Instructions for how to Grieve My Death (No, I'm not dying, just read my creepy post)

Hello chums! How goes it? I wore this cute little star studded sweatshirt yesterday since the weather was supposed to be perfect sweatshirt wearing weather. I say supposed to because Utah has INSANE completely unpredictable weather. The day STARTED out nice and cloudy/overcast, and then by around noon it was windy and overcast. Perfect. At least perfect for this sweatshirt clad girl. Then of course by around one in the afternoon it got all sunny and hot. Bleh. BUT, then around 3 it started pouring rain like crazy. DELISH. That only lasted about thirty minutes, though, before it suddenly got all crazy hot and sunny again. Crazy Utah weather. Anyway, today's post will be the last of the "Am I Even Funny? (And Other Concerns)" series. Yippee! Hooray! Dis Boom Ba! Wait...why are we celebrating this? What's wrong with you all? We should be mourning this, seeing as my series of semi biographical hilarious posts are coming to an end! ;) What will I ever write about now? Huh? Huh?? I'm not too worried, actually. I always have weird little rants just waiting to be shared floating around in my head. Well, to get into proper mourning mood lets discuss how I want all of you to mourn me should I happen to die early. Or you know, just in case one of my stranger than butt crack Egypt exercise fantasies that I mentioned last post should come true. I think there are generally speaking three types of funerals that people say they would like to have. The happy funeral, the respectful funeral, and the cry your eyeballs out from the sheer misery of missing the deceased person funeral. I'm sure you can guess which type of funeral I'd like. My dad, though, is the type of person who doesn't want a sad quiet funeral at all. He's the type of guy that wants the happy funeral. He wants there to be loud salsa music playing and lots of food. He wants to place a ban on the color black at his funeral and have everybody dress either in all white or in super loud bright colors. He wants everybody to celebrate his life rather than be sad that he isn't still living it. My mom, on the other hand is the type of person that wants the quiet respectful funeral. She wants nice reverent music, and well spoken spiritual talks. Nothing too theatrical. It does kind of irk her that once a person dies everyone forgets all of their flaws, though, so at her funeral she doesn't want anyone referring to her as being perfect. She wants honesty.

 {H&M: star studded sweatshirt similar; Gap: skinny jeans similar; Go Jane: faux suede booties similar; F21: arrow necklace borrowed from my little sister similar; Chick-fil-a: cow watch}

Me, though? I like the theatrics. I'm a theatrical person. I would want everyone to wear black. Not just because I think it shows proper mourning but because black is slimming and universally looks chic on everyone. I want my funeral attendees looking nothing short of sexy and dapper. I'd want loads of flowers and tons of food afterwards. But mostly I'd want cookies. If there weren't enough cookies at my funeral I'd come back from the dead and haunt whichever misguided person planned the thing. Cookies make people happy and they're just so swasing awesome. When I die I actually do want people to suddenly think I was perfect all along. Mostly, because, um, I am. I kid. I kid. ;) I'd want lots and lots of singing, and if my family could somehow get Yo-Yo Ma to swing by and play the cello that would be totally awesome too. Well, that is assuming he isn't dead by the time I die. He's Asian, though, so he's got strong survival genes he could very well outlive me even though he's got, oh, 57 years on me. And there I go being racist again. Darn it. Was that racist? Yeah, I think it might have been a little racist. I never know. Well, now you all know what my tombstone would say. "Here lies Allexis. Friend, daughter, wife, mother, home girl and little racist. Dis Boom Ba." Also, I think that when I die 80 years from now (Yupp. I plan on living to one hundred and one.) I'd want to die before whoever it is that I end up marrying. Why? Um, because I think I've already proven that I'm not very good at handling loss. Loosing your ultimate loved one would suck. Plus, then I could say that I beat him to the other side, ha! Anyway, that's how I expect you all to mourn me when I die ok? Ok. Now, lets discuss my cow watch, sound good? Good. My little sister had bought herself a Chick-fil-a kids meal right before these pictures were taken. Naturally, when my older sister saw that the toy in my little sisters kids meal was a cow watch she dared me to wear it. I actually kind of like it, though, don't you? There's just something so chic about wearing a cow on your wrist. ;) Oh, and I googled the size of my wrist and it is apparently the size of an average seven year old's wrist. Go figure.

Much Love!