The Crying Again and Again Game

Let’s start right off by saying that hormones are interesting things.  They define you in certain ways, they regulate some aspects of your body, and when they come and then go, they can pretty much drive you insane for a little while.  Particularly when they come and throw you into a Texas cage death match called “puberty”.  Oh, it’s so much fun.  Your body changes, your mind starts getting rewired, interesting “things” happen to you–

Fun, right?  We’ve all been through it . . .

Some of us liked it so much the first time we’re going through it a second time.  Why?  Because it’s fun, I just told you that!

"I'm so glad I signed up for this trip.  It's so--they stubbed their toe?  Ahhhhhh!"

“I’m so glad I signed up to go through puberty again. It’s so–my friend stubbed her toe? Whaaaa!”

That’s was me from about, oh, say, 11 AM yesterday until pretty much I went to bed–and even a little after that.  First off, I got upset because of a friend–not because she was mean to me or anything like.  No, because she was in a contest that I knew she’d poured her heart and soul into, and she didn’t so much as win, place, or show.  And I felt bad for her.  Real bad.  So bad that I started crying in the office.  It’s a good thing I have my own little office, because that way I could hide behind the door for a little bit and keep people from seeing me.  I was off and on with that gig a few times during the afternoon.

Then I was home and I was fine.  I had to run out and pick up a few things, then I stopped to eat and I figured, “Hey, a pizza buffet would be great right about now!”  Big mistake.  The pizza and pasta were good, but I had such a carb overload by the time I arrived home that I was in a semi-state of grogginess the rest of the night.  It was so bad all I could do was stare at the screen and think about writing–but write I could not.  Not a single word.

But that’s okay, because when I’m not writing I’m going over scenes in my head, reworking, refining.  So I did that.  With several different scenes.

Oh, joy.

One of the scenes has Annie about the open a magical can of whoop-ass on another student and getting stopped before any damage happens.  Why is she pissed?  Because the student put Kerry in the hospital, and if there’s one thing Annie doesn’t like it’s Kerry in the hospital, and–

Crying Jag Number One.

Okay, over that.  So then I start working on something else:  a thing the kids say to each other years down the line–you might even call it a vow.  A vow that Annie starts, that pretty much defines everything she feels for Kerry and–

Crying Jag Number Two.

Okay, something safe, then.  Kerry’s adventures in his own budding puberty, which leads to something happening to him, which then leads to visions and the telling of dreams and the two of them getting together and talking about them, and then all the emotions of those dreams coming out . . .

That was Crying Jag Number Three, and pretty much the end of the night.

So, I learned an important lesson yesterday:  pizza buffet for lunch, but not when you have writing at night.  Otherwise you won’t be working on the scene in front of you, you’ll be thinking of scenes to come, and that may not be a good thing . . .

"What do you mean the kids can't have any pudding?  Whaaaaa!"

“What do you mean the kids can’t have any pudding? Whaaaaa!”