Wednesday, September 25, 2013

slightly humorous girl?

I just wanted to stop by quickly and let everyone know that I showed my last post "Funny Girl" to the best friend.

Best friend's reaction:

"OMG I'M READING YOUR BLOG AND LAUGHING SO HARD I'M CRYING. You are HILARIOUS. Also -- you inspired me to blog."

I win! Hands down! Funniest girl alive award goes to me! I excitedly tell boyfriend about my success.

Boyfriend's reaction:

 
 
Hmph. Okay. Still not funny. But I'll get there.
 
Also, I have no idea who the person in that picture is, but I'm pretty sure he's Christopher's long lost twin. With a receding hair line. And bigger ears. And less style.
 
Okay, equal style.
 
 




Tuesday, September 24, 2013

funny girl

Today, we get a fun little factoid feature a la Courtney Nicole.

Recently, while reading other blogs (http://notkathy.blogspot.com/ and http://recentlyroached.blogspot.com/), I thought to myself, GOOD LORD IN HEAVEN. These women are funny! And not just lady-funny, but actually funny in a sorta-vulgar-no-boundaries-TMI kind of way! And they still love Jesus!

This sent me on a very strange, very unnecessary inner-self rampage. Why am I not funny? How come they get to be moms and employees and crafty-crafters and DIYers and still have sex with their husbands AND still be funny?! This isn't fair!! I want to be funny, too!!

Spoiler alert: Sometimes I'm whiny, but rarely am I funny on purpose. I just can't do it all.

Take, for instance, two of my favorite people in the world: the bestie and the boyfriend. Bestie thinks I'm funny all. the. time. No really. I'm pretty sure she'd carry me around in her pocket and let me narrate her life, if I was both pocket-sized and carrying the lungs of James Earl Jones. Alas, I have neither of those things.

We've known each other since we were 4, and often like to joke that we were separated at birth. We also secretly believe it, since I once had a student tell me that I'm left handed because I ate my embryonic twin while I was still in the womb.... Anyway. When great things happen to the best friend, I'm all, "Yay! Good for you! You are so beautiful! Life is rainbows!!!" accompanied by a million emoticons and a snapchat of my smiling face. She loves it, I'm sure. But when she has a bad day, I'm the first one to recant whatever crazy thing happened in my life (usually starting with the sentence, "so this shit just happened...."), or a very fitting picture for whatever less-than-appealing situation she has just been in. Usually something along these lines:



Stop judging. We like owls and they make us happy. Moral of the story is that she thinks I'm a hoot. (See what I did there?) When I someday kick the bucket or escape from the nursing home or find myself in a 100+ year-old somewhat-vegetative state of dementia, she is going to look back fondly on us as the funniest ladies aliiiiiive. It's the general foundation of our friendship. It cannot be helped. Perception is reality (and all that stuff), so it doesn't matter if we are the only two people who think we're funny.
 
Which may very well be the case.
 
Her husband and Chris have been friends for years. In fact, while I was off galavanting with her through the hallways of Pre-K, her future husband and my future boyfriend were probably together setting off firecrackers in mailboxes or something.
We all go way back, or whatever the kids call it these days. I even circled boyfriend's "Have a good summer... Stay Cool..." message in my yearbook in 6th grade, and then covered it in ever-so-classy hearts. He had absolutely no idea who I was back then. He was a sexy quarterback and I was the secretary of student council. But that's right folks - I batted my eyelashes, flipped my hair, and *boom* fifteen years later, he is MINE. Dorks unite. There is hope.
 
So why, after all the years of crazy (and I mean LOONEY TOON) exes and horrible first dates and even worse second dates, did best friend and her husband never freaking introduce us?!

The most logical theory: best friend thinks I'm funny. Boyfriend does not.

If you were to ask dear, sweet boyfriend if I am funny, he would probably laugh, give you the crazy eyes, and do a swift, sassy-lady "oh heeeeeeeeyll nah" hand gesture. Boyfriend.does.NOT.think.I.am.funny. (It's okay, pick your jaws up off the floor.) I'm not sure that I've ever made even one joke that he has genuinely laughed at. I usually get a cute, "d'awwww" face, followed by a sweet pat on the head. I feel like Cindy Lou Who when the Grinch sends her off to bed with her cup.

What's even better: when I accidentally say or do something that isn't even meant to be funny, he will sprint across the room at lightning speeds to high five me because he thinks I've finally moved up to what he calls a "Level II" comedic line.

I haven't.

But I got to thinking. No matter how funny I think other bloggers are (and trust me, I get the giggle fits), boyfriend makes me feel certain that their husbands probably do not think they are funny. They probably find blogging weird. And they probably give sympathy laughs at their wive's jokes because they know if they don't, they will have to fake an apology after three awkward days of icy silent treatment. Boyfriend is super "lucky" because I don't believe in the wasp-y silent treatment. (Yes, I made up the word waspy.) I let all that garbage out. Please refer to the earlier "WHY CAN'T I JUST BE FUNNY?!" rant.

It's okay though, because at the end of the day, boyfriend hugs me, tells me he loves me, and says "You are funny. Thanks for being my best friend." Even if he's lying through his teeth, he still wins.

I'm also fairly certain that just before he wifes me up, he will send best friend a thank you letter for NOT introducing us when we were young. God intervened when the time was right.
And I imagine she will probably respond with something along the lines of:





PS. Please trust that I am in the midst of a million step-adventures.  Even as I type this, one is sick, one is on a rebellious-10-year-old-parent-enforced house arrest, and both have taken to very literal slaps to the face when they get mad at each other. *beware the step-meltdown* I'll save that blog for a day that both my funny-girl ego and blood pressure are up to the challenge.