Two Funerals and a Cremation or Doves and Death

I don’t want to die.  In fact I rarely think about it, much less talk about it;  

however,  I was reading an essay about embalming, and I started thinking:  How much does a funeral cost and will I have enough dough when I go?

            I Googled “funeral costs” and this is what I discovered at one of the more prestigious death emporiums.  If I start saving now and continue until I turn in my keyboard and lay these weary fingers to rest, I could have the “Elegance” treatment.  On the other hand, I could scale down and go for the economy service, “Harmony” and only have to save for the next ten years.  It’s a tough choice.  I have attempted to live a good life and deserve the best, yet the thrift shop goddess in me screams, be prudent. 

            The Harmony package is really very nice.  I would get basic burial services, embalming, and care and preparation.  Thank goodness, I would hate to go in the ground unprepared.  The Elegance package is the same in this regard, so on that score, they’re even.  The Harmony package offers no visitation, while the Elegance package has two full days for grieving family members to come and shed tears and drip snot on my carefully embalmed and prepared body.  So far Harmony is ahead.

            Harmony offers eight different casket choices, while Elegance only gives me four.  The fact that the Elegance caskets are substantially more expensive is of little consequence to me, I like choices.  Harmony still leads. 

            Now we get to the real meat (is this a bad choice of words?) of the matter.  Harmony offers carnation boutonnieres, but Elegance will pin a rose to the living lapel.    Elegance goes on to give me a DVD tribute.  I always wanted to be memorialized on a DVD after my death.  I wonder if I could make up some jokes and record them before I go just so no one gets too serious.  Still more, Elegance offers me an organist, a soloist, and a professional music ensemble at my service.  I wonder if they would replace the organist with a juggler, the soloist with a mime and the professional music ensemble with Metallica?  (Note to self, look into this.) 

            The thing that sent me soaring off the ledge I had been teetering on between Harmony and Elegance was this:  Dove release.  Wow.  This sounds cool.  I wonder if they use real doves or homing pigeons made up to look like doves?  Well I definitely choose Elegance.  However, I need to go back and just refresh my memory on the prices once more.  Yes, yes, there they are.  Harmony checks in at $6,415 while Elegance is a mere…$23, 354.  Gulp.  Backpedal.  Search frantically on the website.  There it is!  Just have me cremated for $1,888 and bury me in a Starbucks bag.  You can probably get some crows to fly over.  I won’t care, I’ll be dead. 

I wrote this several years ago.  Today, much to my surprise, the cost of Elegance has decreased; however, the soloist, professional music ensemble, and dove release are no longer offered. Harmony is more expensive than before and nothing has been added.  On a positive note, one can be cremated for under 500.00 at many funeral places.  Perhaps there is a burn barrel in the alley?   

                 

Deep Pockets and Dragonflies

A couple months ago I was out thrift-shopping around, and I came across the most excellent little teapot.  It has dragonflies and swirly colors and is, well, whimsical.  I don’t shop at the regular department stores, why would I, there being no money to speak of?  I rarely buy anything new that I can get for 2/3 of the price at a second-hand store.  I found this sensational little pot at a thrift store for 2/3 of the price it most certainly was when it was on the shelf of whatever little specialty shop was selling it first.  During the same trip that I found the teapot, I also found The Sweater of Many Colors.  It is a marvelous sweater and very warm. It has deep pockets and can double as a jacket in the spring and summer in Western Washington which we all know can be harrowing to try to dress for.  So, I was wearing this fantastic piece of knitted wonderful and someone remarked on how great it was.  Of course the next question was, “Where did you get it?” 

Her: “Where did you get it?” 

Me: “Second-hand store.”

Her: Crinkle-nose, frowny-face, “Oh. Well it’s beautiful anyway.” 

Really? I say to you sister, it is beautiful because.  I’m certain it was fabulous when it was brand spanking new, but I can tell you it was most certainly out of my price range, and probably overpriced to boot.  I spent 6 dollars for it.  Did I mention that it’s very warm and has deep pockets and has many wonderful colors woven throughout?  I suppose it would be lovely to be able to shop around at all the big name department stores, but I just don’t have that kind of money, and  since I have never really had that kind of money, I don’t really have a basis for comparison, but  that’s okay by me.  I’ll wager that I enjoy my finds just as much if not more than if I had bought them in a fancy-shmancy store.  Why?  Because it takes effort to shop this way.  I have to work for my finds.  They are frequently hidden away behind the detritus just waiting for a discerning eye to spot them and carry them off.  Most of my wardrobe has been purchased this way, and I am unashamed.  The pieces are of good quality, but I paid half of what they would have cost me elsewhere.  Did someone wear them before me?  Yes.  Do I wash them up before I wear them?  Of course I do.  Do I wear second-hand underpinnings? Of course I don’t. So why the nose crinkle and the frowny face?  I am grinning.  You see, I didn’t have to choose between the sweater and the teapot.  I got to carry them both off with me for less than ten dollars.  Now, if that’s crinkle-nose and frowny-face worthy, I concede.  Meanwhile, I will wrap myself in the many colored sweater and have a lovely cup of tea.  

Thank you Renee for reminding me of this particular bit. 

Double D Dilemmas

Let’s talk bras.  I know you want to.  I am going to guess that all women, regardless of breast size, have an issue with these little buggers, or big buggers depending on how well endowed you are.  A  few days ago, my mom bought new bras.  My mom is 72, and as we all know, the older one gets, the farther south boobs migrate.  Hers have reached a new low. She has become so used to having a bra that has no support, that buying one that does support her feels odd and not right.   I had to help her get the things up where they (sort of) used to belong.  Once we had accomplished this feat, it was apparent that the saleswoman who “helped” her, hadn't really helped her much.  The woman measured her, brought her a few to try on, and then went merrily about her business.  Here’s the thing, the measurements were off.  The reason?  The measurement is taken around the rib cage and over the top of the boobs and then translated to bra size and cup size.  If all women were exactly alike, this would work out beautifully.  The issue is we’re not all alike.  Some of us are 72 and have boobs that sag down to our navel, and a rib cage that measures at 50 inches.  Then there are those like my niece, who’s rib cage measures at about 32, but who has very large breasts, one of which is just a bit larger than the other.  As if it's not hard enough to be a teenage girl. Imagine that in the locker room during PE.  Then there are women like my friend, who’s rib cage measures at about 38 or 40, but who has very small boobs.  How the hell do you find a bra to fit any of these women?  You don’t.  One has to come as close as they can and put up with it.  I have long known that I don’t ever rely on the sales person or their measurements.  I look at the bras, all the bras, choose a few that look as if they might work, and then get busy in the dressing room.  I go in with 6 or ten or whatever, and, if it’s a good day, I might come out with one that fits well enough for me to take it home.  If it’s an extraordinary day, it might even be pretty.  This is something the bra makers have ignored for far too long.  How do you make these ridiculous, necessary pieces of fabric pretty and functional?  As long as the boobs don’t go above a 38 D, all is well.  There is a tremendous selection of pretty bras under that number.  Above that?  Forget about it.  The “big” name brands don’t even bother to display their product on a rack.  They jam them into boxes which the lingerie store then places into drawers, requiring the customer to dig through and untangle and hope that maybe this one will fit.  They usually don’t, and even if they do, wow do we get a plethora of colors to choose from.  White, beige, and black.  That’s it.  That may work for some of us, even I have one of each of those colors (or non-colors), but I also like choices and I like to match my undergarments to whatever it is that I happen to wear that day.  I don’t believe that I am alone.  Just because a woman has 58 F boobs, doesn’t mean that she doesn’t want to wear a pretty bra. The bra manufacturer’s have made the decision for us.  If you are bigger than a 38 D, no pretty bras for you.  I know this, because I am a 38 DD.  Occasionally I can find something that is moderately pretty, but none of them look like the bras I see in "classy lingerie shops."  I have to go to places like "humongous boobs shop here" to find the stupid things, and then I am bombarded with gigantic, wide strapped, steel reinforced tit slings.  They all have patterns naturally, but I’m not sure what the hell the makers are thinking.  It’s a complete crap shoot.  I found one I really, really liked.  It was a pale yellow, with lacy bits, and Fleur-De-Lis' embossed into the fabric.  I happen to be a New Orleans Saints fan, so it appealed to me on a couple of different levels.  Unfortunately, it only went up to size 38 D.  What the hell?  This is "humongous boobs shop here" we’re talking about.  Why the hell doesn’t it come in larger sizes?  Get with the program! Of course some of you will say that I need to shop online.  Here’s the problem with that.  I can’t try them on until I receive them.  Once they come in the mail, it’s another crap shoot whether or not they will fit properly or whether I will end up having to send them back.  Usually it’s the latter.  Here’s the second, and certainly the larger issue.  I can’t afford to buy 10 of these buggers at a time.  Bras are expensive. 40 to 100 dollars a pop.  If I bought ten, well, you do the math.  I can’t do it.  I need to be able to go to the store and try them on and then choose which one of the least ugly and uncomfortable will go home with me.  If I am lucky, I find a brand that works, and then I buy a couple at a time and wear them until they fall off.  Another issue is that if your weight fluctuates at all, your bra size does too.  I was wearing a 42 DD for awhile, then I went down to a 36 DD and now I’m at a 38 DD.  So I have all these sizes lying around.  I don’t dare get rid of any of them because I might need them at some point, and I certainly don’t want to go through the rigmarole that I went through the first time to get them.  It’s a conundrum. How do we solve this problem?  We get vocal until “they” decide to make bras that fit and are pretty and are affordable.  Yes, there are specialty shops, but it irks me to have to pay double the price that some tiny-titted toddler pays, to wear a pretty bra. Am I jealous?  You bet.  Not only that, the pain and suffering endured is unconscionable.  I have been treated as if I am a pariah because I have large breasts that just don’t fit into the latest fashionable titty attire.  One sales woman even rolled her eyes at me.  What the hell?  What happened to female solidarity?  Why should I have to wear a bra that even a nun wouldn’t wear?  I want pretty bras and I want them to fit properly and I want them to be affordable and I don’t want to be treated poorly when I ask for them.  I don’t think that’s too much to ask.  Don’t get me started on plus size clothing…

Grant Me an Audience

The question of the day, and perhaps the month and year, is: Who is your audience?  This is generally not a problem for me.  I have taught writing and constantly harped on my students to identify their audience, otherwise their papers would have no real structure.  So, now I come to this same question in regards to this blog. Who is my audience?  I will attempt to define you darling reader, just to appease the gods of writing.  Do you enjoy a good laugh?  Do you find random topics interesting?  Do you get irritated with daily BS? Are you a lover of snark? Do you enjoy a good turn of phrase?  Do you cry occasionally?  Do you believe that there is more going on in the world than we can possibly keep up with? If you answered yes to any of these questions, then perhaps this blog is for you.  I am not going to attempt to define my audience any further than this.  I had thought about trying to tailor this to women between the ages of 25 and 70, but really?  This is just not doable.  The experience of a 25 year old woman is entirely different than the experience of a 70 year old woman.  Plus, this leaves my mother out, since she is 72, and also my niece, who is just 16.  This just does not work for me. I suppose what I am attempting to convey, is that if I worry overly about who I want to read this, then I will never write and post anything.  If the parameters are too narrow, then there will be no readership.  Too broad?  Same deal.  Good grief, I could certainly get bogged down and never write a word.  I would agree that any student taking a writing course should define their audience, but I am going to pass.  Why?  Because I can.  Here’s my thought. If you check in occasionally and like what you read, check in again from time to time.  If you don’t like what you read, check in from time to time to see if you still don’t like it.  You see, even if we don’t like what someone else writes, it seems we still feel the need to read it and remark on how much we don’t like it.  The same could apply for really enjoying what we read. Of course I hope for the latter, but I’ll take either one.  So, here we go. I hope you enjoy yourselves, and if you don’t, keep coming back and work on that in the mean time.