Ironic

Irony: a (1) : incongruity between the actual result of a sequence of events and the normal or expected result (2) : an event or result marked by such incongruity b : incongruity between a situation developed in a drama and the accompanying words or actions that is understood by the audience but not by the characters in the play —called also dramatic irony, tragic irony

One of the songs in pop culture that has always driven me crazy is Alanis Morrissette’s “Ironic.” In the song, she lists a number of events she claims as being annoyingly ironic. Yet in point of fact, the only thing that is annoying about this list is that none of the things are, in fact, ironic. “It’s like rain, on your wedding day. It’s a free ride, when you’ve already paid; it’s the good advice that you just didn’t take...”

Given our definition above (and I tend to trust my boy Meriam Webster), irony is not just having unfortunate events you’d like not to have happen, happen, but is instead when basically the exact opposite of what you expect to have happen, actually does. The events in this tune: Inconvenient? Yes. Annoying? Yes. But ironic? Not even close.

I used to get soo mad when I heard this song because the English geek in me found myself pleading with the radio: “But Alanis…those things aren’t ironic!” (I would scream this at the radio, by the way.) Who bases an entire song off of the misuse of a literary device? (Clearly, this is a rhetorical question...)

I’ve always been one to use irony in my writing and in my storytelling. Crushing people’s expectations can be fun. But not when you don’t do it right. Silly.

In every dating relationship, you finally get to the point at which you air all the dirty laundry: Not just sharing the exes and the childhood heartaches, but you start to reveal the little personal quirks…the “you’d-better-know-this-now-so-you-can-still-walk-out” type things. I of course clued J in to my big two-- my often quite unbearable stubbornness (pretty sure he’d already figured that out all by himself…) and the fact that seeing me cry holds absolutely no indication of how I’m actually feeling (I can seem like a cold, cold horrible person when the tears don’t come in very sad and serious situations…and I can cry for an hour after watching a Cosby Show repeat to which I have tied some ridiculous memory. Rhyme and reason, I have not.)

When it came J’s turn, I held my breath in anticipation. What could he possibly tell me? Very calmly and rationally, but with a great deal of seriousness, he turned to me and said “You should probably know, that irony follows me everywhere.”

Irony? That was the other shoe dropping? I gave him tears and stubbornness and he needed to tell me about the irony?

I remembered thinking it was sweet and funny and a little anticlimactic at the time. But being a lover of all things ironic, this merely endeared him more to me. He was ironic. How sweet! He had told me the opposite of what I had expected—ha HA! Irony again! I loved this game!

But here’s the thing. He wasn’t kidding.

I’ve never met another person on the planet that finds himself in ironic situations more. And true—it could be that we’re just hypersensitive and looking for it. But honestly, I don’t think that’s it. This kid is an irony magnet. And it would be amazing and hilarious to watch…if I wasn’t now almost always involved in it. (Curses!)

And thus, we come to tonight’s story.

I’m happy to say that we’re pretty sure that J is home within the week. He is definitely on his way, making the 5-6 day trek from one country to the next…from sleeping in one airport to the next airport, until finally he weaves his way home. In my head, I can see the old cartoon graphics from the Indiana Jones films where they drew little lines following the airplanes across maps of Europe and the Middle East as Indy made his way from one exotic locale to another (I’m positive J will not see his flight pattern with such romantic eyes.)

Yes friends, he’s in route home. Thank God. Close to three weeks before we thought he would be. I’m so excited that I can hardly stand it. And yet…what does this blessed event of his early return bring to us?

On Friday of this week, I leave for a 9 day business trip to Shanghai. Yes. That’s right. It was supposed to happen right BEFORE J's return...something to keep me distracted in the final days and weeks of his deployment. Instead? Just about the time J is putting his feet back on US soil after a year-long deployment, I’ll be leaving to fly literally halfway around the world.

I’ll let that sink in for ya.

After a series of deep breaths, long sighs, and (not surprisingly) some tears on my part (those were actually real ones), we both just sorta had to shrug. Nothing either one of us can do to change our job schedules. No getting out of it or rushing it or hurrying or delaying. It is what it is, and we just have to learn how to roll with it (this, by the way, could be my Army wife manta…)

“So, I’ll not have facebook there since I’m pretty sure it’s illegal. And I might have hit or miss internet. I’ll have my cell phone, but it will cost a lot and it will probably be bad reception, so maybe just a minute or two a day. But I think we can text, and as soon as I find a…”

J just started laughing. “Listen to us. Is this REALLY the conversation we’re having?”

It was almost identical to the one we had had in the first week when he went Over There and we were trying to figure out how we’d be communicating from halfway around the world.

“Is this really happening? Are you REALLY going to be home almost two weeks before I get to see you?”

“Irony, baybay. Irony.”

While it doesn’t really rhyme, Alanis, you might consider something like this for your song next time: “It’s like sending your significant other to a war zone halfway around the world for a year only to leave to go halfway around the world yourself on the day he gets home thus prolonging the time apart in an annoying and painful fashion.”

Now THAT’S ironic. Don’t ya think?