Post: post. Post.

They say every little girl dreams about her wedding.  And every bride wants her dream wedding.  Well if my wedding day ever comes, mine is all planned out.  But that's a big "if", not an eventuality.

More of an eventuality is your funeral.  Well, your death for sure.  If you die a bitter old hag with no friends, the funeral may not occur.

Let's assume I don't die a bitter old hag with no friends.  Let's just assume I die bitter...

I'm not obsessed with death.  It's not something I enjoy thinking about.  If you think too much about it, you're liable to become religious...  (side note, is that the appropriate use of "liable"?  is this just some hillbilly phrase that really makes no sense?)

What I have spent time pondering, is my funeral.

One conundrum I have:  Is the funeral for me, or for those in attendance?  Should the funeral be planned according to my wishes, or what is most comforting to the "grievers"?  I mean, I'm gone after all.  They're still here; left with the heart wrenching sorrow of knowing they'll never get to see my cynical ass again...

I'm going to operate on the assumption that the funeral is for me.

Aurora, you are the current holder of my life insurance policy, so take note (although I've expressed most of this already).

Request one - The funeral should be open casket.  Regardless of the condition of my body.

Exhibit A:
The funeral for the charred remains of Soviet Cosmonaut, Vladimir Komarov.

I think it helps with closure.  People should at least be given the opportunity to see the body.  If I died in a horrible accident, feel free to warn people before they enter the space.  I do think we are all attracted to the macabre and grotesque and I have no problem with my last act being a grotesque freak show.



Request two - There should be booze and food present at the funeral.

Ideally, there will be rocks glasses, personalized with my name, dates, and perhaps my photo and a Mark Twain quote.  


These will be handed out as you enter the space.  There should be a bartender serving Whiskey (Bourbon, Scotch, and Irish), coffee/espresso, and water.

There should be a grilled cheese sandwich station.





Request three - The bible will not be involved.

I have little to no respect for that book and want it in no way involved.  If spirituality should be needed, Rumi should suffice.

Readings from Twain and Hunter S. Thompson would be nice.




Request four - Open mic.

Anyone who wishes to speak may.  There should be someone running this show that starts things off with an off-colour story to make sure people feel comfortable saying whatever they wish.  The only person they could possibly offend is my mother and a few uncles, and I hope they do.  Though I'd rather my mother not be in attendance assuming she outlives me.  I realize this could prove uncomfortable and difficult, so I won't insist she be forced out.  I will insist she has nothing to do with the planning.



Request five - The space.

It should be obvious, I don't want this to happen in a church.  Let's just go ahead and have it inside to avoid weather related problems.  I can't think of a good location at the moment, so for now, I'll leave that up to the responsible parties when I kick off.



Request six - Attire.

I won't say that people shouldn't wear black, as some people just prefer to wear black regardless, but I would like to encourage people to dress...fun?  Not party attire, not business attire.  Not funeral or wedding attire.  That one outfit that you always want to wear, but never seem to have the place?  My funeral is that place.  If that means a little black dress, do it.  If that means that ape costume you got at a really good deal, but just never found the occasion, do it.

As for me?  Well, make sure my hair and makeup are good.  Maybe put a hat on me.  I look good in hats.  Just make sure I look good, and I look like me.  Don't put me in some Amish frilly dress.  And if I am just charred remains...you can definitely still put a hat on that.



Request seven - balloons.

I think this will be...cathartic?  Whatever, I want balloons.  As people are dismissed, they should be handed a balloon, printed with maybe my face?  Or maybe just a few words, "Bye!" or "Thanks!"  or "Poop!".  And then everyone stands together and lets them go.

Is this good for the environment?  No.  But I do my part every day, give me this one time.  And if you can find eco-friendly balloons, then go for it.  But if not, I really don't care.



Request eight - There will be...more...booze

Obviously after the funeral, there will be a great drinking session.  Please take care to make sure everyone gets home safely so that there are no funerals caused by my funeral.




Request nine - Cremation

Obviously I am following no order here.  Make sure I'm cremated.  Where do the ashes go?  Well I have this romantic notion that my heart be cremated separately and given to my...husband?  But really, that just puts too much pressure on a person to not move on, so don't do that (but feel free to write that into a book or movie...)

Back to the ashes....  Well, somebody take a trip somewhere that I haven't made it to yet, and scatter em somewhere.  I don't care.

And now that I think about it, if there is a better use of my body, feel free to do that.  Body farm, etc.  Just make sure I'm not buried.




Request ten - Slideshow!

Yeah!  Goddamn slideshow!  All those damn pictures I take.  Mostly of my travels, but feel free to throw in social pics as well.  Run that through the whole service, might help jog people's memory for stories they want to share.



Request eleven - Music.

I have no ideas here really.  A 21 banjo salute?  I'm not even sure what that entails, but it might be nice during the balloon release.

I'm really perplexed by this, as obviously music should be a big part of this thing.  Maybe I'll start working on a playlist for my funeral.



Well, eleven seems like a good stopping point.  Perhaps I'll add more here.  In the event of internet melt down, it may behoove some of you to print this out.  

Thanks for reading!

9/11 thoughts

So I addressed the "Where were you when" subject on my other blog.  This is not that blog.  This is the blog for sometimes offensive banter.

It makes me angry every time I hear someone say "I missed my bus that morning, God was really looking out for me." or "If I had stayed that extra minute to chat to my boss, it would have been me.  God has a plan for me."

So, that leads to the logical conclusion that the person who caught the wrong bus and ended up at the World Trade Center at the wrong time, or switched flights and ended up on Flight 93, or maybe just checked their watch an extra time before crossing the street in Nebraska which placed them directly in line to be hit by a drunk driver; all of these people God has forsaken right?  God has no plan for them, and really just doesn't give a shit.  Or maybe they were all bad people?

Maybe that's it.  All the people that narrowly escaped death are good people, and will go to cure cancer.  And all the people that died were murderers and rapists.

Wait, that doesn't make sense does it?

Right, and God wasn't specially looking out for you.  But hey, if that forces you to go be a better person and help others, more power to you, but if you choose to believe it's because God was looking out for you, be prepared to also accept that God purposefully knocked off that woman who only changed her flight so that she could spend  the day with her husband on his birthday.

"Who is that away up there in the sky climing like a bird in the morning" Ax Me No Questions asked the father.

"He was singing too happy," replied the father.  "The songs came out of his neck and made him so light the balloons pulled him off his stilts."

"Will he ever come down again back to his own people?"

"Yes, his heart will get heavy when his songs are all gone.  Then he will drop down to his stilts again."

Having a failure day.  Not a day of failing attempts, a day feeling like a failure.  Like the total embodiment of a failure.  Outside perspective would say I'm quite the winner, but outside perspective would take gas station attendants into account for comparison.  These bad moods aren't the kind Chekov was talking about when he said sometimes it's nice to just coddle your bad mood and revel in it.  These are the soul breaching moods.  The moods that send those with suicidal tendencies to the brink.  These are the moods that make me buy plane tickets.

I didn't do that.

I'm working on getting out of these moods when they come.  Self improvement helps, but maybe on a small scale.  I sure as hell am not working on my Statement of Purpose in this mood, that will just remind me that I'm fast approaching 30 years old going back to college with no work experience.  PUSH IT DOWN.  Not healthy right?  Right.

So instead, I went to the grocery store and I bought some things to cook with.  I used my credit card.  I'm not supposed to do that.  But sometimes rules have to be broken, or else necks get broken?  Something gets broken, a dish maybe.  A fingernail at least.

I bought healthy things.  I also bought a box of Kraft Mac n Cheese, because you have to allow some bad with the good.

Well shit.  That may be about the most profound statement today, and it involved Mac n Cheese.

- eavesdropping on convos

"I'm getting ready for the millions coming to us.  I'm working here handling millions for the government in preparation for the millions coming to us.  I know it's coming.  You had a good dream, mama had a good dream a month ago, I had a good dream about a month ago.  It's coming...(pause)...See that was the devil that made the call drop.  You say good things out loud, the devil just wants to shut you down.  You know the devil made the call drop."

A Dating Rant.

Gender Equality, not Gender Reversal.

I suppose I should state here, that the idea of Gender Equality, as far as I'm concerned, does not mean the genders are equal.  It means, they get equal opportunities.  What they do with those opportunities depends on their own and their gender based limitations/skills.

But that's not what this is about.  There is also the idea, that women are equal to men, ie, women should be able to ask a man out, call a man, sleep with a man and not call/return a call.

This is all true.  We are able to do that.  But we shouldn't HAVE to.

There are too many men out there, that have become plain lazy, or just lost the cods to man up!  They wait around like a pathetic high school girl in the 50's.   Hoping the phone will ring.  They've been so scared/scarred by feminists, they're afraid to ask a girl out, make a plan, or state their opinion.

Don't let the girls run you over men!!

Gender Equality, not Gender Reversal.

Dating is awkward, let's split the responsibility!

Movies

Everything Must Go.

Will Farrell's comedic style is perfect for a snarky Dramedy.  This movie, while it takes turns for the depressing, is well worth the price of admission.

Basic Plot:  Man loses job, loses wife, falls off the wagon, lives on his lawn.  Insert some neighbors, you've got a flick.


Cowboys and Aliens.

When I heard about this movie, I was quite frankly disgusted.  However, after watching a preview, I'm sold.  I think it's the perfect vehicle for Harrison Ford to make an old guy action flick.  And I'm interested to see how Daniel Craig pulls off cowboy.


But then, if you don't feel like spending money, I'd recommend just watching Hunter Thompson videos on youtube...

This a wok...or something.   Apparently they were making Paella in it.  Looked like fried rice to me.

Baking your Bits in an Easy-Bake Oven

Sometimes I do fancy things like hire a car to the sauna, maybe get some laser treatment, go for a drive.

Do I think I'm better than you for this?  Honestly; a little, yes.

Pride cometh before the fall.

I fall a lot.

This is one such story.

Last week I went to the sauna.  They were having a special.  Sauna entrance plus a sitz bath for 45$.  I don't know what a sitz bath is, but it sounds like a soaking.  I read the description, it says something about heat up to the navel.  It also says it's good for...sore ovaries, sore testicles, and hemorrhoids (what the hell is the etymology of that word, it took 5 minutes to spell it properly).  But on the list of benefits, the first thing mentioned was "muscular problems".  Well, I had just been told by a doctorly type person that I needed to soak my leg.  So, under the pretenses that this was a soaking situation up to the navel, I signed up even though I have no immediate problems with my testicles...

I go to the locker room and relax in the pool, do the dry cake sauna.  I go sit in some of the other crystal chambers, and then head on to my "bath".  

...

Two women take me upstairs to a room marked, "Sitz Bath #1".  We enter into a small space where I see a leather chair.  They ask me to take my pants off.  Then they pull out this cloak...really, it was a shower curtain.  Like a cross between a shower curtain and a barbers cape.  So I pull that on up to my neck.  When I first saw it, I thought, Sweet!  Water bag!  Because I've had this invention in my head for a while.  I always want to nap in the bathtub, but it's not terribly comfortable and the water gets cold.  My idea is to have a self-heating water type bag, that you put your whole body in and then you can take naps as though you were in the tub!  You can imagine my dismay when I put this thing on and it was open at the bottom.

The chair.

You know those old "toilets".  When we decided we needed to sit to toilet, rather than squat?  So it was just a chair, with a hole, over a pot/bowl.  

I submit these to jog your memory.  I really like the second one:

But in my situation, the chair was much the shape of the first one, but covered in leather, with a leather lid.  And the "pot" was attached to the underside of the chair.  And was full of infrared bulbs.

No water.

No soaking.

Only baking.

One woman turns it on and asks me to wave my hand over it to see if it's too hot.  Still unsure what was going on, I say it's fine.

Both ladies step up to help me with my...shower cloak.  Lifting to make sure my bits can get full exposure to the oven.

I sit down and they hand me a magazine...well they tried.  I asked them how I would read with my hands under the shower cloak.

As they're leaving, I sense my buns starting to burn and asked them just as they were leaving to turn the heat down.

And then I sat there for 30 minutes.  I mean, damn, I paid for it, and a new experience is a new story, and a new reason for me to talk, and I can never have enough of that.

Afterwards one lady came back to help me dress...I was still too stunned to protest.  And then back to the nude bathing area.  I felt...dirty somehow.  Like everyone was looking at me and thinking, "Look at her, she has sore testicles".    I got over it.

I've now looked up what a sitz bath is.  It seems it is meant to be a soaking, but only your bits.  

So if your bits are abotherin' ya, get out yer washtub and set fer a piece.  

Those progressive penguins...

"Female penguins will trade sex for rocks".  Heard that on the radio this morning.  I mean, female humans trade sex for rocks all the time.

But let's look deeper...


After sexing up the male penguin, she steals his rocks.  But this isn't her mate.  This is her boo on the side.  Or is it?  So much for mating for life!!


Learning more, I realized this may be more of a dedicated pimp situation.  It seems that the male is a one penguin man.  But the female, she has to go out and work it to get some rocks.  Now as far as I know, the rocks are used for the nest.  And I seem to remember that the male penguin takes care of the babies, or at least helps a lot.


So maybe what we have here, is a stay at home dad / working mom situation.  Well, "working girl" mom situation.


Pretty progressive those penguins.


Next thing we know, we'll find out they have gay penguins adopting children...