Fun with e-mail

All good things must come to an end. Most recently, my yale.edu e-mail account.

I knew this day was coming. I've been receiving nothing but junk mail and the occasional mass mailing from Yale College Republicans and the Record for months now. Still, I checked through the hundreds of spam letters, occasionally finding something of interest among the offers to improve my sex life and my bank account.

I cleaned the box out for the last time on Monday, when I discovered an e-mail from my fellow YGC alto, Lauren Simpson, who had accidentally been added to a mailing list when the fellow over here neglected the single letter that differentiates Lauren's and my Google accounts.

Poor Lauren. This one goes out to her.

For three years, together we confused a significant portion of Yale's faculty and students. I received mail for the Slavs regularly. She's now probably getting the occasional sample from my creative writing workshop.

Lauren, when I discovered that the particular address on Gmail that I wanted had been taken and that I would have to a use an ever so slightly longer version, never did I assume that the nice, easy address was yours. I suppose that's to get me back for your sophomore year, right? Because now we're going to be receiving each other's mail for years to come.

It's essential that one of us become ridiculously famous so that the other can have a hell of a good time with it.