“Women who get offended when people say that women aren’t funny probably aren’t funny, you know? Who cares if 90-year-old Jerry Lewis thinks women aren’t funny? It’s fine. It’s endearing, if anything. It’s like if your grandmother’s racist—it’s adorable, it’s fine, it’s subjective.”
It is one of my greatest embarrassments in life that, in high school, I actually said I didn’t think female stand up comedians were funny. Who the hell was I? Apparently, I was possessed by the spirit of Jerry Lewis.
To be fair, in high school I read almost exclusively male authors, tried to write like a dude, and pretended I liked shitty music in order to impress guys. I wasn’t exactly “empowered,” to say the least. Sarah Silverman’s right; if someone says that women aren’t funny, it really doesn’t matter…whether that person is Christopher Hitchens or 16-year-old me.
Last weekend, as I waited in line at a coffeeshop, I looked out the window and saw that a guy outside was working on a painting. I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like a painting of someone fabulous. Perhaps Liza Minelli? That couldn’t possibly be true, I told myself, and I took my iced coffee to the patio and sat a few tables away from him.
I’d forgotten about the painting and become engrossed in The Help (because I read books my mom recommends to me. Mom knows best!) when I heard some loud-mouthed lady say, “Heeeeey, I’m your muse.” She sat down across from Painting Guy.
“Who’s that?” she asked, in a raspy, hungover girl voices. You know the type: it’s 4 p.m. but they still haven’t brushed their hair, they’re wearing sunglasses to cover the bags under their eyes, and they have on track shorts like that is an acceptable option when you aren’t working out. Girl, get yourself together! Run a comb through that hair.
“It’s supposed to be Diana Ross,” Painting Guy said in an injured voice. I froze.
Hungover Girl totally did not care. She went to get food.
“Are you a vegetarian?” he asked when she came back.
“No,” she rasped. “I just don’t like to experiment. Like, I know that I like rice. So I get rice. I hate experimenting with my food.”
For some reason I did not go ask Painting Guy if he wanted to be best friends. Obviously we were BFF soulmates!
My missed connection would be like, “You: painting Diana Ross, hanging out with girl who likes rice. Me: Reading The Help, really needing a Diana Ross painting for my apartment. Let’s be besties and eat things other than rice.”
I’m not saying the painting looked like this, but it might’ve looked like this:
Ever since Lauren showed me this Beyonce performance, from this year’s Billboard Music Awards, I’ve been thinking about it. I mean, talk about an inspiring lady. A normal person might be like, “No, I don’t think it’s a good idea to dance like a Peanuts character,” but not Beyonce, because she knows she will look good. She will look good doing LITERALLY ANYTHING. And, God, that video behind her? And the fire? And the (I can only assume) MILLIONS of women dancing behind her? What can’t she do?
My favorite part: When she shakes her head. New favorite dance move!
Least favorite part: That teacher from Glee! He reminds me of Zack Morris, except NOT IN A GOOD WAY.