I have a confession to make (again). I’m a crier. I cry when I’m angry, I cry when people are mean to me, I cry when I’m about to get into a physical fight (come on, it was my 20’s and I drank lots of gin). Most of all though? I cry at TV. I don’t need a sweet love story featuring a cancer-ridden young mother and her philanthropist online BFF to set me off, Internet. It’s not that classy kind of crying, brought on by familiar themes and everyone’s worst fears coming true.
Tonight, I teared up when they announced the winners of Best in Show at the national pie-baking contest in Orlando. On the Food Network. This was a new low for me, previously filled by my tears at the end of every single What Not to Wear. Actually, I did cry real tears tonight when I stumbled upon the Dallas Cheerleaders reality show. It was bad enough that they told a woman who must weigh about 85 pounds that she just didn’t have the “body type” (not lean enough) to make the cut. No, but I cried when the last girl fell apart after getting kicked off. “No one wanted this as much as I did! No one will give you more than I will!”
I would blame it on pregnancy hormones if I hadn’t proven time and time again, pregnant or no, that I cannot be trusted in front of a hallmark commercial or the Lifetime channel without a box of tissues. Last night I watched an entire 2-hour movie on Lifetime DIRECTED by and starring Brian Austin Greene about a guy who is left raising a baby on his own for many months after the baby’s teen mother drops him off on Greene’s doorstep.
In the new house, we’ve decided not to turn on cable, and not to have a TV in the bedroom. At first I wasn’t worried; since we won’t have access to the Lifetime and Oxygen channels, how much crying could I do in front of people, anyway? And then tonight. The Food Network? Wow. I suppose I’ll just keep growing my hair so it can fall in front of my face while I busily check on ‘things in the oven’.
At least I never cry watching House. I’m too busy trying to get a glimpse of Hugh Laurie’s ass.