The butt of all jokes = me

Despite my gruff exterior (especially when behind the piano screaming, pulling my hair out, and tearing my garments in despair when people refuse to sing what I JUST. TAUGHT. THEM.), I have an uncanny knack for making people overly comfortable around me. This results in what me and my friends at the production company call "too comfortable." All of those people who think that they're going to get a phone call begging them to be in one of our shows instead of being expected to show up at auditions just like everyone else. All of those people who call themselves close, personal friends when I haven't seen/spoken with them in years. And lastly, and worst of all... all of those people who barely know me from Adam asking me when I'm getting married.

I think this last one is the mortal sin of all social faux pas. It's uncomfortable. It's annoying. It's rude. And most of all, it's none of your business and you're probably not invited to the wedding anyway. Being happily un-single to the same person for the past three years, however, all of humanity thinks it's cute... funny... remotely appropriate to ask me this last question whenever the notion strikes them. Like I'm knocking on death's door. That combined with the fact that about 75% of my remaining close single friends are getting married this summer has put me a little on edge to say the very least.

So that brings me to an amusing exchange I just had with one of my co-workers, whose wife is about to explode with the birth of their first child any day now.

Me: You're going to be a daddy-pants any day now. Wow. You're old.
Him: Yeah, I know.
Me: No, seriously... do you plan on living to be 100?
Him: No, not remotely.
Me: Then a quarter of your life has already come and gone. Isn't that crazy to you?
Him: No, not really. Probably a quarter of yours, too.

So then I remind him that my family (well at least my mother's side) lives until it's ridiculous. My great-great-grandmother lived to be 117. My great-grandmother, who lived with us until I was almost 18, lived to be 104. People in my family just refuse to die. So once I jogged his memory of this fact, I declared the following:

Me: I want to live to be like 105... old enough to have a few chances at being one of those Smuckers people!

and after a brief pause...

Because it's not like I'm going to be on Smuckers for being married for 75 years or something crazy like that.

Him: YES! I can so see it now. ::in a Willard Scott-like voice:: "Downbeat Diva, at 105 years old, hails from Baltimore, Maryland. She loves the theatre and writing songs. She used to teach the theatre to children. And after all of these long years, she just six months ago tied the knot to her college sweetheart!"

We had a good laugh. He decided that he now wanted to live a long life. Just to see me be a Smuckers poster child for the Today Show (because, you know, they'll still do that in 2089). And then the fluorescent bulb in his office flickered a little brighter. I think even God was laughing at us... at me... just like everyone always does.