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Monday, August 24, 2009

Not Funny Yet

My first favorite book was Go Dogs, Go: An absolute feat of literary genius. A triumph. Between its orange bindings twisted a plot paramount to any Alexandre Dumas, poetic styling not unlike that of the masters Donne, Hopkins, and Wordsworth, the human awareness of Jane Austen and humorous satire to rival that of William Shakespeare. You can imagine my horror then upon one day finding this prestigious classic besmirched with the graffitious pen of my toddler sister. I calmly and matter-of-factly informed my mother of these crimes, as I was not the sort of child to explode with overly dramatic storms of emotion. Obviously a characteristic still maintained to this day. I also reminded my mother that I never displayed such behavior when I was at so chubby and slobbery an age. She attempted to ease my suffering with a phrase I would come to hear often and know well... “Some day we will look back at this and laugh”. I found this lack of punishment and justice frustratingly insufficient. However, as predicted, I did eventually look back and laugh, even if with the occasional shadow of a sigh. The masochistically ironic rub is that indeed we often do look back and laugh at these pain-filled moments of grief and trauma. And while laughter may in fact be the best medicine, I find it a rather insulting remedy in the midst of heartache.

So I find myself again in a less than desirable position that will probably be funny at some future date. It may even be funny to those removed from the situation now. Feel free to laugh at the following. I live in Anaheim California. I work as a custodian at Disneyland. I scrap gum off of things with a metal stick. I clean up after a code v, a code u, and a code h… I’ll let you guess at what those could stand for. I live in a little room with two other girls. I sleep on the top of a bunk bed. I have three drawers. My roommate hacks her lungs out all night. I rode a city bus for the first time. I haven’t been on the city bus a second time. I wear white pants at my belly button with a white shirt tucked into them and a maroon belt. These pants would be considered by the world to be extremely short/high-waters, but Disney is convinced that above your sock is an appropriate length for pants. There are 20 people in my singles branch. Actually, there are only 18. 16. The number dwindles as I type. I ran by a foul-mouthed lady arguing loudly with her hairbrush in the middle of the sidewalk. I run by much scarier things that I will not list. I don’t get to see my sister, nieces, friends, or any of you other goons (a.k.a. family). I pray everyday that I will still be the favorite aunt when I get home. The one day I went to Disneyland with my roommates to play, I got a migraine. I only eat cold cereal… okay, not much has changed there.

One day I hope to be able to look back at all of this and laugh.

It isn’t funny yet.

Okay, okay, the pants are a little funny.

11 comments:

Kyle Lemmon said...

Oh Jess....I am so sorry. Our family misses you and prays for you. My girls love you very much.

Kyle

erin said...

Yeah, I'd like a picture of those pants. Don't worry, I don't think it's funny yet either. What was funny, was watching Jordy come home to her pile of presents. Another not funny thing, you weren't there. We should make a count down to January, forget Christmas.

Anonymous said...

i have no one to make funny comments to. no one thinks we're twins around here. no one else takes handfuls of cereal right out of the box here. no one tells embarrassing stories about my childhood...oh wait yeah, that still happened.

sorry about the go dogs go book. and the other stuff, but not about the crazy lady arguing with the hair brush. THAT is awesome.

Love you miss you want you need you.

p.s. this is cecily

Anonymous said...

What a relief!

You've pin-pointed Cecily's commencement into her life of crime. It's a sobering reminder and warning to all who would venture down the dark path of mixing crayola products and beginner books. So many innocent victims left to founder and try to pick up their shattered dreams and waylaid aspirations.

I've heard very good things about the Disney Recovery Program. (DRP) Princess and Jedi Training on your time off could serve you well.

Be strong and remember the summaried wisdom of P.D. Eastman; The world is full of big and little dogs and you don't always have to like their hats, (or in some cases, their pants!).

(In the meantime, what's a code h? v and u were easy, but...?)

Jess&Cec said...

ahhh... thanks guys. i'm working on the countdown now, erin. good idea. cec, nothing about your childhood was embarrassing, well... except that one time... and mom, code h... horse and human. you can probably take it from there. hint:what wasn't covered in u and v. kyle, keep pointing at my picture and reminding those girls that i exist... that seemed to work really well while I was gone on my mission, and i love you and your family very very much too. seriously, it's not that bad... sorta... it just made a good blog. upbeat next time, i promise. love you all!

Anonymous said...

Nice job on "graffitious".
It's quite euphonious.

Carolyn Quebe Williams said...

Jess, I don't know where the heck life has taken you, and I am sorry that it isn't very funny yet...for you. But I got a chuckle from it :) And for that, I am very grateful. Oh dear, that probably didn't help...haha. You. are. wonderful.

Anonymous said...

It's all about keeping your head up, a smile on your face, and watching for the sun. It's there, promise. One day we'll swap stories - your's about Disney-tales, mine about little old ladies at the Family History Library. Oh, there are tales to tell! Keep smiling,
Sis. Spils

Nan said...

Oh man...I am feeling your pain...come live with us...we will find you a job...Whitney's room doesn't have any drawers, but nobody coughs all night and for sure there are no high-water pants in the house to even consider for putting on the body. And no code h announcements...

sara spils said...

hey lady... when you can get away jump on the 22 and head west!!! no one coughs and you are always welcome. plus i will never make you clean up any h u or v... unless it's yours... i don't love you that much! :) come visit... you are not alone!
- love sara

Unknown said...

in 20 years we'll be at the vaca high track watching the lew kids and two other last names (TBD) tear it up while we reminisce on lousy jobs, middle of no-where-towns (del rio), dead-end-boyfriends, and how we experienced loneliness in our youth so that it could finally bring us together to be better friends.

maybe it won't go exactly like that, but i know we're all apart for a reason and i like to think it's so we can be together later.

love you and praying for you.
stef