Apparently, I’m Dead–updated.

**An update of really no update…still worth the read.**

Apparently, I’m Dead

Apparently, according to the letter I received from the Los Angeles County Public Guardian, I’m dead. It’s been such a sublime, peaceful, extremely bright day today that I’m starting to question it myself. Though, in Heaven, I wouldn’t be out of smokes. I’ll let you know if I resurrect any time soon in the eyes of the State of California. —Molly Knop

The letter I received wasn’t a fraud as I initially thought. It didn’t ask for any money or social security numbers or anything we’re told not to give out. It was straightforward and clear; it asked how my funeral and burial expenses were to be paid upon my death. My death. The Death of Mary (Ellen!) Knop. After my initial bristling from seeing my name written wrong again, I re-read the letter. Yes, that was me, the only Mary (Ellen, damnit!) Knop in California. I scoured the Internet again for a Mary Knop in California, but as far as I could tell, I was the one, the only, the most…okay, the only Mary Knop in this great state of ours. Even Facebook didn’t have one listed in California and Facebook freakishly knows everything. Okay, I may not have searched very hard but I did dig a little deeper than Facebook. I even checked MySpace, though that one was a little harder to get to because I had to go back in time to 2005.

Continue reading “Apparently, I’m Dead–updated.”

Apparently, I’m Dead

*Small update of no update. Still worth the read…

“Apparently, according to the letter I received today from the Los Angeles County Public Guardian, I’m dead. It’s been such a sublime, peaceful, extremely bright day today that I’m starting to question it myself. Though, in Heaven, I wouldn’t be out of smokes. I’ll let you know if I resurrect anytime soon in the eyes of the State of California.”

Facebook, September 30, 2013

That was my Facebook post on September 30, 2013. The letter I received wasn’t, as I initially thought as anyone would, a fraud. It didn’t ask for any money or social security numbers or anything we’re told not to give out. It was straightforward and clear. It asked how my funeral and burial expenses were to be paid upon my death. My death. The Death of Mary Knop. After my initial bristling from seeing my name wrong again, I read and re-read the letter. Yes, that was me, the only Mary (Ellen, damnit!) Knop in California. I scoured the Internet for a Mary Knop in California again, but as far as I could tell, I was the one, the only, the top, coolest…the only Mary Knop in this great state of ours. Even Facebook didn’t have one listed in California and Facebook’s got everything. Well, I may not have searched very hard but I did dig a little deeper than Facebook. I even checked MySpace, though that one was a little hard to get to because I had to go back in time to 2005.

Continue reading “Apparently, I’m Dead”

Death Isn’t Private and a Promise for a Long Lost Friend

If there ever comes a time where I’m told it’s the end for me, here’s my plan: I’m throwing a huge party and everyone’s invited. Afterwards, while we spike my IV with Diet Coke and vodka, we’re playing the original Trivial Pursuit I’ve memorized by now and Pictionary (I get to win even if I am only drawing sticks). We’ll all be wearing stupid hats and making faces with scotch-tape. Then, I’ll be passing out the lyrics to the horrible show tunes with your names on them in the order you have to do your solo at my wake. During the service, T-shirts, with my huge face silk-screened onto them, will be air-cannoned out to the mourners to the tune of Yakety Sax….or the theme song to WKRP in Cincinnati, a true classic. And there will be an open bar. I hope you all make similar plans.

I don’t want anyone to find out I left without signing their yearbook. I want everyone to have the chance to tell me what they want when they know I can hear it. (Good and bad, though that would be a odd time to tell me I was a jerk, you would still get the chance, weirdo) I found out that my old friend passed on as quietly as one could in this information age and it took me years to find out she was already gone, right around the time my search to reconnect with her really began. I wish so much I could’ve told her how much she meant to me and hopefully made her laugh but it was too late and my dear friend perished bravely, though cruelly and tragically, without so much as a whimper. And again, though late, all of my love is sent to her poor family.

I searched for years for you, Jess, only to find I tried just a little too late. It won’t happen again, I promise. I didn’t get to say it then so: Goodbye, my friend, you’ve always been some of my favorite memories. Your wit and humor and kindness and cynicism were a template for my own life. And your genuine awesomeness is always with me. I wish we could’ve cracked-up together again but maybe I’ll just see you on the other side and embarrass you then. I’ve got more ideas for our radio show. Even if my afterlife might be quite a bit warmer than the beautiful place I’m sure you are, we can maybe Skype or I’m sure I’ll have Facebook down there. Whatever the case is, I won’t let the afterlife get in the way. I’ll start looking for you the moment I reach the gate.