hA!

I received an e-mail today from a guy I worked with in Dallas and haven't really spoken to in over two years.

Re: your crazy laugh liz, have you ever recorded it? i'm dating a girl who has a laugh that's real impressive, but maybe like 1/2 as powerful. i can't help thinking about you whenever her "hA!" sounds. if (somehow) you haven't recorded your superior vocal performance, can you leave me a good "hA!" on my voicemail and then hangup? 214.454.xxxx. of course, if you have recorded it, please email me a file STAT, ok? i just have to prove to everyone that this girl sarah isn't the queen of the laugh.

by the way, how the hell are you? do you ever make it back up to dallas?

To quote Seth & Amy from Weekend Update: "Really."

*cocking my brow*

You think I can just laugh like that on command? Think I'm that much of a phony?

Really.

Think I just sit around with a microphone at my desk, or maybe hangin' around my neck, ready to record my next guffaw?

Really.

So, so...if I DON'T have a recording of it, you think I'm gonna just call you up in the middle of my busy day and leave a fake laugh on your voice mail?

Really.

And you want me to do all this so you can tell your flavor of the month that my laugh is bigger than hers?

Really.

How about you marry her, and invite me to the wedding no one ever thought you'd have. Because then she'd hear a genuine laugh.

Really.

Here's the deal with my laugh. It's big. It's loud. It's the laugh Christopher Hitchens described in his editorial "Why Women Aren't Funny" as, "that real, out-loud, head-back, mouth-open-to-expose-the-full-horseshoe-of-lovely-teeth, involuntary, full, and deep-throated mirth; the kind that is accompanied by a shocked surprise and a slight (no, make that a loud) peal of delight."

That's it. For better or worse. (And I assure you with the above exception, most co-workers within close proximity of me consider it "for worse".) But the point is, it's real.

Well, with maybe one slight exception.

I used to be totally embarrassed about my laugh. Classmates made fun of me for it, and so I did what any insecure kid would do. I looked to see what the popular girl was doing. Kelly Kapowski* was by far the most popular girl in school. Cute clothes, all the boys, and this adorable laugh that endeared her to the world...

...and was punctuated with a snort.

It's nearly impossible to imitate a laugh. I know this because many have tried to mimic my own, and I don't sound like a damn goose. So imitating Kelly's full laugh wasn't going to work. But I knew how to snort, and so I did.

And this is why I wish there were time machines. So I could go back to 5th grade, find my pathetic self, chasing after Kelly and snorting up a storm, and slap my own bespectacled face. "A SNORT?", I'd scream. "Of all Kelly's traits - the cute clothes, great accessories, lessons on how to flirt - you chose to pick up her SNORT?!?"

REALLY.

The saddest part of this story is that I did it for so long it finally became a natural - if not entirely original - part of my own laugh.

So, you busted your ass to make your own dorky laugh even dorkier?

Yup. And I'd say, mission: accomplished.

Really.




*my pathetic attempt to protect the innocent.