Ode to Dawson's Creek (thanks, Rob)

Withering, torrid, tormented soul floating through life just

waiting for the moment

when clarity

will be obtained. Craning neck trying to peek around the next corner knowing that

whatever is next must be better than

what is.

With each step into the future, tears are shed for the past as

whatever is now can never be as good as

what was, and yet

what has not become is

what is

wanted most. Each new discovery is an adventure to be conquered and

with each heartbreak, the end of the

world. Sappy music to cry to as a soundtrack to off balance hormones,

whispers to ignore in a hallway of divas

while trying to master seven subjects in an eight hour day. And still,

what I

wouldn’t give to be fifteen again.

What are you when you're in the bathroom?

European! At least that's what I paid National Geographic $100 to tell me.

Apparently, my DNA results are back and my maternal lineage is from Europe, a part of hapologroup "W". This group makes up 10% of the world's population. I would post more, but I'm late for work. In the meantime, let this graphic representation of my maternal lineage satiate you.