Hooray! The Sharks won last night, so I can blog today. Cheechoo even got another hat trick! But sadly, the game was not televised. Boo.
It's a bad idea, I know, for the girl who watches too many crime dramas and frets over traumatic head injury, but I've been watching the entire Six Feet Under series--I'm up to the last disc in season 3 (hooray for Netflix!). And it's really not so much about death as it is about inter-personal relationships and how different people deal with change. The death thing and the funeral home aspect are more like a back drop. But thinking about death and dying is unavoidable when you watch 3 episodes in a row. You become forced into thinking about the practical issues involved in dying, like cremation, which outfit you want to be buried in, what kind of ceremony you want to have and what kind of music you want involved in said ceremony. Not entirely unlike planning a wedding. And I don;t mean that in the obvious morose and disturbed way, not at all. Just in the practical event planning way. I mean, I picture wanting my funeral to be more like a party than a cry-fest, with finger foods and lots of dipping sauces, good beer from micro-breweries and plenty of comfy places for everyone to sit. Sure, when it comes time to actually plan such an event, I may see things differently. I'd like to think I'll be much, much older by then and have a firmer grasp on the importance of life and be less preoccupied with trying to create memories than with remembering the memories, so chances are I won't necessarily find a party-style funeral to be fitting or appropriate. But still, it's a neat exercise to consider these things, and not at all depressing or weird as you may be compelled to think. Besides, I'll loyally watch any show with any of the guys from Sports Night, even if it makes me think more about death than I'd prefer to. (Except Benson. Screw Benson.)