Mr. Postman! by Lady of the House

I recently learned that the mail arrived sometimes 12 times a day in Victorian England. Coincidentally, I also recently decided I was born in the wrong era.

It's a dramatic understatement to say I love mail. Despite my best efforts to temper a wild romantic within, I have decided three parcels (one with fine soaps from Italy), two breezy hand-scrawled letters from afar (one from someone I miss and wonder about), and a peppering of postcards and glossy catalogs are destined to arrive at my doorstep each day. I am at a complete loss to quell these lofty hopes.

So, when the typical arrives--the we-didn't-receive-your-final-payment notice, and ValPaks for the last 3 tenants, and 6 pre-approved credit card offers, and an oh so exciting catalog for camping gear--the romantic is dropped like a bad pair of clip-on earrings and the claws come out.

You already know I'm private. (Hello! Lady of the House??) So when I've decided my name and my address have been whored out, cross-referenced and tasted enough of ooh-you-like-that-then-you'll-love-this, I reach for DMAchoice.org. That's right people. The Direct Marketing Association. I just updated my profile now that we have a new address (one I think we can live with for the next little while), and I smiled to think of all the junk mail that won't be printed in vain. An empty mailbox is another thing to deal with in my case, but I do fare better this way.

I wonder, do you end up dumping most of the mail in the recycling bin? Oh my goodness, sign up! It's free, and it's your chance to stick it to the Man. Okay, not really, but it's that same sick joy you might have had tattling on the kid cheating in biology. (Wonder how his love life is these days?)

With DMAchoice.org, you're dealing with the people hounding you. You can opt out of everything (my personal favorite), opt out of most things and opt in to a few old standby catalogs you do enjoy receiving, and you can also link to a portion of the site that handles those pesky credit card offers.

Now go write someone a letter for Pete's sake.

xoxo

{ Lady of the House }