Triumph of a Generation (You're welcome, Noel)

    You all know me.  You know what happened.  For those of you who may have missed some of the salient details, here it is in a nutshell.  Let me start at the beginning:  I killed a bunny.  At the tender age of 4, I was playing with a baby bunny, attempted to show it something a little too forcefully and broke its neck.  I believe much of the following to be a direct result of this action.  I was born and spent my childhood in Alaska.  Following some employment issues (the issue mainly being the absence thereof), my family moved to Michigan.  I cried a lot and pondered escape via 3-wheeler and was ultimately flown out of Kenai (and robbed of my dignity) in a dance costume.  You can’t make this stuff up, folks.  Just you wait; it gets better.  Subsequently, my moving van burned down somewhere in the Dakotas.  As a forewarning of the bipolar luck which was to haunt my coming years, my family received a great deal of insurance money and I got all new stuff.  I went to high school.  I was good at it.  My dad crashed his plane.  He was good at it; everyone lived.  I became a National Merit Scholar and was whored out the University of Florida.  I cried a lot and pondered escape via Buick Century to the University of Michigan.  Escape failure number 2.  I moved to Florida.  I met some amazing people.  If I could create a National Merit Burning Man, I would.  I would also allow selective additional admissions (which makes it sound less like Burning Man than the end of “I am Legend”).  I awoke one morning and decided to never return to said university.  I met and moved in with a boy.  I went to massage school.  I smelled of patchouli and ate tempeh.  We moved to Tallahassee.  The boy did many many drugs and I waited on many many tables and wished I did drugs.  I moved back to Michigan and in with a good friend from high school who was is and always will be one of my favorite people.  Now I live alone over a general store, work a series of nonsensical jobs, and have no idea what to do next.  I read a lot.  I don’t sleep much.  I continue to live my life guided by a vacuum of common sense and a mutual magnetism to the ludicrous.