Monday, 14 November 2011


I already know I’m going to be a fantastic mother because I have successfully cried during every Pixar movie ever made.

If I can empathize with ants, birds, and dragons, then there’s really nothing left for me to learn about feelings. When my future child gets so worked up one day because she picked out this great chic backpack to kick off the new high school year only to discover that her individuality has been shattered by other girls with the refined taste to make the same purchase, I’m not going to be like, You’re an idiot. This doesn’t matter. No way! I mean, maybe I’ll be that way after she goes to bed, but until then? I’m going to be there for her. Her devastation will be my devastation, and beyond that, I am going to be so thrilled that she can spot a hot trend without any influence whatsoever.

I’ve always kind of had a thing for being weepy. I don’t even mean to do it; it just kind of happens to me. Some days, it’s like I was destined to cry, and fate is a close relative of human behavior at music festivals — you just have to go with it.

One thing I don’t like to do, though, is cry in public. One thing I really don’t like to do is cry in public with a guy. Then it looks like the couple at Table 4 is totally breaking up, I can feel the amused speculation of the table next to us, and I’m just trying to tell him about this horrible story I read on the internet that morning.  

Alcohol tends to present a somewhat “enhanced” version of us to the world, and my version teeters on the unstable side. I mean, I’m more confident (duh!), a better dancer (unsure how this is humanly possible), and supremely emotional. It’s like those moments when you laugh so hard, you cry.

I even cried today when a colleague showed me a picture of her first nephew. He is so beautiful and I saw that proud grin on her face and his cute little hands and I completely wept like a retard. 

Anyway, if you ever see me sniffling in a dimly lit bar corner, I’m fine. My “boyfriend” isn’t cheating on me. I’m just recapping the last movie I watched while my tear ducts rebel against me. You can stop staring now.


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