Make them laugh

I just finished re-reading Ella Enchanted.


Explanation: Okay, WHY do I even need one?


But I'll give you one anyway.


Basically I was donating plasma and I only had a handful of audiobooks on my phone and NO headphones, so I flipped through my library app and thought, What's a fun short read?" I immediately thought of my favorite childhood book and it was available!! Naturally, I checked it out and finished it that night...

 It was the first book I ever read on my own and my introduction to the genre of fantasy.  This was me at 2 am:

I feel weird saying this, but I think that the Ella from this Cinderella story really influenced me. I loved that she fearlessly pursued her goals, she never stood for bullying, she boldly defied the people who tried to control her, and she was ready to sacrifice her dreams/happiness to literally save the kingdom. Okay, so some of those things don't apply to me. The greatest thing that appealed to me was her sense of humor. She charmed a prince by making him laugh a lot. 

I've always liked making people laugh. I vividly remember a moment in preschool where I was riding a see-saw with another girl. I did something silly and she shrieked with laughter. I did something even more ridiculous. She laughed louder. I found a wooden toy on the ground and chucked it across the room.

I was put in time-out for the remainder of the day and I was still crying by the time my mom picked me up. I remember her kissing me repeatedly and softly explaining that I shouldn't throw things.  My mom is a sucker for tears, and I love that about her. 

While I never tried that same comedy routine again, I think that was the moment I began to actively search for ways to make people laugh. I wouldn't often get in trouble, but I can't say it never happened again. 

One time, my older sister and I (around the ages of 6 and 7) were losing our heads over nothing in the back seat of the car, and my dad was getting annoyed. He didn't like to hear us (or be reminded of our existence😂) even if it was just laughter. At one point during the car ride, he warned us that if we didn't shut up, he would smack us. I knew it was our last warning, but I was in the middle of a good laugh. I looked over at Stephanie and smiled facetiously, daring her to laugh again. She broke and I silently joined, triumphant. My dad reached behind him where she was sitting and smacked her.  

[insert escalator]

As I grew older, I began to realize that there were more aspects to social interaction than humor and I had neglected learning these things. Friends were scarce and I was getting desperate. I could still make friends by making them laugh, but I didn't know how to keep them. The only solution I could come to was a continuous stream of jokes.

I'm not kidding (about my continuous kidding). I was almost ALWAYS searching for something hilarious to observe or do. I couldn't relax because I didn't want my "friends" to think I was boring and leave me. It became something of a self-fulfilling prophecy. Those few moments I ran out of material, their smiles would fade and they would look at me expectantly. And I always eventually ran out of jokes. 

By the time I reached 9th grade, I found a good group of friends and I had learned a new trick: play dumb. People love laughing at the dumb girl. It's a standard stock character in most sitcoms, and it turns out it's a pretty secure social role to fill as an insecure teenager. They didn't even treat me that badly. I was like an adorable, but stupid pet. 

I had stumbled upon this trick by accident. At that time in my life, I still had the attention-span of a goldfish and had one or two times been half-listening to someone tell a joke. The punch-line would come while my head was still partly in outer space and I would return to Earth right when everyone else laughed. I would quickly join the laughter and while I was laughing try to remember what had been said. Then a second or two later, I would fully recall what I had been half-listening to and really laugh. Naturally, I was lovingly granted the role of the dumb blonde (a role now graciously granted to girls of any hair color or ethnicity).

By the end of ninth grade, I was required to leave this group of friends to move across the country. While I hated leaving, I decided that dumb blonde status is actually pretty degrading. I resolved to shed this identity for something people could take seriously. And to me, that meant less jokes. 

I really liked this idea of being someone who didn't need to rely on humor to keep friends, so I adopted a more alert, so-serious-you-have-to-take-me-serious posture. For some reason, people didn't respond well to that. I also had no idea how to make friends outside of making people laugh. Maybe it was the age-group or maybe it was just Ohio, but somehow people could sense that I was insecure and socially inept. Friends were hard to come by. I did this a couple times:

It's shameful for teens to be seen alone by their peers.

At church, I didn't really try my "serious" persona, and while I didn't go back to the dumb blonde routine, people still sensed my insecurity. I remember one girl in particular who insinuated that I was stupid in Sunday school and instead of challenging her, I pretended not to hear. I hated confrontation and even more than that, I hated the thought of making someone feel bad for making me feel bad.

No, but really. I cared more about other people's feelings than my own. I liked to joke all the time that I was a doormat. Nobody laughed at that one.

There was more loneliness in the following years and I eventually made some friends. I was surprised when I could go a whole day without making a joke and my friends still wanted to see me the next day. It honestly took me a while to completely ditch stupid Jessica and come to a point where I was comfortable showcasing other parts of myself. 

College was a beautiful place. I pupated and emerged a social butterfly, and nobody knew that I was a loser. well, most people.  I learned how easy it was to befriend people who respected me and never give the others my time. I also learned how to call people out for disrespect in addition to fully reacting to it.

It was pretty empowering. And you know what, I rarely ever encounter disrespect anymore. People just kind of... respect me from the beginning. I know, it's a stage of life thing. Adults just are better at hiding their jerk side. But I do think self-respect plays a huge role as well.

When it comes to humor though, most people don't really get to know my sense of humor. It's a little sad...

Except my best friends. My best friend Ruth once told me I was the funniest person she knew. And I will treasure that statement FOREVER. It's on record now, Ruth. 

ONE TIME... 

So, I was pregnant (number one) and I was gassier than normal. My husband and I were making dinner and I was on one of my joking streaks. At one point after the punch-line of a joke, I farted really loud. We both laughed and I heard my husband say, "You are the funniest person I know."

I beamed. 

"You know, Ruth told me that once--that I was the funniest person she knew," I gloated.

"No, I said you're the fartiest person I know.'"

He laughed again, this time alone.

It's okay, I know what he really meant. I am the funniest person he knows.