Cemeteries and ceremonies.

I love visiting old cemeteries.
I love the peaceful feeling. I love to take photographs of interesting headstones and markers
I feel comfortable and calm in the midst of them.
I like to look at the names and the dates and inscriptions and imagine the people beneath.

But I never go visit my own lost loved ones.
In fact there are a few that I can't even remember which cemetery they belong to.
It isn't that I don't care, it's just that I can't seem to keep it fixed in my mind and that's weird because I remember SO MUCH STUFF. Useless, trivial, obscure stuff.
Maybe I block it out.
Maybe not 'remembering' makes me feel less guilty for not visiting.
I have no explanation.

Anyone else? No, just me then?

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Speaking of cemeteries and such, many of you have been with me here long enough to know how my FINAL WISHES have changed and EVOLVED and how I've even written MY OWN SONG for the memorial.

So once again things have changed and yes, I still want to be cremated and yes, you still have to take a scoop of me with you when you leave, but the majority of my remains I want to be planted with a tree, so I can be the fertilizer. I mean everyone says that shit is the best kind of fertilizer and heaven knows I've been told I'm full of shit enough times in my life that seriously Ima have the best tree EVER and you can SUCK IT. I hope it's a fruit tree because it will have the most fruit, the biggest, juiciest, tastiest fruit ever, many people have said. 
Or it might taste like shit, to which I say HAHAHAHA HAVE ANOTHER BITE, SUCKERS.

ANYWAY. This is what I want: 

If for some reason this can't happen, my second choice is being put into a record (no really, a vinyl record that you play on a record player! YES THIS IS ACTUALLY A THING FOR REALS).

The album I want to be pressed into is, of course, Buckcherry's 15, and specifically the song Crazy Bitch. Alternate choice would be Carol Burnett's sign off song, because that would be appropriate.


So I would like the planting ceremony to be held at dusk, and wherever because why do I care, but I am going to need some hidden fog machines and speakers, because a nice ambiance with ground mist and spooky sounds, whooshes, moans, etc, is sure to freak some people out and make them check the backseats of their cars before they leave and if it's very successful, HAVE NIGHTMARES ABOUT ME. #SCORE!

MAKE THIS HAPPEN FOR ME OR I WILL EFF YOU UP FROM THE AFTERLIFE AND I JOKE YOU NOT, MISSY.

Some stuff and things and so then that happened.

Here's how I know your inspirational cliches don't work - specifically "If you dream it, you can achieve it" because last night I dreamed that I was driving a rainbow van off a cliff but at the same time I was across the canyon watching it happen, and then I walked into a fountain and tried to punch some dude but strangely my arms weren't working and THEN THERE WAS A DRONE OUTSIDE MY BEDROOM WINDOW and it woke me up and wasn't there and also I dreamed I was awake but I wasn't and didn't know for sure until I was trying to talk and say HEY AM I EVEN AWAKE.

Okay "life coach," you tell me how to achieve that.
Also tell me WHY WOULD I EVEN WANT TO. 

I've been writing #FakeInspirationalCrap for years, *I* should be YOUR life coach because mine can actually be applied to real life.

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I've posted about the ghost that lives here (with photographic evidence!) a couple times over the years, but things have been pretty quiet and ghost-free for quite some time. 

So for our eBay business, I keep the inventory in sealed tubs with handle-lock lids.

A few days ago we were looking for a dress in a tub that resides in my "dining" room - a tub that either Becca or I have been through numerous times in the past few months.

Only this time, there was a bottlecap right near the top of the pile.

A bent bottlecap.

A bent beer bottlecap.

A bent Tecate "No Retornable" beer bottlecap.

Like this, only bent a little across the top.

Okay, maybe not weird for many of you, but here's what:

I have been through that dress tub and everything in it, down to the bottom, at least 50 times whenever I am looking for a dress listed at a certain time.
Anything that's been listed has been checked thoroughly, pockets and all, at least 2-3 times.

Also, I do not drink beer.

Also ALSO, I do not buy beer.

Also also ALSO, if I did buy beer, I doubt I would buy Tecate. 

Also also also ALSO, I don't even have a bottle opener.

WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?

How did it get in that sealed tub of clothes?

How did it even get in my house?

Who opened it?

Did someone come in my house and drink a beer and unstack 3 tubs of clothes

just to put their bottlecap in the bottom sealed tub and then restack everything again?

I mean nobody here takes ambien or any sleeping pills that might make us do weird sleep things.

And where is the bottle? There is no bottle. There hasn't been a bottle.

I don't ever have visitors, so no one has come over and brought their own beer.

If it was the ghost, who bought the beer for them? Or can he or she make themselves corporeal long enough to drink a beer? Or are they starting a bottlecap collection?

(HEY WHO ELSE DID THIS WHEN THEY WERE A KID AND NAILED BOTTLECAPS TO A BOARD?)

I tried to get an EVP recorded while asking any ghosts that might've been hanging around but all I got was the standard old "run, get out, I'm going to kill you,"** etc etc blahblahblah so I don't even count that. I mean bitchghost please, I've been in this house over 20 years, you've had your chance.

So that happened.

**#fakenews, no EVP captured at all but I did try.

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I was very recently reminded how lovely and refreshing and wonderful it is to be thought of, to be included, to be remembered, to be invited, even when the inviter knows full well you'll most likely have to decline.

So I want to remind YOU to please not forget your introverts. Don't forget your caregivers. Don't forget about those of us who really do hate to have to say NO all the time because there's just no way to make it happen.
Please keep inviting us. Please let us know you think of us once in awhile. Please be prepared to be okay with us saying no.
We hate having to say it sometimes as much as you hate having to hear it.
But at least we know you care.
And even if we forget to say it, we adore you for the thought.

This has been an Introvert and/or Chronic CareGiver Service Announcement.