Laugh Til You Cry
Everyone deals with grief in their own way. In my family, you make jokes. You laugh at inappropriate times and in inappropriate places, like oncology wards. You blow up rubber gloves and pretend they're chickens and walk them around the hospital room and make them tell off-color jokes to your children. You share stories about your funny little dog or your drunken birthday party. You lie on your sickbed and crack wise with the family gathered around you to say goodbye, because you're the toughest old broad who ever walked the planet and don't anybody forget it.
The crying comes after, in the hallway or the elevator or the car. You cling to each other and the tears fall. Just for a minute - just long enough. In a few seconds, someone will make a smartass remark and everyone will wipe their eyes and laugh a little and begin to pull away, start going back to their regularly scheduled lives. You'll wipe your nose with your sleeve and thank your lucky stars that, of all the people in the world, you somehow got thrown in with these lunatics. You linger in misty sentimentality for another second or two, and then some sadist suggests a quick dinner at Perkins, where your grilled cheese fails to have actual cheese on it, the waitress goes AWOL, and you find yourself feeling a little better about everything by the time the check arrives.
I love you, family.
* * * * * *
In other developments:
Sugar and Wendi Break Ira Glass
Tequila Red Still Smoke-Free, Distracting Self With Hair Dye
Newest shade: Ronald #43. Fiesty!
Phrase "Feather In Your Cap" Taken Wrong
Mad Bomber Kind Of Hot
The crying comes after, in the hallway or the elevator or the car. You cling to each other and the tears fall. Just for a minute - just long enough. In a few seconds, someone will make a smartass remark and everyone will wipe their eyes and laugh a little and begin to pull away, start going back to their regularly scheduled lives. You'll wipe your nose with your sleeve and thank your lucky stars that, of all the people in the world, you somehow got thrown in with these lunatics. You linger in misty sentimentality for another second or two, and then some sadist suggests a quick dinner at Perkins, where your grilled cheese fails to have actual cheese on it, the waitress goes AWOL, and you find yourself feeling a little better about everything by the time the check arrives.
I love you, family.
In other developments:
Sugar and Wendi Break Ira Glass
Tequila Red Still Smoke-Free, Distracting Self With Hair Dye
Newest shade: Ronald #43. Fiesty!
Phrase "Feather In Your Cap" Taken Wrong
Mad Bomber Kind Of Hot
Tequila Red called it a day @ 1:05 AM
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