A Giggling Idiot

I truly am a giggling idiot. I make that claim in my bio ("giggling idiot for the ages and I encourage everyone to follow suit"). I put it in there for fun but I truly am a giggling idiot.

It happens a lot when I'm nervous. In fact, sometimes the funnier I am the more uncomfortable I find a situation. It's that way with my singing as well. Curiously, I've been known to break into full arias depending on my mood, but the mood that brings it on can range from sunny to dark. Boredom too eggs me on. I was already midway through an Elvis Costello song as I loaded my clothes into the laundromat dryer before I realized that what I was singing was fully audible to anyone nearby. Often, when someone hears me singing they comment, "Ooh, someone's in a good mood" and I counsel them not to necessarily bank on my singing to gauge my mood.

So to this I add giggle fits or laughter. Or the five minute set of inappropriate jokes I can reel off at any given time. At my brother's wake I was like a stand up comedian. 

I'd like to say it's a genetic Irish thing. There's a fantastic saying: "Irish charm is the ability to tell someone to go to hell and have them look forward to the trip." Still, I can't help but wonder if in my core, it's more nurture than nature. I was raised by two incredibly funny and quick parents. Unfortunately many of their cleverest lines were used to lacerate each other or those in the line of fire (i.e.: their kids). Consequently, the kids learned at the dinner table a way to diffuse the situation by using a witty comment at the expense of the other siblings and feeling, at least for a few moments, somehow more than zero.

And of course sometimes it was all for fun. But if I've been accused of quick witticism, I can blame that on those years when the family tried their best to sit together at a table and...well eat like a family (as opposed to apes throwing verbal crap at each other which is usually the direction those failed-Norman Rockwell dinners took).

Because of this I can see humor in the darkest of moments. It's a coping mechanism that, if I were writing comedies, would come in extremely handy  but can none the less throw people off at times.

Still, I suppose it could be worse. What's the fallout, really? I avoid discomfort, a situation can be diffused and maybe it puts a smile on the face of someone who desperately needs a smile. 

So yes, I may be a giggling idiot, but it is my superpower and I wear it proudly! (even if not always conveniently)