The NWComedyNetwork.com presents our ongoing essay series,”Comedy is…”. This series asks people from all walks of life to tell us, in story form, how they would define comedy.
Lori K. Davis – Orange, CA
I suppose one might say that it was destiny that we finally found each other.
Or maybe even just dumb fucking luck.
For years I’d been moving up and down the Western seaboard, going wherever it was life took me, all the while searching, still searching, for that thing that lets you know you’re in the right spot.
Then one day I let myself stay in one place for more than a hot minute, the next thing I know -BLAMO!-, cupid slapped me in the face, and here we are three years later, and in a month I’m getting married.
Not even knocked up, I’m proud to say.
A few words about weddings, if I may…<a-hem>
- Whoever it was that came up with the biggest scam in the history of humankind, is a maniacal genius.
- Conversely, the a-hole who has decided that bridal gown sizes should be two or three times smaller than they actually are should be taken out back and slowly suffocated with Spanx.
- On that note, here’s hoping my roommate, or fiancé if you’re a Francophile, is into the muffin top that’s currently taking shape on my upper back. Either way, it’ll be alllll his.
- If one more person asks me what my colors are, I’m going to tell them “blush & bashful” and be done with it.
No, you cannot just write “+1” on your RSVP card and think that we’re going to pay for your whore-du-jour to partially enjoy a less-than-mediocre chicken-a-la-king dinner. Jackass.
- And one final thought: Stick. To. The. Registry.
At this point, it’s a miracle that I’m able to laugh (on the outside) about some of the things that I’ve faced during the last ten months of planning. Ten months of planning. For one day. ONE. If it wasn’t for my sense of humor, I’m not sure what sort of substance abuse I’d have adopted by now.
Well, yes, I do. Food. It’s always food. With a hint of booze to wash it down. But then we’re back to the Spanx again.
Comedy, for me, really does make everything better. Eventually anyways. Not always in that exact moment, say when your nana tells you via Skype that your cousin’s brother’s cousin can’t make it to your wedding because his third wife is getting her boobs done, again, and you laugh so hard that your own boobs hurt. But eventually everyone else, or some hopefully, will come around and see what it was that you thought was so funny whilst they were all busy faking concern and non-judgment.
It’s the thing that keeps me sane in moments of pure insanity. It’s completely un-universal and yet it can connect you with people on the other side of the globe in an instant. It’s a gift and a burden all at once. It can’t be taught, learned, or even controlled at times. And it sure don’t look cute in too-tight jeans.
Irony is working in the same building with your future husband for more than a year before you realize that he exists. (Donotlookupthedefinitionofironytosendtome.Iknowthisexampleisincorrect.)
Love is having lived the first 35 years of my life as a “Davis” and now semi-voluntarily changing it to “Whitehair”. Did you hear what I just said?
Comedy is knowing that my next husband will have a nice continental name like Cooper, Gosling, or Selleck that will open doors for me and the generations to come. And I’ll be the one laughing all the way to the day spa.
About the Author
Lori K Davis is currently not an actress, a children’s book writer, nor does she yet have her own quaint, comfy, small town bakery. She lives in Orange, CA and is at all times trying to decide what she wants to be when she grows up. By the time you read this, she will have tied the knot with the best thing that’s ever happened to her.