Sometimes you’re going along surviving French III, making headway with your parents to extend your curfew and next thing you know life is raining on your perfectly, poufy, hot-rolled hair. That’s how it seemed to me, at 16, when my sister’s life started spinning out of control toppling the rest of my family over with her.

Drug addiction is an ugly thing.

Screaming, emergency room visits, rehab, changing schools, yelling, rehab, calls from the police, running away, rehab, padlocks on bedroom doors, counseling, rehab… A joke developed around the house.

Me: Mom I can’t find the camera.
Mom: We used to have one.
Together: But it wasn’t nailed to the counter. {explosion of laughter}

An addict will pawn anything to get money for drugs, whether it belongs to them or not.

You might think we sound heartless having enjoyed a laugh while my sister was obviously suffering in such a profound way, but we had too. Daily life was too hard. We all spent so many days, months–shoot years–walking on egg shells, not knowing what would happen next, worrying that we knew what would, that we needed a little levity just to cope.

Humor is a tactic my family’s employed a number of times over the years to avoid drowning in the buckets of shit that have been poured over our heads. I think it’s why one of my favorite movie scenes is the one in Steel Magnolia’s when Sally Field is cursing the world over her daughter’s coffin and Olympia Dukakis offers up Shirly MacLaine’s face for a smack. The relief of laughter after heaving sobs is like a cleansing shower.

Life sucks at times and we all need a way to figure out how to keep going. And this is all a very long way of explaining why I nominated Kris from I’m Not a Girl, Not Yet a Wino for the October Perfect Post award. The woman understands the importance of a good laugh.