Abundant Humor

I received a fortune cookie at a Panda Express jut outside Portland, Oregon that felt more like a command: “Share your abundant humor with others.” I’ve known for awhile now that I’m funnier than I think I am. You just never expect General Tso to tell you to shape up.

A friend told me a few months ago that if I could ever harness my audio storytelling ability into written form, I’d strike publishing gold. I watched another friend laugh her way through the first blog post on this blog, so I know I can do it. I’m just not sure how I did it.

I believe I’m funniest over text message–especially in long-term friendships with a plethora of inside jokes and madness to delve from. I’m also at my best when flirting with the line and allowing the other person to fill in the gaps. Those dirty brains of theirs.

I’ve also been told my face is funny. I’ve looked in the mirror, so I see what they’re saying.

But honestly, I love when people laugh. I love to laugh. But abundant humor? I guess that fits. It’s been politely put that I “have a lot of personality” and “am doing The Most.” What they’re saying is, “Hoo boy, you’re a hot mess.” They’re not wrong. If you’re gonna be a disaster, just go ahead and be a spectacle.

But where does this humor come from? Especially when I feel like I’m under the constant heaviness and lack of joy that is depression. There’s a lot of levity in a well-timed, well-delivered joke–a grenade lob of laughter into the darkness. I try to do that for others as often as I can. It’s a prime weapon in my arsenal of encouragement and comfort techniques.

But I don’t really laugh as much as I used to. Not the deep, cleansing, eye-watering, belly-aching, healing laughs. The Wonder Years summed up the way it feels in There, There. It’s a resonating song for four years now. I guess with writing, as with life, I’ve just got to keep searching for the laughter. I stumble across it, and maybe one day I’ll catch it for good.


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