Last week, I was rushing around LA and trying to buy ways to organize my life. I owe a lot of that to Target, and 16 year-old employee that didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t need help carrying everything. I am a strong, independent woman, but I’m not an octopus.

I got home, sweaty, pretending that the traffic of of the city isn’t getting to me yet, and checked my mail, assuming that the dude that lived there before me really wanted his Bed Bath and Beyond coupon. I mean, it’s 20%, I wouldn’t walk away from that either.

To my utter, fantastic delight, there was a letter, addressed to me. It was from my beautiful friend, Jen, who lives in Cambodia. CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS? I could not.

There are a number of things about this that made me sit down in the hallway and read this letter, surrounded by Target bags. First, she took the time to put the actual letter in another, adorable envelope inside. Second, the Kyoto-themed tape, I want to save it and frame it. Third, she wrote the damn letter in cursive. Cursive, like how people used to write before emoji’s became acceptable.

Amazing friend Jen, you are amazing, and that first piece of actual mail made my little apartment with a mattress on the floor, feel much more like a home.

The sheer joy of this little event has also inspired me to start writing my own letters again. I used to write to my grandma, and after she passed away a few years ago, I stopped writing letters altogether. But this has given me a kick in the pants to start up again. I have already written 3, and if I have your address, expect one. If I don’t have your, and you like them too, send it along. I can adhere stickers like you wouldn’t believe.