You know when you have en emotional outburst, and then feel a little silly about it?
Well, I think I’ve reached a new low. A Kodak commercial just made me cry, and it’s not even PMS season yet. Mom came into my room to ask if I was ok, and I couldn’t figure out what to tell her without sounding like a complete fool.
What have you overreacted to recently? Have you gotten mad, happy, or sad over something that really didn’t require it?
I scream at the TV almost daily over bad grammer, misused words, factual errors, etc. It exasperates my SO, but occasionally I say something witty enought to elicit a laugh. 
Any of my friends (or dorm-mates) will confirm that I’m prone to getting way too emotionally invested in various bits of legislation and such. They say that reading the NY Times should not send someone into a state of true rage.
D’oh! “Grammar,” not “grammer.” :smack:
I get pissed over automated dialer phone ads.
I have a business line and the Do Not Call List doesn’t affect it.
But reacting at all is not rational.
This is probably the silliest one I’ve done that wasn’t fueled by hormones.
When Bush won the the 2004 election, I bawled. Probably for a good half hour, off and on. The guy who lived across the hall and this obnoxious bitch-slut (for reasons completely unrelated to politics) of a girl down the hall started doing a “victory dance,” which mostly consisted of shouting, “We won! Ha! In your face, Purl!” while wiggling, right in front of my open door and I had to leave. I ended up going to a friend’s room across campus, and discovered her boyfriend was as upset as I was, so we had a good cry together. Over the phone. It was a strange night. I don’t think I’d ever said, “dirty Republican bastards” before, where Republican was a dirtier word than bastards. I got over that damned quick, though, since it doesn’t really help anything.
I cried for two hours after the “Six Feet Under” finale this summer. I had only seen the last five episodes (just got HBO) but was really floored.
Fire alarms. I nearly opened a pit thread about them.
We’ve been in school two months. In those two months the fire alarm in this building has gone off FOUR TIMES. And I always end up underdressed for the weather. (Two at night, one while it was raining, and the warmest time it turned off after only a minute then we went back in). The last time (just the other night) I was cursing fairly heavily. And I don’t have PMS either. It’s amazing, because I’m hard to piss off, but this was genuinely pissing me off.
I did too. I cried myself to sleep at 2 in the morning on election night, and then when I came back from Spanish class the next day and found out Kerry had conceded, I cried for ten minutes instead of eating lunch (then I had to leave for my next class, where there were Republicans.) After that class I watched Kerry’s concession speech and cried more than I had since my grandmother had died two months earlier. I was so afraid my roommate was going to come in and see me all pitiful and overreacting, but she didn’t.
I went of on a player in our tabletop RPG for having an annoying character last week.
She always plays whiny characters. I knew this. Her character for this game grew up in affluence, and it was obvious due to the nature of the game that she was going to end up in dire straights, so I knew it was a given that her character was going to be little more than a nonstop whiner.
So last session we finally interacted for the first time in-character, and, naturally, her character whined constantly. In-character, I reacted with annoyance, and when she threatened to leave because everyone was being mean to her, I basically said good riddance.
And then she started whining out of character about how sad her character was that all the other characters had been mean to her, and I said, basically, what the hell were you expecting? That you would whine, and whine and whine, because your life is sooooo hard, and since none of us have difficult lives at all, we would all feel sooooo sorry for you that we would drop everything to rub your feet and fetch you hot chocolate with whipped cream on top? I recommended that she look into playing here character in a less annoying manner if she didn’t want to be ignored. She got huffy and said that we’d be sorry when her character knew something we needed to know and we were all , and I rolled my eyes and said that I couldn’t imagine that ever happening because her character was useless.
I guess I’ll have to apologize this week. In my defense, I was coming down with a nasty cold, so I was tired and grumpy. No excuse for rolling my eyes, though.
The night that I said good-bye to my oldest granddaughter before she left for college, I managed to keep a smile on my face until we were on the way home. My husband put the top down at my request and the night air felt good.
We listened to a jazz station and they started playing a song about the blues in Paris. My sweet girl and I had spent two weeks together in Paris in April of last year and the memory of all those shiney-bright moments came tumbling back at once.
My crying was kind of low and deep-throated and gutteral. I didn’t know I could love this much.
My grandfather passed away in May. I haven’t really cried about it yet; I’ve devastated, but just not a crier. About a week ago, I was grocery shopping, and smacked my cart right into this old man’s cart. I apologized, he apologized, and then I looked up at him, and I burst into tears. So he’s all “Oh my, what’s wrong?” and I’m blubbering and “You… sound… just… like… my grandpa… and I’ll never… hear… his voice… again…” and everyone in the aisle is staring at me and this elderly man who I’ve never met in my life gives me this huge hug and says I must have been a wonderful granddaughter, and he knows my grandpa would be proud of me. And just crying felt like such a huge weight off my shoulders, and that man probably has no idea how much the little things he said to comfort an hysterical crazy girl in the grocery store helped. I wish I’d got his name or something, I want to send him a card.
Well, quite honestly, this has me tearing up.
Other than this, I cried yesterday about not being able to run. I began running in late March and was getting pretty good. I was finally losing the last bit of baby weight I had put on over the past 3 years, was doing good, long distances, and even had my sights set on a half-marathon next Spring. I injured myself (maybe? Still not really sure what happened) on Sept 24th, and haven’t really been able to run since. I can’t afford a gym, so have very little access to free exercise, and I’m just frustrated as all hell. I tried yet again yesterday, and as usual, ended up crying in frustration.
Well, this was several years ago, but it was a total overreaction…to…my son drinking a second glass of water.
He was probably 2 and some months, and we had a bedtime ritual that included a glass of water. He usually didn’t finish his water, but this particular night he finished his water and then asked for another and finished that too and then went to sleep.
And I’m awake all night obsessing about how “excessive thirst” is a symptom of diabetes and how awful it would be if he became diabetic and how hard it would be for such a young child to understand why we had to hurt him w/insulin injections. It was the kind of not sleeping where you just canNOT stop your mind racing. My mind raced all night and I was wondering if the pediatrician could squeeze us in the next day.
In the morning, I realized how insane it would be to call the doctor because my child drank two glasses of water instead of one. He behaved in a perfectly normal way that day and has never given any sign of diabetes since (as if he did then)
Now this makes slightly more sense when you know I have a brother w/ Type 1 diabetes as well as several cousins, but it was still a crazy reaction to drinking 2 glasses of water.
If it makes you feel any better, carlotta, I’ve been a Type I diabetic since I was four, and I don’t remember ever being angry with my parents for giving me insulin injections. Well, with my mother since Dad just couldn’t bring himself to do it. I was always more upset that I couldn’t wear tights and a dress to my doctor’s appointments because of the abdominal palpation part of it.
ErinPuff – the worst part of it was that my roommate was a Republican, and I’d been ranting to her all semester about how crappily the election was going and what a terrible candidate Bush was. And then he won and she was trying to be so nice about it, not saying a word, but I knew she was happy. She even apologized for it because she knew I was upset. I was the lone liberal on the floor that night. Everyone else was so happy about it, and I was busy crying my head off and predicting the terrible things that were going to happen during Bush’s second term. I just felt so betrayed.
Yesterday (Friday, Veteran’s Day), I was in the parking garage on my break and saw a shopping bag sitting between two cars. OMG! I went to the security office and informed them of an unattended bag, then cut my break short to go back to the floor. I must have been ghastly white; I know my hands were shaking, and when the phone rang, I picked it up, then completely blanked on the greeting I’m supposed to give. Anyway, my co-workers asked me what was wrong, and I told them, “There’s a bag in the parking garage.”
Britney: “A bag? You mean, with dogshit in it or something?”
Me: “No, an unattended bag. I don’t know what was in it, but it could have been a you. know. what.”
Britney: “You think it’s a bomb? :eek:”
Manny: “Did you tell security?..Well, good; they’ll take care of it. You know, I was thinking that al-Quaeda might pull something today; it’s Veteran’s Day, plus it’s 11/11…”
Me: “Well, I don’t think this is al-Quaeda!” [immediately doubles over laughing]
Manny: “No, I don’t think al-Quaeda would bomb the [mall] either…I meant, another attack on the Pentagon or something!..What’s so funny?”
Long story short, he called security again for an update. It was just clothing, nothing more. Presumably, someone put it down on the ground, then got distracted by their phone ringing or putting their kid in the car seat or who knows what, and forgot to put it in their car. Anyway, no harm, no foul, but he did say that security said to thank me for being on my toes.
Well, I just cried after reading amaranta’s post. I don’t mean a couple of tears sliding down my cheeks, I mean real sobby blubbery snotty unattractive crying.
There is a music box that will make me cry any time I hear it. It is at my parents’ house in Nova Scotia. It has two pouncing kittens and possibly a ball of yarn on it, and it plays a song I don’t know called “Going Home”. The reason it’s so sad to me is that my grandmother and I were really close - she lived with us for my entire life up until her death when I was 12. That year, my brother had bought the music box for my grandmother for Christmas, because she loved music boxes. Except that Christmas, instead of eating turkey and opening presents with us, she was in the hospital. She was in a coma and died later that day. My brother never got to give the music box to her and it still sits downstairs in her former room. Because of this, any music box will make me teary, but that particular one will make me sobby. 13 years later and I still miss her terribly. I am about to cry again now, remembering the only time I ever saw my father cry. (And yes, here I go again.)
I cried recently after touching a dead plant in my apartment because I felt bad for not taking care of it. I thought the plant was all happy to be going to a new home, never dreaming that it would be neglected like it was. (Yeah, I know, shush!)
Reading lyrics - The Beatles - “She’s Leaving Home”. Pink Floyd and Genesis too, more because of memories associated with them.
The amusing thing is that I never used to cry, ever, and now it doesn’t even take anything at all. I won’t even start to list the dumb things in movies and on TV that have set me off.
I had almost the exact scenario happen to me last summer, not even a month after my grandfather died. I was in a Walmart and an elderly gentleman put his hand on my shoulder and whispered “Excuse me dear” as he walked behind me. I had a can of something in my hand and I just started bawling. He asked me if he’d hurt me and I explained that my grandfather, who had raised me, just passed away and his sweet manner just reminded me so much of my Poppa. He gave me a big hug and told me that somehow, my Poppa knows how much I was hurting and he must have sent him to reassure me that he was okay.
I found out that day that I had a lot of love to give an elderly person and decided to Adopt-A-Grandparent
My mother cried at weddings. All weddings. Weddings on TV. Weddings in a commercial, for Og’s sake. To this day one of my Aunts believes my mother didn’t want the Aunt to marry Momma’s brother, which is not true at all. I had always told her she would have to get over it if she wanted to be invited to mine, if I ever had one. I lost my mother before I got married, but I bet she was crying.
I also teared up due to amaranta’s post. hugs It also reminded me of an over-reaction of my own.
My own grandfather died almost two years ago (it’ll be two years the end of this month). I was in university, and thus wasn’t around during the course of his illness–there was a period of a month between finding out he was sick and him dying.
Excuse me, I can’t seem to even type this eithout crying. Guess I’m not as over this as I thought.
Anyways, before he died he gave my father all of this power tools. Dad had recently built a new building for his buisness, and had had the old one delivered to our house to use as a workshop, so that’s where he put them all. I hadn’t really been in there since he brought it home, because the new building only opened around the time I was leaving for university. Also, since I was away when this all happened, I never really had a chance to deal with the loss–I came home once to visit Grampy, and again for the funeral, immediately after which (and I do mean literally immediately after) I had to leave to go back to school.
So a couple weeks later I finish my oral exam and my research essay, and came home for the holidays. One day me and Mom decided to go for a drive, and before we went we stopped in to see Dad in his new workshop.
I had to leave. I couldn’t stay in there, I was just remined of my grandfather. Shortly after Mom asked me what was wrong. I tried to contain it, but I just couldn’t stop crying.
Gah. I knew I should’ve bought some kleenex the other day.