Saturday, November 06, 2004
Jak se Mas?
Sometimes, you know someone's your friend when they send you a postcard.
Who sends a postcard now that e-mail's here? Funny thing about that, though, is I have all sorts of friends who know my e-mail address -- and plenty of people whose address I possess -- but we don't communicate. There's something lost if you don't see people regularly. People become embarrassed to tell others about what they think is the same-old, same-old of their regular life.
That's why I've come to just tell people, "check the website". Because if they really want to know, it's all here. The interesting and the mundane. And if they don't, there's always that big X in the upper right-hand corner.
So all this makes a postcard even better. It's got that big picture on the front of it, which makes the reader think the sender was actually at this picturesque place. And it's unexpected. I remember going on vacation once in like seventh grade and buying a postcard of a topless woman; I sent it to a friend to embarrass him, and it worked, as his mom got it. I always wondered what the post office thought of that.
Enjoy the duck blood soup and 'basas, Breezy. Have a pierogi for me.
Who sends a postcard now that e-mail's here? Funny thing about that, though, is I have all sorts of friends who know my e-mail address -- and plenty of people whose address I possess -- but we don't communicate. There's something lost if you don't see people regularly. People become embarrassed to tell others about what they think is the same-old, same-old of their regular life.
That's why I've come to just tell people, "check the website". Because if they really want to know, it's all here. The interesting and the mundane. And if they don't, there's always that big X in the upper right-hand corner.
So all this makes a postcard even better. It's got that big picture on the front of it, which makes the reader think the sender was actually at this picturesque place. And it's unexpected. I remember going on vacation once in like seventh grade and buying a postcard of a topless woman; I sent it to a friend to embarrass him, and it worked, as his mom got it. I always wondered what the post office thought of that.
Enjoy the duck blood soup and 'basas, Breezy. Have a pierogi for me.
