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?

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The [se]X-files

The X-files was an important aspect of my middle school and early high school life. Phrases like, "hantavirus", "inoperable tumor" and "well manicured man" were  all mine for the plagiarism! While some girls were eye-banging JTT and Aaron Cartrer, I was praying  David Duchovny would surface as a sex addict. Thanks, God. I always wanted to believe!

The news just keeps getting better.

For the uninitiated the X-files was a show about a brilliant investigator, Fox Mulder with the FBI who used the clout he gained in the violent crimes division to begin investigating cases that were closed or deemed unsolvable.  His motivations were personal as he had witnessed his younger sister be removed from their home by some sinister suited men. Her abduction was treated as a death among family members and no resolution was granted him. Agent Scully was initially partnered with Mulder to report back to their immediate supervisor, bringing her medical background to bear on his whimsical ways and find logical explanations for the cases otherwise deemed unexplainable.
There were the rando monster-of-the-week and then there were plot episodes. The plot arc amounted to either; his sister was traded to a program for testing, or as precious cargo collateral, OR, was some kind of clone which then a bounty hunter would try to kill and a Russian agent (who was sometimes also a clone) would pretend to have information about just before a spaceship or a storage container full of humanoid, vaccinated, corps surfaced somewhere the agents happened to be.  Let's see then uhhhhh, Mulder gets his ass kicked a bunch--totally takes it like a boss and then uh, Scully sees some shit that should really change her mind about the paranormal--but doesn't--even though she's apparently a devote catholic. Plus this other guy who smoked cigarettes might be Mulder's biological father but was clearly just Canadian and Scully's brother was in the Navy and that was important somehow and she also gets cancer. I don't know. I never rewatch those episodes.
The monster of the week ones would probably scare you today. Dude, one guy removes livers with his hands and hibernates for years in a nest of newspaper and bile. Another dude was just a huge tapeworm...There were cockroaches, once. Tons of them.

Most people learned that FEMA was a raw deal in 2005. But back in 1998 Alvin Kurtzweil let me know there was some other shit going on.

Watch the video, friends--watch the video and learn. These were the sort of notions that compelled me to get a Pink Floyd, Mother Should I Trust The Government poster to hang in the room, above the shelf where I stored my tobacco pipes and tobacco pipe paraphernalia.

Plus my obsession grew into the greatest art I was capable of making:

I created this while serving a three day in school suspension for being awesome.

If you can't rationalize your drug use, it's time to give it up.

I want to make love to his haircut.

I believe I copied this image from a TV guide, to the best of my abilities.

I figure it was probably completely normal to dedicate whole pages of your journal to drawings of a man twice your age. I mean, it's not like I could put blink 182 lyrics on every leaf.

Holy crap, I was deep. And apparently couldn't spell the word "wrong" until after freshman year.

Don't worry, I made room for Ben Fold five lyrics too. But the X-files gave me a reason to never do my homework on Sunday night. (Read as, at all.)

Wow, it's like you can almost read my handwriting. 

Before I completely understood sex, I had this fantasy where I would somehow win a contest and get to spend time with David Duchovny. There would be a limo and he would ride along with me and the romantic part was that I would share my headphones so we could listen to the same song.

Exactly like this, but way less hot.

In fact, an early rendition of said fantasy involved me listening to the music and singing/rapping it back to him....I think I was really into the Men in Black sound track at the time. Obviously, I was well adjusted and would clearly lose my virginity before college. Or not.

When you ask yourself why would anybody be an X-file fan, you next need to ask yourself what the acronym for 'Extraterrestrial Biological Entity' is. And why you wouldn't have known what it meant if I simply wrote it, eg--EBE.
You must next ask yourself how many nebulae you can name. If you can't even name the hoursehead nebula, then you would have never been able to impress my father-in-law that one time when a book he was reading randomly opened to an image of it.

Correct, that is the horsehead nebula. You may now marry my son.

I really miss the Thanksgiving  X-files  User's Choice Marathon. It made my family so much more tolerable. Observe, le rage:

Hats off to my little brother, he learned to wash his hands on his own.



And hats off to me, as I  also learned that it's possible to have the kind of romance that doesn't cause someone to breach their work contract. But, it took years of unlearning the X-files to get there. See you when you get there?

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New Years in old haunts

I've been back in the US for a few weeks now and I've seriously neglected not only the blogs I stalk but also you, my curious clicker. I guess I've been pretty busy, catching up and eating well. Sebastien and I have been to DC, Boston, Cape Cod, Mill-E-Walk-Kay and now chilling out in Columbus, Ohio. We skipped southern VT, and put off Toronto Canada, and once again ended up not meeting up with a billion people we meant to. But we had some good times and some great foods. Did I mention the foods? Because I may have come back to America just for the sheer diversity of foods.  Just a little bit.

Australians are fatter than us. Tell all your friends.

Christmas was at my mom's place. It went exceptionally well. Surprisingly so, in fact. I guess it has to do with my youngest sibling being 16 all of a sudden and the fact that Sebastien isn't one to sit on the couch and watch the women work.
I left my camera in a friend's car, on the trip back from Revere beach and it just arrived via le mail, broken. My "big gift" from my mom, an Ipad, was also broken upon unboxing and I'm pretty much fed up with the mail system and electronics altogether. At least I didn't have need or want of an ipad.

Yeah, I'm all set with where this is going.

This trip wasn't about gifts. It has really been about laughing till my sides hurt and seeing more stars in a night then I saw in a year. Boston is always a good time and I loved catching up with my friends from High school there. One of my besties has a new boyfriend and I'm so happy to see where this is going.

 Not only are they adorable together, he  also lent Sebastien and I his copy of Skyrim. We subsequently saw very little of Boston this trip by day but a whole lot of Skyrim by the afternoon, when we awoke. Must obtain copy. Must keep boyfriend of bestie. Anybody who would willingly part with that game is better than any of us deserve. If she breaks up with him, she's getting punched.

Cape Cod is so, so beautiful. The salt air and the sound of the wave crash make me want to mix my metaphors with something that burns going down and comes back up as poetry I only share with the  midnight sky. I have to stop myself from trying to drink the sea's water whenever I stand at her edge. It's an urge I have never been able to explain.  But the ocean is our oldest friend and my closet relative.  It's so nice to be in total darkness walking down a quiet street, testing my blue eyed night vision, sharpening my skills-- such privilege!  I was amazed at how many coyotes and shooting stars I saw. I had forgotten the way there are no yellow lines or sidewalks or need for either on some of my favorite roads. I wish my camera had been there to capture how calm Chatham harbor can be at 3 AM, or that I could better explain the taste of a Cape Codder when no one around you is calling it a vodka, cranberry.
My mom made my absolute favorite dish, scollop casserole. Pronounced:

scal·lop

   [skol-uhp]  Show IPA

noun.

 Not to mention both her signature pineapple upside-down and cheese cakes, respectively.  I visited with all of my brothers and sisters and their kids too.  Everybody is in a much better place than where I last left them. I leave invigorated.  My cousin had the first baby among her siblings and it's so cute seeing her parents get to be grandparents for the first time. I know they're overjoyed. 

This one is actually my mom. She's basically as cute as the kid.

Here in Ohio we've been with Sebastien's family taking a lot hikes.

Yesterday's hike involved a lot of jogging back in the half dark when the park was clearly closed. It's cool, I needed the run and whenever I jog in the wilderness I always feel like Legolas trying to catch up with Hobbits and Orcs. 

But who doesn't, really?
Hey, Hocking hills is hardly New Zealand or Middle Earth, but damn if it ain't the grand canyon of Ohio....I don't know if it is but Sebastien's dad will tell you as much.

We'll be here until the 4th and I'll have one week left in DC to get some paper work done while Sebastien heads back to Paris, ahead of me. I have no idea who I'll stay with for a week in DC but I'm pretty sure I've got credit I can cash in on. I think this is the last year I'll ever give sausages as gifts. Life is just one big dick joke to some of my friends....sort of explains why we're still friends, I think.

En bref, 2011 was a great year for me. I finally made it to Africa and this year I have designs on Asia.       Can't you just see me and Seba backpacking through India? Plus, I sort of plan to move to China someday once my non-existent kids are bigger. We have put in our applications for the Peace Corps so more of Africa I may soon enough see. Bringing it back briefly to Skyrim, if I may-- I realized that I refuse to die without seeing the Northern Lights or vacationing in Bora Bora.

Ok, Bora Bora has no connection to Skyrim whatsoever but it's still pretty dope.

Seba likes to joke that we should go to Tora Bora instead of Bora bora presumably because he's mean.

My only resolutions for the coming year are to look even better naked and spend all my money on excellent clothing, great food and travel.

Well, that's about all I have time for, atm. We're making the Bûche de Noël tonight, I'll link pictures if it comes out cute. I have two great posts coming up thanks to some old drawings and book reviews I found. One involves David Duchovny, the other involves the Snark Squad. Be looking out for those.
Personally, I'll be burning the stub of a white candle for my intentions tonight. I hope the New Year brings you closer to your goals and the ones you love, closer to the self you want to be and the state you want to be in. You're kind of a sucker for waiting until now, but I guess it's not too late.

Check out the Quadrantids meteor shower on January 3rd if the weather is good where you are, or tune in at 1AM to hear it pass! Have a safe New Year's Eve, please.  Taxis rides are always preferable to ambulance bills, so make good choices. Wow, grandma, wow. This is why I'll be settling Catan and eating all Trader Joe everything instead of whooping it up with the young and the restless. Whatever you do tonight, make sure to have fun.
:)

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