Laughter is the Best Medicine

Unlike what our oh-so-chipper friend, Morreal, tirelessly attempted to get across to us, I strongly believe in the benefits and innocence of laughter. Laughter doesn't always have to be spiteful, or make us feel superior; sometimes it is just about the connection to other people that it brings, and can be a much needed relief. Morreal obviously did not have a sense of humor, unless the title of his book was supposed to be ironic, and if so, touché sir, touché. 

The best laughter always manages to come at times it is most needed. This definitely occurred to me a couple of weeks ago. After consciously waiting for a "fit of uncontrollable laughter," I finally had an experience that deserved this title. In fact, this wasn't just a few minutes span, but seemed to be carried through an entire evening. Right smack in the middle of one of the most stressful/sleepless weeks this semester, following a particularly nerve-wracking night of house searching, my roommates and I decided that there was no better way to forget about our current struggles than to indulge in the exquisite Mexican cuisine that is Fuzzy's. We all share the same belief that food can be quite the antidote for any emotional strife. 

It didn't take us very long after sitting down to our savory feast for most of the tension that had built up in each of us over the week to be completely dispelled. I can hardly remember anything that we actually talked about; only the scene of us all splitting with laughter in the middle of Fuzzy's remains vivid in my mind. It mainly consisted of two of us partaking in our usual, ridiculous banter, while the other just humored us, as she always does, along with the telling of one of those "you'll laugh about this later" embarrassing stories from elementary school that was definitely not the most suitable for the dinner table, especially at such a fine establishment. It must have been the delirium from both mental and physical exhaustion we were each experiencing that made everything just so darn funny. The tears streaming from my eyes, I believe, were due to a combination of relief that it was still possible to find anything this funny after all the stress had been compressing any form of happiness, along with quite a bit of "I can't believe this conversation is happening." I'm pretty sure this was exactly what we all needed most at that point in time, just a little bit of insanity to regain our sanity. 

If the episode at dinner wasn't enough, we found ourselves in these fits again a few hours later back in the room. We were attempting to have a semi-serious meeting about future living situations, when we lost our wits once again. The same two of us went completely awol again, while the other sat there questioning her decision of agreeing to live with us not only one year, but two. There was ridiculous hollering, many thrown items (with even more missing their intended targets, if that were even possible), and quite a bit of creative name-calling that we were actually pretty proud of. This was surprisingly not a rare occurrence in Room 314, but this time did seem more entertaining than most. There was a pause in the outrageous warfare to examine a pained wrist of the one-third that was not partaking in the ruckus. After thorough examination, we established that the ailing region might have been slightly out of place. With my extensive knowledge in the field of health care, being a second year neuroscience major and all, I suggested that she (currently on the verge of throwing up due to her squeamishness) should bang it on something to knock it back into its usual position. And so began a very careful and delicate series of yanks, slams, and squeezes. Why she permitted us to conduct these obviously accredited medical procedures, I couldn't tell ya. As we were performing these complex and strenuous operations in attempts to salvage the critically wounded wrist, there was a knock at the door, and a group of our guy friends stumbled in. After initial confusion about the chaotic scene they walked into, they each caught sight of the source of all the shenanigans, and were all just as disturbed at the appearance of the wrist as the one it belonged to. So we have one girl who is basically green in the face from the apparently nauseating sight of her wrist; four, usually known for being crass, boys, also about to pass out; and the two other girls who are having just a field day battering this poor, aching joint. It was quite the sight for sore eyes, to say the least. This was then followed by some more horseplay between the two overly-hyper residents, of which (between the immature jeers thrown and overall rowdiness) resembled roughhousing of two 7 year-old boys more so than that of two female college sophomores. The cowering guys, who were used to engaging in this type of behavior themselves, were dumbfounded by this spectacle, which made this situation even more amusing. Might I add that this was the boys' first visit to our oh-so-humble abode...

Overall, it was definitely quite the night of nuttiness. Between the relief of us being able to go insane on our own terms, and the incongruity of our actions versus the boys' reactions, I'd say we experienced innocent comic relief at its finest, regardless of what Morreall would drone on about it. This night of tomfoolery was just what we needed in order to avoid self-destructing, as laughter was indeed the best medicine to cure all (minus the wounded wrist) of our troubles. 





This novel of a blog post was brought to you by Monster Absolutely Zero energy drink and Blue Bell Pecan Pralines n' Cream ice cream.