My Point of View

I've been discovered.

I was riding in the car with my husband when he made a curious observation.

"Are you happy?" he asked.

"Sure. I'm ok," I said.

"No, not okay. You don't have a middle ground."

I was tickled to my toes that he'd noticed.

It's true, I have no middle ground. When I'm happy, I'm deliriously thrilled. On those rare occasions when I'm angry, I'm pissed to all hell. Why? I adore the extremes. It's those unusual moments that spur the creativity of a writer. A drama should make me weep. A romance should make me want to fall in love all over again. A comedy should be so funny it makes me run to the bathroom. Here are a few noteworthy funny stories I have enjoyed the honor of experiencing.

Funny Story 1: Last year, for my birthday, my hubby took me horseback riding because I've been bugging him about it for years. I hadn't ridden a horse since I was three, at which time I peed on the unsuspecting animal. So he took me. I rode on a black horse named Storm. He, being such a tall man, was matched up to a caramel-colored horse named Snickers. Snickers was a feisty animal. If anything spooked him, the horse would flip himself around 90 degrees, but surely a man could keep him in line, or so they thought. The ride was going good. We're having fun. Something scared Snickers, so he flips himself around, assumes a hunched up position, and decides to defecate. The last thing I remember seeing through my hysterical laughter was the large form of my hubby sitting on a pooping horse.

Funny Story 2: I had a friend once. She was a New Yorker. I don't know if that had anything to do with it, but she had a mouth on her that could make a sailor blush and a biker gape (I know, I'm stereotyping). She had also recovered from a brain tumor that had damaged the left side of her body. She would fall all the time. It was normal, even expected. We'd be walking and plop, there she went. Well, we were at McDonald's one day. She ordered a double cheeseburger, fries and a drink, and insisted on carrying her own tray. Any offer to help was seen as an acknowledgement of her malfunction. So I let her carry her stuff. Well, next thing you know, she falls, and it was quite dramatic. She spun a full circle. The tray went flying, fries smacked someone in the head, pop spilled on the ground. She slipped on it, one leg went forward, the other backwards, and she wound up on a floor. It was a pirouette. And so I laughed.
After searing me with a glance, she says, "You mother*bleep*asshole, quit laughing at me."
We were friends for years, so at this point I was accustomed to her colorful retorts. "I'm not laughing at you," I said. "I enjoyed the sight of your fall. You don't understand. It was grandiose." She was able to appreciate my point of view after that.

Funny Story 3: Never take me ice skating. I was one of those deprived kids who never learned physical activity of any type, so when I turned 18, a friend of mine suggested we go ice skating. Half hour into it she was sitting on a bench engaging in a frenzied cackling. I had succeeded in falling for the umpteenth time, taking six other people down with me, and was being reprimanded by the portly woman I had landed on while kids skated around me pointing. I didn't blame my friend for laughing. To onlookers I must have been hilarious. I would have done the same in her place. Needless to say, I never went ice skating again.

Why am I posting these comical ventures? I have a mantra, one of many. "If you're going to do something, do it all the way, go for the gusto. Half-ass doesn't cut it. That goes for writing too."

Have a great day, and I hope I made you laugh at least once.