Something came up.  I’ll continue ‘Conversion To Comedic Fan Girls’ tomorrow.

I am not a crier.  What I mean to say is that I do not cry easily.

Well, that’s not entirely true.  I’m in fact a crybaby when I’m watching heart wrenchingly sad movies.  It’s been years, but I still cry four times whenever I see I Am Sam.  And Uptown Girls.  Or any other Dakota Fanning movie out there, apparently.  I just burst at the seams. 

I prefer taking action in the now, while I’m still in the thick of the action and my body’s still pumping adrenaline rather than wait it out.  I’d rather that I make the decision right now and stand up for whatever the hell outcome there is.  It’s how I mucked my way through college and it’s worked pretty well so far.

The last time I really cried, I think, was three years ago when I was still a junior in college.  We were talking about Kubler-Ross’s stages of grief on death and dying and I just cried.  It reminded me of the time when I saw first hand my grandfather on his deathbed back in 2001 and I realized then and there that I’ve never really gotten over it.  In fact, I’ve never really delved into that particular can of emotions before that day. 

But last night, due to a series of unexpected turns of events I had yet another crying episode.  It’d be too long to recount said events but I ended up staring that the blank screen of my computer for about half an hour, beating my ego and myself up. 

I feel suffocated, like I’m drowning.  There’re too many things tugging at me at the same time but I’m not sure that I want to go in any direction just yet.  As I’ve mentioned before, I do not adapt to change quickly, but things keep on piling up that it’s making me anxious.  As much as I want to make decisions right now, I can’t, in fear of fucking up my life irrevocably.  This is my life we’re talking about, after all. 

So anyway this is what I’ve gleaned away from that half-hour of solitude: I can’t always get the things that I want and it’s time that I suck it up and start acting like an adult.  It won’t do to mope around like a teenager; it’d just give the people around me ammunition for arguments.  Do whatever needs to be done with you chin held high and your pride in tact.  Then do whatever it is you want without anybody’s help.

Also (and this is the sad part): I’m a twenty-two year old extremely fat college graduate who can’t land a job in my line of expertise and I still live with my parents.  It’s eating away at my pride that I have to ask my parents for money every time I need to go out of the house but I have no choice.

I think I’m on the verge of depression now; I’m a step away from it.