Typographic Love

I don't really consider myself a "material girl." In fact, over the last couple of years I've made a slight journey into minimalism in several aspects of my life. It saves money and I've found, for the most part, it is more aesthetically pleasing.

However, every once in a while I find myself really wanting something that is, admittedly, completely unnecessary. The most recent eye candy for me has been: a typewriter.

I was just lying in bed one night and the thought came to me that a typewriter and I could have a really beautiful relationship together. I can't say for certain what it is that really appeals to me about it. Maybe it's the thought of the gorgeous glass keys going chink chink chink as I type. Or the little hammers smacking against the ribbon to print a beautifully rustic and unique letter onto the white canvas of the hand-fed paper. Or that my raw thoughts will be presented defiantly and courageously in hard-copy form with no option of deleting.
Or maybe it's because whenever I imagine what my favorite writers look like when they write, I don't imagine them sitting in front of a PC opening up a Word Document. Sometimes I imagine them chewing thoughtfully on the nib of their fountain pen (another slightly coveted item,) but mostly I imagine them plunking passionately away at a rickety old typewriter. (OK, I know I'm not supposed to believe everything I see in the movies -- think Moulin Rouge and Stranger Than Fiction-- but it is still very appealing to me.) Oh, the romance of it all.

My goal is to design my other blog, Scabby Lists, to look like it's been written on a typewriter. So far, due to my poor html skills, I'm failing miserably. But that's the direction I'm headed in case you were wondering (because of course you were.)

On sort of a side note, I am completely in love with everything at Sewn by Blythe, particularly the darling plushie typewriter pictured below. How beautiful it would be to snuggle up with one of those at night. Forget Teddy.

The Greatest of These is Charity

The other day at work I got a call from a disgruntled distributor.

"There was $100 charged to my card on January 8, 2007. I know I didn't get anything in January. I need you to check on it and get me a refund," he told me huffily.

Nobody remembers what they purchased over a year ago, I thought to myself, but pulled up his order history anyway. He's a busy purchaser... it's one of the longest lists I've ever seen.

"Sir, I'm only able to see up to a year back. I'm gonna have to go into a different program to find anything before then. It might take a while, so is it OK if I call you back when I've found it?" I ask.

"Sure," he grumbles. I verify his phone number and hang up.

I get through the series of passcodes and authorizations in our internal database system and find an even longer list of orders. I scroll down, and there it is: Jan. 8, NTC $100 Donation. I sigh and smile to myself. He had donated to the Nourish the Children Foundation to save children in Malawi and other parts of Africa from starvation and malnutrition. He can't get too upset about that.

I call him back.
"Sir? I was able to locate the January 8th charge on your card," I inform him.
"Yes, what was it?" He asks gruffly.
"It looks like a $100 donation was made to Nourish the Children."
There's a pause on the other end.
"Oh," his voice is noticeably softer, "OK, thank you, that's all." He hangs up.

I smile to myself. My heart feels softer towards him. Not a bad guy really, I think, taxes probably got him down. If only we created more occasion to remember those starving, malnutritioned children -- more hearts and harsh voices would be softened in the world.