I Hate Crying.

Let me rephrase that.

I hate it when I cry.

Some people cry so prettily. Their chins dimple and quiver, and silent, solitary tears slide down their pinked cheeks.

When I cry, my face contorts itself into this grotesque pucker, and tears smear themselves every which way on my face. I sob noisily, hardly able to breathe, and my nose runs.

Have you ever seen a film in which a crying woman's nose runs?! No. (If yes, tell me which because I don't believe you.)

A while ago, I decided that I would train myself to cry in a more controlled and attractive manner (I know, this is ridiculous), but I have been unsuccessful because (1) I don't cry all that often and (2) when I do cry, I am too preoccupied with struggling for oxygen to think about how I look.

Now, I have simply decided that Mr. Whoever-it-will-be will have to be Mr. Kleenex-Tissue.