The Gang Gets Morbid

No but really, let's consider this...

Doesn't that just make you want to barf?

Honestly McTalkers, we can only lament my not having kicked the bucket after hitting the publish button on something like that--literally hours before I died heroically in a plane crash.  No, screw heroic, I want to use "hero" later. Let's call it,  dying "courageously."
Ok wait, courageous or valorously. I'm going to come at you like Emily Dickinson and leave that choice up to you, my editors.
Atanyrate,  in the bard's dirges, or tabloid headlines--whichev, it would later come out that I was seated in an exit row and felt capable of preforming those duties. Sure, the plane would be full of other would-be heros including the pilot, but that's a really tired trope, don't you think? Erin the Lionhearted seated in exit row seat 9F sounds a lot more compelling.
You would watch that mini-series, admit it.
And thus, a cute picture of me, feeding a deer or helping bag groceries for someone old and incontinent would surface as one of those image macros that get's reblogged a million times on Tumblr. (I've done neither but I've seen the magic you crazy kids can do.)

Or, if I was going to cover more ground,  I could be a reoccurring status update--you'd die as well, unless you're willing to be apart of that casual statistic brave enough to repost. (FOR AT LEAST ONE HOUR!!) Frankly, I'd be fine being a mass text message or even just a chain email that only aunts and grandmas would read and resend--any of those would be good enough.
But I guess they're all just too much to hope for.

Don't cry, Togepi. It will happen when it's meant to.

Whatevski, I always get a little  melodramatic  sentimental before I fly--that explains the post. I should also admit that I sent a facebook message to my little brother, absolving him of some dinnertime sin that got him in big-boy trouble. It was very, "I love you and I'll be watching you from "heaven"," sorts of three line email. Just vague enough to be endearing, with plenty of room to build a good funeral speech upon. I'm surely not the only one that thinks he would look charming in a charcoal grey suit.
Real pity I'm still alive when you look at it that way.
Funerals are like the one freakin event my whole family will be in the same room for.

OMG, the love.

Anyway, I'm back in Paris now--readjusting to my half-assed attempt at adulthood. Wherein, I tried to get up today at 7:30, (when it was still icky and dark outside) to go for a run. But I went to bed at 3 so it proved more difficult than I somehow imagined. I want to be responsible for my actions but I'm pretty sure my shitty sleep patterns are all the fault of Bethesda Studios. They're not just some cute stop on DC's readline, either. Bethesda produces video games such as Oblivion, Fallout 3/New Vegas and also the best game of 2011, Elder Scrolls V, Skyrim.

Skyrim is the most beautiful fake place on earth. I could spend hours there. The only problem is that I actually do. Lesson learned. If I had children, they would sometimes go hungry--not because I can't cook or can't afford to feed them, but simply because they are ultimately less interesting then leveling up my full mage, high elf. Fact is, I went pretty hungry myself, today.  I made my character some bangin' apple cabbage stew, though. Heals for up to 12 hit points!

Give this man a shower and a haircut and watch how hard I wait for a breeze. (Not my character)

We'll be having a party this Friday. Surprise surprise. It's our first themed gig, and also our first party of the new year. We  are calling it D&G which is short for dirty and glam. (eye roll) The boys came up with it.  On a personal level, it's my latest excuse to wear leather and lace, drink vodka redbulls and make other great decisions. But there will be absolutely no Erin photos taken. Which also means I don't have to be afraid to look at them in the morning, so there are benefits.

No matter how'ya slice it, I promise to write to you more since I have the time and the steady internet again.
That's my basic resolution for you and this year. Just for giggles, I thought I'd share a list of my new years resolutions I wrote when I was sixteen--taken from the same journal as my David Duchovny drawings. I apologize with no small amount of earned shame for not being able to spell resolutions,  calendar, marrow, obsession or seriously--let alone remember my own mother's birthday...I was sure it was in a month with M, at least.

I may not have learned how to spell as such, but no one spell-checks quite like me.

And you've got to hand it to me, I stuck to the 'sleep more' bullet. So good job younger me, how about an outro song?