Man I’m way too good at destroying the introduction paragraphs to my posts. I think the fact that it’s happened three times now is a sign that I should start these posts in a word processor instead of directly into wordpress. Okay but here’s the thing–I’ve always been super impressed with 7 Year Pens. Kels and I have dorked out about them for a while, but I’ve never been brave enough for the investment. I mean, that’s a 7 year commitment! To a small piece of plastic! I’ve never even committed to a home for seven years, so a pen seems rather unlikely. Regardless, though, I like them. So back in late July, when I was picking up last minute supplies for my sister’s wedding guest book, I grabbed a seven year pen. I took the plunge. I slapped a tiny ball and chain to my writing hand. I rambled for much longer than I should in a make up intro paragraph.
Whatever. The point is, I bought a pen. It was really exciting. It was right before I went on vacation, so I packed it with me. And here is where you need to learn some backstory about the type of person I am.
I try really hard to be the kind of person who doesn’t hold grudges. I want to let things go, I really do. Be a forgiving person. Accepting. Embracing, even, of those who wrong me. I have a philosophy that you should greet someone the way they greet you. As in, when people treat you poorly, be aware of it and don’t let them in. But when those people are ready to greet you openly, be open in response. Don’t let the little hurts stick for too long.
But DAMN I just could NOT get over this seven year pen failing me! One month in! Like, seriously. WTF, pen, WTF. Seven years from now, I’ll be like NOW. NOW is when you could have failed.
So I wallowed, yes, but then I wrote the company. I didn’t expect anything from it, mostly I was just grumpy. Still polite, though, as I tried to explain that I thought there was a bubble in the ink barrel or something. Turns out I spent way too much wallowing and not enough time writing the company. They were super nice, though, and emailed me back promptly-asking me where they could send a replacement ink barrel! Such nice folks.
Not long after, a really adorable and sweet package turns up in the mail. It has not one but two ink cartridges, making my pen a 14 year pen, but it had some other fun trinkets as well!
The only, and fairly ironic, problem? I couldn’t find the pen. Somehow in all the moving, the pen was misplaced. Go figure. It was another week until we went to my dad’s place for dinner and my stepmom mentioned that they had a bag of somethings we’d left there for me. The words “Is a white pen with a fork on it in there?” left my mouth before a much more polite and appropriate “thank you” could. It was awkward, especially since she said no, it wasn’t in there.
There is a happy ending to this ridiculously long story, though, because when she mentioned the pen to my dad, he remembered throwing it in their kitchen junk drawer. Reunited with both the pen and the new ink barrel, life is good again and my pen writes beautifully!