Crying
I cry at just about anything that either does or doesn’t make sense. I guess I just like to cry and sometimes the mood strikes me. Sometimes it’s because I’m aggravated at not being able to do something well, feeling really ugly (as happened after watching Tim Gunn’s Guide to Style today), miss my family, or don’t know what to do. But I’m lucky, I tend to cry for awhile then get it out of my system. All it takes is reassurance from Matt that I really am capable/beautiful/smart and a hug. Within twenty minutes I can go from a sniffling mess to perfect fine.
Cats
I love our two cats (and my parents’ cat DJ and Matt’s parents’ cats Kilby and Noyce). Our one cat, Willie, loves attention. He wants nothing more than to be petted continuously for hours. The other one, Ollie, will run if you look like you’re going to try to touch him. Here’s my favorite photos of the two of them.
Happy Birthday, belated, yes, I know…I love your cats, and will probably be getting a cat or Angora bunny (or both) when I graduate and start being a real adult (shudder). I am the same way with the crying, though – I think it’s the overachiever/intelligent female syndrome; no matter how good you are, you always think that you’re not good enough. I put it on the same level as the more you know, the more you don’t know, kinda like, the better you are, the better you think you should be. Which is a good rationalization, I think, because it means you need to be capable/beautiful/smart in order to think that you’re not.