Postcards are Groovy

The hand written note is a dying breed. I’m particularly guilty of contributing to this course of events because usually my handwriting is indecipherable to most eyes. It’s really atrocious, especially for a girl. I know that’s a sexist statement but seriously, it’s so far removed from the usual neat, tidy, aesthetically pleasing handwriting of my girlfriends (shout out to Kristin T who has THE MOST AWESOME handwriting in the world, and Emily who has the SECOND MOST AWESOME handwriting in the word, when she prints, that is).

Even Kory (spouse, male) has better handwriting than I do. Anyway, the point of making this point is that while I certainly don’t enjoy WRITING things to people (in the old school sense of the word), I certainly enjoy communicating with people, and I do enjoy RECEIVING handwritten notes from people.

I must shout to two people in particular right this second. I hope you’re reading and listening. Emily has always been a star postcard and note sender. She is old school, in the absolute BEST sense of the word, and even better at it now that she lives far, far away in a land she calls, “Praha”.

More recently, coming in at a VERY close second, is Andrew- a childhood friend with whom I’ve recently reconnected. That man can write some postcards. They’re creative, funny, real, uplifting, and philosophical all at once. And Andrew, even though I can’t drink Manhattans, I get the sense that we would TOTALLY be hanging if we lived in the same ‘hood, and I would either be sipping my G&T, an English cream ale, or a glass of Pinot Noir. So, thank you for your communication.

This is NOT to say that I don’t appreciate all the other various forms of communication I’m receiving. Thank you for the emails, texts, phone calls, FB messages, knocking on my door, and even for just listening to what I have to say here, however tedious or annoying it may become. I just really wanted to sing the praises of postcards, though, because they are [overused word] awesome.

Commas Are Important (How Are You Gorgeous?)

Disclaimer: This post is in no way meant to be “wanker-ish” (Jo’s word) or cocky. I am not unhealthily confident about my physical appearance.

So, today, my friend, Trish (love you, love your show!) checked in with me via text to see how I was faring after my 5th chemo infusion today.

“How are you gorgeous?”

Well, let me count the ways. My hair is short and thinning, I’ve gained a solid 8 lbs so far (another disclaimer- the reason this is traumatic is because I’m only 4’11” and my clothes don’t fit. I typically don’t focus on numbers in this area), the skin on my face and hands is turning brown, and my nose has chunks of blood coming out of it all the time. And THAT, my loves, is how I’m gorgeous. Oh, and I smile a lot.

What she really meant to ask was, “How are you, Gorgeous?” and she wound up getting an earful of armchair philosophizing.

The best part was at the end when she said, “You look the same to me, and you still make me smile.” That’s the part I feel cocky about. The smiling part. I still smile a lot and thankfully, I’m still sometimes causing others to, also.

So, today I’d like to challenge you all to answer that question. How are YOU gorgeous? Because we all are, in our chunky nose bleeding, smiley kind of way.