Lightning strikes the postman

The Post Office is my new haunt. And with a queue never less than 15 people long, I don't think I'm the only one in on the secret. It's always packed and they freely give out stamps for a lot less than any regular hang out, no matter what shoes you're wearing.

How, might you ask, did I find out about such an awesome place? The Post Office revealed itself to me through the process of Ebaying. One day, I just started to find myself in said place writing stranger's names on my hand.

You see, I do this quite a bit. If you would like to be one of these strangers, with their names on my hand, in the new place-to-be, just bid on one of my current listings (such as the below '60s dress and the grape dress I'm wearing) here.


Or maybe I'll bump into you at my new haunt.