Talks Too Much, Cries Too Easily ...

It goes like this ...

It seems that during my grade school girlhood, report cards from parent/teacher conferences all reported the same news:

"Leslie talks too much, and cries too easily."

Also, I always got C's in penmanship, and frankly, my penmanship still is poor ...

But I'd like to say in my defense re: talking and crying ... I had ideas ... I needed to work them out in the elementary school yard, and, if it needed further elaboration, the classroom ...

For example, how was it that the girls of the yard were banned from wearing pants? A fall from grace, or in this case, the swing, resulted in Carter's Puss in Boots underwear exposed to the entire Broadway ES population. (Yes, Puss 'n Boots ... Yes ... I know.) Pants would have prevented the embarrassing exposure ...

Oddly enough, I suffered a similar fate while walking the streets of Ashland, Oregon this summer. I tripped on air (not metaphorically) and went shoulder first on the sidewalk - exposing my underwear to the entire population of Ashland, Oregon.

I know what you're thinking ... and No, I wasn't wearing Puss 'n Boots this time ... they were Choco Cat/Hello Kitty underwear ... which come to think of it ... might have a similar association as the aforementioned Puss 'n Boots. Oh, my GOD!

Back to my point ... no pants ...

And in winter, I mean, COME ON ... I recall a photo of myself - bundled up in a fluffy coat, but bare legs exposed to the elements ... horrible. Unjust, unfair, and it needed to be brought up, discussed ...

Further, it was grossly and patently unfair that, while in the midst of a double-dutch jump rope marathon, the dolt that was turning the rope, during my turn, lifted up just a little too high, and I tripped ... losing the chance at the title once and for all of "4th Grade Broadway ES Double Dutch Champ."

Well, there wasn't REALLY such a title, or such a contest, but I DID trip and I thought someone should have paid ...

It needed to be discussed.

And as far as crying ... I think I laughed as much as I cried ...

I FEEL passionately about things ... I cry ... I personally will never see the problem with that.

I cried over Mark Gonzales when he broke up with me in the 6th grade. Well ... to be honest his sister broke up with me in his name ... "You are no longer going around ... get used to it." Who wouldn't cry over that?

I cried when I got locked in the library closet with Alan Erickson ... of course, as it turned out he was gay, but at the time ... I mean ... gay meant "having or showing a merry, lively mood ..." back then.

AND I cried when Steve ________ (name removed for fear of embarrassment) chased me into the boys' bathroom.

To be honest, I was faking crying on that one ... it was pretty funny, and frankly, kind of flattering. We were 11 ... life was so simple then.

So, if I talked too much, and cried too easily ... so what?

I still do ...