Funny Girl

Everyone in a group has a role.  Within a group of friends, there is usually an organized friend to be sure everyone is on time, a reasonable one to keep everyone from fighting, a crazy one to make it interesting, and a funny one to cut the tension.  Sometimes one person encompasses more than one role but they’re all there.  Every movie captures this idea so it must be true.

Recently it came to my attention that (in one group, at least) I’m the funny one.  When you’re known as the “funny” friend, a lot of expectation accompanies the title.  It’s surprising, I know.  Most expect the “funny” friend to be like the class clown that does stupid shat to get everyone off topic and frustrate the teacher.

Not gonna lie, I’m REALLY good at throwing others into a tangent.  And at causing frustration.

{Mrs. Francis Freedman: “Ok cla-us.  Today we aw gunna read tha ma-sta-piece known as Sidhawtha”.  Me: Um, I’m a masterpiece… can we please take a moment to discuss me?  Class: giggle, giggle  Mrs. Francis Freedman, “Miss Humphries, please see me afta class.”  Me:  Dam.}

But then what about when we aren’t in school?  Huh?

Hey, E, my grandma just died.  Would you come over?  All my family is here and we’re all really sad.  You’re so funny.  You’d cheer everyone up.

No.  No, I won’t.  Ever been to a funeral with me?  I get extremely uncomfortable with all the crying.  I’ll make wildly inappropriate comments that leave all of your family members wondering when the floor will open up and drop me to Hell.  Want an example?

{You: I’m going to miss her so much.  Me: Well, at least now your hands can air out from the nightly Bengay applications, ammirite???}

And I don’t say inappropriate things on purpose.  It just happens.  Kind of like being “funny”.  I just say stuffs.  Some of it garners a laugh.  Most of it doesn’t.  That’s why I mumble a lot.

{Huh?  Oh, nothing.}

Be funny all the time on demand.  DANCE, MONKEY!  DANCE!  Um… no.  In defiance, I refuse to be funny.  Gah, no I don’t.  I’m such a laugh whore.

I’ve noticed that when I’m trying to be serious, people still think I’m trying to be funny.  That’s the problem with these roles.  Abandoning them throws the group’s energy off.  The whole balance is lost.  The chubby friend loses weight, the ugly friend gets a nose job, the funny friend gets divorced… this is serious shat.  I’ve seen entire groups collapse under this type of pressure.

Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE being called “funny”.  To me, it’s more gratifying than being told I’m pretty.  Being pretty can also be used to describe a no-so-great thing.  “We’re so glad you accepted the position.  I think you’ll do really well here.  To be honest, though, you may have some issues with the other women here because you’re so pretty.”  Uh- Thank you??  To date, I haven’t experienced that with the adjective “funny”.

Just don’t say these roles out loud.  Audibly recognizing what we all already know makes the pressure real.  It says, “The only reason you are here is to be funny.  Outside of that, you have no purpose.”  Then I think, “Oh!  I have to step up my game!”  And then I say things like, “Dying isn’t bad!  You get to go to Heaven, hopefully!”  Or, “you’re barren?  Think of all the money you’ll save on diapers!”  And my fave, “Congratulations on getting married!  Don’t worry.  If it doesn’t work out, divorce is survivable.”  Yes, all things I’ve said.  And reasons I should never be allowed out of the house.

So, if your chubby friend drops 100 lbs. tell her how proud you are!  Your beautiful friend tattoos her face?  Awesome!  Just don’t acknowledge the wrench that’s been tossed in the middle of your circle.  The old roles are dead and there is nothing you can do to bring them back.  Saying them out loud will just push your friends away.  Maybe show up with a new beautiful friend to invite into the group so the tattooed one can become the crazy one.  Hashtag Problem Solved.

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