Equivalent of Crying

I'm not an emotional person.  I laugh everything off.  Not so much that I hide behind laughter, but I think that's how it started.  Now, I've trained my emotions to just be odd.  So, when I say that I at least admitted that I was affected by hearing that Whitney Houston died, that's pretty much the equivalent of crying in my book.

I never really understood any of the hullabaloo when Michael Jackson died.  Hell, I was there... kinda.  Now I do.  It just has to be an artist that means a lot to you and had a large impact at some point in the past.  Not only did I admit that I was down about it, but I had a mini-meltdown that was unfortunately documented on Facebook:

I ditched my plans for the night to go out dancing.  I seriously considered walking to a nearby pub and drinking until I thought I could out-sing Whitney.  Instead, I took off to Coldstone to drown my sorrows in ice cream:

Took me about 15 minutes.

I swung by some friends' house across the street from Coldstone, drank a bottle of wine, and they played cards with me until I was sober enough to drive home.  I didn't drive home.  I drove to Steak n Shake and ate a grilled cheese combo (with bacon and a side of ranch).  By the time I got home and I stopped whining on Facebook, I was able to snuggle up with Angel and pass out at like 3:30am.

Annie's not here.  She's at home visiting her family.  It's probably good timing.  She shouldn't have to deal with me when I'm being so ridiculous.  This is way worse than when the Spice Girls broke up, and that kept me home from school for a day.  (Puberty was rough.)

I could only be as devastated if all the members of Boyz II Men died simultaneously,
~RoB