Things that make me sad

I'm a crier. Not, you know, the average crier watching sad movies like Steel Magnolias or The Notebook; I have been found crying over iMac commercials (I'm such a sucker for Kermit the Frog singing "It Ain't Easy Being Green") and the opening credits of "Winnie the Pooh" among other things.

Last night, we actually braved the crowds and saw Star Wars III (I know, I completely went back on my last blog entry...it's a long story) and halfway through it (I won't spoil it), I was crying. The dialogue SUCKED, the acting SUCKED, but all that yucky murder MADE ME CRY!

I just finished watching the season finale of The OC and it left me bawling like a baby. A lot of it, though, also had to do with the fact that I just read that the voices of Fred Flintstone and Tony the Tiger died. That made me sad, too.

An 11 year-old boy was hit by a car down at the bottom of our street yesterday. He was using a crosswalk. One car had stopped; another car attempted to whiz past in the next lane, oblivious to the stopped car in the other lane. All I kept thinking was: it could have been Na. So I spent this afternoon gently telling Na that he can never, ever, ever, ever cross the street without holding my hand. He wanted to know why I was crying. I told him I didn't ever want him to get a bad owie like the boy.

My naturopath called me a "Pusatilla"-- which is actually a wildflower. Women with "Pulsatilla" tendencies are criers. They also tend to be fair haired, fair skinned and blue eyed. After my sister's death and during our adoption turmoil, she gave me a tincture made of Pulsatilla. I took one or two of the smallest doses and cried for an entire day. I called her (in tears) to tell her it wasn't working. She told me that since homeopathic remedies contain trace amounts of "what ails ya" that I'd be feeling blue for one or two days. A few days later, amazingly, my melancholy lifted. It felt awesome, again, to be alive.

I don't mind being a crier, really. All things considered, I'd rather cry out my feelings than keep them bottled inside. And hey, I've got a personality of a flower!