At the Beginning

It's about 1am on Thursday morning, the official start of my European adventure. Richard Marx's At the Beginning is playing on iTunes. After some packing revision, I think I can finally sleep for a few hours. Once the alarm goes off I will jump out of bed, shower, and travel proof my hair for my 15-hour journey across the Atlantic ocean. I plan to arrive in London looking proper and prudent so as to not offend any Brits. I will greet them with the appropriate Napoleon stance as I say "g'day, old chap" (hand at my navel).

I am getting travel anxiety already, what if the plane crashes into the ocean in a fiery ball of flames, and I perish forever? I will never see the people I care about, although I wouldn't mind not seeing the people I care less about. Getting on a plane is always a humbling experience, it makes me think about the things I wished I said to people and the things I wished I accomplished. Surviving a plane ride is like getting a second chance card in life.

So, just in case, because I know I am the type that keep things inside. If I survive, feel free to poke fun at my mushiness, just don't actually poke me because I bruise like a peach. Here it goes:
I am thankful for my friends and family. I think I am extremely lucky to have co-workers who are actually friends as well. I am thankful for the many hours of laughter and delight afforded to me by people who really get me, and you know who you are. I love my family, even my little brother who tried to blame the car alignment problem on me. That's ok, I'm pretty sure I dropped you when you were a baby, probably on purpose a little bit. I don't know if I've ever been in love, I guess if I don't know then I probably haven't. Although, it is quite possible I came quite close to it (EGK), and it's been such a long time that I have no idea what that's all about. Hmm, not sure what else to say now. Last words or blog from the grave is a lot like giving an Oscar speech. I'm pretty sure I've left out some major things and people, but they're cuing the music.