links are easier than scans, ok?

...
Tonight I delivered all the things I've found (so far) belonging to Mr. Eric Foreman and all the things I've thus promised to Miss Jess. I was going to write about unpacking the microscope box, but mostly it involved Jess getting excited and me going "ew. guinea pig blood. ew." We should've taken pictures anyway. (Hey Jess, how about some snaps in the comments when you refurbish the thing?)

It feels good to have followed through on some next steps of The Project. Plus, Eric was confused ("um, this isn't my copy of The Tommyknockers.") and Jess was so happy (reading the note dated 6-6-07 sealed inside the envelop, "this took longer to mail than I expected."). Even better, though, is that I made it back to Carson City in time to unpack an actual box of my own before midnight. I am awesome (and Jess says my awesomeness is not a fluke).

So let's get to it, shall we? It's cold in here and I'm sleepy from tea partying with the parents this morning.

Tonight, I'm approaching the zine box from last week. Facing real, breathing, funny, handsome history tonight, plus chatting with old friends and girl-talking with even older friends has given me the fortitude to complete this potentially sentimentally ruinous task. I hope.

Ok, I'm not even into the box itself, just the top layer, and I've found something written by Katherine Strickland (girl hero extraordinaire, with extra handwriting radicalness), two color-cover, offset press-printed issues of The Match, and the very first zine anyone ever handed me not written by a friend (something titled the rain that fell last night made me fall in love with you). I'm not going to make it.

I am going to end up keeping most of these.

Especially these:

• The last issue of Second Guess.
• All three The Fox and the Hound comic books (nowhere near mint).
  
• The first 10 issues of Punk Planet.
• Several issues of the BG Biweekly, including the issue featuring Narcissistic Freds and a picture of our pre-punk, high-school, not-cool selves. Not. Good.
  
• Charlie Maffitt's Brainchild, issue number one. The zine that started a friendship that would span decades and continents (and long gaps of silence).
  
• The Posters and Art of Frank Kozik (his official website is down, but you'd know his work if you saw it).
• ET and Return of the Jedi storybooks.
• That book Jonathan lent me (The Shock of the New: The Hundred-Year History of Modern Art...)
  
• Issues of Profane Existence, Styzine, Thorozine, Greedy Bastard, Beans and Rice, Lookout!, 10 Things, and dozens of other mid- to late-90s zines. No Cometbus or Dishwasher though? Weird.
• And a big stack of Maximum Rock 'n' Roll.
  

And on the questionable pile:

• Many issues of Sassy magazine. I'm keeping the one on loan from the Alpine Library (due 9-18-90). Johnny Depp is on the cover. Screw it.
• (I'm also keeping the one with happy Kurt and pre-surgery Courtney on the cover.)
• (Shut up.)

Ok, so, I  kind of failed. Or maybe not. Maybe these readables from times past are worth keeping. If I can squeeze them onto the bookshelf, then I think I'm allowed to keep them. At least until it's time to pack up the books again.

Right?

And whatever happened to zines? Have we replaced them entirely with blogs? Did we lose interest in zines, or are they solely the domain of teenagers and punk rockers? Looking at these relics, I miss the days when getting the mail could be the most exciting part of my day. I miss reading a stranger's thoughts, written in his or her own handwriting, about music, politics, and crushes.

Rekindle the old flame. Send me some mail:
Jen Scaffidi / PO BOX 4364 / Carson City NV 89702.