My Final Wishes

I may be a bit of a drama queen. Okay. That's an understatement. Let's start over.

Hi. My name is Sara, and I am a drama queen.

Case in point: I have a cold, therefore, I have declared (more than once in the last ten minutes) that I am quite possibly dying and I should probably finish my will. (By that I mean, I must remind my friend Erica that it's her job to erase my hard drives should I meet an untimely demise. That kind of thing.)

And since I am clearly dying, I think it is important to make my final wishes known as to what I want done with my corpse. I'm not a fan of coffins, and I am certainly not going to pick out my own. Instead, I want to be cremated.

But I don't want to be cremated just to end up in an old cookie jar on the top shelf of a distant relatives' pantry. No. I want to be cremated and mailed to these people. (If you don't want to click the link, it's to a company that smashes the remains of people and pets into diamonds.)

I think it would be quite awesome for a ring to be made from my ashes, and then handed down from generation to generation. Eventually, I am positive the story would become that the ring was Grandma Sara's, when the reality would be the ring IS Grandma Sara.

[insert evil laugh here]