At some point in my life, I’ve gone from a rough-and-tumble faux-macho child/teenager, to whimpering, crying and bawling at the drop of a hat. Not in the pain sense, or the depression sense, but watching TV (occasionally) will do it, and movies are very good at it, regardless of the subject. Even songs have that effect on me.
I’m fairly certain it’s for all the hell I gave my mother as a kid. She is a famous movie-crier; Space Jam is my favorite one to reference, although Air Bud seemed funny at the time. Why did I have to insistently make fun of her for it? And why did she not tell me what the word “karma” meant at an earlier age?
To bring things full circle, I assume that you’ll want a couple recent movies that made me cry, that probably wouldn’t affect your average citizen like that. Fine: WALL-E, The Black Swan (only a couple tears!), Step Up 3-D, Brokeback Mountain (of course. I was an absolute sobbing wreck the entire second half. I could barely see), every time I watch Rent (the movie)… Actually, speaking of theater, I was the same way during Wicked – both at the end of the first act and the second act. I stood in line at intermission all puffy-faced, waiting on the restroom in a huge line of unaffected men. Avenue Q, I was so proud of myself for making it to the end, then some asshole friend of one of the actors had one of the puppets present a ring to his girlfriend and he proposed to her in front of the whole audience. I cried, of course.
Actually, marriages really get to me, also. I realized when I absolutely crumpled during The Office,
[SPOILER ALERT, if you are several seasons behind]when Jim proposed to Pam, and then later at their wedding. [/SPOILER]
It has made it clear to me that if I ever enter into any sort of marriage-like agreement with someone else, they will have to be the one to propose to me, because I’ll never be able to do it without crying. Hint: don’t do it anywhere there are newscameras or a YouTube video shot in progress or anything. I don’t need that on the internet. The same goes for the ceremony. I might have to craft a body-double and just watch via a live camera feed, because I feel like it’d be terrible for decorum to have my mascara running everywhere. Alternatively, I guess that’s the one practical purpose of a veil; by the time it’s lifted, my husband would be screwed if he wanted to take it back at the sight of my zebra-striped mascara face. (I like to think that when I cry, I look just like women in movies. I’m sure it’s not actually as beautiful)
I should also be glad I’ve finished graduating schools for the moment, because I definitely cried at my high school graduation (rehearsal, no less), and also at my college graduation (I managed to make it through the obligatory post-walk photo first, though.