Dear Andrew, / by LD

A conversation via text between my sister (who interns for Band of Outsiders) and myself:

Jody: I'm packaging up clothes for Andrew Bird. Shall I slip a love note in the pocket for you?

Me: Yes.

Jody: Dear Andrew, whistle me away. I love you. Love, Laurel

Me: Dear Andrew, I'll be your sparrow. Like, Laurel

Jody: I could just slip in your picture so he recognizes you at the next 8 shows.

Me: DO IT NOW. This might be my only chance. And Jody? Don't let this be like the time I told you to kiss Tim Gunn's shoes AND YOU DIDN'T.