I have a terrible habit of laughing uncontrollably simply because one tiny aspect of a particular situation was, to my mind, ridiculously funny.
Like, yesterday when we were walking to the movies, I accidentally stepped on Celine’s little, semi-exposed sandalled foot really, really hard: “Owwww!” she yelped and shouldered me so that I’d get the hell off. She bent down to inspect the damage: “Look what you did!”, and pointed to the third toe of her left foot– all of her toes peered prettily pedicured up at me, except this one.
God knows how, but I’d somehow managed to step on her foot in such a precise way as to inflict no damage other than to solely strip her third toe of its raspberry nail varnish. We stared at it, and I started laughing really hard, while trying to deliver a heartfelt apology. She gave me a semi-reproachful look, and we kept on walking. Now, when I think about her third toe staring up at me forlorn, stripped, and so unhappily exposed against its will, I start laughing all over again.
Today, it happened again- except, in class. There is a guy from Cincinnati and his name is Elisha. Sometimes he hums really loudly, and as he explained today, generally, he doesn’t know he’s doing it (like that boy in “About A Boy”). Today, he started doing it while me, Jorge and him had to match our irregular verbs with their prepositions. Jorge and I stopped what we were doing, startled. Then we laughed, and Elisha shrugged in response, looking only a tiny bit sheepish.
Afterwards, we had to read our answers to the class, and just as Jorge was reading his answer for question (b), Elisha started humming again, and it wasn’t just a snippet– it was a proper vibrato-enriched trill which pitched high and low, high and low. I heard it and chortled as Jorge finished off his answer, apparently unaware: “Oh dear God woman, pull yourself together, your turn’s next”, I thought. Two long sentences in the face of the biggest Laugh Wall ever was an enormously intimidating task– I didn’t know if I could do it.
“Good, Jorge”, said our teacher, Lydia. She turned to me: “Und, Margaret?” I looked up and saw Jorge looking at me, all straight-faced: I let slip a tiny giggle: “Was? (“What?”)” Jorge whispered.
“Elisha was singing while you were giving your answer”, I whispered back- I giggled harder. Jorge giggled louder: “Ja, ich weiß!!” (“Yeah, I know!!”). His face went a little red as he tried to laugh quietly, and obviously that had the inevitable effect of sending me to the point of no return: our teacher was waiting, the class had gone quiet– everyone was poised, ready to tick or cross their answer: I took a deep breath.
And then I giggled.
Our teacher looked at me a little concerned, and so I knew I just had to do it. I readied myself. Another deep breath, complete concentration, and then I launched: I hurtled through that first sentence with a giant laugh bubble sitting at the base of my throat, and my voice went all fat and distorted (as it does when you’re trying not to laugh). I finished my answer and sat back lolling around as I could finally, finally, laugh now, but no: “Was?? Was hast du gesagt?? Ich verstehe nicht” (“What?? What did you say?? I don’t understand”) Jeremy unhelpfully piped up. Admittedly, I had read it really fast, and my voice had been all gobble gobbly like a rooster’s, but how could this be? Again?? Would I really have to read it again?? I looked up desperately at our teacher. She shrugged and indicated that yes, I must reread my answer– but clearer and slower this time. And so, save me somebody, please– I had to start all over again.
Unfortunately, by that point, Jorge’s giggling had developed into a soft, stream of laughter– and I just couldn’t do it anymore: I erupted into a big, hicupping, gut-stretching laugh while reading my answer in big gulps of half- sentences, before concluding in a way, which, I’m sure, looked a tad betrunken (drunk) and disorderly. At this point, our teacher was beyond concerned for my mental state:
“Margaret, have you had champagne this morning??”, she queried only half joking– and the whole class, which had already started laughing, exploded. The German I needed to explain precisely what was going on escaped me, and all I could say over and over again was “Elisha was singing!!!” Meanwhile, Jeremy declared unhelpfully to the class: “Margaret is verrückt” (“Margaret is crazy”), before patting me on the head, and I unsuccessfully glared at him while accosted by the Laugh Wall.
I gathered myself and tried not to think about the pitch and vibrato of Elisha’s humming, or Jorge going “I know!” after looking all straight-faced, and went on to finally finish my answer off– there has never been more sweeter relief.
In other news, we took a big cable car 1200 metres up the Schauinsland mountain (which, literally means “look into the country” mountain, and enjoyed the extraordinary view: ghostly, misty and magical, the mountains align in soft waves and are blanketed by the Black Forest. It really is just so schön (beautiful), here are some photos we took.
Word of the day: lachen, meaning “to laugh”- because honestly, what I would’ve done/given/paid to hold my laughter in today.