Mail

I also worried that learning how to use e-mail would be like learning how to program our VCR, an unsuccessful project that had confirmed what excellent judgment we had shown in not purchasing a car, etc.

Anne Fadiman, At Large and at Small: Familiar Essays

Reminds me of my old-fashioned self. I enjoy hand-written letters over emails. I don't text: I call. I prefer walking close distances: I'm terrified of public transportation. I dislike fast food: I cook. And yet I'm typing on this intangible page with a machine whose technology I know so little about. 

Seeing Ben

I saw Ben. We were in a coffeeshop in Lake Forest. The coffeeshop was Starbucks. (You had asked him where he will drink coffee when he's eighteen. He said Starbucks.) And there he was, standing there, smiling, reminiscent of you. Then I woke up.