On Saturday night, I was THAT girl -- the one who cries at the company holiday party.

Whee.

It was no huge deal. Somebody drunkenly said something to me that hurt my feelings. And because I had a little wine in me too, I immediately became emotional and weepy and sad.

The worst part is that I am not a pretty crier. There are some people who cry and look like the tearful stars of dramatic movies. Their features weaken and their faces start to look all soft-focus. Their eyes spill over with tears, their bodies curl up like pill bugs, their lips get all puffy and pouty. Their sadness only makes them look more delicate, more adorably tragic.

These people don't cry; they weep.

I don't cry like that: I moan. I hyperventilate. And I'm never wise enough to use waterproof mascara.

So at the company holiday party, I wasn't able to catch myself before my face began to swell, my skin got splotchy, my nose and eyes were bright red.

At least I matched the poinsettias.

This entry was posted on Monday, December 11, 2006 at 7:08 PM. You can skip to the end and leave a response.