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Angels Cry Over Lost Game of Jenga  Over the past three-day weekend, many of you headed off to the lovely wasteland that is home, while others sent their brain cells packing with nothing else to do at UOP. I, on the other hand, had the wonderful opportunity of embarking on one of nature’s most enigmatic social phenomena: Family Trips. The reason that they are so curious lies in the fact that all of the things that should usually happen on family vacations such as rest, relaxation, and quiet, well... usually don’t.
I don’t know what it is about family trips, perhaps it’s being cooped up in a car/airplane/ submarine/whatever with your family for prolonged periods of time, but it tends to cause a ridiculously high level of argumentative behavior. Personally, I think the argument intensity, if measured, starts out relatively low when the kids are young, and from there grows exponentially. I mean when you’re five and your parents are arguing over which exit to take, you don’t really think anything of it. But when you’re fifteen, an argument that may have started out with your parents over which exit to take will somehow escalate and shift towards how you aren’t adding to the conversation because you’re too busy listening to your hippity hop music on your headphones. Don’t think you’re safe if your sibling is with you either, oh no, because chances are that when they’re getting yelled at, you will inevitably get sucked into a drama vortex of shouting that can only be rivaled by your intense urge to gouge your eyes out with a plastic spork. Now think about it, that’s three times the chance of getting caught in a verbal crossfire! If the other parent says something wrong you’re screwed, if you’re sibling says something wrong you’re screwed, and lord have mercy if you yourself say something wrong. Hell hath no fury like an Asian mother (I love you, mommy.)
Although families are supposed to stick together, there has always been something rather peculiar about the chairs that sit on the Summit patio above the Student Bookstore. The chairs are all locked together. Really close together. So close that trying to get more than one person to sit at the table results in something that I can only describe as a human game of Jenga. Each person pulling the chairs out, attempting to find the perfect equilibrium in which both parties can sit. If you’re feeling super adventurous, try to seat three people. I promise you, the results will be enthralling.
Anyone who has happened to be in the vicinity while watching three people play human Jenga on the locked chairs will be familiar with one of my favorite human phenomena, and that my friends is the mysterious silent laugh. We’ve all seen it, we’ve all done it, but the mystery lies in the fact that we don’t hear it.
You know what I’m talking about, when your drunk friend walks into a parked car, someone drops the funniest joke you’ve heard all day, or maybe just maybe you’ve found yourself reading certain columns in The Pacifi can *ahem,* and you just keel over in a fi t of laugher that transcends even the human ear. Your face shows all signs that you’re laughing, your body movement dictates the same, but for some inexplicable reason the gods have taken away your ability to laugh. But what they do give you is a chance for your friends to see how stupid your laughing face looks. Just remember, every time you experience a silent laugh, an angel gets its wings.
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Lifestyles 
