You know those fun, themed birthday parties you and your friends used to have when you were growing up? Ballerina themed, princess themed, Hawaii themed, Disney themed, circus themed; OH GOSH THEY WERE SO FUN.
And I’m not going to lie, I STILL LOVE themed parties. When all my friends are planning which club or bar to hit up on their womb-bursting anniversaries, I’m over here papier macheing an iceberg for my Titanic themed birthday.
Which got me thinking: There’s no telling how many more birthdays I’ll have. I’m know I’m young, but this is life, and things happen, and there truly isn’t any way to know. But on my last day on the Earth instead of in it, I think I’d like to have one Hell of a Celebration of Life.
Now most “Celebration of Life’s” I know sound pretty optimistic, but really the same thing goes down as would at any other old funeral: black, sobbing, black, and sobbing.
AGH, how the thought of such an event for me makes me cringe. I do not know how I will die, but I don’t think talking about death is morbid, and I don’t think it’s all too tragic, and well, I’ll be too dead by the time I die to get very emotional about it anyways. It’s the people that are left standing that get the saddest about such things.
Foreseeing this black sobby mess; I say, PLEASE, RELAX; I would rather an actual celebration than a runny mascara fest. I mean, give me some credit; hopefully I’ll have accomplished some cool stuff and it will be more like a Graduation from Life than a Funeral.
And as I said, I know no better way to celebrate than with a themed party, so a themed funeral it will be! Nothing is written in stone yet, but here’s what I’m thinking: LION KING THEME.
Think about it: if anybody dares cry, a “Hakuna Matata” sing-a-long will cheer them right up. I also think “Circle of Life” is a highly appropriate song to play whilst my ashes are blown off a cliff, into the twinkly night’s sky above.
Everyone who owns a cat will be asked to bring it to pay tribute to the great lions and lionesses that I think will be too dangerous to incorporate, and the presence of excess cuteness will be distracting enough to dry any moist eyes. I wouldn’t mind having a giraffe or two as well, if that’s at all possible.
There will be African dancers and a drum circle, and I’ll make everyone hunt for their food. Obviously there will need to be a waterfall where singles at the event can bashfully meet up behind as “Can You Feel The Love Tonight” is tastefully sung in the background. Everyone will be asked to bring their bathing suits for the watering hole, and somehow I’ll create holographic images of my face to appear at random on the water’s surface just to give people a good old fashioned scare when they look at their reflections.
And there will be one rule: You CANNOT wear black. No other specific dress code, but earthy tones are encouraged. Tribal face painting will be provided.
What do you think? I know, I know; it’s all very exciting. However, that doesn’t mean you can start singing “I just caaaaaaan’t wait…” just yet. Not cool. And let’s hope you’ll have plenty of decades to plan that outfit, okay?