So, I am new to this whole blogging thing, and I am aware that my page looks like a carebear just vomitted the Rainbow Brite sprite it ate for dinner all over my page, but I don't know how to fix that.
A little about obituary writing:
Because I am stuck with stacks of dead people's lives cluttering my desk every day, I have an odd obsession with funeral directors. Its a very sad situation when I have to go to a friend's grandmother's funeral, and I am actually kinda excited that I will get to meet a funeral director. They are like rock stars to me. Like my mom will talk about the time when she smoked a cigarette with Dan Fogleberg. I will talk about the time I shared a coffee with the guy who owns a little funeral home and barks at me over the phone about comma placements.
When went to my first mortician's ball, the annual Pennsylvania Funeral Director's Assocaition's dinner at the LeMonte, I wore a black dress and sensible shoes. I like to plan my outfits days in advance, and I was going for a little bit of Winona Ryder's look in Beetlejuice. I really wanted the LaMonte to appear very Adam's family-esque; a bunch of Lurchs stoicially standing around, while morticians did some stiff dancing around the room. I know, I have been told, I am such a weirdo. But, it wasn't that way. The room was filled with a bunch of soccer dads in really good suits and churchy-looking women in pastels. I was so, so disapointed. The only strange thing was when the funeral directors presented an award to their association leader, they hung it around his neck with embalming string. (Don't know what embalming string is? Boys, they tie the end of your penis up with it. Scary.)
(A really interesting article on embalming. I realize its going to be hard to go onto fashion blogging after this. Way to make an entrance, Kate.)
www.timeoutsydney.com.au/aroundtown/embalming.aspxThe best and worst thing about my job is the funeral directors. They are pretty much the funniest people I have ever worked with. Take some of their email addresses (slightly altered so that I do not get fired.)
Mortuarymamma@zoominternet.com,
thebodyman@gmail.com,
morticia@hotmail.comThe body man is my favorite.
Another has a signature stamped on the end of all his emails, "Morticians really DIG their jobs!" Get it.
This is no doubt plagerised from one of the many funeral director online novelty shops, where they sell shirts that read, "Every man is cremated equally" and "Have you hugged your funeral director today." (So maybe this will turn into a fashion blog after all.)
But the novelty items do not stop at shirts. There are cuff links --------> see.
When would they wear these? Halloween? There is also a casket shape wine box for sale. I mean, I guess every occupation has certain presents; like I work for a newspaper, so what would I get, cigarettes and a coffee mug? Teachers get apples and little magnets with a worm chewing its way through a book. So, I guess headstone shaped
cuff links are
appropriate.
I also keep a Hall of Fame folder where I stick copies of all the interesting obits I get. One man loved Budweiser and thought it best to mention this in his last historical mini-biography on earth. You'd be surprised how many men married their widow's sister or to know that most people die right around their birthdays. Joe Islan from the Valley never, ever peed in the shower. That the busy season is winter, and people just don't die as much when the sun is shining, but they really hate to stick around after Christmas. And the big one: No American has died of old age since 1951.
So, this is depressing, right? I feel like my first blog lacked any real focus. I can assure you this will be true for all forthcoming blogs.
But maybe the next ones will have more pictures... Pretty ones...not about any thing dead....Come back, come back.
