I gotta say, that I’ve done some things in my life that make me sad. I’ve cheated on lovers and had to admit to them that I did. I’ve failed classes and shown up with homework not done. I’ve been at rehearsals for shows I didn’t like and wasn’t willing to work hard on. I’ve had to ask my parents for money. Man, I’ve done a lot of stuff that bums me out.

But for some reason, every time I break a glass it makes me terribly sad. It’s the sound of the glass coming down, it’s the destruction of something so lovely and so useful. And there’s the horrible wait as the glass is heading to its doom, it always takes a certain amount of time for it to drop… in fact, there’s a moment before it drops, when you know it’s going to… Jesus, that’s awful.

I mean, a lot of times there is a drop that’s about to happen and you catch it, and you congratulate yourself. Think of how many times you’ve been so relieved, and felt so smart and fast, when you’ve caught that glass right before it falls. And sometimes, the glass doesn’t fall, doesn’t break, it just tilts over and you dump water or milk or diet coke or whatever all over the table, and it never occurs to you how bad it could have been because you’re pissed about spilling shit all over everything.

And that’s the thing, no-one ever gets mad about a broken glass. There’s something universal about it. In fact, I gotta say, if someone comes over to your house and breaks a glass and you get mad at them, it says something about you. It says that you don’t understand that people genuinely are trying to do the best they can with their lives and that sometimes we don’t live up to it. If someone breaks a wine glass at your house and you get mad at them… I mean, what the fuck, they were drinking wine at your house, they got drunk, what were you *thinking* was gonna happen? You should look at glasses that house alcohol as essentially disposable, and if you get to re-use them, you’re ahead of the game.

I just broke a water glass. In fact, I broke it on my brand new poured concrete floor in our kitchen. And, seriously, my night was over when that happened. I was just so fucking bummed. Jordana and I were talking shit and watching a dumb movie and she asked me to get her a glass of water, and in the course of doing it, I fucked up and dropped a glass, completely full of water, right into the drying cement.

(Jordana and I realized something today. We like asking the other to do things for us, because we like doing things for each other so much. A lot of times, she’ll ask if I want her to make the bed, or I’ll ask if I can get her something from the kitchen. It’s stupid little stuff, and it’s actually just a game, like we’re flirting with each other. But it’s nice that we both understand what it is. It’s not the kind of thing we keep score on, and, in fact, we can totally refuse to do the nice thing without any hurt feelings because we’re asking for stupid shit anyway. But it seems to be a good part of being married for us.)

(The bad part is talking about money. She doesn’t like to be stupid about money, and I’m teetering on the edge of stupidity always. Plus, she’s wrong.)

I dropped the glass because I was pouring water into it while I was checking my voice mail. I thought I was being awesome. I wasn’t. I broke a glass.

God, it sucked. I’m going to bed.