Dear Eyjafjallajökull,

A few years ago the Discovery Channel (or History Channel, or Science Channel — my Googlings are varied) aired a special called “Ten Ways the World Will End.”  Despite the misleading title, it was about the likeliest ways we’re all going to die.  It was harrowing.  I watched it with my brother on some lazy Saturday while the parents were out, and I remember our experience was filled with both stunned silence and exclamations like “WHAT!” and “REALLY?!”

You should have seen the things that could happen.  Disasters that you’ve never even heard of, but are apparently the most likely ways.  Like, what the hell is a hypercane?  It’s a compact little hurricane that packs a world-crushing punch.  And seriously, what’s the likelihood of robots with artificial intelligence turning against us?  VERY GOOD — it was number two on the list! This doesn’t really surprise me, because I’ve watched the future-documentary called Battlestar Galactica, and those toasters are only too capable of wiping out 12 worlds, so our one planet doesn’t stand a chance (unless we all flee into the spaceship).

And what, pray tell, is a supervolcano?  I think you can figure that one out.  You probably know some of them, like your cousin and my neighbor, Yellowstone.  Essentially, that thing is just building up more and more rage, and everyone knows it’s a bad idea not to let off some steam here and there, or else you’ll end up like me last Friday night: one beer in and sobbing face-down on a pillow screaming into the phone about how everyone needs to BACK OFF while I try to make it out of college with ALL THIS PRESSURE ON ME.

Is that metaphor too much of a stretch?  Here, have a CGI look:

Despite the sunny optimism of the voice in this video, this is no laughing matter.   When the show aired, it was terrifying for sure.  I think my brother and I spent the rest of the evening tearing out our hair and contemplating the fact that one day we will die and there’s nothing we can do about it — especially when it comes to insane natural disasters.  Although, it became much less terrifying because the number one way we’re all going to die is (spoiler alert) global warming.  And as long as everything else is less likely than that, then at least none of these things will happen in my generation.  Because personally, I plan on having my curtain fall when I save a litter of puppies from a burning building (all of whom will grow up to be firehouse dogs, and a movie will be made about all of us).

All of that is to say: I’m not afraid of you, Eyjafjallajökull, okay.  I respect you too much to be afraid of you.  No, you’re not a supervolcano, but you are a volcano and no one is underestimating you for that.  I know what you’re capable of now.  The whole world knows.  You’re capable of taking out the skies and leaving all of human civilization stranded, just when we thought it was safe to fly again.  You’re reminding us that we are small and we don’t have everything figured out, and we are really, really bad at having contingency plans for things like this.  You’ve stomped your feet and made your point and even started some dirty thunderstorms.  You basically ARE Mordor at this stage.

But I want you to listen very closely to what I’m about to say.

If you even so much as think of spreading any more of that filthy volcanic ash over the great continent of Europe next week, and get my flight to Dublin canceled, you are going to bring forth such a mighty rage as has never been seen.  I will put you so far into the fucking ground that only the ghouls and goblins will hear you puff and pout about it.  So cool your jets, dry your eyes, and get a fucking grip already.

via MSNBC

Love,

Molly

• It doesn’t matter what anyone on God’s green earth thinks of me
• I know I’m good at everything I do
• There is no shame in saying that

Oh I am NOT in the mood for a bumblebee fight!!!

Having an angsty twisted frown get wiped clean off my face by the happy memory of that night a few weeks ago that I played Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon with my parents.  Who knows how that even happened, but it was ha-larious.

Look, I can stomach rejection all right, as long as it’s disguised as something other than COMPLETE AND UTTER rejection.

Thank you for your application for the recently advertised position of Editor.  Having reviewed all applications you were not successful in being called for an interview.

Unfortunately you didn’t make the shortlist for interview and our vacancy has now been filled.

Can’t you just say thanks but no thanks?  No need to tell me how far I DIDN’T make it.

Okay.  That’s out of my system.  Back to the drawing board.

The distance is hard!  Don’t ever let me or anyone else convince you it’s not.  It’s hard and it aches and it sucks because even the very best phone calls hurt that much more when they’re over.