We’ve all heard the stories, often beginning with “Once upon a time” and ending with “happily ever after”, stories that are often a part of every child’s life, including mine. Yet one must not forget the middle, without the middle there is no “Once upon a time” or “happily ever after”, the lessons of the middle are more than just words on paper or a simple child’s fairy tale, they contain lessons that we can all learn from if put into practice in our lives.
Beware the evil queen and her huntsman, she can’t handle the truth and often uses her huntsman to do her evil deeds. She’ll never put others first yet will do whatever it takes to put herself first, on a pedestal she does not deserve. The only bright spot is that at times some of the huntsmen may see the light and despite the cost, despite the danger, their good shines through.
Surround yourself with people who love you, who will protect you, as the seven dwarves surrounded Snow White. Keep in mind we are all different and each of us will bring a different quality to the table. Remember happiness is not measured by where you dwell, the smallest cottage may contain more love and warmth than the grandest castle.
Remember if something is too good to be true, the price in the long run may be too costly, the consequences of making a deal with Rumpelstiltskin is no deal at all.
No matter how badly the wicked stepmother and step-sisters treat us it does not justify our behavior imitating theirs. Treat people how you want to be treated, with kindness and respect (when earned).
At times there may be more than just a pea keeping you awake at night. The choices you make, the consequences you accept, will set you free as long as your choices are made with no what if’s and you let honesty be your biggest motivator. Nothing is ever gained from lying.
Following the Pied Piper blindly can have devastating consequences, there are always two sides to a story and accepting anything at face value without all the facts may lead you away from what you truly love and believe in. Consider the collateral damage; your actions may not just impact you but the ones you love.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
the most cliché thing in life is YOU! :)
Sometimes it’s easy to feel like you’re the only one in the world who’s struggling, who’s frustrated, or unsatisfied, or barely getting by. But that feeling is a lie. And if you just hold on and find the courage and patience to face it all for another day, then in God’s time, not yours, someone or something will find you and make it all okay. Because we all need a little help sometimes and that’s a fact. Someone to help us hear the music in our world. Someone to remind us that it won’t always be this way, that it won’t always be dark cloudy skies, the sun will shine too after the rain. That someone is out there patiently waiting and that someone will find you in its own time and purpose.
Life is not easy for any of us. It is a continual challenge and battle of survival and it is up to us to be cheerful and to be strong, so that those who depend on us may draw strength from our example; for the greatest test of courage on earth is to bear defeat without losing your heart. There is always a choice you have to make in everything that you do and you must always keep in mind that the choice you make . . . makes YOU.
Life isn’t a destination, it’s a journey. We all come upon unexpected curves and turning points. Everything that happens to us shapes who we are becoming. And in the adventure of each day, we discover the important things in life and why they are important. We realize that people who come our way have their purpose and that everything happens for a reason.
I believe that we are who we choose to be. Nobody’s going to come and save you, you’ve got to save yourself. You are not a responsibility of others; you are responsible for your own self. Nobody’s going to give you anything; you will work for it and earn the fruit of your labor. You’ve got to go out and fight for it. Nobody knows what you want except for you. And nobody will be as sorry as you are if you don’t get it. You cannot blame others for your failures and frustrations; they are not born in this world to live up to your desires, dreams, and wants in life. Remember always—it’s you who chooses what and where you stand right now. It depends on how you respond with people and situations. Whatever the consequences of your choices, you must be ready to face it all by yourself.
Don’t give up on your dreams. In the end, it’s not the years in our life that counts. It’s the life in our years.
Life is not easy for any of us. It is a continual challenge and battle of survival and it is up to us to be cheerful and to be strong, so that those who depend on us may draw strength from our example; for the greatest test of courage on earth is to bear defeat without losing your heart. There is always a choice you have to make in everything that you do and you must always keep in mind that the choice you make . . . makes YOU.
Life isn’t a destination, it’s a journey. We all come upon unexpected curves and turning points. Everything that happens to us shapes who we are becoming. And in the adventure of each day, we discover the important things in life and why they are important. We realize that people who come our way have their purpose and that everything happens for a reason.
I believe that we are who we choose to be. Nobody’s going to come and save you, you’ve got to save yourself. You are not a responsibility of others; you are responsible for your own self. Nobody’s going to give you anything; you will work for it and earn the fruit of your labor. You’ve got to go out and fight for it. Nobody knows what you want except for you. And nobody will be as sorry as you are if you don’t get it. You cannot blame others for your failures and frustrations; they are not born in this world to live up to your desires, dreams, and wants in life. Remember always—it’s you who chooses what and where you stand right now. It depends on how you respond with people and situations. Whatever the consequences of your choices, you must be ready to face it all by yourself.
Don’t give up on your dreams. In the end, it’s not the years in our life that counts. It’s the life in our years.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Lessons learned in the past 365 days..
There are not many who understand the weight of this article.
For a year, I’ve thought about the changes in my life . . . the ups and downs . . . and the laterals.
It's not rainbows and butterflies; although the constant nearby chocolate doesn’t hurt.
I’m very lucky to say that, after these past 365 days, I still love love.
I believe that love should be expressed every day, especially the days that it is hard to. If it was easy, everyone would do it.
I believe that every day is an opportunity to love hard and to love well . . . to grow with each other and mature separately . . . and today I believe stronger than I ever have that forgiveness and gratitude are the foundations of true love, not newness and variety.
“Even when love isn’t enough . . . somehow it is.” Was this quote written by a poet, a romantic comedy screenwriter, an author of young adult vampire novels? No. It was written by Steven King. Naturally, only a man who has the ability to strike fear in our hearts in the form of ghosts, supernatural beings, and clowns can put love so simply.
This past year, I’ve learned much.
That being frightened of being hurt again does not allow me to hurt others first.
That honesty is the most prized possession and something that cannot be imitated.
That a midnight chocolate soufflé on Valentine’s Day tastes way better than at any other time of the year.
That Shakespeare was way before his time, and I dare a man today to try to replicate his passion.
That words are powerful weapons. But that our actions cut an even deeper wound.
That friends step up to the plate much more than you ever thought possible.
That comfort can be found in chuck taylors, on a blog, in a stranger’s kind words, in a glass of spakling wine under white Christmas lights, in a surprise gift, in a friend teaching you that tofu is not ALL that bad, and in an old man telling you that “you are the funniest person I have ever met in my seventy-three years on this planet.”
That all it takes is a big security deposit to move into new apartment this year.
That romantic comedies never show you the year (or the day) AFTER the couple falls into each other’s arms. I want to see Katherine Heigl and Butler one year later? Okay, Paramount?
That friends will be brutally honest if just given the platform.
That the ultimate goal of each day should be to be the best version of ourselves possible, and that we should not waste time on the people who decide to be less than they are capable of being.
That midnight is a perfectly acceptable bedtime.
That 7 a.m. is an unacceptable time of the morning.
That a horse’s heart is larger than a human’s, in so many ways.
That true love is a choice and both people have to choose it.
That there are too many good people in this world to spend time on the ones that suck.
That the key to love is finding someone able to love your faults as much as you love theirs.
I could go on and on . . . and have over these past twelve months. You get the gist. You’ve gotten the gist. Long story not quite so short, we deserve the same amount we give. And not one iota less. Jot that down. Let that be a lesson to you.
Happy New Year!
For a year, I’ve thought about the changes in my life . . . the ups and downs . . . and the laterals.
It's not rainbows and butterflies; although the constant nearby chocolate doesn’t hurt.
I’m very lucky to say that, after these past 365 days, I still love love.
I believe that love should be expressed every day, especially the days that it is hard to. If it was easy, everyone would do it.
I believe that every day is an opportunity to love hard and to love well . . . to grow with each other and mature separately . . . and today I believe stronger than I ever have that forgiveness and gratitude are the foundations of true love, not newness and variety.
“Even when love isn’t enough . . . somehow it is.” Was this quote written by a poet, a romantic comedy screenwriter, an author of young adult vampire novels? No. It was written by Steven King. Naturally, only a man who has the ability to strike fear in our hearts in the form of ghosts, supernatural beings, and clowns can put love so simply.
This past year, I’ve learned much.
That being frightened of being hurt again does not allow me to hurt others first.
That honesty is the most prized possession and something that cannot be imitated.
That a midnight chocolate soufflé on Valentine’s Day tastes way better than at any other time of the year.
That Shakespeare was way before his time, and I dare a man today to try to replicate his passion.
That words are powerful weapons. But that our actions cut an even deeper wound.
That friends step up to the plate much more than you ever thought possible.
That comfort can be found in chuck taylors, on a blog, in a stranger’s kind words, in a glass of spakling wine under white Christmas lights, in a surprise gift, in a friend teaching you that tofu is not ALL that bad, and in an old man telling you that “you are the funniest person I have ever met in my seventy-three years on this planet.”
That all it takes is a big security deposit to move into new apartment this year.
That romantic comedies never show you the year (or the day) AFTER the couple falls into each other’s arms. I want to see Katherine Heigl and Butler one year later? Okay, Paramount?
That friends will be brutally honest if just given the platform.
That the ultimate goal of each day should be to be the best version of ourselves possible, and that we should not waste time on the people who decide to be less than they are capable of being.
That midnight is a perfectly acceptable bedtime.
That 7 a.m. is an unacceptable time of the morning.
That a horse’s heart is larger than a human’s, in so many ways.
That true love is a choice and both people have to choose it.
That there are too many good people in this world to spend time on the ones that suck.
That the key to love is finding someone able to love your faults as much as you love theirs.
I could go on and on . . . and have over these past twelve months. You get the gist. You’ve gotten the gist. Long story not quite so short, we deserve the same amount we give. And not one iota less. Jot that down. Let that be a lesson to you.
Happy New Year!
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Just Let Go
Letting go is something women are entirely too familiar with. Whether it’s letting go of something we value, something we love, or even something as simple as letting go of our past. But not everything is as simple as it seems.
In my case, I am dealing with letting go of my past. This should just be a piece of cake, after all it is the past for a reason, right? I am the happiest now than I think I have ever been; I’m in love (with someone who actually loves me back, may I add), I’m getting along and spending a lot of time with my family, I’ve recently decided that I want to really get back into getting serious with work and start living a different and better kind of life, and have been taking the right steps toward doing so. But, to make a better life for myself requires letting go and getting rid of some extra baggage that I’ve been carrying around for quite some time now. These changes aren’t so simple; in fact over the last few months, they have proven to be quite a task. But I have been trying and that’s what matters most.
I never wanted to be the kind of person who carries her past battles and struggles with her into the present, but that’s not necessarily something you can always avoid. When you have a past such as mine, letting go can be one of the biggest obstacles one might ever face. When you've been hurt in so many different ways over the years, you begin to find it harder to trust, harder to let go. You begin to let your silly emotions and insecurities run away with you, and you find yourself slowly creating a monster in something that is perfectly fine and safe.
Why is it that we as women have such a hard time with this? Why can’t we just let the past be the past and leave it at that? It’s something that I continually ask myself every day. And it’s something that I don’t really think anyone knows the answer to. But something we do have control over is how to manage these emotions and insecurities and how to learn to not let them control our lives. We are strong and can do anything we set our minds too!
First things first, you have to get rid of some of the things in your life that hurt you in the first place. No matter how good some of those things may seem now, you have to remember that they still hurt you and they have no business creeping around in your life anymore. If you let them, you’re just opening yourself up to a whole can of worms that you may not be able to find your way out of. Nip it in the bud before it’s too late! Otherwise, you may just find yourself alone and that’s never a good place to be. So if you can help it, I would say DO SO!
Take control of your life. After all, it is yours! No one else can make it happen for you. Some things seem so tough to get rid of, not because you still really care for them or want them, but because it’s what you’re used to and it’s a part of you because you lived it. But if it’s something that isn’t necessary and something that could potentially harm your future, best thing is to just rid your life of it.
I definitely don’t have all the answers, but what I do know is that all of us good people deserve happiness, and we have to stop being the ones that hurt ourselves. Because most of the time we are the ones who mess things up for ourselves. We have to learn how to take control and JUST LET GO!
In my case, I am dealing with letting go of my past. This should just be a piece of cake, after all it is the past for a reason, right? I am the happiest now than I think I have ever been; I’m in love (with someone who actually loves me back, may I add), I’m getting along and spending a lot of time with my family, I’ve recently decided that I want to really get back into getting serious with work and start living a different and better kind of life, and have been taking the right steps toward doing so. But, to make a better life for myself requires letting go and getting rid of some extra baggage that I’ve been carrying around for quite some time now. These changes aren’t so simple; in fact over the last few months, they have proven to be quite a task. But I have been trying and that’s what matters most.
I never wanted to be the kind of person who carries her past battles and struggles with her into the present, but that’s not necessarily something you can always avoid. When you have a past such as mine, letting go can be one of the biggest obstacles one might ever face. When you've been hurt in so many different ways over the years, you begin to find it harder to trust, harder to let go. You begin to let your silly emotions and insecurities run away with you, and you find yourself slowly creating a monster in something that is perfectly fine and safe.
Why is it that we as women have such a hard time with this? Why can’t we just let the past be the past and leave it at that? It’s something that I continually ask myself every day. And it’s something that I don’t really think anyone knows the answer to. But something we do have control over is how to manage these emotions and insecurities and how to learn to not let them control our lives. We are strong and can do anything we set our minds too!
First things first, you have to get rid of some of the things in your life that hurt you in the first place. No matter how good some of those things may seem now, you have to remember that they still hurt you and they have no business creeping around in your life anymore. If you let them, you’re just opening yourself up to a whole can of worms that you may not be able to find your way out of. Nip it in the bud before it’s too late! Otherwise, you may just find yourself alone and that’s never a good place to be. So if you can help it, I would say DO SO!
Take control of your life. After all, it is yours! No one else can make it happen for you. Some things seem so tough to get rid of, not because you still really care for them or want them, but because it’s what you’re used to and it’s a part of you because you lived it. But if it’s something that isn’t necessary and something that could potentially harm your future, best thing is to just rid your life of it.
I definitely don’t have all the answers, but what I do know is that all of us good people deserve happiness, and we have to stop being the ones that hurt ourselves. Because most of the time we are the ones who mess things up for ourselves. We have to learn how to take control and JUST LET GO!
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
For a friend who shall remain unnamed
Your story.. I hope this captures your true feelings. Enjoy!
I knew he loved someone else, he told me, and it made me mad. He told me I was just jealous. I wasn’t, I was threatened. He didn’t belong to me, but he was mine. Another girl couldn’t have him, that would disrupt my order. He was mine to talk to, mine to laugh with, mine to tease, and vice versa. My possessiveness and constant questions started to wear on him, I could tell, but I didn’t care. He would never, could never, turn his back on me; we’d been friends for too long for him to just forget about me for some new fling.
He was my best friend, my rock. He got me. I loved him, but not like that. I’d tell myself that until I believed it. He started acting weird a few days after he told me, then I was really confused. He was hiding from me, it was so easy for me to tell, for I’d always been able to read him. I felt him pulling away from me, and I became so bitter. Why would he be acting like this? His new girl is taking up his mind, so he has no more room for me. Figures. I bet she is pretty. She probably has a nice laugh, and isn’t as loud as I am. Before he could forget about me, I decided to forget about him. He wouldn’t be able to hurt me that way.
I was so snarky and cold, I was the nastiest person you can imagine. I did anything, said anything to hide my true feelings. I regret the things I did. But at the time, I couldn’t see through my wall of pride. Horrible, green-tinged words flowed off my tongue like turpentine. I told him to his face that I didn’t want him, and left him standing there in the rain. He won’t even look at me. I deserve it, I guess. He doesn’t need me, because he has her. But I need him so badly it colors my every thought. I see him still, every single day. Whenever I see him, I wonder if he’s talking with her.
It’s odd what I’m feeling toward him now. I’ve never had this happen to me before. Even though my soul is dying inside, every time I see him laugh, I smile, because I know he is happy. He isn’t happy with me, and my heart is breaking because of it, but he is happy nonetheless. That is all I can hope for, since I can’t hope to have him. He will walk by me in the halls, and he’ll make eye contact for just the briefest second before going back to whatever he was doing.
I cherish those moments, just like I cherish every memory I have with him. From his dark brown eyes burning with concentration as he runs, to his hands moving around wildly as he would try to tell me a funny story and I would laugh out loud. I don’t deserve those memories because of the way I acted, but I selfishly hold onto them with all I have, just as I hold onto hope that one day, I’ll be able to side-step my pride. Until that day, I’ll be sated with stolen glances at his face and running over every memory in my head like a broken record. He’s not mine anymore, and one day I will accept that, but I will never stop regretting. I won’t regret him, I never could, but I regret everything I said to push him away. I regret every day I lied through my teeth. I regret my jealousy of a girl. Most importantly though, I regret being too blinded by my own hands to realize I was utterly and completely in love with him..
:(
I knew he loved someone else, he told me, and it made me mad. He told me I was just jealous. I wasn’t, I was threatened. He didn’t belong to me, but he was mine. Another girl couldn’t have him, that would disrupt my order. He was mine to talk to, mine to laugh with, mine to tease, and vice versa. My possessiveness and constant questions started to wear on him, I could tell, but I didn’t care. He would never, could never, turn his back on me; we’d been friends for too long for him to just forget about me for some new fling.
He was my best friend, my rock. He got me. I loved him, but not like that. I’d tell myself that until I believed it. He started acting weird a few days after he told me, then I was really confused. He was hiding from me, it was so easy for me to tell, for I’d always been able to read him. I felt him pulling away from me, and I became so bitter. Why would he be acting like this? His new girl is taking up his mind, so he has no more room for me. Figures. I bet she is pretty. She probably has a nice laugh, and isn’t as loud as I am. Before he could forget about me, I decided to forget about him. He wouldn’t be able to hurt me that way.
I was so snarky and cold, I was the nastiest person you can imagine. I did anything, said anything to hide my true feelings. I regret the things I did. But at the time, I couldn’t see through my wall of pride. Horrible, green-tinged words flowed off my tongue like turpentine. I told him to his face that I didn’t want him, and left him standing there in the rain. He won’t even look at me. I deserve it, I guess. He doesn’t need me, because he has her. But I need him so badly it colors my every thought. I see him still, every single day. Whenever I see him, I wonder if he’s talking with her.
It’s odd what I’m feeling toward him now. I’ve never had this happen to me before. Even though my soul is dying inside, every time I see him laugh, I smile, because I know he is happy. He isn’t happy with me, and my heart is breaking because of it, but he is happy nonetheless. That is all I can hope for, since I can’t hope to have him. He will walk by me in the halls, and he’ll make eye contact for just the briefest second before going back to whatever he was doing.
I cherish those moments, just like I cherish every memory I have with him. From his dark brown eyes burning with concentration as he runs, to his hands moving around wildly as he would try to tell me a funny story and I would laugh out loud. I don’t deserve those memories because of the way I acted, but I selfishly hold onto them with all I have, just as I hold onto hope that one day, I’ll be able to side-step my pride. Until that day, I’ll be sated with stolen glances at his face and running over every memory in my head like a broken record. He’s not mine anymore, and one day I will accept that, but I will never stop regretting. I won’t regret him, I never could, but I regret everything I said to push him away. I regret every day I lied through my teeth. I regret my jealousy of a girl. Most importantly though, I regret being too blinded by my own hands to realize I was utterly and completely in love with him..
:(
Death Wish :)
This has been on my mind for weeks. No, there is nothing wrong with me. So the idea of mortality is on my mind. When you have to plan a funeral for a person, there is so much to do in a really short amount of time. So, I’d like to make it easy for my family and friends …
I would like to be cremated. I do not want, no matter how much money I have, to spend ten thousand dollars on a cushioned box. I want someone to go to a Forever 21 Dress for Less and go to the housewares area and find me something that could double as an urn that’s fun, yet subtle. Like don’t put my ashes in a pig cookie jar where the pig nose is a handle to the top of the jar. Have some taste.
Although I want to be cremated, I want to be buried! Period! I don’t want my daughter walking around the house having a laugh about something and then look up and there I am, in a pig cookie jar. So she'd stop laughing, like, “Oh, so, there’s dead Mom. Great.”
I want good music and I want it playing when people are walking in the place so they don’t sit there acting nervous and uncomfortable. Pink, Katy Perry, Lady Gaga, Bruno Mars, U2, Queen, Coldplay ... you know what I like. If you could wedge in Usher's “OMG” that would be great. Crank it up.
Now, during the service they do a thing called a tribute. That’s where someone walks up and talks about how blessed the world is that you were here. I have taken the time to write my own so no one has to say weird things about how I lit up the room and shit like that. So, typically a family member would read this.
My Tribute
So, if someone is reading this, well (long dramatic pause), I am no longer here. I’m not thrilled to be in this position, but it is what it is. Zoe, Skye, and Zach (Skye and Zach are not born yet when as I am writing this..), I love you. Know that you don’t have to be unhappy. Know that there is a whole happy way to live out there waiting for you. Go get it. Rodnel, you are the love of my life. Till death did us part. To my Myk and cousins, thank you for loving me and thank you for all the laughs.
For those people I’ve hurt. Well, sorry. For all the people that I don’t like and that don’t like me. Nothing’s changed. You were a douche bag while I was alive and you remain a douche bag in my death. I will take my complete disgust at the sight of you to my grave. And being that it’s obvious that I am getting to heaven first, because you are sitting there and I’m in this pig cookie jar, the first order of business is to go to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and throw your ass so hard under the bus your head will spin. Just know that every time you slip on some rock, there is someone in heaven laughing their ass off. By the time you get to heaven, the Lord will want no part of you and know what a bullshitter you are.
Also, don’t anyone go being all sad. I am in heaven; I win. The conditions of my life on Earth were so ridiculous that I earned my place in heaven. Heaven is a great place. They say it’s like Vegas. And I know some people in heaven, so don’t be sad. Well, I guess you could be sad for a little while just out of respect, but don’t overdo it.
I have had a life of laughter. I have had a great time. I have been lucky. And please come to my reception afterward. U2 will be playing. (I understand if you can’t pull that one off.) I love all of you guys. Well ... most of you. That’s been my time.
The end.
Now, it will probably be thirty-nine years before someone has to read that, but it’s done. I may tweak some things before then, but for now it would be good enough in a pinch, which death usually is. And I know this is hacky, but in my death, I won’t care about being hacky. I want my headstone to read: “I told you I wasn’t feeling well.”
I think that covers it. Again, it will be a long, long time before this plan will need to be put in to action, but someone needs to make sure this shit happens.
Until then, I will cry a little and laugh a lot ...
One week later …
If by chance, Rodnel (my husband), we have won the lottery or are swimming in money, there is one thing I never did in my life that I could actually implement at the departure party. I would like my ashes sitting on a half moon that will be dramatically lowered from the ceiling while the song “If I Could Turn Back Time” by Cher blasts through the grieving people. I want the half moon to be glittery, bedazzled, and a real show stopper. That way it would be so dramatic that people would say, “Oh my, it’s Mimi’s ashes sitting on the moon in that jar. This is the best funeral I have ever been to.”
Also, and not a big thing if you can’t make it happen, a few days ago I saw a seven- or eight-year-old little boy wearing a T-shirt. It had a photo of a man throwing a gang sign ... then of course the whole RIP and a date. I’d like that. Something people could just throw on and wear to the supermarket. That’s it for now. But I think I’ve really covered the main things. Love you and I think this whole thing is really gonna be a lot of fun! Way, way down the road!
Thanks!
Mimi
I would like to be cremated. I do not want, no matter how much money I have, to spend ten thousand dollars on a cushioned box. I want someone to go to a Forever 21 Dress for Less and go to the housewares area and find me something that could double as an urn that’s fun, yet subtle. Like don’t put my ashes in a pig cookie jar where the pig nose is a handle to the top of the jar. Have some taste.
Although I want to be cremated, I want to be buried! Period! I don’t want my daughter walking around the house having a laugh about something and then look up and there I am, in a pig cookie jar. So she'd stop laughing, like, “Oh, so, there’s dead Mom. Great.”
I want good music and I want it playing when people are walking in the place so they don’t sit there acting nervous and uncomfortable. Pink, Katy Perry, Lady Gaga, Bruno Mars, U2, Queen, Coldplay ... you know what I like. If you could wedge in Usher's “OMG” that would be great. Crank it up.
Now, during the service they do a thing called a tribute. That’s where someone walks up and talks about how blessed the world is that you were here. I have taken the time to write my own so no one has to say weird things about how I lit up the room and shit like that. So, typically a family member would read this.
My Tribute
So, if someone is reading this, well (long dramatic pause), I am no longer here. I’m not thrilled to be in this position, but it is what it is. Zoe, Skye, and Zach (Skye and Zach are not born yet when as I am writing this..), I love you. Know that you don’t have to be unhappy. Know that there is a whole happy way to live out there waiting for you. Go get it. Rodnel, you are the love of my life. Till death did us part. To my Myk and cousins, thank you for loving me and thank you for all the laughs.
For those people I’ve hurt. Well, sorry. For all the people that I don’t like and that don’t like me. Nothing’s changed. You were a douche bag while I was alive and you remain a douche bag in my death. I will take my complete disgust at the sight of you to my grave. And being that it’s obvious that I am getting to heaven first, because you are sitting there and I’m in this pig cookie jar, the first order of business is to go to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and throw your ass so hard under the bus your head will spin. Just know that every time you slip on some rock, there is someone in heaven laughing their ass off. By the time you get to heaven, the Lord will want no part of you and know what a bullshitter you are.
Also, don’t anyone go being all sad. I am in heaven; I win. The conditions of my life on Earth were so ridiculous that I earned my place in heaven. Heaven is a great place. They say it’s like Vegas. And I know some people in heaven, so don’t be sad. Well, I guess you could be sad for a little while just out of respect, but don’t overdo it.
I have had a life of laughter. I have had a great time. I have been lucky. And please come to my reception afterward. U2 will be playing. (I understand if you can’t pull that one off.) I love all of you guys. Well ... most of you. That’s been my time.
The end.
Now, it will probably be thirty-nine years before someone has to read that, but it’s done. I may tweak some things before then, but for now it would be good enough in a pinch, which death usually is. And I know this is hacky, but in my death, I won’t care about being hacky. I want my headstone to read: “I told you I wasn’t feeling well.”
I think that covers it. Again, it will be a long, long time before this plan will need to be put in to action, but someone needs to make sure this shit happens.
Until then, I will cry a little and laugh a lot ...
One week later …
If by chance, Rodnel (my husband), we have won the lottery or are swimming in money, there is one thing I never did in my life that I could actually implement at the departure party. I would like my ashes sitting on a half moon that will be dramatically lowered from the ceiling while the song “If I Could Turn Back Time” by Cher blasts through the grieving people. I want the half moon to be glittery, bedazzled, and a real show stopper. That way it would be so dramatic that people would say, “Oh my, it’s Mimi’s ashes sitting on the moon in that jar. This is the best funeral I have ever been to.”
Also, and not a big thing if you can’t make it happen, a few days ago I saw a seven- or eight-year-old little boy wearing a T-shirt. It had a photo of a man throwing a gang sign ... then of course the whole RIP and a date. I’d like that. Something people could just throw on and wear to the supermarket. That’s it for now. But I think I’ve really covered the main things. Love you and I think this whole thing is really gonna be a lot of fun! Way, way down the road!
Thanks!
Mimi
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