Things are better when Jean Luc is remembering jamaharon, Bev is daydreaming about candles, and Geordi is "studying engine schematics" on the holodeck.
I always thought Troi should have been more of a goth princess. The real kind, the in-a-black-hoodie-screeching-for-snacks-writing-bad-poetry-on-the-living-room-floor kind, not the dressed-up-for-a-show-in-black-fishnet-and-lace-finery kind.
Despite all the lessons in Star Trek about the value of diplomatic and non-confrontational methods, sometimes the therapeutic value of hitting a motherfucker just can’t be dismissed.