a required taste for the pretentious as all get out





okay, so i cry all the time
September 10, 2002, 10:30 pm

I can sometimes feel myself slip into a rough patch. I can feel my seratonin level drop well below its normal ridiculously high line. I try to overcompensate the best I can when this happens.

Sometimes I can't try hard enough.

Last night, three people said, "Are you okay? You just don't seem like the normal cheerful Jess that I know..."

I feel guilty when this happens. If I were grumpy and sour all the time, no one would notice my bad moods, or when I'm feeling particularly down. Instead, my friends and coworkers automatically become concerned when I'm not 100%. I don't want to trouble them.

I just want to sulk for a bit until I feel better.

Monday I tried talking to the head varsity coach and I felt like crying. Pretty soon, I was crying.

I felt silly. I can't hold a normal, professional conversation with someone about certain soccer problems without choking up? That's pretty adolescenty, isn't it?

He patted my shoulder. He was upset, too. "I understand you," he said, and then was quiet.

Not as in, "I understand what you're telling me," but "I understand that this is part of who you are."

It was the best thing I've ever heard, I think.

My father and I are similar in this respect. We're emotional, we're dramatic, we're big crybabies. We sob over silly movies and we truly feel others' pain. We think everything is a big deal.

My father has always told me that "we are who we are, and we shouldn't apologize for that." But I've never really believed him.

Here was a guy that I have wished I had as a soccer coach in high school who was telling me that my father was right: I didn't have to apologize. He understood me; what I was about.

And it was okay that I was upset, even though it was nothing to get upset about.

I'm still happy to think about it.


I voted today. Fulfilled my civic duty.

My entire family went together to Annapolis High, our new polling place, and voted.

People in front of the school with their various signs and stickers loved us because my father said, "Well, we're all across the board politically, so you have a one in five chance of getting a vote."


Hug your friends. Hug your folks. Just hug, okay?

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