don't cry for me argentina.

i've been doing some research (if google-ing things counts as reasearch) on how often the average person cries, but i have yet to find anything conclusive. it probably stands to reason, however, that i cry more than the average person and more, in fact, than anyone i know.

many people think of me as this perky, happy cheerleaderish chick with a renegade streak. it is ironic then that a person known for being either giggly or tough-as-nails would be the biggest crybaby on the block (notice my correct use of irony....see last post).

i have been described as many different things in my life, most often rabble-rouser, troublemaker, bitch, or some diminutive of the three. i have, however, never been described as a crybaby, mainly because i took the credo "never let them see you sweat" and altered it somewhat into "never let them see you cry"...and in this case "them" refers to pretty much everybody.

here are the following reasons i've cried in the last week, alone. each time listed denotes a completely separate incident,unless otherwise noted:

1. when i thought of my mfa program ending and how sad i would be.
2. when i thought of my crush's mfa program ending, how i would probably never see her again ever in life, and how completely heartbroken i am over this. i cried over this three different times this week.
3. after yelling at the water heater company for refusing to give me a new water heater and sending me some stupid new part instead, when the water heater is clearly defective. (don't worry- i cried, got back on the phone and the badass in me set them straight. the new water heater is on it's way, bitches).
4. after spending hours moving stuff into my new house by myself because certain people were too busy to help. i cried about this three or four times this week.
5. when i thought about how i will probably never realize my nearly lifelong dream of moving to LA.
6. when my car started making a fucked up noise and i thought i fucked up a tire or something (as it turned out i had a piece of duct tape stuck to my tire that was making a thud when it hit the car's undercarriage). this was not just a cry, but a full-blown temper tantrum involving lots of profanity-screaming, door-slamming and tire-kicking.
7. when i was having issues with my stupid bangs growing out. again, i reverted to three-year-old mode and threw a brush across the room.

this adds up to 11 or 12 times in the last week. pathetic.

it's enough to make me want to cry.