Tuesday, August 2, 2011
It all started with Beetle Juice. I watched it again a couple of weeks ago. I own it and it's a really good movie to pop in if you're just hanging on the couch wishing you were asleep or on an island or at a music festival or zip-lining or on a roller coaster or somewhere that has skee-ball. It's just a good flick that I've loved forever. Then, yesterday, my friend Val gave me Tim Burton in that silly Facebook game where you get a director and then pick a film you love, like and hate and whatnot. (I play those sometimes. I know. I know.) I picked Beetle Juice for love, which stuck the movie firmly in the front of my brain, lodged in the squishy stuff with my grocery list and the things I have to remember to do tomorrow. So, I've been thinking about ghosts and shrunken heads and possessed dinner parties. I've been humming "Day-O."
I can see that I'm also gonna have to tell you about watching Ghost Whisperer, which might be the most embarrassing thing I've ever revealed online. I'm already regretting this blog. So, I always watch something while eating lunch and for the last couple of months it's been Ghost Whisperer. In my defense, I've already watched every good show that is streaming and I do dig on ghosts and spooky stuff. Not that I believe in ghosts, necessarily, but I like the idea of them and I like to be scared. So, in between marveling over Jennifer Love Hewitt's hair (It's always soooo perfect!), I have wondered what it would be like to haunt people after I kick it. I think it could be kind-of fun, especially attending my own funeral. It was a natural progression to begin planning my own funeral down to the music and food, right?
Right. Because, let's face it, you could die tomorrow or in sixty years but everyone goes sometime. Better to be prepared!
And, I am. Oh, yes.
So, I'm veto-ing churches and graveyards right here, right now in my blog, which is a binding document, right? No need for a casket, you can just cremate me and leave me in a movie theater or a food court somewhere. I think the last hurrah should probably be at a bar or a pub so people can get sloppy drunk, dance badly and play drinking games. You know, to honor me. Everyone needs to do a mandatory sake bomb upon entry.
Also, either a band or a D.J. should be rocking out. They've got to play "Dead Man's Party." People should be allowed to step up to a mic decorated with Aerosmith scarves and say what they want about me, as long as it's really nice and makes me seem awesome. If they go on too long, the band should play like at The Oscars and everyone will laugh and forget that I'm dead and stuff. And photos! Please get my most talented artist friends to photoshop the shit out of the most flattering pictures of me they can find and make a slide show like in a movie. Then, people will remember me that way instead of disheveled and not quite awake!
Since the big event will most likely be in Los Angeles, it shouldn't be too hard to find a desperate actor to dress up like Beetlejuice and walk around the party making balloon animals, right? (Just don't hire anyone from that place I used to work because Head Clown is a bitch and she'll be glad I'm dead. Oh, and tip the desperate actor big time! Give him shots!) Someone should order pizza and there should be bowls of M&M's and Swedish Fish and candy corn! Everyone should wear funny hats! People should bring their dogs and dress them in costumes! Beetlejuice should pass around noisemakers! Someone should karaoke! Dead me will think it's all so hilarious!
I'm aware I've freaked you out. But, doesn't that sound like the best funeral ever?! Oh great, now you're all wishing me dead. Good thing I'm not superstitious.
*photo by Pinti1.