The Awkward Laugh (or a Little HA HA HA, even if it is inappropriate)

I have a really....wrong sense of humor. Ok, so I do not laugh at dead baby jokes, and definitely am not a fan of the real racist ones, but I have been known to smile about Helen Keller jokes (a personal favorite: What is Helen Keller's favorite Convenience Store? WAAWAA), and the very off-collar Sparkling Wiggles video (Side note: I am embarrassed to post a link to this video...but you should look it up if you are at all curious about how parents can make a child into a racist without her knowing it). In the past two days this self-realization has really come to my attention as I have laughed about people and the conditions they can't help. I sort of think I do this because they catch me off guard, or by surprise, and I respond with a sort of unexpected giggle (often under my breath, in my head, or to myself)...but then again...I guess there really is no excuse. I usually notice myself laughing, text a friend to see if they agree, or if they think I am crazy, and then go on with my life...pretending I did not just laugh at someone's physical or psychological condition. Oh, what a good doctor I will be.

Example 1: Yesterday when leaving work I stopped at a crosswalk with and laughed because of a pregnant little person. Perhaps I did this because she made me feel tall or like a really fast walker for once, or maybe I did it because after watching "Little People Big World" and a recent Private Practice episode (on genetic selection for height) I spent the whole walk next to her wondering if she was going to have a little or regular sized baby. But honestly, there was probably no excuse for the laugh (and I am glad it was only really in my head)...and even more, there was DEFINITELY no excuse for the fact that I really wanted to take a picture to see if you all thought it was random too. My friend calls the picture that I ended up with a "piece of modern art", but it is probably more like an attempt at sly photo taking, with a phone, while being so embarrassed at my own sense of humor. Did someone say...Stalker?!

Example 2: Today I laughed because in the extremely crowded rush hour and delayed metro this morning (some kind of probable crash down the line had virtually no trains coming and made me quite late to work), I was squished up next to a guy who had Tourettes. To make matters even more challenging for me, every time he had a physical or verbal tic I sort of shook with him. So I know Deuce Bigalow definitely took Tourettes to an extreme that is not at all a reality (not going to lie, a really funny extreme) : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fFn0llYqM8w ...but, when you are being thrashed around a crowded metro in consecutive intervals...perhaps all you can really do is...laugh. Unfortunately, like he can not control his tics, I cannot control my laughter or the series of crazy ponderings that follow it. I guess in a way laughing is my own psychological and physical impairment (Side note: I could not decide if laughing is actually psychological or physical and decided it, therefore, is a combination. Any thoughts on this one??)

To make matters worse, on my walk to work from the metro I passed the usual protesters (about 8 people going strong for over a month by beating on paint buckets and rapping) and one man looks right at me and says..."BUENOS DIAS". First reaction: make sure he is not talking to the person in front of me. Nope, she has red hair and is pale, and definitely looks Irish. Next thought: I know I have dark hair and dark eyes, but, especially in the winter time, I do not look Spanish. When I am tan I could maybe pass as Italian (this is a heavy maybe), and my dad and sister have been mistaken for Italians when in Italy (they are blessed with much more olive skin), but never Spanish...That is a new one. Not only do I not look Spanish, I took French in High School and virtually understand...zero Spanish. Alright, so I know what Buenos Dias means, but aside from that, I only really know how to say "hello", "yellow", and "please stand clear of the doors" (thank you Disney World and my random Argentinian roommate who hated me). In response I wanted to look back at the protester and say..."Baxter....you know I don't speak Spanish..."