Funny Feelings (19)

“So, I started writing stuff down that would happen. Stuff that honestly fucking sucked, but that I thought I could find funny if it was happening to someone else. Finding baby shit under my nails, tearing a ligament in my ankle tripping on a play mat. I wrote it down, and eventually was able to turn that into a pilot that I sold.

“So, comedy may have taken me out of my feelings at times, but it helped me make them manageable, too. I made sure whatever I put in front of my face was funny, so I had no other option but to try and laugh. And even when I couldn’t laugh, making my pain into something that someone else could laugh at somehow made me feel less lonely.”

She looks at me and I look away, having spilled my guts as much as I’m willing to at the moment.

“My mom died,” she says. “When I was sixteen. A heart attack. At way too young of an age. And my dad… he didn’t have any kind of custody agreement or anything. I saw him some years and others I didn’t. My mom didn’t even use his child support payments. She put every penny from him into an account for me. The woman struggled to put food on the table, and yet still did everything for me. She never failed to make my life feel like magic,” she smiles as a tear glides down.

“I’m sure it will come as no surprise that I was a very rambunctious kid. Teachers hated me. I just had a really hard time sitting still, was highly emotional. So, my mom had the idea to put me in ASL lessons. She figured if I had to occupy my hands and pay attention, it was the one thing that would help me focus. She was wrong, by the way, but still…”

“Anyway. I wish you guys could have met her. I wish she could have met Hazel. My mom was just… fearless. Bright. Silly. She played with me as a kid and wept with me as a hormonal teen. I know they say you can’t be friends with your kids, but she proved that wrong because I would have done anything to make that woman proud of me…

“I took every penny that she’d put into that account and gave her an epic service. Bought her the most beautiful casket. And when they were lowering her into the ground and my world was crumbling before me, a bird crapped on it.”

“What?” I ask, trying not to snort at that abrupt turn.

“A god-damn bird crapped on my mother’s casket. And I laughed. The worst moment of my life was made just a little less worse by a splatter of shit.” She starts laughing maniacally and wiping away tears, “The priest didn’t know what to do. He tried to wipe it off on his sleeve and kept apologizing, but I was near pissing myself with laughter because I knew she would have loved it.

“And you know what, Meyer? I’ve been living my life that way ever since. Looking for the laugh.”





NOW





“If you’re creating anything at all, it’s really dangerous to care about what people think.” - Kristen Wiig





FARLEY


“Is it going to get you into trouble if I tell the story about the PTA ladies?” I ask Meyer from behind my goblin mask. Hazel decided at the last minute this year that she wants to dress up and give trick-or-treating a go, and this Halloween store is down to slim-pickings.

He frowns as he places a sad puppy mask on his own face. “That depends. Which story?”

“The story, Meyer. When they invited me to their night out?”

He grunts. “I don’t remember.”

“Yes you do. It was like Girls Gone Wild meets the Purge. One woman squirted her breast milk at a bouncer, one ended up with stitches, and that one who always harps on the school lunches ate an impressive $37 worth of Taco Bell at the end of the night.”

“Oh, that one.”

Hazel comes over then, sporting a white wig and coke bottle spectacles.

“Can I be an old woman for Halloween? That way, if anyone yells at me and I don’t respond, they’ll just think I’m being ‘method’?” She signs. This girl’s brain never misses.

I look at Meyer, who’s slid the sad puppy mask off and is smiling that megawatt smile I rarely get to see. “Absolutely.”

When she scampers off, I realize I forgot what I was asking…

“Regarding the PTA mom thing,” Meyer says (Oh, that’s right), “do you plan to paint them in an unflattering light?”

“Not on purpose or anything. I mean, I do think it speaks to the unrelenting pressure that moms are under for them to cut loose that violently, but I personally loved every second of it. I will say, though, that it was made very clear that they only invited me around to try and get the scoop on you.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, as he puts the puppy mask back on the shelf.

I make a “psshhh” sound, and he stops and looks my way.

“No, really? What scoop?”

“You’ve got to know that they all think you’re the hot, broody, single Dad, Meyer. One of them asked me if you, Marissa, and I were a throuple.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not. And once they found out that we’re friends, they each pulled up a list that they’d compiled of people to potentially fix you up with.”

“No.”

“Don’t worry. I covered for you. I backpedaled and told them all that I’m secretly in unrequited, passionate, bittersweet love with you and they shut up real quick.” God, Fee, what in good fuck possessed you to say that?!!! I laugh awkwardly behind the goblin face. I hate it here.