Everything You Need to Know.
Today I clicked on the list of friend’s birthdays on Facebook like I do every day, partly to wish friends and loved ones a great birthday, and partly to be reminded that at some point four years ago I met someone for five minutes and accepted their friend request.
Except that today when I clicked on the list, I discovered that one of the people Facebook wanted me to wish a happy birthday to was actually a friend who is deceased.
My first reaction was to be angry at Facebook – Damn you, Zuckerberg!!! – but then I got to thinking. What would happen to my online existence if my life on this earth ceased to be? The thought was chilling and so I give you…
I hereby leave all of my poorly created and easily guessed passwords as well as the balance of my Paypal account to @slpowell.
My Skype accounts should be erased as should all text messages and “private” online communication. Those I left behind will be happier believing I’ve only ever uttered positive words about them.
The words Twitter and Party should not be included in any of the following places: my obituary, my eulogy, my memorial service program, or my tombstone. Related: There should not be a Twitter hashtag created to commemorate my passing. No #RIPResourcefulMom, no #ResourcefulWake, no #ResourcefulPassing, no #ResourcefulLove.
And under no circumstances should there be a Resourceful Mommy is Dead Twitter Party.
Free iPads to every 50th mourner!
My Twitter account should be suspended, my Facebook page memorialized, and Instagram should just go ahead and take all of my pictures and use them without permission like they were going to anyway.
All phones must be brown bagged at my funeral. If you Instagram my coffin, I will haunt you, and not in a cool Casper way, but rather in a scary Poltergeist come through your laptop screen and get you kind of way.
There will be no live tweeting of my burial.
In order to attend my funeral, you must prove that we’ve met IRL. Conferences count.
Nobody should integrate the consonant blend “tw” into my death. I’m not “Twone Too Soon,” I won’t be “Tworely Missed,” and no one should “Tweet My Untwimely Twassing.”
There will be no Vine videos of dirt being tossed on my coffin.
As for my blog, the five of you who read regularly can feel free to vote on what to do with the contents. @Slpowell has the passwords. Hint: Same as always. Duh.
Addendum: Pennsylvania Dutch funerals involve a lot of food. Eat it, don’t tweet it!
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