This summer, I travelled to Los Angeles, California to work in the film industry. It was a thoroughly meaningful experience, granting me insight into the complex inner workings of Hollywood and cinema. However, one of the most profound moments of that trip was a night spent in. Every other day, the participants of this trip worked eight hours at respective internships. For many, the work was tough but rewarding. After several weeks of this work, however, I was incredibly exhausted. One night, instead of exploring the city and the many experiences it had to offer, I opted to spend the night watching television with my roommates, one of whom had just been mailed the complete season 3 of Spongebob Squarepants on DVD. Of course, I love Spongebob, I had grown up watching it. However, while watching each episode, I found myself reflecting on the impact Spongebob has had on my life- how it has been a formative program in so many regards.

The most basic and obvious example of this is the moment I come back to an episode of Spongebob, particularly the classic episodes. From the moment the title card flashes across the screen, I immediately know the plot of the episode. From start to finish, nothing about the episode is a surprise to me. However, I still find myself excited and enthralled by each episode- which is so strange. I've seen every episode countless times and there is nothing new to be gained by watching them for another time. Yet I continue to watch as though entranced. I find myself reciting the lines as they are said on-screen, laughing as though the joke was told to me anew. What is it about Spongebob's strange, non-sensical humor that clicks so easily for me?

I feel as though the very basis of my humor has been built upon Spongebob. It's almost as though Spongebob is a lens through which all other jokes are interpreted. When watching an episode, every joke and every line makes sense to me in a profound way which is hard to verbalize. The inflection of each sentence and the timing of ever joke is internalized in the very core of my being. Outside of this world, too, I find that my humor is just as non-sensical. Truly, I can appreciate a joke that is well-conceived and carefully constructed, but at the same time, I laugh the hardest watching a fifteen second YouTube video of a little girl yelling "I smell like beef," in to the camera. The prominence of this show in my life has affected the way in which I perceive my world in a small- so small it's almost unnoticeable- yet profound way.

My ability to interpolate the show, too, comes from years and years of exposure. I find myself to be most comfortable in a social setting when I am aware that the person to which I am speaking knows Spongebob as well as I and can quote it back to me. In a way, it is a safety net in a world filled with uncertain social encounters. Spongebob and its humor is a warm blanket to me. It was quite frightening when I realized how a single word said in the same inflection as it was on the show can instantly bring me back in to the exact moment in a single episode.

In preparation for this article, I decided to revisit a random episode to see if I experienced that sense of resonance. I chose Squilliam Returns, the episode in which Squidward encounters his arch-rival, Squilliam Fancyson, outside of the Krusty Krab. Desperate to not have him realize that he has amounted to nothing in life, Squidward lies to Squilliam, claiming that he owns a five-star restaurant. Much to Squidward's dismay, Squilliam says that he will be by his restaurant that evening to try out the food. Hijinks insue. Surely enough, I remembered every hijink (is that the singular?). From Patrick using his "fancy" voice to ask, "May I take you hat, sir?" to Mr. Krabs playing the actual World's Smallest Violin for Squidwrd, to the representation of Spongebob's subconscious saying, "You don't pay me. We're just a clever metaphor used to personify the abstract concept of thought." Every line clicked within me as though it had a home there.

It truly is terrifying for one to realize the grip that a cartoon show has on your life. My very being has been molded from the contents of this show. I am who I am today because of that underwater sponge and his aquatic compatriots. It came at such a formative time in my life, too. It was omnipresent as I grew up, seemingly becoming a staple in my reality. I know there are others out there like me, whose very world is molded by Spongebob. I am not alone. I know who lives in a pineapple under the sea and so do you.