You know you’re hormonal when you watch the top three on American Idol go to their hometowns and get parades and keys to cities and throngs of screaming fans and they visit their families and one of the contestant’s dads is a recovering drug addict who has changed his ways because of the success of his daughter, and watching all that reduces you to tears. And not even just tears - but those little crying hiccups that you get when you watch sappy stuff alone and you’re free to cry and make horrible crying faces and let your mascara run all over the place. The kind of crying that should be reserved for true tragedies but instead sneaks up on you and makes you feel like a complete idiot for being affected by something as ridiculous as American Idol.
At least, this is what I’ve heard.
OMG!!! Me, too, Me too!!!!! I mean, this girl I know… But, totally, bawling!!!!
My bawling took place the night before, when David Cook sang the Roberta Flack song….
Mockarena, you are my new favorite stranger on earth. This is some seriously funny s#@%
ohhhh how i laughed!