Days 18 & 19

Tuesday: I just had to do it. I had to re-watch Michael Scott's proposal on The Office. Still the sweetest thing ever. Still made me cry.

Wednesday was my last day at school before Spring Break. Josh & I are heading down to South Carolina tomorrow to see friends and family. I was ready to jet outta there as soon as the final bell rang. Everyone has spring fever right now, not just the students. My cooperating teacher is Mr. Grubbs and he is eccentric and funny and scatterbrained. He goes off on little tangents when teaching on an hourly basis. He also tends to repeat jokes often. He told a silly little joke in 1^st block about touching your nose and earlobe at the same time. He tried to repeat the joke in 4^th block, but he got it all wrong. It won’t sound funny to you, but let me tell ya- I died laughing. For some reason watching him get all twisted up in that joke just tickled me and I laughed til I cried. The students thought I was crazy. It was a good day.

Day 17

I am not big on formalities, especially between close friends. When you know someone inside and out it usually feels silly to be so proper. However, I LOVE the formality of asking one to be a bridesmaid. It’s just makes ya feel good and loved and honored. I was so excited to call each of my girlfriends (and Gabe!) to ask them to be in my wedding and I love being asked. I’ve been in four weddings so far: my cousin Tori’s, my cousin Katelyn’s, my college roommate Ginger’s, and my college roommate Anne’s. And now I am going to be in BRITTNY’S!!! I couldn’t help but tear up Monday when Britt asked. My excitement for her has not waned at all and I am just tickled pink (or should I say coral?) to spend the next year or so talking ‘wedding’ with my b.f. Yay!!!!!!

Days 15 & 16

On Saturday Josh and I watched last week's episode of The Office; the one when Michael Scott proposes. It was the cutest, sweetest thing ever.

Sunday was an up and down day. I woke up crying after a dream about my Grandma G. We were buds, my Grandma G and I. In my dream she was just the way I remember her: long silky nightgown, stiff, hair sprayed hair, and perfectly shaped and painted nails. She was my Grandma. Except she was tiny. In real life Geraldine Wissman was a 5’10” smoker who loved 90210 and Melrose Place. She wasn’t tiny or delicate, but in my dream she was. We sat on the floor in my old house on Dam Town Road. I hugged her close and she asked me to tell her about Josh. It makes me cry now just thinking about it. I can’t wait for her to meet him one day.

The rest of my day was great. We worked out, went to church, cleaned the house, and spent the day with my parents. We watched basketball and gossiped and ate wings. A LOT of wings. But just when I was about to doze off my phone rang and I received horribly sad news about a dear friend. His brother died on Sunday. He was only 28 and a newlywed. It’s tragic. I have known this family for more than 20 years. This loss leaves our whole community grieving and I know there will be many more tears in the coming days and weeks. The Wade Family is in everyone’s thoughts and prayers right now. Rest in peace Timmy Wade.

Days 13 & 14

Thursday night I got home in time for Grey’s Anatomy. However, BYU & Florida State insisted on going into overtime, so I huffed and puffed while Josh watched the game. Yes, I could have gone into another room to watch, but I’d rather cuddle and complain. So I did and I was only able to catch the last 10 minutes of Grey’s. My Grandma Metje has Alzheimer’s, so for those of you who watched, you’ll understand why I cried, very hard, into our couch pillow during the last scene. For those of you who have or have had a relative suffer through Alzheimer’s than you don’t have to have watched to understand why I cry at any given moment thinking about my sweet grandma and her disease. Or even worse, my sweet grandpa and his role as caretaker. It’s feels like an impossible situation sometimes.

On to a much happier Friday! Finally, it’s out in the open and I can talk about my secret phone call from Saturday: One of my best friends, Brittny, is ENGAGED! Her very manly man took her out to Arizona for vacation where he proposed at an overlook at sunset. Sigh. He gave her a beautiful handcrafted ring and they spent the rest of vacation in private bliss. It is everything she deserves and I could not be happier for her. I also cannot WAIT to get my fanny down to Charleston and start planning her beach wedding. Today I wasted time in class to look at wedding stuff and gather ideas for Britt’s Big Day. I love, love, love looking at wedding photographer websites. These are the standards that always get me choked up: Father/Daughter moments, Mother/Daughter moments, and exit shots. I love seeing a bride and groom leaving their ceremony…it’s like a glimpse into happily ever after. Such promise. Such happiness. Such love.

Days 11 & 12

My mom is #2 on my speed dial (voicemail is #1 of course). Next is Dad at #3 and my brother, Brad, at #4. Josh used to be #8 but after we got married I felt it was time for a promotion. Now he is #5. Sorry babe but that is the best I can do. While out to dinner on Tuesday I ended up with three missed calls; one from #3, #4, and #2, in that order. When I checked my voicemail I had a message from each and they were so sweet in their familiarity that tears came to my eyes. Dad’s message started the same way it always does- with a drawn out “Heeey sweetie…” Brad’s began with a deep, but childlike “Hey sister” and mom’s with her chipper “Hey baby girl!’. These are the monikers given to me by three of the most important people in my world. I love how predictable and comfy those simple pet names can make me feel. I am so loved.

Wednesday I had my first challenging moment as a teacher. A student in my first block was inconsolably upset. She was standing right outside my classroom, crying and crying. Her tears prevented her from talking; she made no other sounds, just big fat tears rolling down her anguished face. It was heart wrenching. I couldn’t help but add a tear or two of my own. I just cannot watch others cry without crying myself. Later that day she came by class to get her stuff and on her way out she turned and thanked me for comforting her. Then she popped her head back in and said she was sorry to make me cry. I could have cried again right then and there. I felt so…admonished. This poor 16 year old girl with all her troubles was worried about my stupid inability to control my own emotions. I gotta get a grip on this thing, y’all. There are enough drama queens in a high school!

Days 9 & 10

Sunday: So, I spend most my time in church fake yawning. I do this so I can dab at my eyes without looking conspicuous. It’s just that so many hymns in church make me cry, especially when it’s a beautiful day out and the light shines through the glass and the song has a snappy beat. It’s just…uplifting. It makes me happy. And when I’m happy I cry. This Sunday’s service was FILLED with amazing hymns, many that I recognized. So I tapped my toes, belted out the words, and fake yawned.

Monday: The first book I ever read that made me cry was My Girl by Laurice Elehwany. The same scene from both the movie and the book get me going; it’s the scene when Vada goes to her poetry class after Thomas dies and reads her Weeping Willow poem. As a 12 or 13 year old girl, that scene KILLED me. I remember sitting in our sunroom, my favorite reading spot, and just crying and crying. It wasn’t long after reading My Girl that my father came home with two used books. I was sitting in that same spot in our sunroom when dad handed me A Dangerous Fortune by Ken Follett and Beach Music by Pat Conroy. He told me those were his favorite books and he thought I should read them. Then he went in his office. And with that he changed my life. As we all now know, lots of things make me cry. Lots of authors have also made me cry. However, there is no one more gifted at sending me for the tissues than Pat Conroy. His words, his stories, HIM! He just gets to me. He has written stories of the South, stories about basketball, stories about cooking, and even stories about stories. All of them made me cry. Monday morning I read a simple note from Pat Conroy to his fans. It made me throat constrict and my eyes water up and over. I mean, it was a NOTE. In the simple words he penned for his fans, Mr. Conroy is gracious and funny and talented, as always. In his self-deprecating manner, he states that John Irving “can't write a grocery list without it selling like literature.” Well that may be true, but I’m willing to bet that if Pat Conroy handed me his shopping list, we’d need to add Kleenex ASAP.

Days 7 & 8

Friday was beautiful, but it didn’t start out so. I woke up early to make Indian food for my students. We are reading a book set in India right now and I wanted to teach them more about the culture. Friday was also my first day of dog sitting for the weekend, so I allowed extra time for puppy love and early a.m. walks. Of course, waking up early didn’t prevent me from being late to school. I arrived with about a zillion bags of stuff- Indian food, running clothes, lunch box, computer bag, purse, etcetera- but somehow managed to forget my school keys. I had parked on the side of the school so I could schlep in all my bags and hide my tardiness from the admins at the front, but you cannot get in that side door without KEYS! So before I could take a deep breath and calm myself down, two hot tears burned through my makeup and left streaks down my cheeks. I had to march all the way to the front door, juggling my many bags, pretending that a) I wasn’t late and b) that it’s normal to walk through school at 8:40 with a tearstained face. It was embarrassing. But I have to say as the day progressed it got better and better.

Saturday was also beautiful. I woke early to volunteer that morning, so I took a nap in our sunny living room and watched Bethany Getting Married. Later, Josh & I got ready and spent the afternoon at Blenheim Vineyards. We drank too much and talked about nothing important. It was lovely. We went by the grocery store and got steaks & peel and eat shrimp. We went home, cooked, and drank even more wine. We were in bed by 10. My phone rang shortly after. It was a call I’d been waiting for and it was worth the wait! I squealed the minute I saw my phone light up and starting crying the minute I said hello. I am DYING to tell you all about it and will soon.  More to come- I promise!

Days 4, 5, & 6

Tuesday- I only cried once. It was short and sweet and so my explanation will be the same. If you don’t understand the following, you need to reprioritize your life: Rachel Berry’s MVP Award acceptance speech after Regionals. sniff sniff.

Wednesday is much more complicated. Even more complicated is the fact that I cannot blog about that which made me cry. It involves someone else’s private life. And while I started this blog to be open and honest and reflective, I hope my readers (or is it READER?) will understand that out of respect I cannot air another’s private business. So let’s just say someone I love very much is facing some challenges right now. And one of the hardest things in life is to watch someone you love struggle without having the tools to help. And so, I spent Wednesday trying to listen when they needed listening to, commiserating when they needed commiserating with, and hugging when I didn’t know what else to do. And crying, of course. Lots of crying.

Thankfully, Thursday is an easy one. I was dry eyed yesterday, y’all. In the words of Paula Abdul, I was like a c-c-c-c-cold hearted ssssssnake. I mean I talked to some friends about the aforementioned issue without my eyes watering up at all! My husband received awesome news about a potential job and we danced and celebrated without even a single tear of joy appearing. My friend told me a HILARIOUS story involving braces and HEAD GEAR that made me laugh and laugh, but still not even the slightest tear. Until I came home. And Private Practice was on. A show I never watch, but for whatever reason that is where the remote stopped last night. So I watched and I cried. It was some awful story about a couple who couldn’t conceive. Those stories ALWAYS make me cry. I didn’t even watch the end, so I went to bed hoping that couple got a baby by 11 p.m. It is crazy how often I cry over fictional characters and their fictional problems, but I do. And last night, I did.

Side Note

As you know this thing is a work in progress. I’ve been playing around with colors, templates, layouts, etc. but I hadn’t put much thought into exactly HOW I would post each day. I mean, I knew I couldn’t realistically post something EVERY day, but I figured I could cover a few days in each post and be fine. Now I’m beginning to realize this might be a lot harder than I thought. The thing is y’all, I cry MORE than once a day on many days. Especially when tragedies such as the earthquake/tsunami in Japan occur. And when the Bachelor Finale airs. And when my husband does something so utterly hilarious he has me peeing my pants AND crying with laughter. Furthermore, I didn’t think about how this blog would add to my daily dose of tears. Reflecting on my day can be emotional on its own. I mean just thinking about yesterday- the ache for those struggling in Japan, the guilty pleasure of reality tv, and the sweet, sweet moment of laughing with the man I love- all in ONE single, blessed day. Isn’t that enough to make ya cry? It is for me.

Please be patient as I figure this thing out! So much crying and so little time…

Days 2 & 3

Day 2

Sex and the City makes me cry every time. It reminds me of my first week in Charleston in my very first “grown-up apartment”.  The cable company couldn’t come for like 7 business days, so my best friend, Flynn, drove me to Best Buy to help me pick out a DVD player.  We also bought Season One of Sex and the City, The Simple Life (with Paris and Nicole) and Breakfast at Tiffany’s. She brought over a bottle of Chardonnay to celebrate my move and we commenced to watching SATC on loop for a week. That DVD has disappeared over the years, but I still have that empty bottle of chardonnay on my bookshelf. It’s next to my very first corsage from 9^th grade homecoming and a picture of my cat, Sugars.

Anyway, Carrie and her girlfriends always figure out a way to turn on the waterworks. Yesterday I watched Charlotte and Harry’s weddings; the one where everything goes wrong and, for some reason, Carrie is determined to master the art of the trapeze. I really can’t relate to anything in this episode, but it made me miss my Flynnie anyway, so I cried. Twice. But they were happy tears both times. Flynn has been my best friend for like 15 years and even though neither of us are anything like the girls who split that bottle of chardonnay all those years ago, she’s still my Carrie, Samantha, Miranda, and Charlotte all rolled into one.

And now I’m crying again…

Day 3

Keith Urban’s new song. It’s called Without You.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G2Eo1PtWKio

‘Nuff said.

Day Numero Uno

Well, folks it’s not even noon yet and the tears for day 1 have arrived. Nothing too wet or messy, just a couple stress-induced tears after finishing an exam for school. You see, while I am now and always have been a cry baby; I have not always been the best student. High school and college were, for me, much more about boyfriends, shopping, and drama than they ever were about learning and grades. Which may sound weird coming from a future teacher, but I believe that to be the very reason I will make a good teacher. I get it. I get that students have a whole lot of stuff going on in their big, all consuming teenage world and coming to spend 90 minutes with me and To Kill a Mockingbird isn’t exactly top on their list of important things for the day. But I also understand how important my graduate studies are in preparing me for this new career and I have surprised myself by becoming a serious and dedicated student. All of the sudden, I want to learn and I see the value in my assignments and I TRY, which leads me to today’s crying episode. I think I got a B on my final exam, y’all. It was hard. It took me two and half hours. And now I’m tired. And nothing it more disappointing than putting in all that time and feeling so dedicated to something and then feeling like you didn’t so well. And I know- it’s a B. I would have NEVER cried over a B in high school or college. I would have felt lucky and wondered how I managed a B. Maybe the difference is in the fact I understand my purpose for this educational endeavor. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m not going to get grounded for a bad grade, I’m not going to see disappointment in the eyes of my parents, it’s that I’ll see disappointment in my own eyes. And that is hard to deal with.

Or maybe I’m just on the last day of my period and my husband left me for the NCAA games and I had too much champagne last night with my friends.

And maybe, just maybe, I got an A after all! I’ll keep ya posted.

Blogging Bandwagon

So I'm hopping on! It seems everyone is part of this great, big blogging world and I just hate to be left out. Originally, I felt I would be better off remaining a reader, rather than a writer, of blogs. I guess this entry, my very first (eek!), is proof I've changed my mind. And while I am still not sure I have anything of importance to actually share, I have decided to give it a whirl.

So how does one go about blogging for the very first time? First, I had to choose a name. CryingThreeSixFive was the perfect title for several reasons: 1) it was available! 2) it's what I do. I cry. Every day. Sometimes because I'm happy, sometimes because I'm sad, sometimes in reaction to a book, movie, TV show, commercial, sometimes in reaction to something sweet, hurtful, or funny. But I will say this- no matter the reason; every one of my days is spent crying at some point or other. And so this was the inspiration behind CryingThreeSixFive- to record, for one year, all my crying experiences. This blog will be a reflection of, a tribute to, a recordkeeping of the next 365 tear-filled moments in my life. If this sounds depressing, don't be alarmed. I promise that for every sad moment, there will be just as many sweet and funny ones. It won't be so bad...but if it is and you decide a blog about crying is stupid and you never want to read another word, be gentle in your criticism. Do you really want to make a crybaby cry...more?