Friday, December 28, 2007

I'm not cwying, I hab a code.

I hab a code. I took Zicam and held it off for almost a week, but it has finally caught up with me.

So I could blame all the sniffling in the movie last night on this curs-ed virus. I have no good explanation for the two hours of teary eyes, though.

Why am I such a sissy? I didn't used to be such a GIRL.

In college I never cried. My roommate Liz and I rented the entire Thornbirds miniseries with high hopes of tears, but to no avail. I'll wager I coulda slammed my hand in the car door without eliciting any tear duct activity. I was Elizabeth Bennet, I was Elinor Dashwood. I was a rock; an island. A rock feels no pain. An island never cries.

Then I got pregnant.
(Well, actually I met Jake and married him, then I got pregnant. Just to be clear).

Then, I was Jane Bennet, I was Marianne Dashwood. The ever-present, not-so-smart-and-witty Austen sister, ruled by her emotions, who makes the lesser match and is too dumb to notice she's settled for a second tier man (although he's usually still moderately rich and handsome). Ach! Who wants to be HER? It's a good thing my own match was made while I was still in my Elizabeth phase.

But the waterworks started almost immediately with the pregnancy hormones. That was almost ten years ago. I continue to this day as a public embarrassment.

I cry during Church hymns, I cry during public speaking (I think it is triggered by adrenaline), I even cry during James Blunt songs. Some of you borrow my books and wonder why the pages are all crinkly. Did I read them in the tub? Maybe; but more likely, I just cried on 'em. I apologize to whomever read the final Harry P. after me. I actually had to take a short reading sabbatical from that one, and give my full attention to inconsolable weeping, since my eyes had swollen shut.

So this movie, last night: P.S. I Love You. I heard it was based on a Nicholas Sparks book. Books of which I am not a fan. I realize I am likely only girl in America who is not. The movie was quite good, though. Quite good for girls. The theater was almost full and included about 10 men. Men whom Jen pronounced "very nice for coming along."

I started up crying right away. Before the opening credits were even over, before there was even anything to cry about. I knew what was coming, you see. It was like getting on a roller coaster and starting to scream from the anticipation, before the surly long-haired gender-neutral teen has even checked your safety restraint. I kept up a gentle drizzle through the whole show.

When I am pregnant, it gets worse. When I was big and round with with baby Ross, Jake and I saw Deep Impact. It was a mediocre movie about a meteor about to strike the earth and everyone totally freaking out about it. I cried so hard I started hiccoughing and wiping my nose on my coat sleeve. People around us noticed and stared; I mean, who weeps during Deep Impact? Armageddon came out around the same time, and I think many shed a tear over Bruce Willis' untimely, self-sacrificing demise (would have been heartless not to). But to carry on in such a manner as I did over Tea Leoni (B-list actress at best); well, it was quite gauche.

I just wanted to tell you all this as a sort of public service announcement. Sometimes, people aren't trying to make a scene. Sometimes, when you see someone crying and you feel like saying "for goodness sake, girl, pull yourself together!", well that's exactly what that girl is muttering to herself; it is exactly what she wishes she could do. But she can't.

Her freaky girly hormones have hijacked all her good sense. She is Marianne crying over her lost inner Elinor. Outside, she weeps; inside, she is ticked. She is grieving the treachery of her own sob-racked body.
Are there any other bawl-babies out there willing to confess?


tatum said...

Yep. Me. It is so pathetic, everything is worth shedding a tear over. Happy, sad, even funny. Only since my first pregnancy though. Before that, same story tough as a rock!

Gini said...

We went to that last night too and thought it was good. Not too many tears tho!!!

Brigham said...

"Gender-neutral" Exactly right. Amusement parks and Theater concession stands seem to attract those types.

Thompson Family said...

This is Liz's friend. I read this and thought I would make you feel better by sharing this post with you:

I'm specifically referring to #6.

And I laughed out loud when I read the "gender-neutral" comment. It's so true!!

Lizzie said...

I don't cry at movies, but other things when the families get brought on to reality shows (biggest loser, survivor etc). Maybe things will change after I have a child.

Kelly said...

Tatum and Thompson family, glad to her it isn't just me. I have little hope of it ending, though.

I can say that I am a little less judgmental now of wussy girls in general. I used to think PMS was made up. Now I am a true believer.

I think all the tender-feelings hormones are somehow supposed to help us be better mothers. That's my theory anyway. Otherwise, it's just a cruel joke.

Lizzie, if you are already tearing up at TV, you might end up worse than me. Good luck with that.