My friends and family tend to travel a lot which is awesome for them because they seem to really like it and awesome for me because a couple of times a week we get postcards. Like actual physical snail mail postcards.
My recent favorites hail from Detroit:
“Tried finding a postcard glorifying Detroit’s beauty. I know, right?”
And Paris, France:
“I’m in Paris! Suck it, you air sickness prone bastard! That’s pretty much a Parisian “hello” so this trip is turning me into one cultured motherfucker. P.S. This honeymoon is awesome.”
I love having traveled. But I loathe traveling. Still, I miss sending postcards.