XO-LP // Laura Palmer

A Love Letter History.

Still in 1999.

Dear 28,
It's been over 40 hours since my last text message (which was sent to John wishing him the happiest of birthdays). Didn't that feel very much like reconciliation?
In that time I've read a book, enjoyed a 2 hour lunch by myself, curled up some seriously voluminous hair, danced to Otis Redding, had a super terrific conversation (without any text intrusions), found a scandalous $20, and sampled Japanese scotch. But I did not run a mile.

Apparently 1999 was a good ole day, one with many uninterrupted thoughts and conversations. We all know we're on the phone too much. I know I'm a bit over-sensitive when it comes to text messages lately, but a couple days without them hasn't been as tough as I'd thought. I mean it's been sort of awful and I feel out of touch, but I've also been much less distracted. We ate soup dumplings at Cholon. We danced (ok so I danced) to the Temptations at the Horseshoe Lounge (where I chose, literally, 22 songs). We slipped into the Cruise Room and skipped out of the Jet Hotel bar as fast as possible. And the whole time- no phone.
I drew a bunch, wrote down funny things I overheard (including the woman next to me saying that her ringtone is Randy Travis' "I'll love you forever" because she loves country and cowboy art. "It's part of our culture."), and fully enjoyed the real cherries served in my manhattan. Apparently cellphone free life means you're extra good at eavesdropping and able to spot money on the floor with ease. 
The cell phone is back. I had enough overdue text messages to make me feel a little bit cool (more than 2! Wahoo!) and enough emails from work to make me feel a little guilty for vacationing. After the nearly two days without the blackberry, I think I might enjoy phone free time a little more often. What a good vacation.