passion...schmassion

day 10221: live every day like it's your last...

I don't think of my own mortality too often. It's not that I'm afraid to die. I'm just afraid of how I'm going to die. I've accepted that death is inevitable, and regardless of what I do to try to prolong my existence, sometimes, trying your best is not enough. I want to go quickly and hopefully painlessly, and definitely not accompanied by "ROCK!!" or "SPLAT!!"

(That would just be gross and messy and traumatizing to my climbing buddies. Ew.)

Should I one day go "SPLAT" or else cease to exist prematurely, no matter the cause, my funeral arrangements and wishes should be known. And seeing as how this is not a topic that one discusses with their parents-who-have-sensitive-emotions-at-the-moment, I am blogging my final wishes...

I know. How. Morbid.

I would like my organs to be donated if possible. Except my heart. That stays with me. One day, I will have to find my organ donation card and fill it in. Actually, it's already filled in. I just have to carry it around or send it in, or whatever I'm supposed to do with it.

I would like to be buried and not cremated seeing as how I have a horrible fear of being burnt alive that stems from being a pyro in a former life. Plus, it could be kind of cool if some archeologist dug up my dried up preserved remains 2000 years down the road and tried to imagine what a wierd lifestyle I led that I have one broken toe and a really painful, f.u.'d hip at the moment.

I want to be buried with a CD copy of this blog so that if I do get dug up, they'll know the person behind the body, and not just know the body. Plus, that will save them time from imagining wierd and wonderful things about me that are probably erroneous anyway!

[ed note: HELLO FUTURE ARCHEOLOGIST 2000 YEARS FROM NOW!!! TREAT MY BODY WITH THE RESPECT IT DESERVES. HAVE A DRINK FOR ME!!! SAPPHIRE TONIC EXTRA LIME... if it still exists]

I want to be buried wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Ideally one of the ones that say "J'aime qu'on m'aime" "I'm out of bed, what more do you want?" "I'd rather be skiing" or whatever funky saying shirt that I favour at that moment. I'd like a laminated picture of Toot. S'il vous plait. And a bottle of Bombay Sapphire. That's all. No jewelry except maybe the green rock necklace if it can still be found.

Oh, and no funeral please. I'd rather have a wake... one last party before I go into the wide blue yonder. An honest-to-goodness drinkfest where everyone I know is blissfully drunk and telling funny stories of yours-truly. Tears optional, but a good time mandatory. The alcohol and the food should flow freely, sappy-ass Pachebel Canon music should not be played. Turn up the volume, laugh with and laugh at... that's how I want to go. That's how I want to be remembered...

One more thing. I want to be there. Closed casket optional.