There's No Crying In Baseball.

Last night I had a party for work friends. Busy time of year, especially for all the teachers that just got released from the pen and want to go, go, go while they can. Not a ton of people came, but in some ways that made it nicer. Really good dear friends. Each time I think I'm totally done feeling sorry for myself and mourning the job loss, I discover something new to make me all teary. Last night one of the most awesome people I know brought me a framed photo of our department. It was impossible not to cry at that. Some of my dearest friends brought over enough food and alcohol to feed an army and a new gnome for the garden. I still haven't made it through all the goodbye cards from work. I think I'm ready and then I read one and end up all weepy.
I don't know when my system decided its response to absolutely any emotion at all had to be crying. I hate it! Despite knowing different, crying is perceived as being very weak and irrational. Anger, frustration, exhaustion, happiness, feeling appreciated, feeling unappreciated, feeling loved, empathy, stories of love and happiness from others... they all result in tears. What the hell? There was a Sex and the City where the girls talked about this. Charlotte talked about a time at the gallery when she'd had a shit day and cried in frustration. She said that thereafter everyone treated her like she was a fragile nutjob and would say, "Oh, don't get her upset. She might cry." Yep. You just don't cry in front of others without some sort of negative reaction from them. I think the gnome present was because I cried on the phone with my friend earlier this week. One of my best friends in the entire world couldn't get me on the phone one day and actually wondered if I'd "done something stupid." Ack. And God forbid you ever cry around students. They just don't know what to do with you. A Holocaust survivor spoke to my class last year. I cried through most of it. This woman was just amazing and had so much love and joy to share. So positive, despite the things she'd endured. And the love of her marriage! Her rescuer, a soldier that liberated her camp, became her husband. They've loved one another immensely their entire lives. She relayed a story about being ashamed of scars from the camps and not wanting to go to the beach. He told her, "Darling, don't you know that those are simply your beauty marks?" Boy. That one made me just bawl. And one of the kids was recording the event, so it's been saved for posterity. I got a lot of flak for that. But I think the real kicker is crying around a man with whom you do not have a close relationship. They become so flustered, and you may as well never speak with them again. Irrevocable damage. You may as well have shit your pants in front of them, quite honestly.
So, if I could change this dreadful trait, I most certainly would do so. That and responding instantly with "Dude!" like I'm Jorge Garcia to anything that surprises me or pisses me off.