I Cry About Dumb Things Now.

A quick list of slightly ridiculous things, events or happenings that have made me cry in the past week. Thanks, hormones!

1. My brother, sister and I recently purchased tickets for the Durango/Silverton steam train for my dad and step-mom. His 65th birthday is coming up, and we wanted to do something special. He has always, always wanted to go on this steam train trip, and now he gets to! Did I cry when we gave him the tickets? No. Here is when I cried:

I decided to watch a video on YouTube of the steam train, winding its way through the mountains. I started to cry. Was I crying because I was excited that my dad finally gets to go on this amazing trip? No. I was crying for the loss of the "Old West."

Seriously. I seriously started crying because the Old West is gone. That's how dumb my brain is now.

2. Last week, while driving through Stillwater, I noticed the new Stillwater High School football stadium. It is amazing. It's huge. It's colossal. With "pregnant brain," I am at a loss for words. I don't know why I like it so much. As I drove down Boomer, past the high school parking lot, I took a gander at the many "jocks" probably heading to practice on a July morning. I started to cry. Was I crying because I was so happy for the "jocks" that they have a new stadium? No. Here is why I cried:

I cried for my lost youth. I just kept thinking, "I will never be that free ever again. I will never have that sense of irresponsibility EVER AGAIN. I can never borrow money from my parents EVER AGAIN. I can never drive around Stillwater, smoking cigarettes with Sarah and Morgan in my '82 Honda Prelude, talking about the Smashing Pumpkins and boys we like EVER AGAIN. I can never have that back. It's gone. Forever. I cried and cried. The nostalgia was too much to handle. I decided to turn my nostalgia into anger, a feeling I'm much more familiar with. "Stupid ass stadium! Think WE could've had a nice stadium? Why do THEY get a kick-ass stadium!?" I drove away, huffing about how WE went to the State Semi-Finals...WE could've used a nice stadium....WE would've completely appreciated a stadium. Don't even get me started on the Performing Arts Center...

3. I know that pigeons are "flying rats" that harbor disease, but I like them. They make me happy. They make me think of Italy and New York City and my grandpa. You see, my grandpa raised racing pigeons. Some of the only memories I have of him before his stroke include going out to the coop, listening to pigeons "coo," and watching/listening to my grandpa pet and talk to them. Pigeons sounds have always been extremely comforting to me...until I moved into my new 90 year-old house. This house was for sale for well over a year. It has large eaves and nooks in which pigeons love to "roost."I don't know why I just put roost in quotations. I'm having a problem with the overuse of quotations right now. When we bought the house, I looked up at the roof and said, "Oh, my god! Look at all those pigeons! How cool!" Beau was not so keen on the idea of having our own "coop" on the roof. Apparently, pigeon droppings ruin your roof. Their poop is like acid, or something like that. Everyone in our neighborhood hates pigeons. They even shoot them. Once a neighbor came over with some sort of bb/pellet gun to loan to us for our "pigeon problem." The gun was sitting in the corner when I came home. I shot Beau a look.

"What the hell is that gun doing in our house?" (You see, I am a "as far to the left" pacifist as you can get.)

"Oh, Giles brought that over to help with the pigeons."

"We're SHOOTING the pigeons now?"

"Well, he was just wanting to help."

"Did you kill any? We do not kill things that soar in this family. Get rid of the gun."

Anyhoo...the other day I saw a dead pigeon on our roof, right outside of my window. I have no idea who killed it, but I do not appreciate them, and I intend to slap them very hard some day. Then, when they say, "OW! Why did you do that?!?" I'll be like, "That's how a pigeon feels when you shoot it with a BB gun, except for THEY DIE." Back to my story: I then witnessed one of the weirdest, saddest things I've ever seen. After an incessant "cooing" by a certain pigeon, (which I promised myself I wouldn't name because it will probably be murdered tomorrow), I looked outside to see the aforementioned dead pigeon. The cooing pigeon then proceeded to poke at the dead pigeon with its beak. It then stepped and hopped all over it, as to say, "Wake up! Are you okay?!?" I then started bawling. I raced to the computer and knew what I had to discover...there was no getting around it....I hurriedly typed in "pigeons mate for life" into Google. Yep. They do. That one cooing pigeon was mourning the loss of its one true love. On my roof. The only "safe" roof in the neighborhood. It was probably even my grandpa, come back to Earth as a pigeon...only to be shot and killed, mercilessly, by the hands of gentrified yuppies, reclaiming their right to live near downtown because it's getting "cool" again. They killed my grandpigeon. So, I cried about that.

4. I don't know how Beau puts up with me. The other day, I cried and cried, uncontrollably because my first husband left me. That's right, people...let's type that out again, with more emphasis on the dumb parts this time:

I cried and cried to my new husband, whom I love with all of my heart and more than anyone else in the entire world...about how my ex-husband left me and never called me once to check on me.

The fact that Beau didn't leave at that very moment still amazes me. In my head it was a perfectly rational experience to be having. It was like I was crying to a girlfriend. I think I even said things like, "But WHY did he leave me? WHY? What did I do to HIM?!" as tears streamed down my face and I got snot all over his nice, buttond0wn work shirt.

He just hugged and held me and said, "I don't know, Cari. He's an idiot. He's a total idiot, and you have every right to be upset. He didn't want to 'work' anymore."

I would respond with, "But, he never called me ONE TIME after our divorce! He never said he was sorry without me asking him to say it!!! WAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!"

"I know, I know. He's ridiculous. I'm so sorry that happened to you."

This. This is what the father of my unborn child said to me while I selfishly cried about my ex-husband.

This, my friends...this is what real love is.