2008 was a year of good decisions. I traveled to Mexico for the first time. I grew out my bangs. I reserved the user name "jamiegolden" on a beta email service called G-Mail.
I didn't anticipate it becoming my go-to email address since I was happy with the stable and secure "email@example.com."
But alas, Netzero went the way of scrunchies and Clearly Canadian.
There I was, an early adopter of something valuable that would last. I took much pride in being "firstname.lastname@example.org" and thought the other Jamies could stick it.
Until I received an email intended for one of those Jamies. Specifically, email@example.com.
For the past two years, I've been receiving the occasional email for Jamie. Here's what I know about her:
- Last year, she traded in her BMW for a new Audi.
- She spends large portions of her income at J. Crew, Madewell, and Zara.
- Invitations to parties on rooftops on Lexington Avenue and weekends in the Hamptons are standard.
- Her hair is specially designed by a "creative director" who charges $100 for a cut and style.
- She's missioned to Germany and volunteers for a community justice organization.
Do you want to guess?
Yep, you guessed correctly. He was a doctor who loved helping those in need and wanted to travel the world. Plus, his entire five paragraph email was grammatically correct.
I replied to that email just like Katherine Heigl would in a romantic comedy. I just knew it would lead to a meet-cute I would regale at parties and tell our baby as she fell asleep to night lights on the ceiling and essential oils on her feet.
But alas, he went the way of spam and junk mail. No reply.
Does East Coast Jamie get emails intended for me? Does she make bulleted lists of all the ways she envies my LinkedIn connections or Kia oil changes or invitations to pay my overdue book fines?
Probably not. But I do know tomorrow it's sunny and 59° here and she should hunker down for
20° and an ice storm.
What would your email reveal about your life?