Postcard #225: OR Virginity

Text:

Hey. I don't know about you but I would totally go see DB sing in Vegas if I could. The first time I was in an operating room was my 3rd semester of nursing school. I remember being led into the OR at this 12 OR community hospital. "Don't touch the blue." I remember the tech handed me her dance card for the first time in my life. She spun and tied herself up I took the card and put it directly into the trash hanging off the field. Contaminating her trash. A concept at the time that was so foreign to me... She had to rip her garbage off the field... I felt so fucking stupid. She laughed and was patient with me.  I then got to observe a case where a vascular surgeon debrided a foot abscess. After washing it out for a minute he placed the pulse lavage gun against the dorsal side of the patient's foot, lifted the foot and shot water through the patient's foot and hit me and a[nother] student with water through the plantar side of the foot. I guess since I found this funny instead of gross it was a good thing.

Sent to another friend and coworker.  I still remember that tech who handed me my first dance card and explained how someone can contaminate trash.  She was an LPN I remember.  B. Bland.  She eventually started working weekends.  I wonder if she is still there or if she finally retired.  I found her here.  She certainly taught me to be patient with first-timers in the Operating Room.  

Postcard #224: squirrel.

Text: 

I've probably written about this before... But I kind of hate squirrels... It's been replaced a bit by a hatred of moles. But...these rats with furry tails? Eh. Don't get me wrong I'm not swerving at them in my car but I'm not swerving too hard out of their way if they run in front of me. My grandfather used to feed them peanuts out of his hand. I just know how destructive they can be once they get in your house. My old house in NJ once got infected with them at a point in the house that would have required a cherry picker to get at them. BB guns are considered firearms in NJ. Airsoft guns are not. I researched the most powerful airsoft rifle and painful ammo that I could afford. I would sit in my living room, inebriated, shooting them when they poked their heads out of the ceiling drywall. I once littered my yard with pumpkins just to lure them. I was in a dark place. I realize that. None died but harm did reach them.

Sent to a friend and former coworker in Bend.  This is a true story.  The house no longer stands.  It is on the verge of being foreclosed upon.  Did the squirrels win?  I still have the rifle.  Occasionally I will see a squirrel in my backyard doing something it shouldn't sneaking into the chicken coop or eating flowers or veggies.  I think...Tom.  Go get your gun.  And part of me wants to run and go grab it.  But the effort it takes now...makes me feel old.  

Postcard #223: First Round

Text:

Everyone is supposed to be straight edge until they are 21. I seriously was... Maybe I did not do the dumb X's on my hands or listen to Minor Threat or the Gorilla Biscuits. (I'm kind of amazed that I remember those bands.) The first bottle of alcohol I bought was a bottle of Kahlua to make mudslides with my then-girlfriend (now wife) a few weeks after my 21st birthday. I had tasted alcohol but I was so afraid of not being in control of my own body or actions... It would give me panic attacks. So I never drank or took drugs. I know now that is a characteristic of OCD. But I've also learned that drinking fixes that. I don't drink as much as I used to.. fatherhood fixes that. Who the fuck has time for that? Get well man I'm glad you are doing better. Much love... And "thoughts and prayers"...

Sent to a friend and coworker who is out sick.  I think the last time I was absolutely obliterated was before I came out to Portland.  We were trying to reduce what we had in our liquor cabinet before we moved and I was attacking bottles nightly.  Sometimes draining the dregs of two bottles or more a night.  There is a video I filmed of my wife dragging me through our apartment by my feet while I laughed hilariously at my inability to function.  I want to say I am not proud of this but it is an event in my life and I am glad I did not require an alcohol detox on my trip out west.  

Postcard #222: "SAD"

 

Text:

12/8/21 (rainy) 41ﾟ

 I love this time of year. I get to pretend to myself and lie to others that the "gray" that lurks in my head year-round…

Can be blamed on precipitation or Earth's angle in relation to the sun or the clouds in the sky and their color or how much daylight there is or how cold it was that day…

 A fantasy that if my cards are played right, the unweather holds out… I can easily get half a year of self-delusion out of it. 

 -TM

 www.minormumbles.com

Sent via postcrossing to Broomstick.

So this person was the latest postcrosser to stress me out.  She doesn't want metered stamps.  She would like postcard artwork but only if it's your artwork... no adult coloring book pages.  I did not even have to look at her wall to know she was some sort of postcrossing veteran who has reached the point in her hobby where she can gatekeep postcarding for other people.  Yeah.  Over 1000 postcards.  Does postcrossing send people an official gatekeeper badge after a certain number of cards sent?

I should not have sent her this card.  

The past 3 cards are over 3 months overdue.  Yeah.  A lot of that is my fault.  90% But...some of that is this person's fault.  Reading this profile and imagining myself as someone whose only way to express themselves might be to color in some adult coloring books...then this bird comes along and tells them their art isn't good enough for her.  

Ugg.  And don't get me started on the stamp thing.  

She actually encouraged me to go and look at my profile to see if I was doing this to anyone.

I am on medication now since writing this postcard.  I am still deluding myself though. 

Postcard #221: Happy

 

Text: 

I found these stickers in a desk I bought. I hope to restore it enough to actually use it when I write postcards. www.minormumbles.com

I sat down to write this card with a clear intention to write about something happy.  Something bright and yellow like this postcard. I am simply drawing a blank. What does that mean? It confuses and scares me simultaneously. I am not working today. But I am working tomorrow. I have 3 people I have to write postcards for… I am a week overdue. But I didn't manage to find a card that was yellow and happy. That's more than I have for the other 2 people. One of them is stressing me out but it's self-induced stress. I wonder if I put that sort of stress on other people?  But regardless thank you for asking me to look for a happy yellow postcard. It was an important exercise.

-TM

Sent via postcrossing to Ryukin.

To give you some perspective how old these postcards are...the desk I mention here is already fixed.  And up in my gameroom/office.  I am in there right now looking at it.  

Postcard #220: Self Improvement

Text:

www.minormumbles.com 

Conversations with my daughter (3.5 yrs)…. a series

"Daddy?" She asks looking up from an ice cream cone. 

"Yes?" I ask. 

"How are you going to make yourself better?"

I chuckled. I know there are tons of things I could do to make myself better. Read more, lose weight, exercise more. But I was curious. 

"What should I do to make myself better?" 

She mirrored my smile back and said drawing out the first word. "Well… you can go hang yourself in that tree?"

 I laughed… we, laughed. 

 Sent via postcrossing to pawarisa_kang.

Postcard #219: the Expendables

I sent this card to a friend of mine who has been under the weather. I am not posting the text of this card because...well yeah. HIPAA? IDFK. 

I'll probably borrow the themes of it and send it to someone else in the future.

Postcard #218: Bad Kitty

Text:

I lived in Miami, Florida for what I would define as my "formative years." My parent's house had a screen porch. Cats and dogs would be able to access it through a special "doggy" door. Having a lot of animals and food outside have the added "bonus" of attracting other animals. Possums. Raccoons. And of course, other cats. There was this BIG orange cat who spent months terrorizing my cats. One night the cat had come onto the porch and cornered my cats and was simply beating the hell out of them. Biting. Scratching. The commotion was terrible. My father went outside with a broom and cornered this massive Orange cat. My young childhood memories remember my father with a Marlboro cigarette in his mouth chasing this cat and all the vet bills he caused to my other cats. He lined up a shot and swung the back end of the broomstick so hard that when it came in contact it snapped in half. He missed. He hit the screen, ripped it, and broke the broom on the ledge. The cat never returned.

Sent via postcrossing to LauBrice.  She wanted cats.  I hope this cat will suffice.  I get the feeling she might not like the story.  Oh well.  

Postcard #217: Dumb

Text: 

I had to run some errands with my daughter. Oregon has a mask mandate. As you pull further out from Portland proper… people get more… "red." Science becomes more of an opinion or a feeling. So it is amazing how quickly I get distracted when I see people maskless. They are looking for confrontation it seems. They make eye contact. They walk around with their chests out. My brain starts calculating how much of it is oppositional defiance disorder, antivax/provax, prayer warrior bullshit, libertarian/deep state/redstate, lumpenproletariat assery, or just general absent-mindedness.  I work in an operating room. I've worn masks all day every day for over a decade. So, while it's important to wear masks to reduce the spread of covid believe me when I say that part of me just doesn't wanna see anyone's dumb face with their dumb mouths and dumb teeth. I certainly don't want to engage in a debate with them to hear their dumb opinions.

Sent Via postcrossing to hooraybeltran.  I had to taper my desire to write a postcard about Star Trek Voyagers Robert Beltran...Commander Chakotay.  As though he gets that alot or something?  Somehow I doubt he gets asked if he is related to Robert Beltran.  He does have a good user name though.  

My wife said that when she is out with our daughter she has taught her to ask my wife loudly "Mommy, why does that person wear a mask?" or "Why does that person want to get sick mommy?" at anyone she walks by them.  What a perfectly passive-aggressive thing to wield in Portland.  I am going to have to try it.

The card itself is from the Portland Peculiarium.  I have spent waaaay too much money there.

Postcard #216: DUI

Text:

I've never driven drunk. I feel like I need to preface this card with this warning. But I have been in a car with people who probably should have been more sober when I was young and dumb. When I had an apartment in New Jersey I had an upstairs neighbor who definitely suffered from alcohol-induced dementia. One night while walking my dog he wandered around the property with me and offered me tips on how to drive drunk. First. Drive with your hands on the lower part of the wheel and push your elbows against your torso. This will reduce your chance of swaying or swerving.  Making a conscious effort will keep you awake. Which brought him to his next point. Keep your windows down…. take deep breaths. The cold air will keep you awake. If it's raining keep your window open some. So, if you do get pulled over the cop will not smell the alcohol in the car when you lower the window. -TM

Sent via postcrossing to Maltezer.  She wanted dog postcards.  Funny postcards.  I think I got this one at Wall Drug or maybe I got this in Bozeman MT when driving out west?  This is a true story.  He did volunteer all this information to me.  He offered a lot of reasoning and explanation for each point that seemed kinda grounded in measured, tested scientific methodology or maybe it was just secret drunk oral tradition. If only he taught me the secret handshake.  Or maybe that was just his tremors.  

Postcard #215: Recidivism

Original Text:

Beth Lot [?] or L ox [?]

D12 

Jefferson St

Oregon City, Oreg

To:

Minnie Wane

New Text:

My daughter is quietly sitting in the car seat. I look up to the rearview mirror and lock eyes with her. I ask again, "Who did you push down at school today?" "Penelope." She answers. "Why?" "Because."  I sigh and she replies. "She was on the playground with her arms out like this." She held her arms out in a sort of crucifixion pose, head tilted back, pushed forward against the car seat restraints.  "You pushed her because her arms were out?"  I scoffed. "No, I pushed her because I wanted to be alone by myself." "Why didn't you just walk away then? Or tell her you did not want to play?" "No." "Why not?" "I don't know." The car came to a stop at a red light. "Why did you want to be alone?" I asked. "Because I wanted to read. Time out means you have to go inside and read. In the corner. So I pushed Penelope down and teacher gave me a time out." She was looking out the window watching a child in the back seat of the car next to us. I was looking at her in the rearview mirror. The light turned green and when I brought my attention back to the mirror her eyes were waiting for mine. I averted my eyes first.

I sent this to a family member.  A future one at least.  Reading over this...I wish I worked the grammar a little better.  Its hard to read when its a sort of stream of conciousness kinda format.  

Postcard #214: Go Fly a Kite

Text:

My family used to go down to Bill Bagg's State Park in Florida whenever we were going to go to the "beach".  Once we took a kite with us, and while flying it…its long red plastic tail fell off of it and fluttered away.  It flew over the sand dunes 40-50 feet off the ground. Carried by the warm ocean air it got caught in the boughs of some sand pine trees that stood far back from the shore. Every time we visited  Bill Bagg's park after that you could see the long twisty red plastic ribbon high up in the tree in stark contrast with the sparsely leafed tree. One time midweek on a school night my family drove out there with a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken. The mosquitoes were so bad you would breathe them in while running from the car to the shore.  We quickly learned you could not stay on the shore at all lest you be absolutely consumed by small flying bugs that may or may not carry malaria or some sort of viral encephalitis. Years later I returned to that beach after hurricane Andrew. The ribbon was gone along with nearly the entire tree line. Poof. -TM

Sent Via postcrossing to ned44440. She said used to be a mail carrier and she loves the ocean.  So i had two cards.  She reports having an intense fear of snakes.  Yeah.  It took a lot to not send a snake story or a snake card.  I think I have a card that has a recipe for fried rattlesnake.  It's like this weird innocuous sort of defiance disorder that sleeps just under the surface.  It's kinda like when someone says they do not want me to send them an AD card or a homemade card...[urge to send them an old MSN ad card intensifies].

Postcard #213: Gum Crumbs

Text:  Pilgrims going to church

   I lived near my school's - walking distance. In high school, we had an open campus lunch and I would walk home. My windowless school literally doubled as a hurricane shelter. So it was nice to get outside. Now, in an effort to familiarize today's youths with the dehumanizing effects of mass incarceration the school has closed lunches, uniforms, and metal detectors. On my way home I would put gum on a fence or on a signpost. In 1992, hurricane Andrew knocked the sign over and it had to be replaced. I had to replace the chewing gum. Slowly covering it with mottled green, blue, pink, and white blobs. I wonder if the post or the fences near my home or elementary schools playground I frequented in grade school still bear my gum signatures? I don't think I have ever left my gum under a table… but fences and posts are fair game. -TM

Sent via Postcrossing to Alterity.  I have had this card for a while.  There is even a chance I have already written it up on this blog.  I found about 5 of them while going through my stuff.  I don't know why I had so many written up yet unsent cards.  I guess I was in some sort of manic phase and I wrote up a bunch at once.  If I had about 5 cards that means I wrote 5 other cards and sent those instead.  I think I started drawing cards randomly and attempting to write a story on them inspired by what I saw on the card.  That seems like something I would do.  Trying to sort of astroturf inspiration.  I remember doing this and getting a bunch of postcrosser addressed from people demanding certain types of cards.  This postcrosser sort of left it blank what kind of cards they wanted.    

Postcard #212: Brethren

Text: 

Hello fellow RN. Operating room RN here. As much as I would like to dive into a tirade about covid/vaccination/layoffs/redeployment etc etc….I do not know how welcome it would be. So, I discovered post crossing on the trip to Spain when I was meeting up  at meetups and couchsurfing.com meets... And somebody told me about it when They learned I was buying and sending "weird" postcards. I get a lot of cards at antique shops, estate sales, eBay  (buying "lots" +400 cards). I really only want odd/weird ones. Estate sales are pretty good. You mentioned you were from Pennsylvania. I hope you like the card. I have family out in Murrysville PA. I worked at a summer camp out in Fort Hill PA. Anyway. Stay safe. -TM

Sent via postcrossing to bjw1220. She is a nurse. I kept myself from gushing and I guess I kept my conversation more grounded...

Postcard #211: Expired

TEXT:

 You are not my first expired card. You are however the first person I've ever sent a second card to because I'm so tired of seeing expired at the bottom of my list. You wanted an airplane… I sent you a postcard of the Spruce goose. I don't have any other jet fighters… the spruce goose wasn't even a jet fighter. But I'm going to be honest I don't have a lot of the cards that you request.  So here's some grapes. I want to plant some grape vines along one of my fences on my property. I have 2 peach trees… but they are so infected with leaf curl fungus. I've lived at this house since 2018 and I've yet to get a peach from them here. NOT A SINGLE PEACH.  We had such a bad heat wave this summer it was the 1st time the tree actually had a covering of leaves on them.  I am used to skeletonized trees with a carpet of foul smelling waxy leaves at their bases.  The heat wave killed off my blackberries and grassberries too.  I did get a few pumpkins though. Anyway bye.

Sent via postcrossing to Lario. This is my second card. You can see the first card here. I tried emailing this person 2 or 3 times. NOTHING. So now I am burning another card and another stamp to resend a whole new card. 

So here we are.

Postcard #210: Mandate

Original Text:

Monday  April 29th 1974. 

Postmark: US postal service Florida 327 may 2nd 1974 p.m.

STAMP: blue 10 cents United States We Hold These Truths Jefferson stamp

Original Text: 

Hi (?)

On our way to Key West. Then we'll go to DD Thursday. Having a great time seeing many interesting sights.  Saw this tree.

Helen.

Text:

 October 1st is the 1st day of administrative leave for the unvaccinated staff at the hospital I work. It's unpaid. This is the 1st time I've ever witnessed a mass layoff. My feelings about it have changed numerous times in the past few months. I can distill them in a few different ways. I wish they would just get the vaccine. I am so tapped out of sympathy/empathy nowadays.  Yet I work with a lot of nurses. Last estimate there were about 12 staff members leaving.  If a few of them I'm close to… one of them I consider a very good friend.  Which then in turn makes me wonder… am I a good friend? I don't know anymore.

SENT Via Postcrossing to Flocke2010. Who wanted touristy cards. One weird touristy card...coming right up! So yeah. Nearly 800 people kindasortof lost their jobs this week at the hospital system that I work. I could fill a dozen postcards with different types of feelings that I have about this whole thing.

Postcard #209: Relics

Text: 

A very good friend of my wife and I's went through a pretty crummy divorce mid pandemic. I guess all divorces are pretty crummy regardless of how you slice it. But I remember were talking to my father about it. My parents divorced maybe 7 years ago. My father listened, offered advice. He eventually offered one lesson to me, in particular, he told me… don't get too close. He explained that when the dust settles from this divorce she is going to see you as a relic of her past. When she talks to you you will be a reminder of her past life. TWO parts.  You will remind her of the time she spent with her ex-husband and you will remind her of the time she spent moving on. I scoffed at my father. Surely my wife and I  forged a friendship that would survive this. She has a boyfriend now. We barely speak.  I'm not sure what embitters me more.

Sent via postcrossing to ou. She wanted celebrities and royalty. Bang. I have since spoken to my friend. But...what my father said still lingers. I still feel pretty bittered. Admitting I am a relic or admitting my father might have been right.  Strangers bearly read this blog. I think I am pretty safe from her or my father reading it.

Postcard #208: Highlands

Text: 

In New Jersey there is a town called "Highlands". There is an old lighthouse there which was built in 1828. There is also a bridge here that connects the Highlands to the town of Sea Bright. My grandfather used to dive off the bridge as a child. So that had to be in the 1930's at some point...  on one of those dives he injured his ear drums… permanently. Less than a decade later the country has been plunged into World War II. He is rejected from the military/draft because of the hearing damage. Years later after his death in 2013 my family found letters begging a recruiter to be accepted in order to join the war… A war that could have easily killed him and in turn erased my dad… me.

Sent via postcrossing to Dana_72. She wanted dolphins. She got dolphins. Bingobango.

Postcard 207: Jaywalker

 

Text:

In college (USF) I was convinced I would die from getting hit by a car as a pedestrian.  I would be pulled out of their windshield or off the asphalt then I would languish in a hospital bed. Ventilated. I would eventually expire after a few weeks of agonizing those I love.  For all intents and purposes, I died on that road, not in that hospital room. This translated to a fear of Jaywalking. No crossing the street without a signal… or at least voicing my displeasure at having to do it when friends pulled me into the street unexpectedly. Now that I'm older other deaths seem more likely… more inevitable. Heart disease. Cancer. Violence. General stupidity. I find myself Jaywalking more often… in a misguided attempt to balance the scales.

Sent via postcrossing to Lovozero.  I found this card.  I had written it exactly 5 years ago.  I never addressed it to anyone.  This gentleman did not have many requests so.  Winner Winner.  

Postcard #206: Boring

Sent via Postcrossing to culichi who had a pretty brilliant request.  She wanted only cards that I think are boring with the prompt asking me why I find it boring.  I should have written more.  I should have studied the card.  It looks kinda weird the more I look at it.  I focused on the church solely.  The parking lot it just a sea of grey.  What is up with that?  And a blue sky in Portland?  Come on.  What a fucking fabrication....all of it.  I should have sent her another boring pastoral church picture.