Emma may be out of control, (her own) but I like to think that I am not. Of course, that is a construct that, over which, I have little to no control. She (?) seems to have no control whatsoever. I love that word, when auto-correct is off. But, I digress. Might I find you elsewhere, far away from the evil gods that are disguised as a river in the deepest jungle? My name is cheerful. Oddly appropro.