I am a crier. Not as in a town crier and I notify the rabble when something interesting is happening, but as in I cry at Hallmark commercials.
There used to be a commercial for a phone company. I don't remember which one. Anyway, a teenage girl is in a very damp, dark looking city and she's all dirty and she goes in a phone booth and picks up the phone and then somewhere in a bright, sunny kitchen a woman picks up and the girl just says "Mom" and the mom knows and asks where she is. And then I bawl. Like a baby. Because she's coming home and she's gonna be safe and... Well, I can't explain it. It's 30 seconds and I'm a whimpering mess. I'm actually teary telling you all about this commercial I haven't seen since at least high school.
I love to cry at movies or TV shows or whatever. It kinda annoys me when I get teary at commercials, but there is something so cathartic about just sobbing while someone rides into the sunset. Or doesn't. I'm not picky, I like happy crying and sad crying equally. I love Steel Magnolias because you get both. You also get to laugh while your crying every single time and if Truvy isn't right about that, I don't know anything about anything.
People have always made fun of my crying. Except my family, because they are all criers too. My mom and my little brother especially. (It was NOT popcorn salt in your eyes and you know it!) The thing is, I'm not particularly embarrassed of it most of the time. I don't mind that I am a crier. That's just life. It's just who I am. I get scared at horror movies, I cry at happy movies or sad movies, I get pissed off when I watch Animal Cops. I just feel it all and I don't mind that.
I'm not afraid of feeling and I guess I've always believed that maybe my feeling all feelingy makes me more empathetic or something.
In any case, I will sob unabashed in a movie theatre, crowded living room, my car (to the radio, not movies), wherever. I don't care who sees and who thinks what about it. It just doesn't bother me. Most of the time.
Then, there are times. Times when I wish I wasn't so *empathetic*. Times when I wish I could be a normal person. Times like Sunday. When I continued to watch Wizards of Waverly Place: The Movie even after Brynna had gone on to bed. When I watched with some trepidation as Alex and Justin fought for the family power (a concept that I am sure 90% of you have no clue about, but which fascinates me). And then, I cried. I cried as it all worked out. As Alex hugged her mother and went running after her brothers. As they all threw their arms around their father. I cried. Because I'm a big crying crybaby, is why. And I am not proud of that at all. I am, for maybe the third time in my life, ashamed to be crying at a movie.
She's got good hair, though, doesn't she. And so does the mom. I'm going to grow mine out in hopes of getting that mom's hair.
4 comments:
I refuse to sign this as myself, because NOBODY would believe it of me, but I cried at that movie, too. And I cry at commercials, and songs, and seeing poor little homeless animals out on the street. I cry ALL THE TIME, and I'm really tired of blaming allergies, but it's better than letting people know that she who pretends to be so tough is nothing but a pile of goo on the inside.
Well, I have no idea who you are, but I can't actually believe that there is another adult on the planet who saw that movie. We are a rare breed.
Well, I got teary-eyed just reading your description of that commercial! I will say that I cry less at movies and TV than I used to, but I also watch much less of those things than I used to, so maybe it's a wash. But there is definitely no shame in being a crier, even at dumb things like the Lion King. (I mean, I cried even after watching the dern movie 40 times... as if I wasn't prepared for the fact that Mufasa dies.) Nonetheless, I think it shows that we have a remarkable ability to feel the pain of people around us, unlike the apathy of the common horde.
Your anonymous friend here again. I've not only seen the movie once, I was forced to watch it all THREE times it played this weekend ("but, Mom! Tomorrow night they show us how they did the special effects! And we have to watch it Sunday 'cause they're gonna show sneak peeks of next season! Mom, we GOTTA WATCH THEM ALL!) Then I cheerfully remind myself that I can certainly live through WWP, as I have already survived watching endless hours of "Barney" in my child's toddler days. Compared to the purple monstrosity, WWP isn't bad at all.
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