What happens now?

I am wasting time at school. The funeral for the afore-mentioned dead friend is in one hour.

I am worried that I am not dressed mournfully enough. I am not an especially mournful person. I am a person who is addicted to color. I am wearing a hot pink camisole under a black button down. I am going to be wearing purple shoes. Will his family be offended?

A huge cross-section of the people that I know will be at this funeral. It has the semi-nauseating dual purpose of social gathering and peace-making situation. I feel like a shallow asshole for worrying about if I look fat, since I'll be seeing a bazillion people I know from high school. I dread that "you've really let yourself go" look. I never get it, but I still dread it.... Thanks, Unrealistic American Beauty Standards! It never gets old, Itellyouwhat!

At Passover last night, my aunt, Sharon, lit a candle from the Holocaust Museum, and asked us all to send a prayer to loved ones who weren't with us, either in body, or in spirit, and I said a prayer for the dead friend's family, and for my recently deceased cousin's family, too. He has a brother who is 2 years younger than him. How does a family survive grief like that? How can they even face each other? What do they talk about? I have this feeling like they aren't dealing with it especially well. My cousin who lived spent the entire memorial buffet dinner smoking and drinking beer in his undershirt in the parking lot. When I saw him at the service he asked me how I was doing, like it was any old day. Like it was Easter, as opposed to his older brother's funeral.

After the service today, I am sure there will be drinking at a relative's house. I feel weird about drinking to excess to commemorate the death of someone who died from doing drugs to excess. Call me old-fashioned. Seems icky.

Oh well. Time to get tarted up and catch the bus to the funeral. Wish me luck.