Good Lord, people. With horrible jokes like that, how and why are you even still following this blog?
No! Wait! Don’t go! Not when things are just about to heat up. Time to get serious. Seriously funny.Well, I might cry or something, and there’s probably going to be some really awkward sniffles and entirely too much snot, but after that. All laughs. Peachy shenanigans. Next stop – Joke Central. Toot, toot!
Beep, beep? Ah, hell – whatever sound trains destined for Titter Town make. But first, one short trip to Adver(sity).
I’ll start off by quickly saying that there is absolutely nada funny about adversity. Not to be confused with “diversity,” of which Anchorman’s Ron Burgundy coined as an “old, old wooden ship,” and which is funny.
Still with me? If so, I hope you’re listening because this pertains to all of you… (Last Anchorman quote) (No promises)
My mother, whom is one of the strongest people I know (Except in physicality; she really struggles with those pickle jars), recently said that adversity makes us stronger and that the trials and tribulations onset from the time we are born mold us into genuine people of value, courage and compassion. It’s a chance for optimism, of growth and opportunities, all rolled into one like some sort of bitter-tasting sushi roll.
Hardships shape who we are. I believe this not only because my mom is 99 percent right on all things except how to pronounce cinnamon, but because regardless of its complications, it has shaped me in preparation for helping others face similar difficulties in the future.
It also recently helped shape me literally. Two pounds – gone! And I had at least six desserts on Easter, plus dessert leftovers.
Perhaps I should send the city of Adver a formal thank you card.
Regardless, humor does not exist in the way misfortune blindsides us at a moment’s notice, nor in the suffering or pain, humiliation or overwhelming sadness that follows in its wake. Not even in the way it threatens to crush your very existence and soul to a mindless, numb pile of bones and muscle that can’t even manage to complete the simplest of tasks, like oooh, let’s say filling your tank with gas. Nothing like having a co-worker watch you get back in your car after parking on the wrong side of the station, only to get out seconds later to try again.
I don’t even have blonde highlights. Talk about a bad day.
In those moments, ya either lose it and live out the remainder of your life in an abandoned bus on the edge of a river or determinedly push ahead, moving forward until you walk into the light again, only to wish you had remembered to bring along sunscreen. Baby steps.
Conscious efforts and well-contemplated decisions are gateways to success navigating through large waves in your life, but the extremity of success or failure is oftentimes enough to make even the sanest person a little nuts. So, even though there is nothing remotely funny to be found when being repeatedly bitch-slapped by adversity, I solely believe it is our job to come out swinging just as hard (Why do you think I kick box?), and preferably with a few good jokes in hand.
Yes, it’s been a rather rough week for this chica, and I know that we all have them except that sometimes they are so bad that it physically and mentally hurts, leaving you short of breath regardless of your strength-training regimen. And this time it is not my intention to elicit pity or parties, because I’ve remarkably already made out with BBQ ribs, a zebra-print umbrella, lots of backrubs, and alarmingly sweet comments at work since Monday. And the bear hugs!
All this in mind, I’m hoping I can’t be blamed for making awful jokes in an attempt to lighten things up. It’s like when people are found innocent in court for something heinous because they plead temporary insanity. Except bad jokes are probably worse. And in that case, I am guilty, guilty, GUILTY.
But humor me.
Clay and I were watching Chopped the other night and one of the special ingredients was ground lamb. After all contestants began making meatballs, I turned to Clay and said rather brightly, “Why doesn’t someone try to make a lamburger?”
Enter me pausing, thinking about that for entirely too long and then bursting out with a hysterical, maniacal laugh. Which – I probably was a little.
But of course, that’s also hilarious. (Humor me)
Later that evening, we were looking for Chloe. Noticing she wasn’t in her normal nap spots, we both knelt down to look under the bed. With the light-footed jingle of her collar, I turn just in time to see Chloe bound into the room, looking at us inquisitively, no doubt questioning our intelligence.
Cue Clayton offering this gem, speaking on behalf of Chloe:
“Hey, whatcha guys lookin’ at?!”
If those didn’t do it for you, I’ll leave you with this: