for your birthday card."

If only I lived in a world where my laughable blunders were rewarded with birthday cards from strangers.

We can only hope right?  It's August 7, in case you were wondering.  I'll be waiting by my mailbox.    

Meanwhile, I'm going to go hide my head in shame and try to recover what little bit of dignity I have left.

Love,
Me