I work on the 19th floor of a 20 story building so I know a few things about riding in elevators. Here’s my top 10 list of things that need to improve.

1. Always let women enter first. It’s the right thing to do and they also ensure that the elevator cables are working. You’d hate to be the first person in on the day the cables break. Yes, it’s chivalrous, but also great for your own personal safety.
2. Do not enter the elevator until everyone has exited. Not sure why this is an issue, but every day I see it happen and there’s that awkward “excuse me” moment.
3. When exiting the elevator…move quickly. If the doors are closing as you are getting out, you are slow AF.
4. Pay attention when entering or exiting. Pry your eyes away from the phone for just a second. You walk faster without a screen in front of you. Also, I have seen people get off on the wrong floor and It’s amusing to see the fear in their eyes when the realize it too late. No, I will not hold the door open for you. Wake up. #Darwin
5. You sneeze or cough while in the elevator, people should have the right to punch you in the arm or at least shove you out on the next floor.
6. 10-foot rule. I don’t need to hold it for you if you are more than 10 feet from the doors. This goes for holding the door while entering or exiting any building. Walk faster. You have arms, you can open the door.
7. If you have to be on the phone, I understand. YET, there is no reason you should be on FaceTime in the elevator. I once saw a girl’s boyfriend get dressed in front of her while having a FaceTime chat. Also, if you are on FaceTime, I will likely look to see what’s going on. You do it too, so don’t start with me.
8. If the elevator stops on your floor and it’s full, do not cram yourself into the elevator. Apologize and wait to hit the button when the doors close. If you are in that elevator, don’t say “cram on in, we have room”. Everyone else will hate you. Don’t be “that guy”.
9. If you are getting off on an early floor, let’s say first third of the building, don’t get on and go all the way to the back. Nothing says “I want to inconvenience everyone around me and slow things down” more than being the first one to get off, but you are all the way in the back of a full elevator.
10. Only fart when you are alone. Farting with others in the elevator is not the best idea. After farting, exit quickly and cover your face so nobody knows who dealt it.

You are welcome. #Tryharder

If I die and someone doesn't say something inappropriate within the first 24 hours, know that I will come back and haunt all of my closest friends. Sure, I expect people weeping uncontrollably at my wake and funeral (I'm Irish, so yes, I will have a wake), but I also want to have moments of rolling laughter. The event of my death should be an open mic night, and I expect to be celebrated and verbally assaulted by those who knew me well. That's not too much to ask, right? I have a few years till it happens (I think?), but just in case, start writing your best jokes. I want great stuff! Not just jokes about my height; you're better than that. Pass the mic to someone else with a better joke and sit down.

It's never too soon.

If you've read anything I have ever offered to the world, you would know I'm pretty emotionally intelligent. I read a room well, and, for the most part, my finger is on the pulse of the moment. At the same time, I have been known to push the envelope for the sake of levity and reaction. I think you need to. You have to break up the moments. Feeling the same way for too long of time is unhealthy. You need to feel something different. You can't stay a numb zombie forever.

Some people cannot deal with awkward silence and have to fill that space with random questions or elongated answers. That's not my issue. I don't like to see people hurt. I have had to deal with some sharp and deep pain in my life, and I'd rather others not have to experience those feelings unless it's absolutely necessary to the healing process. I don't like to see people hurt, and If I can change their emotional direction, you better believe I will try.

I am not someone who carries a lot of sadness. Ask anyone who knows me well; I'm a pretty joyful person. Like anyone else who has ever grieved, I have issues or challenges that bubble up into my psyche. It makes us real. Give us perspective on things. People who have had it easy when it comes to learning about mortality or the battles of life have a hard time connecting with those who have seen the other side. I don't need to fill space in conversations, but I do want to help people get through whatever they are feeling. It's one of the reasons why I write these chapters.

When my older brother Michael passed, I made the decision to speak at his funeral. Nobody asked me to, and my parents were surprised I wanted to address the room. There was no way I would just let a priest, who had never met Michael, speak on his behalf or set the tone for the event. Of all the people in the room, I knew him best. We shared a bedroom, kissed some of the same girls, and our eyes and nose were identical. Also, I knew the best way for us (especially me) to cope was to speak from the heart and, most importantly, crack a few jokes on his behalf. It's harder to cry when you're laughing. Unless you laugh so hard, you cry, and that feeling is amazing.

Before I walked up to the podium, I turned to my sister Kim and said, "Laugh. Just laugh". And she did. The majority of the audience was female, and there was no way I was going to ignore that. I made sure that the crowd knew that the hardest thing for me to do after finding out about his passing was to call, text, and message all the "girlfriends." I wanted to ensure that most of them found out about his passing simultaneously. It was the truth. My brother loved the ladies, and, for the most part, the ladies loved my brother too. There were the stories I had heard and witnessed when he was alive and the stories I had come to learn (and still learning about) years after his passing. It's also why I have not bought a genetic testing kit like 23andMe. I don't want to learn about nieces and nephews I didn't know existed. I'm kidding, sort of.

It's never too soon to laugh about the obvious observations. True life writes the comedy for you. It's real to give those observations a voice. Good or bad.

I have often written about how we all die twice. Once, when our spirit leaves this earth, and second, when the last person who knew us or knew of us passes as well. You live as long as the stories and memories allow. So, at my funeral, I want everything I have ever done to be exposed. The inappropriate comments I have made over the years, the stories my mom doesn't know about, the loves, heartbreaks, and romances, the things I have done to help others, and the moments I was not my best self. Get it all out there. Expose me for who I really am and what I've done so that the story of me, good and bad, lives on in the memories of those who were there. My truths will help to heal others. My embarrassing moments will encourage others to forgive themselves, and my intentions were realized by those who questioned my methods.

You are supposed to celebrate those who have passed. We drink to people who have gone before us and honor them in our own unique ways. If laughter is the best medicine, then let them laugh at me. For me, it's never "too soon" but rather not soon enough. I hope to know how people feel about me before I die, rather than waiting to hear those stories and emotions post-mortem ---when I can't do anything with them because I'm dead. We should all have a wake when we're still alive—a living funeral or maybe even a roast.

#Tryharder to celebrate the people in our lives while they are alive. Share stories while they are still here so they can help to separate fact from fiction so that the legends of us might become the absolute truth.