Let's make one thing clear. I do not cry at movies. Not even a bit. Okay, I get a little misty while watching the part in A League of Their Own when the husband comes home from the war, but come on you're supposed to feel a little choked up there.
So explain to me why I was crying over this movie?!
Yes, that link is correct. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. I was crying.
Clearly, something in my psychological self is seriously f$%#@* up. There is no other excuse.
I mean it was a cute movie, Karen and I went to see it and we both enjoyed it much. Sweet, and intelligent something that is often missing in movies for teen girls. And beyond that it was a good story. But I wasn't even crying over the little girl dying of leukemia. No I was crying with the girl and her dad parts. And I don't mean teary eyed. I mean tears running down my face as if there was no tomorrow.
*disgusted snort*
Like I said, obviously something wrong with me. So, having proven that I'm a total sap, I'm going to go do something less girly. Like knitting.
Don't laugh. Two pointy sticks can do a lot of damage. I'm serious.
I'm sooo not the person I thought I was...
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