.comment-link {margin-left:.6em;}

Tales of a Post-Grad Nothing

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

Death Becomes Her

I have a phenomenal ability to dream, it's a gift that I have always cherished. Three or four nights a week I have vivid, bright dreams involving colors and every month or so, I have a fantastically long dream that plays out like a film, complete with a full plot, emotions, and a soundtrack. Dreaming is one of the body's ways of burning off stress and in lieu of exercise or a healthy diet, dreaming and pooping are essentially the only ways my body has of ridding itself of the daily toxins I put in.

Last night I had a dream in which Chris and I died in a plane crash on the way back home in August. I didn't see the crash and I didn't feel the crash in the dream, but I heard someone announcing that flights from London to the U.S. were under attack and for some reason I knew that I was bound for certain death. Dying in a plane crash is probably my greatest fear, just alongside dying without ever accomplishing anything good or beneficial to society in my life...the two kind of go hand in hand.

I'm not really sure why I have this totally irrational fear. I've never been in a plane crash. I've never seen a plane crash in real life. I've even met someone who was a plane crash survivor and I consistently read about people who fly, not occassionally, but EVERY SINGLE DAY (Adventure Girl, I have no idea how you do it). I would even go so far as to say that I've never had one crappy flight. But for some reason, once there's the slightest bit of turbulence, I'm gripping the seat in a futile effort to keep the entire vessel from crashing to Earth. God forbid a child come running or even walking softly down the aisle...DON'T YOU SEE, YOU'RE GOING TO THROW THIS PLANE OFF BALANCE THEN I'M GOING TO DIE AND I'VE NEVER ACCOMPLISHED ANYTHING REALLY BENEFICIAL IN MY LIFE AND IT'S GOING TO BE YOUR FAULT YOU EIGHT YEAR OLD ASSHOLE. AND IF I SEE YOU IN HELL OR PURGATORY OR IN THE NEXT LIFE OR WHEREVER I'M BOUND FOR NEXT, I AM GOING TO PUT YOUR SKINNY PALE ASS ON TOP OF MY VERY SHORT 'TO KICK' LIST. TELL YOUR MOTHER (or supportive single parent father, grandparent, or guardian unit) I SAID THAT!

When discussing the whole plane/fiery death/useless life thing with the boyfriend, we got to talking about how we wanted our funerals to be. Now, unlike blood-spattering plane crashes, I can get down to talking about funerals...funerals and divorces are the only times my family every totally gets along with each other and acts completely supportive, you know, like a family should, so funerals are kind of like a really morbid comfort food....mmm...comfort food....like Ben and Jerry's Phish Food ice cream...drooool.

Just for the record, in the off-chance that there is some sort of accident, plane related or not before we get to see the fantastically traffic-riddled likes of our nation's capital again, I want someone to make sure that there's a bunch of trees planted and a huge donation made to Richmond public schools in my name, that there's a Black gospel choir because as far as I'm concerned, a Black gospel choir and Mario Kart for N64 are the closest things this world has to heaven, that there's at least one hearty and happy toast to what I did with my life, and that for God sakes, someone go home and get laid...crap...if the afterlife is drier that this one, I'm in for an eternity of trouble.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home