If I get murdered…

Silly

Last night a friend of mine told me that he’d give me a ride home but he’d have to murder me when I got there. It was freezing last night so I figured there were some sacrifices I’d have to make. I took the ride. As I was cruising into my inevitable death, I realized that there were some things that would definitely need explaining if I got murdered, so I wrote my own obituary:

Hi all. My name is Anna Rose Taylor but you may know me as Annie, Abbott Tech Annie, icequeen21@yahoo.com or lxlhunnipiezlxl (on Xanga). First of all, sorry mom that you had to clean my room. You’re probably wondering why there are so many take out containers. Good question. My life is pretty busy and most days I have to decide between either eating or blow-drying my hair. I’m great at multitasking and lived in constant fear of being late (self-diagnosed time anxiety). I lived a simple life… when I was little, I had this colonial woman outfit that I was really attached to. I also loved my baby doll with a Bud Light can taped to it, skirt made out of Justin Bieber pictures, and shirt that says, “Hide yo’ kids, hide yo’ wives”… you’ll find all of this when you go through my closet, so I just want you to be prepared. I was a member of two hit bands, one being “The Lion King Band” where I was backup singer at the age of 5. After a successful family picnic and 5th grade lunchtime run, we broke apart and formed “Annie and the Angels” where I wrote my hit song, “Boogie Time”. While I lived a life of few regrets, my biggest was that I never redeemed the 7 guest passes to my gym that I’ve been hoarding on my account… and that this guy named Eric from Cyprus that I met at Friar Tuck’s never got to take me to Nacional 27 then Miami for a week like he promised before I fell asleep at the bar. I’m also pretty upset that I’ll never know who won Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition (Team Gianna). No one be sad – keep in mind that I chose to die in return for a ride home. I lived a good life… my favorite thing in the world to do was take naps, so I’m probably pretty happy right now. I loved Dance Moms, good beer, hip hop dancing and found men over the age of 70 captivating. My coworkers lived in constant fear of my eating and sleeping habits… as I considered lunchables worthy of an adult lunch and slept for 4 hours at night, worked for 8 then took a 2 hour nap before improv. My life was a marathon, not a race, and my strange sleeping habits proved that. At 13, I taught myself how to sing Ashanti’s “Foolish” in sign language just because I could. My dream in life was to be a Mexican abuela who has the best tamale recipe this would has ever known. The best advice I can give DePaul students can be taken from my old Twitter, in which I write, “the best way to procrastinate from writing a Political Science paper is to read #lilwaynedeeptweets… going on an hour. Best. Thing. Ever.” I lived in constant fear of falling asleep early – the best thoughts and most meaningful chats always happened at 2am. I’m convinced the Pink and I are best friends and that Jennifer Lawrence would be really happy to meet her soul mate (me) one day. In the last days of my life, I figured out how to open a beer bottle with a table, stuck a straw up John Sant’s nose, stood on the corner of North & Wells for a good 8 hours, and cried while watching Glee. I’m sure that I’m now in the afterlife with my invisible dog, stalking Gilda Radner and haunting the shit out of my roommates. Kristen – expect many more centipedes in your room. Oh, and here’s a picture to remember me by…

Image

Let it serve as a warning. Chapped lips happen.

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