Watching television turns me into a bit of a crybaby. It was the worst after the tall kid was born. I remember vaguely a commercial that featured a baby crying over a monitor. I don’t even remember what they were advertising, but I remember sobbing and pleading with the TV for somebody to “for god’s sake, pick up the baby!” Yes, I am the Hallmark card demographic.
The show that has me crying in my cornflakes this season? (You’re expecting me to say Extreme Makeover: Home Edition aren’t you?)
American Idol. I even shed a few tears for the fifty-year-old woman in the…umm…Big Bird-ish costume. My husband—a cold, cruel man who probably laughed when Old Yeller died—reacts to my sniffles with everything from male contempt to laughing his ass off at me. (Okay, he’s not really cold and cruel, but I bet he didn’t cry when Bambi’s mother died, either.)
Husband: What the :censor: are you crying about?
Shan: This was his dream and they just smashed it and now it’s dead.
Husband: He sucked.
Well, yeah, I get that he sucked. I get that his voice resembled a junk fan belt going on a 1979 Oldsmobile POS. Sure, I laughed during the actual so-called performance. That doesn’t change the fact they have this dream and it’s just been shattered, and the look on their faces when Simon stomps on them gets me every time.
Husband: Can I unpause this now?
Me: No. This would be like…if I went into a room and read my first chapter to Carrie Feron, Meg Ruley, and Nora Roberts—
Husband: I’m going to pretend I know who you’re talking about.
Me: Carrie Feron is SEP’s editor, Meg Ruley is Jennifer Crusie’s agent, and Nora—
Husband: I know who Nora is. The others…again, I’m just going to pretend I know who you’re talking about.
Me: Whatever, the point is—
Husband: Nice to know you have one.
Me: (*wifely look of death*) If I went in there and read my first chapter and they said “You suck, you’re horrific, you write like a monkey on crack and it’s without a doubt the worst writing we’ve ever heard,” imagine how devastating that would be.
At this point I’ve pushed him beyond the male capability for sympathy regarding a subject he neither knows nor cares anything about.
Husband: If you suck, you suck. Did these people ever record themselves and listen to it? Videotape themselves doing that karaoke crap?
Me: You don’t get it because you’re mean. You’re a Simon.
Husband: You’re such a girl.
Me: Well, next time you get married, you can move to Vermont and marry some big macho guy. You can title your wedding video Brokeback Electricians.
Viewing resumes. Five minutes later…
Husband: Oh, come on. Are you crying again?
Comment
Brokeback electricians… :lmao:
I was crying last night, too, but only because instead of watching, I got to build LEGO Slave One all through AI and House.
(For you non-StarWars folks, Slave One is Boba and Jango Fett’s ship-of-choice, aka the KSE Firespray)
Comment
Clearly we’re married to the same man. He ADORES Simon. Simon is his hero. He wants to go to the American Idol auditions and sing like shit, just so he can shake the judge’s hands for giving him hours and hours of entertainment. :eyebrow:
Though I laugh at the hideousness of the contestants, too. That show rarely makes me weepy. I mean come on. Some of those people are definitely in it for nothing more than their 15 minutes….
Extreme Makeover Home Edition leaves me in a sobbing heap every. single. time.
Comment
My husband (yes, it was my husband who turned it on) made me watch Extreme Makeover Home Edition for the first time ever Sunday night. This was the night after I read Do They Wear High Heels in Heaven by Eric Orloff. It was a weekend of sobbing for me.
Comment
Jaci is SUCH a meanie! :nookie:
I hear ya, Shan. I cry too–at least until the crappy contestant hocks a loogie on the judges. It’s all about the dream and I’m so there with them when they go into that room. I definitely relate it to the struggle to get published.
Commercials make me cry. I’ve even cried at Brady bunch episodes. It’s a sickness, I know. But I guess it makes up for my true nature :devil:
Comment
Aaaaaaaahhahahahaahaaaa!!!
Brilliant.
I accidentally ran over a bunny the other day and had to pull over to sob uncontrollably, repeating, \”I\’m sorry…\”
After some time patting my knee and saying, \”you couldn\’t have missed it…\” he finally asked, \”are you apologising to me or the rabbit?\”
Later, he asked if we could have rabbit stew for dinner. :grouch:
(And yes, I know they\’re numerous, and a pest, and it\’s just one of those things. I think I was crying for a lot of the things I\’m NOT crying about at the moment, if you see what I mean.)
Comment
I am the crier in my family as well. What makes it worse is my daughter is more like my husband and they both make fun of me. It’s the dream crushing that I can’t take as well. That’s why I have never watched a single episode of American Idol.
It’s just too much for me and especially as someone who’s trying to write and publish I’m not sure I would survive Simon either.
Just know that you are not alone.
Comment
I guess I’m a big meanie too because I agree with your husband… :tomato: Do these people ever LISTEN to themselves? They seriously need to before going on NATIONAL TELEVISION and making asses of themselves. Some of them are just ridiculous:hide:… others funny. :lmao: