Putting the Fun in Funeral

One moment I was in my heavenly scarlet snuggie, the next, defying the basic laws of physics trying to run up a wet concrete hill in my heels. Time passes like that on sleepy days like this. I huddled under my lemon-yellow duck umbrella (as seen in my profile picture to the left), perfect for a funeral.

I've squirmed through many a grim funeral, and i've come to a few conclusions about needing to liven' thing up around here. Morbid as it may be to dwell on, something must be done. Before I write this I just want to make clear that I mean no offense to anyone, esp. the dearly departed (though they are probably much to busy to be preoccupied with my ramblings). I've lost friends and family like everyone, but I know that death is only the beginning for me and for all Christians. This life is like an elevator ride; despite being so breif it feels like it takes forever due to the painful elevator music and creaking pulleys. I might have to leave my earthly body behind (Goooodbye and good ridance!) but when I finaly arrive into God's Kingdom I'm going to be so indescribably joyful, I will barely remember my previous life. It sounds like a "Puff the Magic Dragon" fairy tale, but its one happily ever after that you can depend on if you are a believer. And thats why funerals should be a celebration, not a pity-party.

First of all, why black? I mean, besides being a slimming color, it looks so...so...black. I can just imagine on the announcements: "Location: StudMuffin Funeral Home. Dress: Costume of your choice except Clown. Those are just creepy." Well, maybe not a themed costume funeral. Maybe a classier version, like everyone has to dress like 1940 Hollywood starlets or in Elizabethian wigs.

My favorite part (if you can say that) about a funeral is when people stand up and share their funny moments and fond memories. Laughter is the best medicine, after all. How fun would it be if everyone would receive a balloon. Then, as the last chorus of "Moves Like Jagger" ended, everyone would release their balloons into the sky. Not exactly environmentally friendly, but sure is memorable.

Oh, and food. There has to be lots of food. Its time to leave the mint-brownies that vague taste of pickles in the trunk. Not just mashed potatoes and jello molds of Elvis's face but non-traditional yummy food, the departed's favorite foods. Pizza, french bread, hamburgers, and more. Desserts are, of course, a must. Pecan pie, gooey butter cake, crepes, and a chocolate fountain.

Music is another biggie. Hymns can be very sweet, but it would be fun to mix it up a bit. After Amazing Grace and a savory medly of contemporary worship, why not spice thing up with Toby Mac? 2NE1? Well, whatever it is it'll have to be pretty loud to be heard over the fireworks that any sane person would demand at their funeral. That or a flash mob.

The stylists at funeral homes should be fired. The pepto-bismol lipstick, the powdered afros; no. It is a crime. How about hiring someone who actually knows what they are doing for a change? Not to mention its never too late to try something daring, even beyond the grave. That tangerine nail polish they never got around to trying? The peach eyeshadow they weren't daring enough to wear? Its never too late for a fashion statement.

Every funeral I've attended its like a florist shop has exploded. Why not take that a step furthur and sprinkle rose petals on the ground? Or instead of a stuffy funeral home they could host funerals in one of the favorite places of the deceased? Alog with picturesq meadows I beleive McDonalds, T.J. Max, and Wall-Mart would be popular funeral spots.

I know one thing that I must have at my funeral: everyone must receive a little bag of Reese's PB Cups as a parting gift to remember me by. But don't plan on getting it anytime soon!

Mystery Sauce,
-Hannah Hoo

How To Cook A (Slightly Dysfunctional) Egg

How To Cook An Egg

(By Expert Chef Hannah Hoo)

1.Realize, at 10:00 p.m., that you are hungry for a coddled egg.

2.Realize you've no idea how to cook a coddled egg. Google "How To Cook A Coddled Egg". (Yay for Google!)

3.Sneak upstairs to the kitchen, turn on the lights. Set a teakettle to boil. Grab a large mug out of the pile of mysterious dishes. (Mysterious Dishes: The mislaid pices of crockery that were abandoned during commute from the dishwasher to the cabinet or vice versa. Mysterious because you don't know if they are clean or not.)

4. Grab freshly-laid egg from under chicken's behind.

5. Wash egg in hot water.

6. Place egg gently in mysterious mug, then pour boiling water into mug until it covers the egg.

7. Wait for 1 minute. Tap foot impatiently. Toast one slice of toast. Spread it with far too much butter.

8. Remember coddled egg. Remove from water, crack the top. Slowly tip over and pour the partially coddled egg onto a random tea dish.

9. Opps. Realize that your egg is not coddled, in fact it is almost raw and jiggling.

10. Decide to fry the partially coddled egg. Search for small frying pan.

11.Fail in your search; the only thing the right size is a small pot.

12. Decide that the pot will do. Put pot onto stove top on medium heat, then slide egg into pot.

13. Season generously with salt, pepper, and some Italian herbs that give the egg a greenish tinge a delicious taste. Top with lid.

14. Grab a random glass of water off the counter (or potted palm, if handy). Pour a little water into the pot. Place glass back exactly where you found it so no one knows you used it.

15. Pot begins to make weird sounds and hissing, like an angry raccoon. Back away in fear.

16. Sizzling has calmed down. Check egg; it should be finished.

17. Slide fried/coddled/boiled egg out of pot with a rice paddle onto your buttered toast (now cold).

18. Take all your dirty dishes and set them in the sink for someone else to do later.

19. Eat egg with great pnash while watching your favorite movie. Enjoy!

WARNING: This is a complicated recipe that should only be performed when a professional is handy (aka Me). Result of recipe may not always be desirable.

Merry Christmas Eve!

_Hannah