Friday, Nov. 6 2009 @ 3:30PM
One of the awful things about getting a teeny bit older is that you start becoming sentimental about everything to the point where movies and plays that used to have you rolling your eyes suddenly make you break into more tears than an actress trying to get an Oscar nomination.
In the theater, I'll start welling up if something--anything--is well done, even if it isn't the least bit sad or poignant. I actually cried during a couple of parts of Bye, Bye Birdie, and if you repeat that, I'll kill you!
And if a film moves me, my eyes will start leaking in the most humiliating way imaginable, giving out the completely wrong impression that I'm almost human.