I always think that the very week after I die scientists will pull the Loch Ness monster out of the Loch or whatever, and discover that not only is there a for real, 100% certain, monster in there but that monster has family and monsters are real. That would be annoying...
I also really worry about missing that inevitable House Hunter International scandal. I mean I am pretty sure that show is completely fake but wouldn't it be awesome if those couples weren't couples at all but strung out sex workers being paid with crack or something? And then the media seeks them out like a bloodhound tracking a corpse and discovers them living in down-town slums and all that talk of first world budgets was completely fake and I don't have to be annoyed about being from a third world country.
Also, my mom. She means well but she does those 'this person has died' brochures or orders of service (or morbid death book or whatever) with sad looking pictures of our departed loved ones where she not only embellishes everything, and conveniently changes major aspects of someone's life and character but she also makes so many spelling mistakes. She loves the melodrama. It's hard because I am sure she thinks we'll seem like better people if she adds heaven's metaphorical embroidered cloths to our tapestry but sheesh. I know I am not perfect and I like it that way. I cringe when I picture my death brochure in comic sans saying something mom-like above the worst picture of me in existence via a totally shitty crop job.
I also worry about what she'll speculate about me to put some meat on the bones of my death release...something like...
"Yolande (or as we called her 'Chubby Childless Angel') loved the music of Mariah Carey and we will play her song 'Hero' to commemorate CCA right now. Also she often read from the bible and loved giving entire salaries to the church. She very much loved orphaned children and forced me to bring an entire orphanage to her death bed where she sung her other favourite song 'Barbie Girl' from the Venga boys to them to cheer them up. She always smiled and never had a bad word to say about anyone. I will miss her because she was my best friend and we were extremely close."
I mean I am speculating here but I am pretty sure that's how it will go down. Then she's likely to cremate me and stuff my ashes in a wooden box and keep it in her office next to the photo of my least favourite uncle and that nephew I just can't get along with.
This my friends, above all else including pain and long months of suffering, is why I am afraid of dying. I am afraid that if there is an afterlife my funeral will shame me in front of my new friends and long lost relatives and seriously impact on my after life popularity. I won't be puffing on the spectre of a cigarette in the ghostly mirage-like glimmer of the boys' bathroom with all my cool new friends. I will be alone in the ghost library reading Jane Austen and sobbing audibly into the real world. Maybe those ghost sightings are just the ones who didn't make friends and their long-lost relatives pretended not to know them?
*sigh*
