the road goes ever on

and the two-thousand twelve draws to a close.

I feel so full of profoundness and feelings, and I know trying to convey them in words is futile.
Because I am incapable of writing profoundness. Completely.
I am simply too awkward and cynical for that muchness.
But I hope you are happy this coming year. My only resolution is to be happy.
[change the things I can, accept the things I can't. as Tessa puts it]
So.

Happy 2013.

this is a story of how I died.

this is my ghost speaking.

i'm afraid i have passed away.

on the fourteenth of december, at six thirty ante meridian in the eastern standard timezone while glued to the screen of a small-city theater with this lovely lady,

my heart stopped.

the awesomeness was too much for me.

awesomeness of what, you may ask?

well. there was quite a lot of this:

and this:

and this:

 and most definitely no small amount of this:

May I rest in peace.

post of the dead

Am I dead? 

I must be. There is so much muchness going on that I feel inanimate to the world.
(yes, I used a big word. have I impressed you?)

My life has been all Christmas shopping and choir rehearsal and re-writing my horrendous posts I wrote years ago and boxing like a maniac and singing lessons with Allison and surprise Birthday parties for myself and frantically trying to finish the school semester and bedroom renovation and making fudge and stalking
Benedict Cumberbatch on Pinterest and watching Say Yes To The Dress on YouTube.

I'm also counting down to The Hobbit. Which I am going to in theaters. On opening day. In costume. With {THIS LADAY}.

So I am obviously far too busy to crank out a few paragraphs of worthwhile reading material for you.

Here is a unicorn. My Birthday is on December 8th. Enjoy your day.