Smokey Robinson wrote some pretty awesome songs in his day. But as happy as some of them sounded, a lot of them were really depressing.

"You've Really Got a Hold On Me" features the lyrics "Though you treat me badly/I love you madly." "The Tracks of My Tears" and "The Tears of a Clown" are about hiding your sadness with a smile. In "I Second That Emotion," Smokey comes on strong, saying "a taste of honey is worse than none at all" because it'd break his heart.

Talk about a drama queen.

But on Saturday, I guess I wasn't all that much better. See, I'm a Phillies fan. And this month, they gave me a taste of honey and broke my heart. Needless to say, everyone in attendance at the birthday party I was attending could see the tracks of my tears.

It was not my proudest moment, but then, I blame that on the Phillies.

Bystanding girls called it "adorable," which sounds nice. But in reality, being adorable is the worst thing for a guy to be. "Adorable" is neither cool nor dangerous, neither debonair nor classy. "Adorable" is admitting your favorite band is The Cure.

Both coincidentally and ironically (a rare occasion), earlier in the evening, we'd been singing along to "Boys Don't Cry." I might as well have painted my face white and slapped on the eyeliner. On Saturday, I was a goth.

But after I cried like a baby girl with a skinned knee and consoled a friend and fellow Phillies fan who did likewise, things were looking up. Hey, at least the Phils made the playoffs.

I took over the music at the party, cranked up "99 Problems" and the mood was lifted. Minutes later, I was dancing -- poorly, but dancing nonetheless. In the end, I turned out all right. Just like Smokey.