thursday

Jet Pens, guys. Jet Pens. I am positively itching to receive my package of fountain pens, inks, pencil sharpeners, and erasers. I might even go as far as saying I am itching so much, my anticipation is scabbing over. Do I even need to mention the free shipping, affordable prices, heart stopping packaging, Lamy classics (extra fine nibs only, please), etc. etc.? I bought my first fountain pen many moons ago. It was terrible and I, fumbling, left the crummy art store with a thick nibbed, cheap, plastic fountain pen. I loved the hell out of it. It made my handwriting appear profound, dark and licking with lapped ink. Throughout high school my fingers were permanently stained with ink. So little has changed. I couldn't walk out of an art store without breaking at least one bottle of ink. While the breaking of objects phase of my life appears to be over, my obsession with fountain pens has hardly waned. It has multiplied and branched off into wild forays as I delve into vintage sets, antique nibs, invisible inks.

And if my penspeak possibly anguishes you, you who happen to write with ballpoints, gels, and plain ball, don't fret. There will be no pen-slinging pen duals. Jet Pens is big enough for the two of us (particularly those of us who have had their hearts broken by the sudden loss of a fountain pen purchased in Paris).

Now if only I could find a Japanese pencil store equivalent.