Heaven Can Wait

Okay, so this past weekend was a complete emotional rock-bottom for me for various reasons. I apologize GREATLY to anyone who has had to deal with me in the past week or so, especially Monday. Not. A. Good. Time.

Anyway, it was partly fueled by attending two opera performances, Friday and Saturday, which can cause a severe emotional hangover. Beautiful, but maudlin. Sunday I was supposed to attend a memorial fundraiser for a girl who was killed in a hit-and-run. I didn't go, I was too messed up. The weekend was so bad, that one of the things I did was that I wrote out all of the little things that I want my idiot friends to pay attention to when I die. Here's the list, and what is completely maddening is that I have to write a list at all! My God, are people stupid? Apparently, they are.

Rule 1: Dress Code
At any event having to do with me not existing anymore, the dress code is to WEAR BLACK. JesusFuckingChrist, I wore black each and every day for the better part of oh, the five years of college, and so have you. On the forbidden list are; airbrushed clothing, Ed Hardy, porkpie hats, bowling shirts, golf shirts, t shirts, Hawaiian shirts, sundresses, Steampunk-anything, denim, hood-rat hootchie-mama glad-rags, and if anyone dares wear flip-flops, the orders are "social humiliation followed by physical removal from the premises". My God! Women- Wear a black top and skirt, or a modest black dress, the hemline must reach the point where your knee bends in the back, and plain black shoes. That's it. No red pantsuits, no flowery crap. This is SUPPOSED to be a somber occasion, and this is not about you! This is about me! I get to set the rules here! Guys, throw a suit on, like your Dad did at Grandma's funeral. No funny ties, either, and for God's sake, no "retro" outfits. No drag queens/king. Dress as to the gender that you were born. I'm officially stating here that if you can't leave that shit at home, then don't leave the house.

Rule 2: Value
My life wasn't cheap and neither are these events. We're talking the better part of $12K. In contrast, that Sunday fundraiser was held in some ghetto club on the South Side. The money generated at the cash bar was to go to a "reward for information as to the identity of the hit-and-run." Let me tell you this. My brother was killed in the exact same way. A bounty will not help. Sure, we eventually found who hit my brother, and yes, we sued. Here's the thing, a car accident is an accident. The law can only reach so far, justice has a limit. The money gets gobbled up by the lawyers, they spin the wheels of the system, and because you're in the ride, you think you're "doing something" about what had happened. This will drain you emotionally past a point that your tiny little peabrain can't even fathom. No matter what the punishment, it will not resurrect your dead and, in that regard, anything less than that is not enough. That benefit on Sunday, the money should've gone to, you guessed it, her four-year-old son.

Rule 3: Venue
I DON'T want to be honored in an ugly place. My memorial needs to be in a place where some sort of beauty resides, and resides with a silent, still dignity. Turn your GODDAMN CELL PHONE BLACKBERRY PIECE OF CRAP OFF! None of you idiots are that important that you have to have that shit on. Jesus fuck! If you recognize some D-list famous-ish type people there, ignore them, fanboy. Again, this is about me. They are only making an appearance, believe me, they will leave as soon as they can. Also, I'm scheduling this for the afternoon. Incense first thing in the morning makes everyone queasy.

Rule 4: Participation
If you are asked to participate, please consider agreeing to it. I'm one of the designated readers in my family at funeral masses, and it's really not so bad. It's kinda nice, actually. Plus it takes the burden off of my cousin who is always asked to sing. Anyway, be a sport, suck it up for me and do a little something, will ya? And for God's sake, DON'T TRY TO BE FUNNY. There are professionals in the room, don't embarrass yourself. If you are on the "asked" list it is because I TRUST you to do things properly. It's an all-volunteer army, but if you are not asked, then, please, do not volunteer. YOU'RE the one that's going to cock things up.

Let's see, what am I missing... smoking is allowed, but don't drop your cigs on the sidewalk because the schoolkids will scrounge them the next morning and that's just icky. Um, wear black, be somber, say nice things about me, Oh! I know! Don't create one of those poster things for the wake with all of my photos on it. I hate that. Go to Target and get some picture frames and frame the photos. NOTHING DRIVES ME MORE CRAZY THAN FINGERPRINTS ON PHOTOS. I will haunt you! I mean it!