I have always wanted to be buried at sea. Ever since I found out that my great-grandfather died aboard ship and was consigned to the sea at the Rock of Gibraltar, I've wanted to do the same. Obviously it would be a little tricky to arrange to actually DIE at sea, but I thought I could possibly have a proper sea burial by just ordering it up. Apparently NOT. If you don't want to be cremated first, there are about a hundred hoops to jump through, including all sorts of tremendously expensive permits and an extensive boat trip because they want you FAR out if you're going overboard whole. (Actually, better than a regular sea burial would be a VIKING burial. Being floated out to sea while being set on fire is just a tremendously impressive way to go. But very eleventh century and a little hard on the environment, I think.)
So, I have reluctantly agreed to undergo cremation FIRST. (Although since claustrophobia is my main objection to a regular land burial, it seems a bit cruel to put me in a coffin for cremation, but I figure I won't know the difference. Yes, I realize that logic brings us right back to just having a regular burial ANYWAY, but it's my funeral.) I think after the cremation I would like to hang out in a Sea Reef. Lots of fish to swim by and it actually does something productive for the environment.
Two hundred pages down on the revisions. I am insanely sore from my graceful tumble on Friday night, so the rest of Saturday--it's Saturday afternoon as I write this--will be spent lounging in bed, watching movies and sharing a bottle of pinot noir with the husband while we work our way through the contents of the fridge. Don't worry--we plan to watch a triathlon on Sunday afternoon to make up for it.