"My tears don't compromise my strength"

I just saw the coolest commercial, and I love that line.....Kleenex has these commercials, where there a guy, a couch, and a box of Kleenex. Different folks sit and tell there story....there's one with a young woman, talking about losing over 30 friends in Katrina and her reaction/adjustment. She said she often cries but "my tears don't compromise my strength" and that she does what she has to do to get through each day and continue living.

And I'm a crier, so of course I like that line! I can cry out of being hurt, being upset, being saddened...I can cry because of an arguement with a friend, a rough breakup (what other kind is there to have right? lol) a really good commercial or a good chick flick. Those are all normal for me.

What annoys me is when I want to cry out of frustration. And here's my story -
SO...I need to cut back on expenses. I'm a girl that loves to travel and eat out and rarely looks at the pricetag when its going to mean having a good time and memories to share with family or friends. But all frivolousness aside, a mortgage change make you pump the brakes. So I sat and thought, where can I save some money in my monthly expenses.

For years I've put off taking the SIX hour defensive driving course that is SIX hours long....Did I say its SIX hours of mindless, boring and/or gross videos of the hazards of drunk driving and speeding? But it'll save me some money for three years to take the class, so FINE. I figure I'll take it at CUNY. Support em right? *sigh*

$60 for 2 nights 3 hours each. I register and get the confirmation with all the info on where to go. Its uptown at John Jay and starts at 6:30 in room 613. But of course when I get there at 6pm there's a class in there taking notes. CLEARLY not my class.....Ask a security guard where the class is. He gives me another room number. But at 6:25 when its just me and one other guy, we know, something ain't right. While I'm sure no one is beating down the door to take defensive driving, there has to at least be one more person - the instructor. I go back to the front desk. He doesn't know anything. Can you call someone who does? No, the office is closed for the evening. After making another lap around the floor, another instructor said the class is probably at another building and tells me to ask security to call across the street.

Back to security. He calls across, and AH HA! yes! the security guard there tells him the class is at that building. Off I go to the next building. Get to security and ask the room number. Well, of course, he doesn't know. UMMMMM do you know WHO would know the room number? No, its probably on the 2nd floor. Ok, so I go up. Maybe there's a sign in the hall. Do a lap, no sign. Back to security. After explaining that the 2nd floor isn't enough info to get me to my destination he says maybe its in 234 or 224...UMMM ok. Back up. But nope. Both of those classes have folks writing feverishly, and notes on the board that have nothing to do with speed limits..back down I go. Not sure how many more times we did this. Everything in me wants to cuss!!!! Do I give up with the likely chance that they won't refund me and the whole point of this was to save money? Do I try to find it because I've spent over an hour hunting for the class and why give up now? But now, feeling like tears are about to fill eyes, I resolve to go home. And I can't help but to think of my father and his favorite line "what you cryin for? Want me to give you something to cry about?????" Not only am I pissed off at everyone from the person who sent me a confirmation with the wrong info, to the useless security guard, I'm pissed with me..........why on earth should this be soooooooooo grave that it makes me want to cry?

And then I FINALLY got home, and heard that commercial. In no way can you compare the Katrina disaster with my class disaster. But to me the principle kinda stands....everyone's got a different release. Some drink. Some smoke. Some beat their spouses or even small animals. And for me, sometimes a good couple tears shed, can make me go WHEW! glad that's done, now let's move on. Sorry Dad, but I gotta say I think you're *gasp* wrong on this one. While I wouldn't recommend that I bust into tears in front of the security guard, there's nothing that says my tears compromise my strength. And lord knows that Continuing Ed Department will HEAR my STRENGTH tomorrow when I call them for my money.....