Tell me what you think is worse: to be selfish or self denying?*

Last night we went to a free concert at LLBean. We got to town early to do a little shopping (I refuse to call it Back to School shopping. It is July, people, which is not a month for BtS activities. Seriously.) and find our comfortable place on the lawn. LLBean Visa card had a kiosk, and if you showed your card you got a free gift. Well... my card also had the magic last digit and got us upgraded seats! We were prepared for blankets at the back of the lawn, and ended up second row, center, in front of the stage. Karma is not always a, ahem, witch.

But that's not the point of this post, at least not directly. We went into the flagship store for the restrooms, and I walked by the postcard display. Now, for anyone reading this who does not know me (anyone? Bueller?) I love to send postcards. Love it. I carry postcard stamps with me, because you never know when you'll need one. When we go on vacation, I must spend upwards of $100 on stamps and cards. I mail them to my friends, sure, but also to my Sunshines. Because who doesn't love getting a postcard in the mail?

So, I bought one and wrote it out to my nephews. When they were last here we met my parents at said store (it was mid August, making it acceptable to do the BtS shopping trip), and I thought they'd get a kick out of the card-- cause they also understand my obsession, having received a fair number of postcards over the years. Dave was explaining my habit to Ben's friend who joined us for the concert, and his description pretty much summed up my existence (paraphrased of course, because I didn't write it down):
      Most people collect things to bring home. Rach is the only one who has a collection she gives away.


Yet again, my husband is able to take a simple thing that I do (albeit with shocking predictability) and summarize that action into a key component of my personality: I am much happier when I am giving things away. I love to give things to others. The best part of Christmas is finding the perfect present to give. I love to cook for others. To leave them notes and presents... and yes, postcards. I do have to work to keep it in check-- too much of anything can become addictive and destructive-- but to be known for giving instead of taking, well, I am totally ok with that.

Turns out karma feels the same way.

*This lyric is from another of my favorites, Wonderlick, who is an offshoot of one of Dave's favorites, Too Much Joy. I was listening to this song yesterday as I was delivering food to someone. No joke.