I’ve never understood how women in the movies look so good when they cry.  Sure, their eyes exude sadness, and tears may flow, but they somehow still manage to look pretty, composed, and even delicate.  Not me.  When I cry, it’s a full-fledged disaster.  My face gets splotchy and squinched up, my eyes turn beet red, my nose runs — absolutely hideous.  And once I start, it’s very hard to stop.  A good cry can have me going for a while, and I’m completely exhausted once it’s over.  The times I’ve cried at work are probably the worst.  Back in my litigator days, a (very evil) partner made me cry once.  Although I made it safely back to my office before the tears started, lord knows my puffy, red eyes were a dead giveaway to anyone who saw me after the fact.  You should also know that I don’t only cry when I’m sad.  Oh no.  That would be way too boring and predictable.  I also cry when I’m angry, or even frustrated, which I’ve noticed sometimes has the unwanted effect of diluting my side of a particularly impassioned argument.  But unfortunately, I can’t really help it. 

If any of those actresses want to see what a real crying jag looks like, they should give me a call.  I"ll show ’em how it’s done, and maybe I can even make a few extra bucks on the side.

My favorite crying photo, courtesy of Anna and James Photography.

But this time, not food-related (shocking!).  For the first time in years, I got desperate and sent out a load of laundry instead of doing it myself.  Okay, I realize this is not in the least bit luxurious for the majority of people I know, but for me, it is.  They fold everything up so nicely, and even put your (folded!) socks and underwear in their own little bags.  Love it.

I could totally get used to this . . .

Can some of you lovely gentlemen readers out there shed some light on this male behavior pattern?  Boy meets girl.  Boy and girl go out on a date, spend several hours having interesting conversations, making connections, laughing, sharing stories.  Boy and girl part ways.  Boy calls/emails girl the following day and says something like, "I had a great time — are you free next week?" or "You remember we talked last night about Corner Bistro — I’ve never been, do you want to go?"  "Sure," says girl, and tosses out some dates in the near future.  Boy disappears, never to be heard from again. 

Explain this if you can, as I am completely and utterly befuddled.  Any assistance would be greatly appreciated.

. . . for the slow blogging.  Have been feeling a tad too busy lately, but I least I got a good night’s sleep last night.  Sunday night I was attacked by insomnia and couldn’t fall asleep until after 3 AM.  Um, can someone say "stress?"  Blech.

Ok — off to work to move our office across the hall.  My third office move with Pro Bono Net!   Oh — and don’t forget to check out the crawfish.  Story on Gothamist this afternoon.  Just like mini-lobsters!