Everybody wear your life jackets tomorrow...

I'm a crier. I've always been a crier. The first time I realized this about myself was when I was in first grade and my teacher Mrs. Dickerson sent me home in tears.

I had always loved Mrs. Dickerson, she would hug you when you left for the day and they were the best hugs. Now that I am older and think about her, I can't quite figure out why I loved her, even with the great hugs. She wasn't what you would call a nice woman.  For example... My mom would let me dress myself in first grade and I just HAD to wear my "Brittany" legwarmers with everything. Side note: I call them "Brittany" legwarmers because they were pink and maroon and said Brittany all over them. Anyway, I wore them with jeans, skirts, shorts, you name it. I loved my "Brittany" leg warmers. Once while wearing my favorite leg warmers, Mrs. Dickerson told me that I would be a really pretty girl if I just didn't wear those leg warmers with everything. That's just one example of when Mrs. Dickerson said something mean to me. That wasn't even the time she made me cry. I actually didn't care what she had to say about my leg warmers, I loved them and I thought they went with everything I wore. Kind of like how I feel about hoop earrings now.

I'm sure I've told the few of you that read my blog about the time that Mrs. Dickerson did make me cry. But you're going to have to hear it (or in this case, read it again for the sake of this post).
One day I was in class and I was so happy I couldn't contain myself, I started whisteling. Mrs. Dickerson didn't like it and told me to stop. I was a good girl at that age and I listened to my teachers so I immediately stopped whisteling. Well, the little boy in back of me must have had it out for me for some reason, maybe he hated my "Brittany" leg warmers too, I don't know... anyway, as soon as I stopped whisteling, he started whisteling. Mrs. Dickerson assumed it was me. She told me to go stand in the corner for not obeying her. I tried to plead with her and tell her that it wasn't me that was whisteling but she didn't want to hear it so I went and stood in the corner and cried and cried. At the end of that day when the class was standing in line waiting for the bell to ring Mrs. Dickerson says to the class "Attention everyone. Please bring your life jackets tomorrow because Brittany is going to be crying again." Well obviously this hurt my feelings and I started to cry again. I didn't want to cry, I hated that I cried so easily but I couldn't help it, it was just the way I was made.

It's been 24 years since that day but I'm still just as much of a crier now as I was then. The past two days I've cried three times.  One time it was over Gilmore Girls. There was a sweet moment between Luke and Lorelei and it touched my heart and brought a tear of my eye. Then, yesterday afternoon, I turned on the TV and an old episode of Beverly Hills 90210 (yes, this is one of my guilty pleasures) was on and it was Mother's Day and Clare was looking at a photo book of her mom and that set me off again, just thinking about Mother's and how great they are. Then this morning, Troop Beverly Hills was on the Family channel (How embarassed should I be right now admitting all in one post that I don't change the channel when Gilmore Girls, 90210 or Troop Beverly Hills is on?) anyway, it was the end of the movie and the troop had just won the Wilderness Girls Trophy and Shelley Long's daughters says "I wish Dad were here" and Shelley agrees and then there he is. Guess what happened then? I got choked up. Over Coach and Shelley Long reuniting. Why?

Anyway, fast forward to this afternoon, I was in line at Target and making polite conversation with the lady checking us out when she starts telling me how it's been a really tough couple of weeks and proceeds to tell me that her father passed away last week, that she just got back from his funeral and then yesterday she found out that her step mother passed away. She started crying while she was telling me this. I stood there, my heart breaking for this poor woman and yet I could not will my tears to come.

So I ask you... why is it that when I don't want to cry, the tears come anyway but when I want nothing more than to cry in order to show some sypathy those tear ducts won't cooperate with me?