If I could pick one detail about the circumstances when I die, it would be that I don't want to be afraid when it happens. And being terrified because I'm plunging to the earth in an airplane at 800 mph is out of the question, so that must not happen tomorrow or I will be pissed, people.
If it does happen, please have my epitaph read, "She's Pissed!" That would make me laugh and maybe ease my anger a little after I'm gone. If I'm cremated, have it engraved on the urn.
I'd also like some dog paw prints on there.
I'll be pissed that I was a fat-ass when I died too. (I know I'm supposed to push that out of my mind until after vacation, but I just want it noted.)
I'm leaving in the morning and will be back Saturday night. I may or may not post an entry or two from San Diego if I make it there.