Post Post: Thank You for Remembering Me

(Post Posts are about things I get in the mail. You can click on any image to enlarge.)

"And none will hear the postman's knock
Without a quickening of the heart,
For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?"

- from Night Mail, W.H. Auden

I have a lot of treats to share with you today, so let's dive right into the mail pile and see what we find.

Rich Friend Cynthia sent me these gently used seasons of True Blood because she decided to upgrade to the Blu-Rays. Thank you, Rich Friend Cynthia.

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This next item was sent to someone who used to live at my address:

As you can see, it's from the Fictitious Business Name Renewal Center. Which like, what? What could that possibly be?

And the wording isn't very clear. Is the business fictitious, or the name? Or is the renewal center itself a work of fiction?

So of course Roommate opened it.

Wouldn't you?

So anyway, it appears that it refers to a fake name that you use to conduct real business. And for some reason you have to pay $125 for that. Honestly, opening the envelope just makes it more confusing.

I debated whether to show you the name this person is using, but since it's fictitious I think it's okay. Plus, it's so good: Betty Jewel. Do with that what you will.

And since Betty Jewel's name is about to expire, I guess it's up for grabs now if any of you want it.

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I also received this letter:

I know that's a little hard to read, so here is the full text:

Cartwheels for lemons to touch the censor.
What if you sprouted
Alfalfa for dinner?
According to someone
I think that's fine.
Forever the level the liquid
The nozzle
Your toothbrush.
Your heartprint.
Your headache.
Your wine claw glass dish set.
Send it to me from Minsk.
With a receipt
And I'll wash it.
Forget it -
The standard greeting of Kuala Lumpur.
Send me your glasses your eyesight your fish tank your thinking your future your nail clipper beeper bag of chips fuck it
Close the door.
Wash the door
Wash the streetlight it smells like -
Saved and sugar.

I told the sender I was putting it on the blog and asked how he wanted to be credited. I meant, should I use his name or leave it anonymous? He told me to credit it to "The only character in my comic book".

I guess that's true.

The whole letter was written on the back of this:

I can't really make it out, but it mentions crematoria and Germans. So fill in the blanks.

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The last item is a care package from my mother and her sisters. Thanks Mom and Aunties!

Here's what it contained:

1. Cape Fear rum cake
2. Gold Mine bubble gum
3. a wax mustache
4. napkins with the image of a shrugging woman and the words "If you met my family you'd understand"
5. candle with votive candle holder
6. tissues that look like hundred dollar bills
7. a piece of wood with the message "flying monkeys - I have 'em and ain't afraid to use 'em."

This package was assembled a few months back, so it contains all the basic necessities they thought I would need while unemployed and living at the YMCA.

Roommate and I weren't sure where to hang the flying monkeys plaque. So we listed it for free on craigslist.

We got a lot of responses.

I replied to all of them:

No one was willing or able to pick it up that night, and then we got bored of the craigslist game. So none of them got the flying monkeys plaque of their dreams.

It's displayed prominently in our living room now.

Freeze and the World Laughs with You

Last week I attended my first staff meeting at the new assisted living job. It was actually fun. Everyone was joking, having a good time, and the Big Boss was trying to rein us in and keep the meeting on track.

Part of the meeting was one of the nurses was giving us a first aid refresher. She was talking about what to do if someone is bleeding (protip: help them). At this point, the maintenance guy piped in, "Don't get any blood on the carpets!"

In the same dry tone as her first aid lecture, the nurse deadpans to us, "Yes, the carpets are the most important thing."

So we all chuckled at that, except for the Big Boss who held out her hands and announced over the laughter: "No, no it's not. That's not true."

But I don't want you to think Big Boss is a wet blanket. In fact, She cracked her own little joke later in the meeting. The topic at hand was preventing "elopement", which just means residents wandering away from the building. It doesn't mean residents running off to get married, but usually when we talk about it I pretend that it does in my mind. It's funnier that way.

To drive the point home, Big Boss told us about an incident at another facility where a man wandered away from their Alzheimer's unit. He was found hours later in the freezer. She started to move on, but of course we were all on the edges of our seats. "Well what happened?" my coworkers demanded. "Was he dead?"

A mischievous smile spread across Big Boss's face. "I believe he had -- frostbite!"

I don't really understand how that's a joke, but she delivered it like "frostbite" was the punchline. Like she was waiting for a drummer to give her a rimshot.

But the weirdest part is it brought the house down. She got the biggest laugh of the afternoon.