Post One Hundred and Six: My little friend, Bastard.

The mortuary had a visitor today.

I was preparing to dress a little old man and whilst fumbling in a plastic bag for his undies and socks I came across a foreign being. A little gecko had made it through the security doors and cool room and into the peace and tranquility of hotel le death.

I'm guessing he came from the dead guys home, where his loved one had packed his things. I don't know how often lizards hang out in plastic bags but this guy was my most welcome visitor. Maybe he was a family pet, or a spirit in a reptilian body watching over the corpse. Who knows. Anything is possible when death is involved (apart from life?).

Anyway, I named him Bastard. I set him free.

Peace.

Post One Hundred and Something: Dead People - Wholeheartedly Rejecting 2011.

I'm back, reluctantly. I love the mortuary but the Christmas and New Year break did me well. Pity brisbane pissed its sky-pants the whole time causing me to go stir crazy indoors...but it was glorious. Sorry for the blog break!

It's an interesting phenomenon but all morticians agree on the observation...the week before Christmas the fridge gets really quite and then BANG, everyone dies after Santa visits. It's almost as if Santa himself takes the grim reapings along with the cookies and milk. We think that maybe the human spirit kicks in and people on their death bed hang on to so they can spend the day with their families. The hopeful spirit sees the clock pass by Jebus's birthday and then POW, straight in the kisser. I'd say we get a 20% increase, and thats certainly statistically significant from what I can remember from my cloudy uni brain.

So, the last few days I've been trocar savvy. Staff is also at skeleton crew (puntastic!). A few fun moments have been had in between the insanity. One such experierince: I buried a man in an amazing pink one piece jumpsuit today, pretty much made my life complete.

Hope the resolutions have been set and the year has rolled off to a...rolling start?

Peace. x

Post One Hundred and Four: New Year, New Beers.

I'm back, and I survived Christmas. If you're reading this, obviously you did too. Well done y'all.

I have too many sad stories from the funeral home over the break. Taking someone away during a time when every other household in the street is celebrating for Christmas, it really brings home the fact that death doesn't wait for anyone. No siree.

Also, I'm pretty sure Santa died because there is a man in my fridge with a big tummy (although bloated with gas and fluids), a big white beard and white bushy eyebrows. Quite obviously Santa pushed it a little too hard this year.

I'm preparing for New Years now but I have no idea how I'm going to ring the new year in. I really want to spend it with my favorite people but at the moment the world seems a little sideways. New energies, show yourselves already!

2011 is going to be the year of until it kills me. Belie' you me.

Party safe yo. x

Post One Hundred and Three: Boys and Girls.

Generally speaking, when male mourners make funeral arrangements their decisions are based on the availability of funds and the ease and effectiveness of procedures. It's not surprising really, but women focus their decision making on emotional connections and sentimentality.

Women often say things like "We'll select a flower arrangement to match the coffin, to match the dress that Nan/Mum/Hildeberg is wearing...of which was her favourite colour in 1985 and was the colour of the bridesmaids dressing at the wedding....." and so on and so on. I think it's nice that the ladies seem to ride the funeral personalisation band wagon. It makes things all the more interesting, but is it interesting for me just because I'm a woman (and a funeral director at that)?

Death is a non selective process, as in death gets us all at some stage, so we have a pretty good sample for a study on buyers choice patterns. Our 'customers' come from all religions, nationalities, classes and orientations, yet it really does seem as though when it comes to planning funerals the boys rush in and out and the girls stay and play for hours.

Is this the groundbreaking discovery that women are more at ease about and around death than men, or is it that dudes just don't really seem to be excited about flowers and frills? Interesting...

Peace. x

Post One Hundred and Two: A Meeting by Chance.

I had to put this up. Sorry Lindsay. Bad angles?

I ran into Lindsay McDougall last night, or should I say, he walked right past me and then sat right by me. Out of all of the seats in the Brisbane Entertainment Centre, a man who I've only cut and pasted myself alongside in photos thus proceeded to insert himself into my physical reality. (Wow, that sounds really wrong.)

We've chatted a few times on jjj, but to meet and chat was quite a treat. As is he. It's not often you have a conversation with someone about a band you like and they say "Oh, I played guitar with them the other day..." Talent whore I say.

Peace.

Post One Hundred and Two: She is Very Busy and Important.

There really are some awesome people in the world. I recently met one such individual via this very bloggy blogs.

Her name is Sophie Benjamin, a Toowoombite (?) who knows how to use scholarly words in a funny and thought provoking way. For some reason Sophie was inspired to use her talents to write about me and my funerary endevours in her very own zine, 'I am very busy and important.'

I think you should probably check out her website @ http://www.iamverybusyandimportant.net/. It will enrich your life.

Buy her zine (It's 2.50 clams) and read about media moguls, moving to Toowoomba and wolf wisdom. And a four page article about me! Hoorah!

Hello new fellow writer friend! Bravo! Exclamation!!!

Peace.

Post One Hundred and One: A Funny Man.

Swoon. Joel McHale.

Pity he's married and already into the baby making. My life would be greatly enriched by being in his social circle/pants. My emotional wellbeing would increase, thus improving my work as a funeral provider.

Peas.
(And happy weekend...I'm spending my Sunday off watching back to back episodes of The Soup, naturally).