Cuddlehands

It's late and I can't really sleep, so I thought I'd take this opportunity to make a few shout-outs. Tomorrow, before I leave and while I'm feeling a bit more enterprising, I will give a report on my weight (total fatty) and skin color, assuming that there is some kind of quantifiable measurement for how little melanin I possess. In the event that such a quantification is unavailable, I will probably make tired metaphors involving snow and/or Sean Patrick Flanery. Then, on the off chance that I actually update this thing for two and a quarter years, I will have a marketable new diet and an explanation for the dinner plate-sized tumor growing out of my back.

Last night was the blowout it was supposed to be, which means that I have no idea what happened and I didn't really say any final goodbyes to anyone. I kind of like the idea of glossing over the fairly standard farewell histrionics, but I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't feel as though something weren't complete. The number one question I've received is are you nervous?/what's on your mind? By sheer repetition I've become convinced that I'm supposed to be well within the grips of a new found profundity, but the truth is somewhat underwhelming. I'd love to well up some tears and tell people that I'll think of them constantly, but, while true, that isn't really my speed. I was going to list all the specific names of everyone I feel as though I'm leaving, but I'd undoubtedly forget someone. So Matt, thank God you're finally going to be free of that restaurant, and John, Alexis was a delightful lady - an absolute lady.

To the four immediate members of the Miller family, I'll stand with Tim on the legitimacy of our relations. I really do consider you a surrogate family. Dysfunctional, with a tortured history of domestic violence and addiction problems, but a loving family nonetheless.

So that's that. When I sat down to write this, I thought there'd be a bit more blubbering, but I'll spare you. I'm going to miss everyone more than they likely realize, and definitely more than I implied. Knowing that I'll eventually return to a bunch of reprobates-turned-productive members of society gives me a warm feeling in the chest region. Although that could be cancer.