Comic Relief: A love letter to funny women

To the women of comedy who have so inspired me: 

I must start with an apology. Recently, my column has not given you the respect and space you so deserve. As much as I may enjoy the work of those men, it is you who I admire, you who comfort me on a hard day, you who remind me I am not alone. 

While I may make the occasional meninist joke, those are just jokes. I repeat: My claim to be a meninist is a joke! It’s for laughs, for kicks, for giggles. I know that you understand that, and you understand me. You would never question the bit.

Comedy is a way to make friends, pass the time, brighten up the day and cope with the world. None of this would be possible without you. The comedy world is a harsh one, especially for women. I want you to know that your bravery in putting yourself out there does not go unnoticed. To provide the world with joy through humor, you must withstand incredible opposition. Thank you for doing so.

Although there are women everywhere who deserve a shoutout, I want to pay homage to a special few that keep me committing to the bit. 

To Jennette McCurdy, the first person I can remember finding funny: Thank you for introducing me to an entirely new world of hilarity. “iCarly” may have introduced me to you, but I am so grateful to see you get recognized for more. “I’m Glad My Mom Died” was the book of 2022. Your ability to never lose the humor when writing about incredibly vulnerable topics proves the power of comedy. Your literary achievement is one few will ever achieve, and I can’t wait to see what you do next. 

To Melissa Villaseñor, the first Latina on “Saturday Night Live”: Thank you for opening the door for a hopefully much brighter “SNL” future. The memory of watching you do your wonderfully quirky thing at Largo at the Coronet is one I will always cherish. Thank you for using that space to shine a light on Latinas who also deserve their spotlight in the comedy world. Your performance was a highlight of my semester — even though Bill Burr bailed. I was there for you anyways. 

To Chelsea Peretti, truly one of the greats: Thank you for being the best sitcom character of the 2010s. Gina Linetti is the state of mind I try to emulate daily. When I’m down in the dumps, spiraling into a pit of self loathing, I remind myself that Linetti would never let her insecurities stop her from doing anything. Sure, it may border on obnoxious delusion, but who’s to say I’m not also one of the greats? Tackling the day ahead becomes just a little bit more manageable thanks to your work.

To Janelle James, the next sitcom great: Thank you for carrying on the legacy of unwaveringly confident sitcom women. Peretti couldn’t have passed her crown to anybody better. Ava Coleman knows she is the shit. I can see a future where more women can live their Ava Coleman truth, a truth of unapologetic self-assurance. Arrogance is something to be wary of, but Coleman can get a pass thanks to your incredibly loveable portrayal.

To Rose Matafeo, a fellow flat-footed icon: Thank you for your painfully raw relatability. That mirror is not always flattering, but the moments of self-reflection you have provided me are invaluable. Your openness about your obsessive tendencies make me feel less alone. Honestly, everything you do makes me feel less alone. Thanks for just being truly you — the incredibly cool and the not-so cool. 

To Ego Nwodim, one of my favorite “SNL” cast members of all time and a fellow Trojan: Thank you for making those weekly 90 minutes slightly more bearable. Even though I have watched every show in the past 18 seasons, I’m not sure I could carry on without your ability to save floundering sketches. You stay committed to the bit, and I admire you for it. Fight on, Ego.

To Catherine Cohen, my fabulous inspiration: Thank you for being unapologetically obnoxious. You already got an ode from me, but I know you would want more. You deserve more. You deserve the world for the lessons in complete self-confidence you have given me. 

To Fern Brady, the “rightful queen” of both “Taskmaster” and my heart: Thank you for providing me with a multitude of clips that will never fail to make me laugh. No matter how soul crushing my day was, hearing you exclaim “oh no” in your Scottish accent lifts me up. But, most importantly, thank you for your bravery in destigmatizing autism. “Strong Female Character,” the title of your brilliant memoir, doesn’t even begin to describe you.

To Judi Love, for your wonderfully captivating persona: Thank you for your presence in the British comedy world. Thank you for using your platform to bring attention to the misogynoir rampant in society. “Judi Love: Black, Female and Invisible” is one of the finest productions from Channel 4 in a while. You’ve quickly climbed your way to the top of my comedian list. Any time I see you on a panel show lineup, I know it’s one worth watching. You’ve managed to break into my top five “The Big Fat Quiz of the Year” contestants — an incredibly challenging feat that you seemed to do easily. 

And, to all the women I didn’t name: to my wonderful friends, to my mother, to my tías — I love you. 

Thank you for everything. 

Kimberly Aguirre is a sophomore writing about comedy. Her column, “Comic Relief,” runs every other Thursday. She is also the arts & entertainment editor at the Daily Trojan.