Laughter is the shortest distance between two people.

I don't know who Victor Borge is or was, or what his other philosophies were (are? is he still alive? I just assume he's dead because he's being quoted online. But maybe I'm about to be hugely mistaken) on life, but that is one with which I can definitely agree.

True laughter is one of those amazing, bonding, binding experiences that any two (or three, or seven) people can have if the conditions are right. Really, any degree of coherence is all that is required; laughing at 3 AM can be just as satisfying as 1 PM. A history of information, people, events, and memories is usually the breeding ground and essential to true, raucous laughter. Best friends of decades can giggle together over a completely coincidental event or instance and not give one lick that no one else understands the connection between jenga and costco-brand "crunchy snack".

Some souls have been blessed with laughter that warms everyone within earshot, while others find their laughs as malleable as breakfast's over-cooked porridge. (who says porridge anymore? It's Quaker's Oatmeal all the way, folks. Don't buy into Goldilocks. But do you know what I'm talking about? There's this phase of morning oatmeal where you've added just under the right amount of liquid, and in your bowl is this carve-able mass of oats and clumps of unstirred brown sugar. My favorite way to eat it, actually.)

I fall into this latter category. I remember getting comments on my laugh my freshman year, how it was so unique or joy-bringing or whatever. And then I noticed my sophomore year that it changed. Was it because I didn't think something was the same kind of funny? Was I trying to be a different person? Was I not satisfied or embarrassed or some other personal problem? None of these questions apply. Honestly, I think it was because I was surrounded by several powerhouse laughs, and they made an influence in how I laughed. Interesting how those same powerhouse laughers have influenced my life in a lot of other positive ways as well.

Isn't it interesting that someone's laugh is more identifiable than possibly their face? You can hide a face really well under makeup, wigs, eyebrow transformations, contacts, glasses, etc. Usually you aren't fooled, but sometimes, man. who are you? (I'm gonna make a change, for once in my life, ... Michael Jackson knows what I'm talking about.)

But I can hear a roommate's laugh from around a corner and know who it is. I could never be confused about two sisters giggling, despite being nearly identical in personality and beliefs. Even through walls, windows, snow, or people, you can always identify a friend through their laughter. And isn't is awesome how happy it makes you to hear someone laugh? I wish I had a soundtrack of the people I love laughing, because that is what brings me the greatest joy.

I just had an experience tonight of hearing some of the most beautiful laughter from someone I greatly admire and love. I heard it all the time this last school year, but tonight was the capstone hurrah. (Veins were popping and everything, and the back of heads hurt from laughing so hard.)

I'm grateful for this experience I could have, tucked away in my memory (card. Who would I be without a camera?), hearing such a jolly outburst and exclamation of pure joy.

Indeed, 2 nephi 2:25:

Adam fell, that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.

I hope you can find time in your busy, stressful, demanding lives to enjoy true laughter with someone you love. Because it is the best stress ball I've ever seen.

word of the day: malapert \MAL-uh-purt\, adjective; unbecomingly bold or saucy.