Let's Party Like It's 1999...at My Funeral

It’s not weird to plan your own funeral.

Well, maybe it is when you’re in your 20s.

I used to think that I was going to die in my 30s, because I just couldn’t see myself living past 39. Then I read The Secret and learned about the law of attraction, after which I decided that not putting my death sentence out into the Universe would probably be a bit safer for me in the long run. Now, I like to say that no, I am not planning on dying anytime soon.

It’s just that when you go to one or two funerals a year, you begin to think about your own “finale” and how you want to be perceived when that time comes.

I don’t want sad songs, like You Raise Me Up, Amazing Grace, or other things that are, you know, sad. It’s already a sad event – I don’t need kick these people while they’re down. And they will be down. I mean, I’ll be dead. That’s enough to make every person whose life I’ve touched to want to assume the fetal position and then erect a statue in my honour.

I want I’m On A Boat to be playing as people walk into the venue (which will not be a funeral home, P.S. I’m thinking a party room at a movie theatre. Or at a McDonald’s, and then people can have a tour of the back after the funeral). Other songs that will be featured at this memorial will be Since U Been Gone by Kelly Clarkson, Sweet Caroline, Total Eclipse of the Heart, On the Wings of Love, and any song from Glee and Brad Paisley. All songs that mean something to my friends or family and allude to the awesome times they’ve had with me.

There will be a dress code. No black. Bright colours only. Preferably pink.

And balloons! This is a celebration of life. My life. There had better be some kick ass decorations.

My cousin, R, once referred to the wake as the ‘after party’. I thought that was fantastic. It will most definitely be the after party at my funeral, complete with cosmos, martinis, margaritas, wine, and shots. Oh, and a cake, of course. Double chocolate cheesecake, my go-to birthday cake that my Mom always makes for me.

Finally, I would like a comedian (Russell Peters would be great) to make inappropriate death jokes, as I would do. And I would like stories of my hilarious sense of humour and discussions of my beauty.

Shut up, this is my funeral. I can have what I want.