Mailart 365 has moved

I can't remember if I like Ruination, but I rather doubt it because I'm not particularly fond of IPA. And I don't think I'm quite a dire warning yet, but I'm trying.

My house smells a bit funky after this bit of postcard burning. The back of the postcard is nicely scorched, too. I've used up all the names in my address book of people who I know would not be offended by this card (how did I end up with so many people with delicate sensibilities in my address book‽), and I want to stick to my "send to 365 different people" rule, so I may send to someone random from Sendsomething.

Back in 2007 Greg and I went to Hell ... Michigan. It is a tiny little town with not much more than a gift shop and small convenience store. There is also a cute chapel with a question mark on the top where a cross might be in any other town. I've always said that if I ever marry again, I'm getting married in Hell.

There is also a post office. I bought a ton of postcards (about 100) and we sat in the car in on a freezing cold April day, with snowflakes falling, and wrote all those cards (I had the address labels already made) so I could get them postmarked in Hell. I also brought a card addressed to myself, one I had made that featured the name of a coffeehouse I dreamed of starting ... Snowball's Chance Café, "A hell of a cup of coffee." When I got the postcard in the mail, I was shocked to see the edges singed, and later found out that ALL the cards I mailed got the same treatment. It is clever, and a bit horrifying, all at once.