Seeing as the shape of the world appears to be changing (all those trains to London, and now we've actually booked our holiday the end of the month to Sharm El-Sheik for a week of diving), it's occured to me that I ought to be practical. That life isn't always a bowl of cherries (Christ was a stupid expression that is. I hate that expression and I just used it myself), and seeing as I'm the one who prefers to be insured up to my eyeballs, it's time to take the bull by the horns and embrace my inner pessimist.

I've bought a Will and Testament kit.

It never hurts to be prepared, after all. It's not like I have a lot of things, it's not like I have to wonder whom to leave the combination to the safe to so that my Millenium Diamond collection can be looked after, but I realized that should things go pear-shaped, it's nice to have all my ducks in a row, even if the only ducks I really own are pottery.

So following the form I have bought, here is my will, in essence:

Last Will and Testament -England, Wales, & Northern Ireland (but it's written in really cool script-y goodness, so just imagine it looks impressive).

This Last Will and Testament is made by me Helen Adelaide (not my real name, but work with me here, people), of Whitney Houston (I struggled to decide what to put here. Of...perpetuity? Of the United States of America, and to the Republic, for which it stands? Of basically sound mind, although some of my mental floorboards are pretty droopy and I could do with a new coat of paint, seeing as the old one still has streaks of the crazy?)

I revoke all previous wills and codicils. I appoint as executors and trustees of my will Angus Stephens (not his real name) of Whitney Houston (seems like since I figured I'd put Whitney Houston as my "of", consistency would be key here. Otherwise it's back to the whole "basically of sound mind" issue, and Christ knows that old arrangement makes me tired).

And then I'm supposed to list another name, but since I don't really know whom I'd appoint, I'm going to leave that one blank of No seriously. I just said I'd have to leave that one blank.

Specific Gifts and Legacies: (the Scottish will says: Specific Gifts and Pecuniary Legacies. I'm infantile, and the word "pecuniary" makes me laugh. It also makes me laugh that it has to be a legacy with financial implications, which probably rules out most of what I own).

I give

Everything to Angus. No really. It all goes to him. What kind of selfish bitch would I be, to be all "I love you honey. I really do. Wanna' spend the rest of my life with you. What's that? Oh, I'm dying? OK then. Let me fuck you emotionally and financially then. Deal with the image of my corpse and then watch as the moving van comes in and removes all of my personal goods and, baby, unless you have a receipt, most of yours. How about them apples?"

So yeah. It all goes to him. There are some specifics I wouldn't mind him passing on-I'd like all of my Tampax Lites to go to Sporty, as she is the only one I know that can actually use them. I buy the rainbow party pack of tampons with an air of wishful thinking, my Tampax Lite collection huddles forlorn in their purple wrappers, their plastic masses yearning to be free. So why waste good fiberglass? Unused tampons to Sporty.

I also have some lovely 1920's art deco jewelry and a vast collection of boho skirts. I'd like to think they would go to someone that would love them, but Angus my dear, if you want to keep them for yourself so that you can wrap yourself in them to sleep and catch my scent, then that's ok with me. Or if you want to keep them just in case someday you decide to eplore being a transvestite, all my love and support, darling.

Just don't look better in them than I do, or I will find a way to come back and haunt you, and not in the funny Blithe Spirit kind of way m'kay?

And since you won't read a lot of my books, probably best to give those away, too. I know that Jen reads almost exactly the same books as I do, so maybe you want to ask her? Then again, the shipping would be high, so you can do what you'd like with my books. Just please send Me Talk Pretty One Day to the great institution in the sky with me, as I'm probably going to be needing a laugh wherever I wind up.

And Angus please take care of the cats, the lovely bitches. I know that it gets on your nerves the way Mumin cries to be let out (and I don't mind passing on the torch as the one that has to remove the mole corpses that Mumin brings as gifts, it's no fun, trust me.) I know that Maggie sleeping in the bathtub gets wearying, and that she's a very "I want you to love on me...no wait....I changed my mind, piss off" kind of cat, but I love them dearly and want you to love them until they die.

Residuary Gift

I give the residue of my estate to

Angus Stephens (and can I just say "Ew!" at the word residue? It's like I blew my nose on my house keys before handing them over.)

but if he/she or (if I have indicated more than one person) any of them fails to survive me by 28 days or if this gift or any part of it fails for any other reason, then I GIVE the residue of my estate or the part of it affected to

Angus' children, Melissa and Jeff (also not their real names). I figure if I've kicked the bucket and he's kicked the bucket, then they should wrap up everything and take it home, especially any money that we have so that they can have a comfortable time in university or in buying a house someday. Hopefully, Angus' ex won't burn anything associated with me.

Funeral Wishes

I wish my body to be

Creamated, after the organs have been donated if it's possible. I want the ashes scattered, too, only I haven't decided where yet, so I'll get back to you.

Other instructions

This part is serious to me. If I am pronounced brain dead, pull the plug. That, to me, is not life. I am not interested in being one giant bed sore "just in case". Brain death in my world is death. Let me go.

I don't want to be buried and I don't want a wake as it's incredibly uncomfortable to me that people would want to view my body. If I've died that body is no longer me. I have left, and am somewhere else.

I want the people that cared about me to gather round and spread my ashes somewhere. And if it's possible, I would like anyone that loved me to write me a letter and have it creamated with me, as when my ashes hit the wind they could get mixed up with the words that they are leaving me, and parts of their love will always be with me then.

Love is in rare supply. The idea that it could come with me gives me hope.

Since I have little doubt that karma will come after me and have me die slowly from a long term illness or disease, I want the following-when I've decided it's time to go, let me go. I wouldn't ask you, my beloved Angus, to help me end it all but I will possibly ask a physician to help me. And when I am dying, I only want Angus and a few friends (who know who you are, and if you don't then I am remiss and I am sorry and I love you) to be there with me. I don't want my family there. Please respect my wishes.

And for the not-serious- dress me comfortably when I go. I live my life in pajamas, so let me wear them forever (the big thick ones, not the boxers, as I hate being chilled and something tells me the road to the new beyond may not be lined with box heaters. Or if it is, I've done something wrong then and my pajamas are the least of my worries.) And although I don't want a wake, you never know what you'll find on the other side so please can you make sure I am wearing lip gloss and eyeliner? I mean, what if the afterlife is stocked with angels that look like John Cusack? I'm going to need an edge, here.

Play the Simple Minds' Don't You Forget About Me and have a drink after the ashes have flown away. I want you all doing tequila shots (with lime not lemon). This, since I love me some tequila and also because I am just a little bit evil and want you all to have a hangover.

And if you could do one thing for me-don't forget that I lived my life the best I knew how to. I fucked up a lot and I am so sorry for that, but if there was ever a life to end a constant recycled existance on, it was this one. If I am an old soul and this was my last round trip ticket to life, then know that every memory that I have will be explored and loved as I go on, that this was the best life I could ever have imagined living.

So thank you.

Signed Helen Adelaide

of Whintey Houston

Occupation Dreamer, despite all the telecom nonsense.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 09:14 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
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