On Being Funny

A very well-known comedian came by our office today.

He said I was funny.

When did I become a Funny Girl? I'm no Barbra Streisand. My nose is hardly Grecian and I can't sing for shit. I'm not Jewish either. Sure, I can croak out a decent "Happy Birthday" but that does not make me ze diva. Yet when I say something as mundane as "oh please pull up your pants dear your pink bikini briefs are showing", I get a huge laugh. I've also been told that I snort - not snore, but snort - in my sleep, and it's actually been recorded on tape. Is this the reason why boys generally come to me not to woo me, but to unload their problems and unwind and relax?

Ang saya-saya mo, he said, parang wala kang problema.

Huwat?, I replied. I couldn't believe it.

You can do stand-up comedy, he nodded.

He was serious!

I'll break you in.

And then I promptly fell off my seat.

Doesn't he know I'm dying from having to handle so many projects all at the same time? That my body is on the verge of giving up? That sleep, real, deep, satisfying, REM dream producing sleep, has become a distant memory to me now? That I keep pining for something I know I cannot have? That I wish I could jet off to exotic locations on any given day but instead I am stuck in Manila, keeping my nose to the grind day in and day out (even on weekends)?

I don't want to complain, but look, I already have. So that wasn't so funny. I believe that life IS funny, no matter how you end up.

In any case I see a pleasant life for myself and the ones I love now and in the future. And I already know that we'll be laughing, together, many years down the road.