Death All Around

Lately there has been way too much death around me. First, there was my aunt who passed away only a couple of weeks before I arrived in China in September. Then a security guard killed himself inside the UN, which is a mere two-minute walk away from my apartment (incidentally, a girl that I met at a Stanford alum event who works at the UN said that she remembers the guy as a normal, cheerful guy and didn't suspect a thing).

Today, I attended the funeral of a guy from my company who worked in the department that my development team supported (note to self: try not to watch a horror movie about girl seeing dead people the night before attending a funeral). The man had a massive heart attack at the ripe old age of 38. Although I only met the guy once -- on my gay barhopping adventure -- we did have a brief discussion about gay marriage. He was, in his brother's words, "short, fat, bald, gay and Jewish" and seemed like a really nice person, which is why I dragged my nappy head out of bed at 10 this morning to pay my respect at his funeral. As I sat listening to his siblings' eulogies, I did not shed tears like many others who apparently knew him much better. I did however feel a sense of sadness and regret after I heard about how wonderful, kind, caring, and loving he was. I wish I had known him better. While I scanned the packed room, I also wondered how many people would come to my funeral and what they would say about me if I were to die today from, say, a Chinese food overdose.

Maybe I should take a break from Six Feet Under.