People like laughing at stuff. People who empathise with stuff are more loyal. People love being nosey and uncovering a good sex scandal. If I get the mix right here, I’ll be famous. More importantly, though, I want to illustrate that life isn’t over for you when the love of your life dies!
Laughing is good for your health
There’s nothing like a good laugh; a raised smile, chuckling, guffawing, spewing tea out your nose laughs boast many health benefits. It’s not going to cure cancer, but laughter can lower your blood pressure, improve your ability to learn and even tone up your tummy. Today I have made significant progress towards my washboard stomach from laughing at journo friend’s first-time sex advice for me: “Have sex and then after, ask BW to kneel and pray for forgiveness for you have sinned, then start weeping softly. Nothing says ‘I’m sane’ like a spot of post coital self-flagellation.”
People are more engaged when things are funny and they can relate to them.
Two Ohio University-Zanesville psychology professors, Mark Shatz and Frank LoSchiavo, wrote in an article published in 2005 that when a professor inserted self-deprecating jokes, psychology-related cartoons and top 10 lists in an online introductory psychology course, their students logged onto the online learning system more and were more likely to enjoy the class. Cool. So widows like reading funny widow stuff.
A wee shot of the unfamiliar in your life is good for keeping your brain going.
Here’s another clever bloke: Larrey Dossey. He’s the author of The Power of Premonitions. I haven’t read it and, to be honest, don’t need to expose myself to anything which might stir up the suicide guilt shit again of “I wish I had, I should have done, I wish I’d seen…la, la, la, sob, snot” . Nevertheless, at least one other person has obligingly read this book and informed me (via Mr Google) that it cites studies that show ladies “who regularly engage in mini-mysteries … taking on novel experiences that get them out of familiar routines better preserve their mental faculties later in life.” It’s good to be nosey. Woohoo. Go spy on the neighbours and say it’s for medical reasons.
People like sex
I don’t think I need to back this one up with studies. The majority of people like a good fucking. They also like a good sex scandal. Note to self: have sex.
So where am I going with this hungover hazed spiel?
I want to drive more traffic to this blog. I also just like attention because my wife doesn’t give me any now that she’s dead. Did I mention that already? Ideally, someone will buy the rights to my story for a Netflix series and I can get revenge on all the people who have been shits to me, not to mention cast myself as the lead. Pick me, pick me!
When you’re a widow, any form of light relief is welcome. I’d say humour is far healthier than wine as a means of grief relief. Actually, I think that’s scientifically true. We wids also really don’t want to feel any more alone than we are – we bloody need every laugh we can get. Thus, with more self-deprecating jokes, yet an authentic account of my Chapter 2, more of you will engage with this blog and tell your friends.
For those of you who aren’t widowed (well done you!), widow things are fascinating. They’re particularly fascinating when you’re spying in on a twenty-something lesbian widowed by suicide who is exploring the wonders of Tinder and gallivanting across the world fueled by cocktails.
So basically, I’m going to spill the juicy details and hope that none of the people I write about, or my parents, ever catch a whiff of this blog.
Here’s a teaser so that you follow me and come back:
Last night, I sent a topless selfie to a boy widower.
I promise I’ll spill…