I come bearing peas


You know when someone calls/emails/texts you and you love that someone but you’re so busy so you don’t get back to them right away? And then suddenly you turn around and it’s next week and you still haven’t called? But also you’ve been home so little that there are delicious strawberries rotting in your fridge and you have no clean underwear? So you figure that they’ll give you a pass?

And then how that turns into another week? And then you know it’s really unforgivable and now so much has happened that it’s overwhelming to even think about getting caught up? And last time you talked was before you had even picked up your Holga, before your first time in the darkroom (where your film unrolled in the light and you lost half your photos, naturally), before you went down to L.A. for one night, just for a party, before your (almost)father-in-law’s visit and before you made five cake stands and started making the epic slideshow to end all slideshows and bought a giant, rusty apartment mailbox at the Depot even though Steve told you you it was junk(to which maybe you said whatever, of course it’s junk NOW, but it’s going to be so awesome when I’m done with it and you will love it and also I hope you know that if you actually make this whole lifelong commitment thing you are totally going to spend a lot of time lugging around old, ugly, rusty things that I have an immediate, inexplicable love for so you should probably make peace with it now)?

Ahem.

Internet, what I’m trying to say is I’m really sorry I haven’t gotten back to you.

But look! I got you some delicious peas.

Hand-shucked.

I even put them on a cake stand for you.


I hope we can still be friends.