Day 9 - Postcard to my other BFF

I met Andi when I got my first job after moving to Iowa. I was in a bad living situation and word went through the grapevine that I wasn't sleeping well and was miserable. She approached me out of nowhere (I'd never met her before) and she offered me a temporary place to stay. Again, another story which might seem odd, had the situation occurred anywhere other than Des Moines Iowa. I was skeptical of her hospitality, but called her bluff when the crap hit the fan at my apartment at 2 a.m. the following Tuesday. She answered the phone and without question just said "come over, door's open". I stayed with her for a month, then she helped me find my own place and furnished it with some of her old furniture.

I've seen her once in the past five years, since I moved to Texas. Every time we talk it's like we're picking up a conversation we had an half hour before. We've helped each other grow so much, and I can't wait to see her again.

Day 8 - Postcard to a former co-worker

At least she had the common sense to skip the state... :)

Day 5 - Postcard for an old schoolmate

I can't say too much about this one without ruining the surprise. I'll see if someone comments on this after it's received.

Day 4 - Postcard to an Uncle

I have several "Uncles" but only two of them are actual biologically so. This particular postcard is going to someone I met on the internet, and over the years became one of my dearest friends. I was living in Iowa at the time and needed to find an apartment ASAP. I went on roommates.com and found a gentleman who was looking to split the rent with someone who was responsible (check!), financially stable (check!), quiet (check!) and could move in immediately (check!). It sounded almost too good to be true. I had waited for a room to open up in a house where several of my friends were staying on a month-to-month basis. It didn't look like there was going to be someone moving out at the right time, however. I contacted roomates.com guy and went to visit him at his home. He had on a thick Dickies jacket and was grilling ribs in the backyard. Would just seem like a normal occurrence in the midwest, but it was night, and it was Winter. He would pop outside to check the meat, then come back and chat a bit about his work history. He used to be a volunteer fireman, but quit because he couldn't sleep at night without having nightmares of the days before. He seemed very genuine and funny. I really enjoyed meeting him. The next day a room opened up in the home I was waiting for, so I called the gentleman (Kenny) to tell him I no longer needed a roommate, but thanked him for his time. 


I kept his contact information and set him up with a friend of mine who needed a roommate. They didn't really jive and after a few months, neither did my housemates and I. A little shuffling occurred and I was Kenny's roommate. I inherited a cat from one of my housemates and Kenny was smitten. The cat, (Reggie) was very mild mannered and attentive. Kenny spent months training the cat to do little tricks. I had no idea cats could be trained like dogs! Kenny became the guy I could come home to after work and vent to, he became emotional support and a confidant. Best of all, to this day, he's still one of my few friends who I can be completely "me" with. I'm crude, I've got a biting sense of humor, I can be offensive. I love it when people get my humor.


As time passed, I had an opportunity to leave the state, but I couldn't take Reggie. Kenny was excited I left him behind. To this day I still get "Mother's Day" cards, Birthday Cards and Hanukkah cards...from Reggie. :) Kenny and I stay in contact through email, but I don't usually send snail mail. I know he'll be really tickled to get this card, and he'll laugh until he cries when he sees the picture on the front. 

Day 3 - Postcard to a Broken Buddy in the UK

I was an English Major in college, at least for a semester. I wrote a paper on Etymology. My father has had a lifetime career in Communications. My mother's an English major. I love the English language. My favorite thing about the language is how words come into fruition. Did you know 15 + words were added to the dictionary as a direct result of terms people put into use after 9/11? "Shoe-bomber" for example. True story. Look it up. So, to pay homage to my native tongue, I celebrate my days by coming up with terms which help me most easily express myself to my close circle of friends. This is where Broken Buddies come in.

Before I started my 29th year on the planet, I've usually had more "acquaintances" than "friends". I'm okay with that. I'm an introvert by nature. Due to several life changes beyond my control in the past four years, I've been put in touch with several people (mainly women) across the world, who are also "broken". I refer to these women as my Broken Buddies (BBs). The irony is, these women are far from being damaged goods. They are the most compassionate, well-educated, self-aware, intuitive, funny women I know. I'm blessed to know them all and hope I bring to them just an iota of the joy they have brought to mine.

One BB I don't know very well. We chat on and off on one of the few social online networks to which I'm a subscriber. We both belong to a group of BB women who are trying to get better. Emotionally, spiritually, physically. There is no cure for our disease, but there is hope, understanding and at times, acceptance. I mentioned my postcard challenge to the group and she followed up with an email, asking if I would send her one. Her term used was "calling my bluff". Well, Allison, there's a postcard with San Francisco on the front, being mailed from Texas, on it's way to you in the UK.

Mess with the bull, you get the horns. ;)

**Note** Another interesting thing I learned at the post office today is how to put proper postage on international mail. I wasn't sure if I was to use US stamps or tape yen to the cover...I handed the postcard to the postal worker who told me it would cost 98 cents to send. The normal price to send a postcard within the states as of today is 28 cents. I didn't want to coat the card so I bought a 98 cent stamp, and it's now on it's way. I wonder how long it will take to get there...

Day 2 - Postcard to my house

Change is inevitable. The weather changes, people change, our health changes. We cannot stop the aging process, some just do it more gracefully than others. I've gotten additional news about my health, the cold exacerbates the pain in my bones, and I'm just one person in a full house. It's hard to take the people I love for granted. I think sometimes life is just seeming to whiz by in a fast and furious blur, and it's easy to lose focus and balance. That's why today's postcard is going to the post office, and turning right back around to whence it came. Katie is a huge fan of Dale Chihuly, famous glass-blower. I bought her a pack of Chihuly postcards years ago. It's growing dust on a dark corner of the bookshelf. It was until today at least. I tore out the one postcard that's got an external installation. A great reminder for us to get outside and play; a nod to the upcoming Spring. A postcard doesn't make a lot of room to get too profound, so I just wrote down my favorite Shel Silverstein poem, and hope it will bring a smile to her face that I've missed seeing lately.

**NOTE** This postcard was a tiny bit larger than "the usual" postcard, so the post office considered it a letter and charged me full price in postage. I learned something new today!

Day 1 - Postcard to PA

I wasn't sure how to post about these without ruining the surprise. I guess I can just be quasi-vague and pray that no one cares about my blog enough to read this. So my first postcard goes out to a friend I met on Facebook (have still yet to meet face-to-face). She has interminable wit, is always a platform for sound advice, and is above all else, a good listener. Oh, and her irreverence makes me want to hug her until she turns to dust.

She got her PhD 3 days ago, when she returned to Utah for the weekend. I'm honored and humbled to have sent her a Utah postcard, addressed to "Dr Rosenberg".