Use My Machu Picchu Selfie For My Funeral

Dear Margaret,

Hey bestie, you. I know this is kind of a weird letter to write, but have you ever thought about what would happen if you just died suddenly in a flaming car crash? Do you have a will written? Who would get your laptop? Would your parents find all the stepbrother porn you’ve been watching? It’s a lot to think about, and that is why you should keep all of your porn searches incognito.

For me, my biggest concern is what picture they’re going to use at my funeral. There will obviously be a lot of hot, available men at this event, so I need you, Margaret, to use the most arousing picture of me possible. And that is the black-and-white selfie I took in front of Machu Picchu in the spring of ’14. You remember that one, right? My hair’s blowing in the wind, I’ve got my left hand up to my face — I’m brushing away my bangs in the most demure-ass adorable way. I’m looking off into the distance, like I’m Zooey Deschanel and I’ve forgotten where I left my sunflower-print Toms. I’m carrying a goddamn copy of A Moveable Feast.

People will remember me as being literary as fuck, but also down to earth — because I’m in nature. I’m smiling, just a little bit. My eyes are both childlike and also they are sex orbs. Do you know how long it takes to perfect something like that? Fifty tries, and a lifetime of practice. This isn’t…