So, I think I'm gonna go to Bob's funeral tomorrow. Is that weird? I don't really go to funerals... yet. I'm sure they'll start rolling in soon enough. I remember a funeral I went to back in college where the open casket was right inside the front door of the church -- you basically had to walk up to and then around the body to go inside. I'm pretty sure that was the moment that put me off funerals for good.
And that open casket shit is so fucking creepy. It's like some kind of horror movie -- you're just waiting for the body to sit up and do some Phantom of the Opera face at the crowd. I know some people need to see the person one last time for closure, but I don't know, I think looking at photos and sharing stories is a little more respectful and a little less terrifying. Anywhich, apparently there was a viewing today, so hopefully tomorrow, at the service, things are all sealed up nice and tight, and it's just people talking about what an awesome guy he was.
I also have a really hard time sitting quietly in big spaces without moving, like in churches and lecture halls and shit. I've got my pointy ass-bones poking into the goddamn wooden benches, and I'm not moving, and it's really fucking quiet, and then I can feel my heart beating, which always freaks me out, and there's usually someone sitting right next to me, and I'm all hot and boxed in and shit, and then I start getting sweaty and panicky, and I try to just breathe slowly and deeply, but then I get too fixated on my breathing, and then I get all itchy, and by that time my ass and taint have gone completely numb and my mouth's all dry and I have to take a steamy camel piss and I look up to try to find something to calm me down and boom, I look right at the dead body lying there in the goddamn open casket.
Holy crap, I think I better take a half a Xanax before I go. And I'll sit on the aisle... in the back. And maybe I'll bring a cushion. And a diaper.
Only I could make someone else's funeral all about me.
I am such a dick.