Home and Deranged
Do you think I'm funny? (Come on sugar, let me know): Relationship defining Qs
There should really be a separate font for sarcasm. (Comic Sans might work, in that you don’t take anything written in it seriously. Who do I speak to about this, I wonder?)
In this age of digital communication, in which conveying intonation is nearly impossible, it’d be nice to have a less open-handed-slap-worthy, more subtle way to say “jk.”
Of all of life’s awkward instances, none is worse than making a comment with tongue firmly in cheek and having it interpreted literally. Only slightly less cringe-worthy is when someone says something they obviously find hilarious, and it falls so flat you can’t even muster up a polite crack of a smile.
Only recently I was at a small gallery opening when I found myself stuck in a corner with the sort of person who asks what your passion is instead of what you do for a living. When the conversation turned to taste and he asked who my favorite artist was (medium unspecified) I replied straight-faced, “Jason Derulo.” He, uh . . . didn’t catch the joke.
(I imagine the sting of my failed humor was much the way George Lopez would feel if we were ever to spend any time one-on-one.)
Religious differences, divergent views on child-rearing and opposing political orientations are petty quibbles in comparison to mismatched senses of humor.
You really don’t have to have a lot in common to maintain a relationship. Many times the more different you are, the more interesting it gets. In fact, the only insurmountable obstacle is this: Do you think I’m
I’ve got clean-cut friends from prep school, friends covered in tattoos, friends from both coasts and one from Canada. Bleeding-heart libs, misguided Republicans, vegans, Safari aficionados, and I even know a couple of black people. (That’s me — joking. I don’t know any). **
The unifying thread is simply that, even if we don’t always crack each other up, we’ve all cracked up (or would) at Old Gregg.
(An aside — inside jokes do not qualify as a shared sense of humor. Just because a few of you still giggle at something that happened at camp seven years ago does not mean you have an impenetrable bond. If you find yourself saying “you had to be there,” it’s not funny.)
What is an acceptable alternative, however, to totally in-tuned senses of humor is appreciating the unintentionally hilarious. The Boyfriend often has me in stitches. It is almost never on purpose.
He is, as we speak, firing his first-ever Tweets into cyber-space (from my account — #hedoesnthaveone) and is genuinely troubled that no one is “twittering” back at him. For my part, I’m not sure it’s my always-perfect delivery that amuses him so much as my accompanying facial expressions.
At or with, it doesn't matter — as long as you're both in on it. Just so long as you're laughing.
**Insert Comic Sans.