Monday, June 16, 2008

Holy hell, it's been a while!

Hey y'all! Didja miss me?

Hello? Hello?

[tap tap tap] Is this thing on?

Most of you reading this (all 0 of you) know that I managed to finally get a job, in the area of law that I wanted to practice in, with people I've discovered I really like, in a firm that so far has treated me well. I can't believe it, but it's true.

My personal life has been, well, typical. Usually ridiculous, always interesting; full of ups and downs, but always full.

I was reading through my old posts tonight (why? why? go to bed you big dum dum!) and laughed myself silly. Sometimes I am funny! Like, objectively funny! Can one be objective about one's own talents? Hmmm. A question for the ages.

Anyway, sometimes I forget that I'm funny--usually when my life gets a little static and I'm not meeting new people who praise me for being funny. Yeah, I'm a sucker for gratuitous affirmation. But how does one who is funny stop being funny? Is being amusing occasionally enough to have the self-identity of a funny person? And who decides that one is funny? I mean, am I only funny if someone else says that I am? If I'm the only one who thinks I'm funny, then am I really just deluded and annoying? (Well... yes.) So when I feel like I'm not funny anymore, like I haven't been amusing in a while, is that just my perception, or is it a perception that others share and that I have picked up on? And if it's my perception alone, then can it possibly be true? Or I am really just deluded and (maybe) annoying? (Oh like this self-indulgent post is not annoying, come on, self.)

My impression is that my particular funnyness comes from my willingness to exploit, for comedy's sake, the ridiculous things I do*. Because I really do do ridiculous things (hahaha I said doo doo). But, in making fun of these ridiculous things, and by extension, of myself, do I cement in everyone's mind that I am just a fool? Because I'm not. It's true, I do foolish things, I do silly things, I do ridiculous things. But I am not a fool. And sometimes I get the impression that my friends really do think I'm a fool. They are unsurprised when I do something foolish; they expect me to do something foolish. (Stop saying funny, ridiculous, and fool; jeebus.) They cease being amused by my antics and by my relation of my antics and instead are annoyed by them. They don't see me as a funny person anymore. Just a fool.

And that hurts my feelings. Do my friends even know me? Do they even want to know me, the real me? Do they notice when I do something unfoolish? Does it alter their perception of who I am? And, if they think I'm a fool, then what are they, to be friends with a fool? And what am I, for being friends with people who think I'm a fool? And why do other people from my past lives, with whom I did much more foolish shit, not consider me a fool, but instead see me as a complex, complicated, deeply funny person? And do they really think that, or do I just like to think that they do? And maybe, just maybe, should I just get over myself? I mean, really, do people think about me as much as I think they think about me? I'm guessing no.

What it all comes down to, I think, is this: am I anything if I'm not funny? And if I'm only funny because I make fun of my own ridiculous and foolish antics, am I anything if I'm not a ridiculous fool? So why should I be upset when my friends think I'm a fool? Shouldn't I feel affirmed? If I feel hurt that my friends think I'm a fool, then do I really believe that I'm funny? If I don't believe that I'm funny, then who am I? And am I not a little old to be having the "who am i?" internal debate? Aren't you supposed to have this shit figured out by the time you're 30?

Yes. These are the questions that keep me up at night.

*Like leave my ticket for the Jack Johnson concert on the kitchen table. And not realize it until I'm walking up to the venue. After sitting in traffic for an hour.

1 comment:

Sister said...

I don't think you're a fool. At least no more of a fool than I am. Case in point of my fooldom: I spent 15 minutes last week looking for my hair clip - that was in my hair. Now I could cover that up and deny it happened, except that it cracks me up. I had tears in my eyes and almost couldn't finish the story when I was trying to tell Jen.

You are a smart, complex, wonderful person - that also happens to amuse yourself and others at times.

Love ya,