It’s been an emotionally charged few days here in Savannah. You all heard about my “When it Rains it Pours” Week of October 2nd- 9th and now midterms are upon us. Oh and did I mention that we finally finished all four seasons of our favorite show, Felicity? I feel lost without the constant back and forth of Ben and Felicity and their sassy barista boss, Javier. I find myself wondering what they are doing now? Whether Felicity let her hair go back to it’s natural curl and considering the pros and cons of Ben over Noel. (Losing her may actually be the biggest blow at this point).
The dishes in the sink are mine and they are dirty (I take full responsibility), there are matte boards and paint swatches all over the living room thanks to a especially time consuming repeat pattern project Claire and Frances are working on, little pieces of embroidery thread are stuck to the couch from Spencer’s (amazing) fiber’s embroidery situation, I can hear an English accented Olivia upstairs re-re-re-reciting the Shakespeare piece she must know by 11:00 today and I am just now noticing a lone box of tampons on the floor under the table perhaps strategically placed for easy access amongst the chaos that is this week.
We are all running on empty, but I must admit, I am coming out on the other side. My biggest low was definitely sometime last week post Shitfest 2011 in Fashion Tech when I had to baste and re baste my zipper 6 separate times to get the teeth to match up my seam line wasting all 2 and half hours of class on something that should take 20 minutes tops. This should not be that hard. I found myself leaving class and driving in auto pilot straight over to a local bakery to eat my emotions. This is when things got low. Reaching the front of the line, I noticed that they were sold out of my Star Brownie. What a joke. And there, in the line at Back in the Day Bakery, I broke down in tears.
Quiet enough to not cause a scene, but wet enough that the girl behind the counter noticed, I sort of kind of blurted/ kind of laughed/ kind of sobbed “So, you’re out of the Star Brownies?” then holding my breathe in a way that I think makes me look normal. “No– sorry, we just sold out.” It was the culmination of everything that had me walking back to my car with a box of 6 cupcakes that I didn’t want with tears streaming down my face.
I wouldn’t really consider myself a big cryer. I never cry for pity or for attention or during hard conversations and I’m not one of those girls who seems like she cries almost more than she laughs or than she thinks. And I will not confirm or deny the fact that at one point in my life I was seeking professional help concerning my lack of emotion. But I will admit to crying at completely unexpected and inopportune moments of weakness. When it’s the last straw that breaks the camel’s back, there will be tears. And in the spirit of full disclosure, sometimes I like it. This is why I completely loved (and cracked up at the timing) of this article I recently read on public crying. Her description of the way crying is not only sometimes necessary but welcomed is so exactly spot on.
So here’s to the tears! Let them flow like milk and honey at a time that couldn’t be more inconvenient.
Also, this video of Dane Cook crying has cracked me up for years. Pretty much the perfect description of my crying routine. PLEASE do not watch if you are easily offended by language. He says the F word seven times and the S word twice. Oops. Contrary to recent posts, I’m typically not a huge fan of expletives (or Dane Cook for that matter) but this is too good.