Trapped Someplace Fabulous


Hang-out suggestions by mail. Philly is so close, really, but when you have work all week and have a standing calendar event in the city, it becomes hard to get away. I’ve been considering sending a postcard to my hairdresser in Boston (yes, she’s that good; for the first 2 years down here I went back up there every 2 months) to let her know that I’m a wreck and I miss her. Or maybe I should just get my ass up there. She doesn’t work on Sundays and the calender item is Saturday, with not enough time to make it up there for her last appointment afterward. Sigh.

I’ve pretty much always been like this, calendar packed to the gills. It doesn’t surprise anyone but me. My first 6 months in NY, though, my calendar was wide open. I had a chance to experience this magical thing that other people make it to called “happy hour” where the drinks are super cheap and it’s still light out. If you’ve never participated in that magic I suggest you try it before your schedule swallows you up like mine has done.

Anyway, Happy Leap Day! My employer gets an extra day of work out of me today, but I get to have an extra cup (series of cups, who am I kidding) of coffee, eat lunch one more time, and escape the office one more time. Those things don’t suck. By the way, I highly suggest last week’s episode of 30 Rock, which focuses on today (available on Hulu). Hilarious! Maybe I’ll wear yellow and blue to work.

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I Hope to Make a Pattern


Julian brought this card back from China when he went last year (I’m glad I’m not the only one who buys postcards and brings them home). He told me that he brings back postcards from the places he travels and puts them up on his wall to look at the places he’s been. I told him he should start sending them to people, but I suppose I’m biased.

I have two US Postal Service news items to point out today:

    More importantly, the USPS plans to slash its processing centers by nearly 50%. It is expected that this will result in the loss of 35,000 jobs. This isn’t new news per se, as USPS financial issues have been growing more and more dire in recent years.  The USPS was crippled in 2006 by a law passed in Congress requiring advance funding of the health benefits of its workers for the next 75 years (more explanation and lots of links here).  This is basically my reasoning behind often overpaying with Forever stamps on my postcards… I consider it a donation to a beleaguered entity.  Too bad I can’t claim it on my taxes.

Sticker Booths Wane


Ah, Boston in the late 90’s: beating the heat in Chinese Dunkin’ Donuts, posing in glasses in photo booths, and late mornings reading bizarre magazine articles to each other on The Dream, the giant velour couch at Kristine’s (and for a short while my) loft. They were simpler times. Simple, yet complex.

This is the closest thing to a valentine that I sent this year. There’s the requisite red, but also, I like to think that recounting our good times reminded her how much I love her. Aww. I love this Eames stamp, too. I have a few more from the same sheet but as with all non-food items I love, I’m rationing them.

I acquired a number of Jack Handey cards in the mid-90’s (1994 is my best guess), and I’ve had them with a grip of other cards and postcards in a red Sesame Street lunchbox since then. Every once in a while I take them out, go through them, and put them away. Somehow the Deep Thoughts cards never get sent. I intend to change that, even if tearing off the back of them to turn them into postcards makes them look re-gifted. Not that there’s anything wrong with that… re-gifted is really just recycled! Hmm… may have to start regifting cards… suck it friends!

Buttercup



I’m generally not a big Valentine’s Day participant, even when I’m in a relationship. However, I did receive two postal valentines this year, as well as one via MMS. The sender of this one holds the title of Most Consistent Holiday Correspondant in my life. Kat is a collector and supporter of the arts, so she often sends handmade cards such as this one (that I’m totally fond of). She had me at the twig, the checkers, and the lavender-grey.

Since San Miguel


A hastily written (but not hastily sent) birthday postcard to extended family (my Katmother’s brother-in-law). I honestly couldn’t remember which was more recent, our vacation in San Miguel or my trip down there for Thanksgiving. I just went to my external drive on an investigation, and discovered the following photo from November 27, 2005:

My modern version of the cathedral in San Miguel D’Allende (see the old version that I recently sent to Raquel here) was found in a directory from November 19, 2006:

Mystery solved, San Miguel was more recent. I take pictures to remember.

The Rich and the Chosen


I don’t remember buying this postcard, but I found it with a few that I bought on the old strip in Vegas, so that’s my best guess. Atlantic City in Vegas… weird. Then again, everything in Vegas is weird.

Riffing on the mismatch between book and passage from Justin’s correspondence (That Delicate Reserve, 02.09), I’ve juxtaposed something campy and lighthearted with something darker and totally unrelated.

The quote is from the Charles Bukowski poem, Dinosauria, We. There’s a kind of creepy reading by him on YouTube that I just discovered this morning, here. I find that reading poetry leads to better comprehension than listening; if you’re like me, you can find the text (albeit without the stanza breaks – boo) here.

Googling for the text of the poem just now taught me that MF Doom’s album title Born Like This was taken from the same poem. I knew I loved that guy!

I Think I Feel Something


Almost 11 years ago (whoa!), a group of my friends went out to California to ride their bicycles back across this great country of ours.  They faced mountains, snowstorms, 3.2 beer, and… each other.

Hugh (who according to Jon wimped out and hitchhiked instead of choosing frostbite) was my roommate at the time.  As I recall Hugh left me a message from the road recounting their heroic departure… somebody had a boombox strapped to their bike, and I’m A Survivor (Destiny’s Child) was playing.  I’ve always imagined Hugh riding out of SF at dawn, one fist pumping in the air, singing “I’m a survivor, I’m gonna make it!” at the top of his lungs.  This scene is probably stuck in my head because upon his return he acted it out a number of times.  True or false, it’s in my memory, and I like it there.

I love that Jon sent me this update from their trip, and that I held onto it.  I’ve always been fond of the way that a postcard is like a little snapshot into life at that time, some with more detail than others, but a vignette regardless.  This brings back memories of when I used to hang out with Jon all the time, when I lived with Hugh, and when I worked at MIT.  Solid postcard.