Okay, so I realize this is a photo with no humans in it, but if you don't realize what it is, it is blurry a picture of an airplane wing with frost on the window. It is supposed to be a video, but apparently I fail at technology and could not get the proper format of the video embedded in this post.

Now for the backstory of the photo supposed to be video. I traveled home on Thursday and on my flight from DFW to Salt Lake, I planned on trying to find people laughing. Turns out, it is extremely hard to find people laughing in an airport at 6 AM on a busy travel day. However, once on the plane, I got the perfect opportunity. I shared a row with a mom and her three kids. All of the kids were probably below the age of ten. By the end of the flight, all three of them began to get pretty restless. The youngest brother would touch the sisters face while sleeping and the other boy kept taking the youngest's stuffed animal to get a rise out of the youngest. By the end of the flight, there laughter and squeals could be heard through out the plane. The mom, who was sitting next to me, started to panic as she became embarrassed of her children's volume. I understand her embarrassment, but the children were not fighting and just trying to make a stressful day more fun. Meanwhile, all the rest of the adults on the plane looked exhausted and worn out. Here is a perfect example of how it is easier for children to laugh and adults to just stay frustrated.

If the video would have worked, you could hear the children giggling and their mom softly scolding them. Overall they were a nice family and I didn't want to try to film them directly, so that is why I filmed the window as we landed in hopes to hear their conversation.

A time when I was afraid...

      SPOILER ALERT IF YOU HAVE NEVER SEEN STAR WARS
  The prompt is actually quite relevant to my life right now. Last night, I watched the Sixth Episode of Star Wars for the first time. A few weeks ago, I mentioned to my roommate that I had never seen any of the Star Wars movies. If you do not know my roommate, you should probably know that her texting ringtone is literally the sound R2D2 makes. I would put her about ten levels above a serious Star Wars fan. When she found out I had never seen the movies, she called me “uncultured” and decided the next few weeks before the new movie would be devoted to watching all six previous movies. When I enthusiastically agreed to watch them, I did not realize that each movie was over two hours long. After arguing with two other friends on whether to watch the first three episodes first or last, we officially decided to start with Episode One and finish with Episode Six (a decision we ended up regretting later on in the process). By Episode One, I fell in love with the precious child version of Anakin Skywalker. In Episode Two, I grew to appreciate Padme Amidala and Anakin as a couple even though it took me awhile to get over the age difference. In Episode Three, I decided that I fully supported Padme and Anakin’s relationship and balled my eyes out when Anakin turned to the dark side and became Darth Vader. For the next trilogy, I sat on the edge of my seat as I cheered Luke on and prayed that he and Leia never get together because that would be so awkward due to the whole being twins but not knowing thing. I smiled when Luke discovered Yoda, the little green elf-thing, because love Yoda, how do you not? My friends yelled at me when I referred to Darth Vader as Anakin because I still believed he had the good side in him even though they told me he would never be good again, such liars. Every episode had been a rollercoaster of emotions for me, so when I finally made it to the final episode, I knew it would be a rough, but a thrilling two hours. The whole movie was fine until it got to the point where Yoda died. Honestly, how dare George Lucas? Yoda made Star Wars. You do not just kill off the best Jedi in the galaxy and expect an inexperienced Luke to take over. I cried. When Luke ended up facing his father, I actually lost it. I was so scared the entire time because I was under the impression that either Luke dies or he has to kill Anakin (Darth Vader), none of which I wanted to see. When I was watching the scene, I was holding my friend’s new puppy, Murphy, and my friends had to take Murphy away in case I accidentally hurt it out of the stress I was experiencing. It got to the point where the Emperor was killing Luke and I panicked because I could not see how this would end well. You can imagine my surprise and pure joy when Darth Vader found his good side and returned to Anikan by killing the Emperor and saving Luke. I actually cried, because that was all I wanted. Actually I wanted Padme, Anakin, Luke, and Leia to all be a happy family, but I will settle for Darth Vader becoming good again out of the love for his son (my theory is that he actually became good out of his love for Padme). Overall, I loved the Star Wars series, and I realize that I probably should have spent the twelve hours studying for my Interest Theory exam or even writing these blogs instead of watching the movies, but I will blame that one on my parents for not introducing me to Star Wars early on in life. At least my roommate now thinks I am cultured. People say that I can sometimes become too attached to characters, and being that scared during Star Wars is probably unreasonable, but why not let myself have a little imagination and fun? You will find me in line for the next Star Wars movie. May the force be with you. 

Something that I broke...

            In high school, I would not describe myself as popular or even remotely close to that kind of status. In all honesty, I could have cared less. I had my close best friends and they were all I needed to be happy. In my high school, your status was determined by if your parents were both rich enough and neglectful enough to let you throw huge parties at your house. These parties consisted of a bunch of dumb teenagers unable to control or handle even a sip of alcohol. I was way too busy to go to any of these being a three-sport varsity athlete with four AP classes. Also my parents were extremely strict. For the most part, I did not have any interest either because my friends and I saw the facade behind these parties and were much more content with going to concerts downtown and eating tater-tots and our favorite restaurant on a Saturday night. However, junior year, one of my really close friends threw one of these parties and instantly became the most popular kid in class. With that popularity, he pretty much cut the rest of us out of his life and stopped talking to us. As hurt as I was about the whole event, I became curious as to what was so great about these parties and began to think that maybe I was missing out on something.

            During my junior year, my brother transferred to a boarding school in Idaho. My parents went to go visit him often, which left me home alone on many weekends. I really enjoyed this time alone in my house because I got to make my own dinner and blare music throughout my whole house. One weekend, my friend Jackie pointed out that I was missing out on an extremely obvious opportunity. I needed to throw a house party. My curiosity around these parties kicked into full gear as we planned for an epic party at my house when my parents were in Idaho. We invited all of my friends, all of the “cool” people at my school, and pretty much everyone who went to the public school in my neighborhood. Everyone was so excited for the party and I started to see the fun behind it. We planned a whole excuse as to why Jackie had to spend the night at my house, so neither of our parents were suspicious. The plan was quite flawless. We bought snacks, planned on taking people’s keys at the door (we were responsible people), and had one of my wealthy older neighbors bringing an appropriate amount of alcohol. Finally, I could be like my friend who had moved up on the social ladder. Around thirty minutes before the party, I received a call from my dad. I answered just expecting it to be him checking in, but immediately he said “you about ready for the party you are going to throw in thirty minutes?” I froze inside and immediately knew the trouble I was going to be in. Apparently my friend Savannah did not realize this party was a secret so she told her mom. Her mom texted my mom asking if Savannah could bring any food for the overnight party. My dad had already called Jackie’s parents and they were on the way to come get us and lock up our house so no one could get inside. I had to text everyone that could possibly have been invited that it was over. Turns out about thirty people still showed up to my dead and dark house. I broke my parents trust that weekend and even though that was a terrible thing to experience, going to school the next Monday and being known as the girl who “tried to throw a party, but failed miserably” was also a real bummer. A few weeks later I even went to one of these infamous parties and it ended up being one of my most boring nights of high school. It took me breaking my parents trust and embarrassing myself to realize who I was. I am a girl who does not need alcohol to make friends and memories. Savannah, who spoiled my party, turned out to be one of my closest friends still to this day. We laugh about that night and I thank her every time for telling her mom because honestly my house would have been trashed. We both realized that our friendship is more important than putting out a fake image. Sometimes breaking thinks can be good. 

A time when I observed hateful injustice or prejudice...

            In high school, most of our All Student Body (ASB) executive team was made up of guys. You would get the occasional female on the team, but that was usually because she was extremely popular. It frustrated because a lot of my qualified female friends who had such big and great plans for the school would run, but would never be voted in. Most of them knew by running that they would not win because my class would only elect the funniest speech and everyone in my class believed that girls just simply are not funny. First of all, this whole process is ridiculous because we should not be voting in the funniest person, but we should be voting in the person who will put the most effort into their job. During my freshman year, we voted in Jason. Although I grew up with him and he is one of my good friends, his entire speech was on the downfalls of being Asian with “tiger parents.” Apparently, this kind of humor appealed to my predominately white class. I believe the Superiority Theory of humor was at work in this scenario. He had no plans for the future of our high school, but his self-deprecating humor landed him as the President of our entire high school. I wonder how he felt when he realized that he truly only got votes by making fun of his race, family, and heritage. Probably not too good. The fact that my class thought this was even remotely close to okay is beyond me. The second part of the ASB process that frustrated me was that all of the men in our class constantly commented on how females “just are not funny.” Excuse me! Amy Schumer, Amy Poehler, Sarah Siverman, Ellen DeGeneres, Mindy Kaling, Melissa McCarthy, and Kristen Wiig just to name a few of the thousands of funny and brilliant women that have blessed this world. A group of people judged someone on not being funny before they even got to the podium. If they were a female, they were automatically not funny and no one listened to what they had to say. The saddest part of all of this is that even some of my girlfriends fell into this mindset and would discount a female classmate because she just was not funny. I honestly felt like I would have been a good candidate, but I was too scared to run because I knew that people would only judge be based on my gender and ability to make people laugh. When did humor become about gender and why do we have the perception that men are funnier than women?

            We should never have to tear-ourselves a part or be a certain type of person to get people to laugh and like us. Humor should be about inclusiveness. Humor should be about bringing a large group of people together to relate to something. Humor should never be used to segregate. As much as my high school taught me and prepared me, it was a community of segregation. Boys were “popular” based on if they could make people laugh and girls were “popular” based on their looks. Humor is unique to the individual and thus should not be used to determine the status of one person to another. Men are often portrayed to be the “jokesters” of the class, but when did we stop telling girls that they cannot be funny too? Women have always been told to be polite and indirectly this has come out as us not speaking our minds and being funny will offend others. I often laugh more at females anyways because they often use humor and do not offend anyone in the process. This is why I respect female comedians because they have penetrated a world where they are not theoretically meant to be funny. From now on, can we please just tell our daughters that they have every right and the ability to be just as funny as the boy sitting next to them in class? 

Uncontrollable Laughter 2

I found Literature and Civilization II extremely interesting because we focused on something that we took for granted every day. Laughter is a huge part of my life and honestly, I find that a person’s sense of humor directly relates to their personality. However, I never gave much thought to why I laugh at specific things when other people do not find them funny. I just assumed it was some random function of the brain and too complex for me to understand. The class taught me that humor truly is complex because so much of it depends on culture and our perceptions of the world, but there are basic reasons or theories as to why humans laugh. Now that I have taken the class, whenever I laugh I always try to relate it back to some theory or try to figure out why I actually think that it is funny. I have realized that I laugh at some things because others are laughing, but I do not truly think they are funny. I have also grown to truly appreciate some of the things that I think are extremely funny. One of those things would the television show The Office. When I kept trying to find a time that I laughed uncontrollably, my mind kept going back to any time I watched an episode of The Office, so I decided to cave and write about why I think The Office is my favorite TV show. 

If you know me well, you would probably know that I hold a deep obsession for The Office. I started watching the television show in middle school and I have probably seen every episode at least four times. Keep in mind that there are 201 episodes of the office. That is roughly 308 hours of my life dedicated to this show. It is the only show that I can re-watch episodes and still laugh out loud and the only show where I balled like a baby during the finale. Now that I have established my obsession of the show in it, let me tell you what this class has taught me about my love for an office with just fifteen main characters.

            
Most television shows include people with extravagant and complex lives that as an ordinary person, I find really hard to relate to. The Office, however, is a show that documents the lives of about fifteen ordinary people who work in a paper distributor office. It cannot get more ordinary than that. The Office’s premise is the sarcasm of ordinary life. It takes people with basic lives, but with weird quirks and exaggerates how people live ordinarily. Although I have never worked in an office, I still found a lot of the sarcasm hilarious and relateable. A lot of the people think Michael Scott, the boss of the office, has very sexist and racist jokes. I agree that his jokes definitely have that undertone, but that The Office executes them in a way that sarcastically pokes fun at idiot people who make those jokes in real life because we all know someone who finds offensive things funny. No one in the office agrees with Michael’s jokes and in fact most of jokes offend someone in the office, so by exaggerating his actions they sarcastically portray a person people often hate being around.

 Ask me who my favorite character in The Office is and I will probably never give you a straight answer because I would honestly feel bad for not naming one of the characters as my favorite. If my life depended on who my favorite character is, however, I would have to choose Jim. Out of everyone in the office, Jim would probably be the most normal. He is the one who falls for the receptionist, Pam, plays constant pranks on his desk mate, Dwight, and is known as the “attractive” one in the office with nothing going for him. Jim’s normalcy makes everyone else seem like a complete wackjob in The Office. He is what you would call a fish out of water. By being the normal person in The Office who always tries to do the right thing, everyone’s quirks and annoyances are highlighted and even more humorous. Jim is known for that stare into the camera with a little shake of his head when someone does something ridiculous making the ridiculous thing even way funnier. When his eccentric coworkers put him into uncomfortable situations, his reactions and how he deals with them make the show because we can all relate to being the normal one, even if we are the eccentric one. Overall, The Office is a show that makes you fall in love with every character no matter how annoying they can be. I followed their lives to the end and saw a piece of myself in every single one of them. Yes, I cry at the last scene where they all come back to The Office for one final time, but that is because every character taught me some sort of lesson during the 201 episodes. It will forever be favorite show.

Learning Experience 4

            I often think one of the most fascinating parts of humor and comedy is the paradox behind them. Some of the most brilliant comedians often deal with intense depression. Although we often view laughter as being happy, laughter often comes from a much darker place. One of the more recent examples would be Robin Williams. He was a heart-warming man who knew how to make every generation laugh and smile. Unfortunately, he committed suicide just over a year ago. When I first heard the devastating news, I questioned how someone with so much liveliness on film could be so torn apart inside. Now I am not naïve to think that people’s characters on television directly relate to their personal lives, but I would think that a person who has a job specifically to bring people joy would be joyful as well. I believe the Relief Theory plays a large role in why comedians often deal with depression. The Relief Theory states that people use humor as a means to relieve tension. Comedians can use humor as a means to deal with their internal struggles, however humor does not truly fix the issue. The comedian may go up on stage or on film for an immediate relief, but after the audience laughs and they leave, their problems still exist. In order to truly fix depression, one needs intimate human contact. Although an audience might seem like a form of human contact, an audience is only a façade. An audience only sees an actor on stage and does not understand the internal struggles of the person standing in front of them. Audiences go to shows or watch movies for a laugh, not to uncover someone’s personal problems. The removal of the audience from the performer is the reason why so many people were shocked when Robin Williams passed away. On film, people perceived him as a happy and lively man, but never understood his deeper pain. Although comedians may use the Relief Theory to drive their comedy, they only experience a limited form of relief and do not find a long term solution to their pain.

            Although comedy can be entertaining, the comedian will always sacrifice a part of themselves to be at the service of other’s joy. Comedy then becomes extremely dangerous for the comedian because the audience will only see the “actor” or the fake self and the comedian becomes stuck in a world that does not know his or her true self. When Robin Williams died, President Obama sent his condolences to the Williams family by saying:

“Robin Williams was an airman, a doctor, a genie, a nanny, a president, a professor, a bangarang Peter Pan, and everything in between. But he was one of a kind. He arrived in our lives as an alien – but he ended up touching every element of the human spirit. He made us laugh. He made us cry. He gave his immeasurable talent freely and generously to those who needed it most – from our troops stationed abroad to the marginalized on our own streets.”

Although I understand where Obama was coming from by making this statement, it is important to remember that Robin Williams was never just a character. Williams was a misunderstood man who dealt with real human problems and depression. I believe that people’s purpose in life should never just be for the entertainment of others. Individual needs should always come first, and unfortunately we only chose to perceive Williams as the characters he performed and not the actual man himself. Comedy is a gift and enjoyable, but we must remember that the person performing is more than the character on stage. Robin Williams sacrificed a vital part of himself, his happiness, in order to make the rest of the world happy. As noble as that sound, it should never come to that point. 

The view from my bedroom window...

            My bedroom view required me to cover it with curtains. During my sophomore year of high school, my family moved to a different house in Portland that was in an extremely wooded neighborhood. In fact, it did not really seem like a neighborhood at all, but rather our house isolated in the middle of a dark, creepy, and wet wooded area. To make, matters even more depressing, my room was alone in the basement looking out into a forest. Now it may seem like I am setting this up to be a horror story, and that is true because this is a horror story. At first, I honestly thought I lucked out on getting the room in the basement because of more privacy that would allow me to play loud music, but three months into living in the house, I realized that I made a mistake that would haunt me for the next three years. One day, a friend of mine from the area was talking to me about how a man was found dead in the woods right outside my room. At first, I totally thought he was joking because this friend typically messed with me. When I asked his father, however, he confirmed that a neighborhood kid actually found the dead man and had to go to counseling for years to get over the incident. Still in disbelief that I was living in a house potentially haunted by a dead man that died right outside my room, I decided to do more reach. Unfortunately, the internet only confirmed what I did not want to be true. A man was found dead right by my room, but even creepier, he was found dead with no lacerations or any kind proof of murder or suicide. It was as if he just went, laid down, and died there. Although he most likely overdosed on something, I still think it is the creepiest thing ever. For fear of seeing his ghost outside my window, I closed my curtains and never once opened them again for the rest of the three years I lived in that house.  

            Actually, I think once during senior I opened the curtains because I wanted some sunshine, but then quickly closed them when the menacing woods reminded me of what happened. I have always been one to let my imagination get the best of me. I know deep down that his ghost would never have greeted me at the window, but I processed the actually quite sad event as fear. I let a man’s unfortunate ending that happened years ago escalate in my mind and keep me isolated in a dark room for years. Now that I am living in Texas, a place without towering pine trees and deep forests, all I want is the view from my old bedroom. To be honest, I truly do not even know what it looks like, but I imagine it all the time. My family recently moved to Idaho, but when we visited Portland over Thanksgiving, we drove through my old neighborhood. All I could think about was how I shut myself out from such beauty for so many years. I realized that I let a nonexistent fear control my life. Part of growing up is differentiating between real and non-real fear. Although it took me awhile to realize how childish I had been in that house, I now know to evaluate the fears that I have. Fear often disguises itself as something that does not exist. I try not to waste my life on fake fear now, but I still run into it from time to time. 

Learning Experience 3

            One of my favorite projects during the year was the presentation we had to do on humor in different countries. I not only enjoyed researching my own assigned country, the Czech Republic, but also listening to different presentations. The fact that humor differs so vastly between countries surprised me. I have become so accustomed to American humor that, I forget different kinds of humor exist. I love to travel because it forces me to remember that the world is a huge place with an infinite amount of perspectives. When our groups came up with different countries for the presentations, I knew right away that I wanted to do mine on the Czech Republic because I had traveled to Prague during the summer. I have been fortunate to travel to many places and to experience all sorts of cultures, but the humor in the Czech Republic differed by far the most from American humor. Before the week spent in Prague, we were in Budapest which is ranked as one of the friendliest cities in the world. In fact, most of the Eastern European countries had extremely friendly cultures, so I had expected the same from Prague. I was dead wrong. Almost immediately after stepping off the train, our tour guide warned us that if someone offended us not to take it personally because Czech people are known for being rude and upfront. Her heeding proved to be correct as the first Czech person I greeted and smiled at gave me a funny look and totally blew me off.

            Throughout the week there, however, I began to learn why the people of the Czech Republic have such frank attitudes and I began to grow an immense appreciation for the culture. When someone mentions the Czech Republic in America, most people think of a small country in Eastern Europe that does not offer much. I can assume this, because I thought the exact same thing before my trip. I now like to think of Prague as the hidden gem of Europe, but in reality it is a country that has been controlled, bullied, and put through the wringer. Intersected in both World Wars, the people of the Czech have been controlled by both Nazi and Communist regimes. These long periods of despair have left the Czech people with distrusting and pessimistic attitudes. From these attitudes, however, emerged a nation of sarcasm. The Czech people have used their humor as a defense mechanism against disappointment. Hanka, our tour guide, told us that the people do not engage in small talk or smile back because even those gestures push them to expect too much out of the world and others. Upon first glance, many people may think the hard shell of the Czech people is a depressing result of a violent history, but I grew to believe that they their pessimistic attitudes has allowed them a more realistic view of the world. Many of the people there have embraced a unique sense of individualism because they can truly only rely on themselves. This can be seen in their distaste for any form of government, the John Lennon wall used for the freedom of expression, and many of David Cerny’s sarcastic statues. The John Lennon wall is much more than a spot to take Instagram phots. It is a place where the people of Prague regained their freedom of expression. They spray painted hidden messages during times of oppression and today it is used as a place for people to come spray paint whatever they feel like. The Czech people are not afraid to say exactly what is on their mind which is why a lot of their humor has offended many cultures. However, their sarcastic humor has also protected them during times of despair. Being cynical about everything and keeping expectations low is not the Czechs being negative, but instead preventing disappointment. 

Cultural Conversation 2

Unfortunately, Debora, my conversation partner from Brazil did not respond to my requests to grab a second lunch. Fortunately, I have had many humorous and not so humorous experiences with people whose first language is not English. For the rest of my five blogs on my conversation partner, I will instead be writing about other conversations I have had with people of different backgrounds and cultures. For my first experience I am going to talk about my interactions with a young woman named Olga. Okay, from first glance, you are probably picturing Olga with blond braids and dressed in lederhosen. However, Olga is not from an isolated town in the mountains of Germany, she is from Mumbai, India, a city with over twelve million people. Olga, a name chosen upon her arrival to the United States, grew up in India and moved to Fort Worth for the TCU Masters of Business Administration program. I first met Olga at a speaker event on campus and she immediately introduced herself. I talked with her for a second time two months later. I was with my dad at a football game when I heard her thick Indian accent over the crowd. This time, I immediately turned around to greet her and sure enough she remembered me.

Even though I have only had minimal interaction with Olga, I would like to say that I have developed a connection with her. At first it was easy because many of my friends growing up were from India due to Intel and Nike hiring their Indian parents. I experienced a lot with the culture and even went to many of my friends Hindu celebrations. Within in Olga’s and mine first conversation, I probably asked fifty questions trying to find ways to relate to her. She loved that my favorite food is the yellow curry my friend’s mom makes and that I had worn a sari for a celebration. We talked about how Northern India is completely different from Southern India and how I see big differences between the North and South of the United States. We laughed that the major differences rarely seem to be between the East and the West. We opened up about moving to a place where we knew no one and how much we miss our families. I expressed jealousy over how large her family is back home while mine is extremely small. We both believe we are from the most beautiful places in the world, so we decided that she has to go to Oregon one day and that I have to go to India. She asked about sororities and laughed when I tried to explain them because she thought they sounded ridiculous, but a lot of fun at the same time. I am starting to question sororities myself because every foreign person I explain them to thinks they are the most bizarre concepts. Even though we grew up in different worlds, we share many similarities. We are both Christian women interested in business for similar reasons. We both somehow ended up in Texas and we both truly have no idea what we are doing with our lives even though we like to seem as if we have it all together.

I am so thankful that Olga came up and introduced herself. Sometimes bravery is key to creating relationships you can truly learn from. I have the tendency to go talk to people who I know that I will feel comfortable with, but those people almost never teach me as much as people who I would not talk to on a normal day. I probably would not have thought to sit next to her during the event if she had not come up to me. We have to take chances to meet different kinds of people and we will discover more about ourselves that way. I learned a lot about a place I have never been and a lifestyle I am not used to in just a little over a half an hour of talking. I feel like I am always reminding myself that the world is huge, so why limit myself with who I interact with? I did not only get a new LinkedIn friend (she added me) out of Olga, but also a chance to learn just a little bit more about the world. Okay, this might all sound a little Eat Love Pray, but I believe stepping out of your comfort zone will bring you more knowledge, laughter, and a desire to want more. 

Learning Experience 2

              One of my favorite days this year was when we had two members of Senseless Acts of Comedy come in. I have only seen the improv show twice, but each time I am falling out of my seat in laughter. I am amazed about how my peers can be so funny and creative at the drop of a hat. I have been to a few professional improv shows, and the shows SAC puts on were way better than any of those shows. Although that probably has a lot to do with the members of SAC being my age and using references only TCU students would understand, I still believe the students are much funnier than many professionals. The fact that both of the students had different paths of developing their skills fascinated me. They said that anyone can be funny and partake in improv, but it takes the specific ability of letting go of fears and reservations to be good at improv. I believe every word of that. In middle school, I took an improv class. I would like you to imagine me at the peak of my awkward stage getting up on a stage in front of classmates I was trying to impress and doing improv. It was not pretty. I hated every second of that class. I dreaded being called on to perform and I would stand there shaking as I tried to come up with the most generic scenes so I would not make a complete fool of myself. Sort of to how Michael Scott always commits to being a double agent with a gun during his improv class in The Office, I always committed to petting or walking a dog because everyone likes dogs.  

            Although I have not performed improv sense the dreadful years of middle school, I would like to believe I would be much better at improv today. It took me pretty much all of high school and parts of freshman year to feel fully comfortable in my skin and to let go of constantly trying  not to make myself look ridiculous. Even though I am nowhere near as insecure as I was seven years ago, I still struggle with insecurities every day. I truly admire people like the two SAC students and how they can just let go of their insecurities on stage. That is a skill that takes dedication to develop. Throughout this year we have talked about benefits of humor and I think an important one is the ability to laugh at yourself. People who are so kept up in maintaining an appearance cannot let go and embrace their true selves. For those out there who transitioned from a period of insecurity to an era of unwavering self-assurance, is being confident not the most freeing feeling? We all must learn at one point to just sit down and laugh at natural human stupidity. The first time I learned to laugh at myself, I realized that I am a human, just like every other human on this earth. I also discovered that I do a lot of good things too because I stopped getting so caught up on all of my mistakes. I know we all sort of hated on the superiority theory in class, and for the most part I am not a fan of the theory, but the theory holds some truth. When we laugh at others for silly errors, we must learn to laugh at ourselves as well. I laugh at a guy slipping on ice in a Speedo not only because I am happy that is not me, but also because I realize that I could probably do something just as idiotic. We all have our little flaws and instead of letting them hold us back, we should just laugh and move on. Finding my humor shaped who I am today and allowed me to be a much more confident person. Now if only I could turn back time, and brave the middle school improv class today.

Learning Experience 1

              Trying to come up with a learning experience can be hard. Not because I lack them, but because I have so many of them daily. For this learning experience, I decided to do what any young person living in the twenty-first century would do. I began to surf the web. I typed in humor into my Tumblr search bar. As I scrolled, all I seemed to find were dumb memes that related to small groups of people and a bunch of random pictures of cats doing funny things. None of these helped me come up with a valid learning experience. I finally scrolled past something worthwhile, a quote from Charlie Chaplin the king of slapstick comedy. Chaplin once said, “My pain may be the reason for somebody’s laugh. But my laugh must never be the reason for somebody’s pain.” I believe that Chaplin’s moto exemplifies what it means to be a true comedian and relates well to what we have discussed in class. A comedian in many ways is someone who sacrifices a part of themselves to bring joy to others. In Chaplin’s case, he sacrificed his safety and willingly humiliated himself to put a smile on people’s faces. Some comedians risk making fools of themselves to get people to laugh. I personally think that risking a part of yourself is a much more honorable form of comedy than just simply putting people down and risking someone else’s reputation for a laugh. When I started discerning between “honorable” comedy and “dishonorable” comedy, I stopped finding the offensive humor funny. I see offensive humor now as just a lack of effort and an easy route to getting a few laughs that tears people apart on the way there. I believe people should be selective about humor. What people find funny says a lot about their character. I pride myself on my sense of humor and I respect people who have different senses of humor. Humor makes this world diverse. A true comedian obviously wants people to find them funny, but what they really want is for people to relate and find importance in their deeper message. Comedians do not put their honor on the line to simply get laughs, they put their honor on the line as a way to share a part of themselves, their beliefs, and their pain. We should honor true comedians and laugh not because everyone else is laughing but because what they had to say struck a note in our heads. Now the pain a comedian puts forth may come from a darker place and we see comedians that battle depression all the time. I find this relationship between sadness and laughter fascinating and I am planning on going to go more into depth on it in another entry. However, for now, I try to remember that comedians are people too and that there is a difference between comedians who let people laugh at their pain and comedians who laugh at other people’s pain

Uncontrollable Laughter Part I

 Choosing one time of breaking out into uncontrollable laughter might be one of the most challenging prompts I have had to face. I laugh a lot. Even if something is not funny, but extremely awkward, I will still produce a giggle to loosen tension. I can always find a reason to laugh even on my worst days, but to write two pages on a time of uncontrollable laughter requires a special occasion. As I struggle to think of the perfect moment, I cannot help but read the posters on my roommate’s wall. Summer, my roommate, loves sayings and has at least twenty of them taped up. Even though I have never particularly payed much attention to them, for some reason one by an anonymous author sticks out to me today. It reads, “But the most beautiful things in life are not just things. They’re people, and places, and memories and pictures. They’re feelings and moments and smiles and laughter.” I sit and think and the moment where laughter opened my eyes to the beauty of life finally came to me.

             
This summer I set out on a trip through Eastern Europe that ended up being an adventure of a lifetime. I knew no one in my group and I had no idea to expect, but I left with enough memories to last a lifetime. Throughout the four weeks of exhausting but rewarding travel, the group began to become more like a family unit rather than just fourteen travelers. Even though the entire trip was filled with laughter because we had quite a few comedians with us, there was one specific moment of uncontrollable laughter that was deep and genuine. It happened our last week in Prague when we all started to realize that our time together in this magical place was coming to a close. We all went to a light show where people use light to tell a story. Although the experience sounded cool on our itinerary, the light show ended up being unbelievably terrible. For almost two hours we sat through people making awkward jokes, actors making obvious mistakes with the lights, and two funky comedians messing with our one and only Dan Williams. By the time the curtains closed, our group was about running for the doors to get out of the theater only to be confronted with a torrential downpour of rain. Seven of us got separated from the rest of the group, but as we looked back to see the mass of people coming out we knew our only choice would be to book it back to the hotel which happened to be quite a ways away.

The seven of us took with little sense of direction. We eventually stopped under a building and all took a moment to look at each other. With our shoes absolutely soaked and hair drenched all we could do was laugh. We laughed so hard that eventually the rain on our cheeks turned into tears. We gathered ourselves together to find the nearest subway and continued to run and slip on the slippery cobblestone of the Prague streets. Some local Czechs also joined in with us as we began to purposefully slide around on the streets as if it was a game. All of my surroundings seemed cinematic. Once we finally made it to the subway and were undercover we all looked at our drenched clothes and laughed again. No one had to say a word. At that moment all of us realized where we were, the people we were with, the memories we made, and rejoiced in laughter. I could never have pictured myself with these people in this place and I am sure they felt the same. As we waited for our train we danced underground and continued to laugh as the locals stared at us crazy Americans. We knew that even though this trip would come to an end in just a few days, we would take these beautiful moments with us and hold them close as we went back to our normal TCU lives. A sad end became a thrilling beginning. It was laughing with people that meant so much to me that opened my eyes to how important a little adventure in life can be. 

My First Lunch With Debora!

              When I finally received the email notifying me of my conversation partner, my eyes quickly scanned the email to where they listed the country. Debora from Brazil, yes! I honestly would have been excited with a partner from any country around the world, but Brazil seemed exotic, foreign, and has a spot in “Hailey’s Top 10 Places to Travel” list. Not only did Brazil fascinate me, but Tobias, my good friend from high school, lived in Rio de Janeiro before moving to Oregon. I knew that if Debora and I ran out of conversation topics, I could at least find something to relate to her from what Tobias told me about Brazil. I immediately emailed her in anticipation of meeting a new friend different from my “everyday friends” at TCU. However, after a week of patiently waiting for her response and another week of trying to coordinate a time to meet, I began to worry about our meeting. Her English over texting was rough and each message took a few minutes to decode. I had already experienced studying abroad over the summer and trying to converse with people who knew almost no English, and I did not want relating to Debora to be that challenging.

              Once we finally found a time to meet and decided on the BLUU, which she called “the restaurant,” all of my apprehensions vanished upon introduction. Even though I occasionally had to help with her with words, her spoken English was much clearer than her written English. Right away I realized that Debora is the twenty-seven year old, Brazilian version of myself. After the customary small talk such about our hometowns and studies, we dove right into conversations I have had with some of my closest friends. We talked about weddings and how girls in Brazil and girls in America both start planning at a ridiculously early age. She married a man from Michigan three months ago, so we scrolled through all of the beautiful photos of her Brazilian-American wedding. She gave me advice on planning a wedding and opened up about how she believes in love at first sight and sometimes you just know you are with the right person. We discussed all of the places we have been so fortunate to travel to and how being on your own in a foreign place have been some of our scariest, but most rewarding adventures. We laughed about our love for soccer or futbol and our confusion with American football. We talked for over an hour, but we both could have sat there for longer if we did not both have prior engagements.

              As we discovered differences and similarities about ourselves, we could not help but laugh. I had no idea what to expect from Debora, so I created my expectations on what I have heard about Brazilians and I am sure she based her expectations of me on her idea of a typical American college student. Throughout lunch, we constantly broke the expectations we set for one another. She laughed when I told her how sororities are actually not like Legally Blonde and how Hollywood negatively portrays them. It fascinated me to learn about Carnival and how even though the rest of the world views it as a big crazy party, Brazilians hold the traditions close to their hearts. I believe that people naturally create expectations of one another, but we must be willing to let go of those expectations and just laugh. Yes, I felt awkward when Debora leaned in to kiss my cheek goodbye and I head dodged the contact, but I laughed. When I embrace differences no matter how goofy they may be, I become open to creating deep and meaningful connections. I am already counting down the days until my next lunch with Debora!