This is a guest post by Buffalo Girl - she is funny and smart, and
secretly I worry that you'll like her more than me. Because I've had a
chance to play editor, I also took the liberty to change the names (not
to protect the innocent, to protect us silly) and have added a few of my
own comments. Welcome to a glimpse of our lives.  Enjoy.

I just wanted to let you know that if you don't have a Nursing Home Box
started, you'd better get your ass in gear because it is just too much
fun to take those periodic trips down memory lane.  After the Great
Basement Flood of 2005, I realized I'd better buy some plastic totes at
Wal-Mart and transfer my
stupidly-housed-in-cardboard-boxes-priceless-letters to them. (Amy:  she
has admitted that if anything were to happen to her house, she would
save the boxes first. Hubby and pets be damned, just got those
boxes!) Just so you know, I have 5 boxes of letters... Family, Old
Boyfriends, Best Friends (better be me), Pre-1992 misc, random HS and
college friends, and then post-1992 misc. I also have 3 big boxes of
"stuff" 2 from the job and 1 huge one from HS that we are going to get
drunk and go through one day and crack up like hyenas, but I
digress. (Amy:  yes she really is that organized; I am too, so this, in
a former life I helped create the taxonomy for all creatures great and
small, applied to her sentimental crap makes me smile]

Anyway, on a whim, I decided to pull out some letters from the Old
Boyfriends box while engaging in the transfer of materials, and let me
tell you, they are fucking EXCELLENT!  Those letters from CS (he of the
World's Smallest Penis) just cracked. me. up.  And I had forgotten that
there was a period of time when M's younger brother N enlisted in the
Air Force and I was writing to him (they made it into the Boyfriend Box
by association)... those letters were very sweet.  (I didn't pull out
M's letters because I've been through them so many times but let the
record show that he was BY FAR the most romantic, eloquent writer of
Boyfriend Letters EVER)  Anyway, in N's letters he was just so happy to
get mail, and for a moment, I felt sad that letter-writing is such a
lost art now.

(Amy:  She used to kick my ass up and down the town for not writing her
enough, thank god email came along and I could just type my merry heart
away. And, let me tell you, knowing someone has proof of shit you did
and said 20 years ago is a might scarry.  I am determined never to let
my hubby near the nursing home boxes, there are some things hubbies just
don't need to know!)