July 08, 2014

Day 37: Things that Make Me Cry

A picture of me in 2008.  Even though I'm not quite crying here, I'm sure you are now.

I have literally never seen either of my parents cry.

Needless to say, I wasn't raised to wear my heart on my sleeve.  And because of that, I had always assumed that I had an impenetrable heart of stoic steel.  That, and because I made it through "My Sister's Keeper" and "Marley & Me" completely without tissue.

So imagine my surprise when I found out yesterday that I was in fact a crier.  It's like going through your whole life thinking you're a Leo only to have some wise guy tell you that actually, you're a Cancer.  Complete mayhem.

Now, no matter what any quack astrologist or moody centaur says, I am still a stubborn lion.  Dammit.  But after I hung up a 46 minute phone call with Comcast in tears last night, I realized I may need to rethink other parts of my identity.

You see, whoever is quality assuring the Comcast helpline from last night will be treated to a recording of an Xfinity Triple Play Bundle-subscriber being redirected to three different people, all of whom were very glad to be helping assist her that evening.  The quality assurer will hear the girl go from upbeat and friendly, to somewhat annoyed, to barely containing hostility, to inevitable defeat.  The assurer will listen as Rakesh tells her that the only way she can reset her password and pay her bill is to wait for the pin number he's sending via USPS, and her telling him thank you, she'll look for it with her copy of Boy Meets World Season 2 on VHS that she ordered in 1995.

Obviously I'm kidding.  That witty comeback is something that Leo-Nicole would have said.  The emotional flatliner who never gets worked up.  Nicole of questionable astrological origin, however, mumbled thank you through exasperated tears before telling Rakesh to have a good night.

Of course, as any bout of demoralized tears brought on by conversations with a cable company representative will do, the experience had me recounting all of the other things I cry about.  And this made me realize: I cry a lot.

I cry when I'm frustrated and hungry.  Actually, I cry sometimes when I'm just hungry.  I cry when I'm scared.  I cried when I knocked out my front tooth in high school, not from pain but from the pure fear that I would have to move to Alabama.  I cry pretty much every time I go to an airport.  I cried the first time I saw this video.  I cried when Billy Cundiff missed the game-tying field goal in the 2012 AFC Championships.  I cry every time I see something about September 11th or Sandy Hook.  Basically, the only time I don't cry is when Jennifer Aniston buries a golden retriever.

Which makes me wonder: if it turns out that I actually am a crier, what else don't I know about myself?