That smarts

ge·nius noun \ˈjēn-yəs, ˈjē-nē-əs\
a : a single strongly marked capacity or aptitude
b : extraordinary intellectual power especially as manifested in creative activity
c : a person endowed with transcendent mental superiority;especially : a person with a very high IQ

No, I'm not talking about me. So don't worry Mensa, you can stop sending me those cease and desist letters. 

Growing up with a father who is genius never seemed like that big a deal. It wasn't until I got older that I recognized just how expansive the chasm-like divide really is between someone with just typical "above-average" intelligence who'd gone to say *chuckle* law school, and a true genius.   

I mean, I knew he had a PhD in atomic physics from the University of Connecticut.

And that our deep thoughts differed in their respective complexity:
Me: "Whatcha thinking about Dad?"
Dad: "Quantum entanglement. Whatcha thinking about Deb?"
Me: "If Penny [our cat] would change the color of her fur if she could."

And one Christmas, while cleaning out a closet, I stumbled across his thesis defense: Inelastic Energy Loss and Charge State Measurements of Inner-shell Excitations in Xenon Ion-atom Collisions...that's what SHE said.

And while I may have misspelled the word genius on three separate occasions in the first draft of this post, my top-shelf genetic stock does make me curious about how my own head smarts stack up. 

For a mere $18, Mensa's online test offers insight into your synaptic workings. So during a particularly slow day at work, I figured why not check it out? A decent IQ score might even make my parents proud enough to finally tell their friends that I work at a law firm and not as a grave robber. 

WARNING: Mensa's online timed test contains monotonous questions that are shockingly irrelevant to your working day. Should you run short on time during the testing process, because you started talking with your co-workers about Mad Men, went to get a cup of coffee, or other similar work-related scenario — although really, what sort of idiot takes this thing at work — stop and restart the test at a later time. Do not select all (C)s like they told you to do on the SATs. They lied to you, it doesn’t work. 

Taking this test at work may result in one or more of the following: comically low test scores; future mistrust of cognitive function; uproarious laughter from friends and family; shame-based hallucinations; and an erection lasting longer than 4 hours. 

The Doctor is In

"Hi Peanut!"

"Hi Mom. How are you guys? How's the farm?"

"Oh we're fine. So, I ran into Mrs. Morgan the other day and she told me Claire is getting married. She met her husband online. Anyway, are you seeing anyone? Your father worries about you, you know."

"No mom, not right now. It's been busy at work..."

"Well, don't worry. I've been praying to Saint Jude for you. He's the patron saint of lost causes-"

"Oh no, I think I'm losing you Mom, no reception in the Metro."

My parents — God bless them — had to have thought that with three grown children surely they'd have at least one grandchild by now. Or so they remind us every holiday. But whether it's a sign of the changing times or that gypsy my dad hit with his car, continuance of the family lineage has been in a holding pattern.

Since the DC market enjoys such a disproportionate male advantage, online dating would at least provide privacy while I rummage like a racoon through the dumpster of dating leftovers.

According to its website, eHarmony founder Dr. Neil Clark Warren spent three years developing his hypothesis on the keys to a successful relationship. What is this groundbreaking concept? The idea that two people who are more alike will be more successful in a relationship than two people who are less alike.

It took a clinical psychologist a quarter of a decade to put that together. What makes it infuriating, is that we need to pay for this service! eHarmony is a roaring success because otherwise the dating community wouldn't ever figure out how to pair off.

"Try putting the lady who wants kids with that guy who doesn't. No? What about the commitaphobe? Still nothing? Arrgh what are we doing wrong?!"

Maybe I'm over-simplifying things. Perhaps the interactions that make up a relationship's dynamic are a complex tapestry of meaning and nuance and analysis of such is best left to the experts. For the sake of argument, I'll take a stab at resolving a routine relationship spat:

"DEAR ABBY: My husband has ice water with every meal. During breakfast and dinner he loudly crunches all of the ice in his glass throughout the meal. I have asked him not to do it at the dinner table, but he thinks I'm being unreasonable. At breakfast, I usually eat in another room and wear noise reduction headphones. I'm deaf in one ear and have only about 60 percent hearing in the other. We have been married for more than 30 years and he claims he has "always" done it and it's part of his enjoying his meal. Am I selfish to ask that he not crunch while I'm sitting next to him?
-- HATES THE CRUNCHING IN NEW MEXICO"

Delphic Maxim

It wasn't until I turned 30 and received my key to the kingdom of relationship insights (you'll know more when you get there — I'm really not supposed to talk about it) that I understood why so many people spend their twenties less liked than Anne Hathaway.

Our twenties are quite possibly the worst time to seek out a romantic partner. Unbeknownst to ourselves, when we're in our twenties, we're actually terrible judges of our own character. But ask any twenty-something and they'll tell you that they're smarter than the average person. And harder working. More mature and pragmatic. Less likely to panic is a crisis. And a better driver.

But by thirty, both you and your potential mate will have had a few real world experiences under your belt that give you a better sense of the person you truly are. It's likely you've dealt with some sort of profound personal or professional setback; or the death of a loved one; or a serious health issue; or been dishonorably discharged from your position as hall safety monitor following the earthquake because — when sensing disaster — rather than lead a hall full of lawyers to safety, you elected to save yourself shouting, "I'll see the rest of you in hell!"

And once you've established this heightened sense of self, your dating sensor becomes equally honed and highly sophisticated, sorta like that computer screen the Terminator used. You're able to instantly analyze the data received from a potential dating partner and calculate the likelihood of success.

Hipster skinny jeans + PBR + misuse of irony

= MISMATCH

Polo shirt + hair gel + douchey sense of entitlement

= MISMATCH 

Suit and tie + piercing blue eyes + aura of education + demonstrates basic empathy towards others 

= TOUCH PACKAGE TOUCH PACKAGE TOUCH PACKAGE TOUCH PACKAGE TOUCH PACKAGE TOUCH PACKAGE—

*Wham Wham* Sorry about that.

It does still occasionally malfunction. Which I tried to explain to that judge, but he went ahead and charged me with eleven counts of lewd conduct anyway.

The Charge Of The Light Brigade

Half a league, half a league,
  Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death,
  Rode the six hundred.
'Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns' he said:
Into the valley of Death
  Rode the six hundred.

'Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldiers knew
  Some one had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
  Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
  Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
  Rode the six hundred.

Boston

On April 15, 2013, two bombs exploded near the finish line of the Boston Marathon. My heart aches for the city, the victims, and the race. I pray that whoever is responsible for the attack will be found and brought to justice. 

If only they had known that there's no way to extinguish the spirit of the marathon. If only they had known that behind every Boston runner is a path of a thousand obstacles so much greater than this that have already been overcome. If only they had known that you don't f*ck with Boston when it comes to their sports.    

"I am fighting God. Fighting the limitations he gave me. Fighting the pain. Fighting the unfairness. Fighting all the evil in me and the world. And I will not give in. I will conquer this Hill; and I will conquer it alone." ~George Sheehan

AMA

Modern medicine has confirmed what many of my exes have long suspected: I have an atrial septal defect, otherwise known as "ASD" or a hole in the heart.

Faced with this potentially life altering medical condition, there was only one course of action I could take. Fly to France, forge the required medical certificate for the Paris Marathon, participate in said marathon (which I only ran 13 miles of, I mean, let's be practical, I do have a hole in my heart) and then travel on to Amsterdam. 

Amsterdam is an easy destination match for an ASD diagnosis. With its cannabis coffee shops and red-light district, the Dutch seem like the sort of people who are likely to appreciate my genetic inclination to pass out in bars.

Doors

“close some doors today. not because of pride, incapacity or arrogance, but simply because they lead you nowhere”

~ Paulo Coelho

Inverse T and Me

I went to the emergency room this Saturday night. The doctor diagnosed me with the worst case of buzz kill he'd ever seen.

Exactly one and a half drinks into the night, I felt an overwhelming need to introduce my face to the floor of a local hookah establishment. It was a potential Code WGW (White Girl Wasted) and within minutes an ambulance arrived.

Many of you have probably heard assorted tales of interactions between athletes and medical personnel. When I'd imaged these stories they were always lighthearted in nature....

EMT: "I can't get a pulse over here!"
Patient: "Gotcha! I'm a distance runner, you see. My naturally low pulse rate is hilariously confusing."
EMT: "You rascal!"
Patient: "Now put that gurney away, drinks are on me!"

The reality of it wasn't nearly so charming. Turns out, unless you're about to step onto an Olympic podium, doctors are hesitant to believe that it's exercise and not, say, opium causing your reduced pulse rate. And oh by the way all their machines are pre-set to beep if it drops below 50 so don't expect to get any sleep during your seven-hour wait.  

So me and my little brother - who deserves a very special shout-out here, for not only soldiering through a seven-hour ER wait, and being the first to call 911 following my face plant in the bar, but for also finding a way to put the other patrons at ease as I was hoisted onto a gurney in the middle of their shrimp tempura roll by joking, "She always finds a way to get out of paying the tab, am I right folks? This guy knows." - passed the time by Googling the potential diseases I could be dying from.

When I was finally discharged it was at 4:30am, against medical advice, and with the discovery of an inverted T-wave on my EKG. What actually happened is still kinda a question mark. Unfortunately, so is the upcoming Paris Marathon.

But don't feel too bad for me, it just means that my trip to Paris could include a lot more cheese and wine and a lot less running 26.2 miles, which is, apparently, how most normal people travel overseas.

Love the Run You're With

The difference between training for a marathon during your twenties and training for a marathon in your thirties is best summed up by the woman I recently passed while running the other day who commented, "Bless her heart, it's so nice to see that special-needs lady staying in shape."

At 23, 25, 27, and 28 I was bounding out of bed at 6:00am ready to hit the pavement for a five miler with my girlfriends. At 31, my morning runs feel more like I'm trying to convince an overweight house dog to go out during a rain storm. "Stop growling at me, you need to go outside! Oh god, how did you get stuck under the bed?"

But that's not all to change over the years. Here's a glimpse of running Then and Now....

20s: "After this run, I'm gonna rock John's world. Booyah!"
30s: "After this run, I'm gonna rock that Porta-John's world. Boom!"

20s: "Come run with us ladies, the more the merrier!"
30s: "Can you believe that skinny whore wants us to pace her?"

20s: "Only two more miles girlfriends! We're all doing great on this run together!"
30s: "I can't go on! Just leave me here to die alone!"

20s: "I love how fit running keeps me!"
30s: "How the f*&k have I gained weight doing this?!"

20s: "Never leave another runner behind!"
30s: "Well I can't get my car back up here to retrieve your body, so you'll have to keep going."

20s: "This marathon body will knock your socks off!"
30s: "This marathon body is falling apart. Where are my compression socks?"

Another decommissioned Saint...

Some girls get roses. Some girls get jewelry. This girl gets a random e-mail love declaration from a former co-worker. Barkeep, I'm gonna need you to vodka up this wine.
_____________________________________________

From: Eric Smythers <esmythers@gmail.com>
Date: Thu, Feb 14, 2013 at 12:36 PM
Subject: Happy V-Day
To: Deby Spicuzza <daspicuzza@gmail.com>

Just thought I would take the occasion to declare my love for you, Scooz.

Hope all's well.

______________________________________________

Wishing all my readers an equally ridiculous Valentine's Day!

Blue Monday

Late January is a rough time of year. What with its yuletide debt, post holiday weight gain, and temperatures as comforting as a Scottish dungeon, people now find it so bleak that the last Monday of the month has been dubbed Blue Monday. 

In honor of the holiday bills, broken resolutions, and upcoming weeks of unrelenting winter misery, I've complied a very special list of all things obnoxious, annoying, or otherwise insufferable:

1) People who are excessively grumpy in the morning. What are you seven? Life's not a Garfield comic strip, and no one with any level of functioning gray matter cares that you're not a morning person. Wake up and learn how to hid your suffering like an adult, or a New England family.
2) "Fashion" Designer Betsey Johnson.  
3) Condescending metro operators. "C'mon now folks, if I can't get the doors to close, I can't move this train. This is an eight car train, there's no reason to crowd one set of doors, it's not that complicated." Now I'll admit I haven't mastered the art of metro boarding while alongside 10,000 other riders during rush hour, but know what's on my list of "not that complicated?" College.
4) Work meetings that have derailed from the agenda and devolved into just a series of passive-aggressive statements. Really people? Didn't we all get enough of this from family dinners over the holidays?

5) Men in their late twenties who have let themselves go. We notice. And we alllll talk about it. 

Insomnia and Me: 5 Things I've learned before 5:00am - Part IX

1) The Talented Mr. Ripley is an incredibly under-rated movie.
2) Spooky action at a distance occurs faster than the speed of light.
3) Looking for an interactive cute cat picture website? Kittenwar might be the site for you.
4) Ever felt like you're not doing enough for the greater good of the world? You will after you read these 10 inspirational stories.
5) Spoiler Alert: I don't actually have insomnia, I'm only up because I'm getting over the flu and am coming off of 72 hours of straight sleep. Well, 50 hours of sleep, 22 hours of vivid hallucinations.

Nemesis

Along every career path there exists an Office Nemesis. 

What makes the Office Nemesis relationship so interesting is its often one-sided dynamic. Your average feud will originate from a dramatic event, such as an affair, violent fight, or sports team loss, but the catalyst behind an office feud is far more subtle, typically some imagined slight or perceived insult. 

For example:

Memento

"He never un-jams the printer because he thinks his job is more important than mine."

"She asks super involved questions at the very end of meetings because she has no respect for my schedule."

"He's always looking at me with his stupid face."

Because the source of these office dramas is largely self-manufactured, the resulting feuds are often played out entirely in our own minds.

As someone involved in a real-time interoffice clash, it's worth some reflection. Maybe I do keep looking at them with my stupid face? Certainly, I'm receptive to the idea that a little perspective can keep interactions with an Office Nemesis from ending in unprofessional behavior, rage blackouts, or dumping a body into the Potomac.

In my willingness to embrace a more open-minded approach to workplace politics, I turned to my younger brother for his sensible, pragmatic advice. To which he responded:

"Y-You've been freelancing for over a year...you don't even have any coworkers."

Hmmmm. Problem solved I suppose. 

Soulshine

When you can't find the light,
That got you through a cloudy day,
When the stars ain't shinin' bright,
You feel like you've lost you're way,
When those candle lights of home,
Burn so very far away,
Now you got to let your soul shine,
Just like my daddy used to say.

He used to say soulshine,
It's better than sunshine,
It's better than moonshine,
Damn sure better than rain.
Hey now people don't mind,
We all get this way sometime,
Got to let your soul shine,
Shine till the break of day.

I grew up thinkin' that I had it made,
Gonna make it on my own.
Life can take the strongest man,
Make him feel so alone.
Now sometimes I feel a cold wind,
Blowin' through my achin' bones,
I think back to what my daddy said,
He said "Boy, in the darkness before the dawn:"

Let your soul shine,
It's better than sunshine,
It's better than moonshine,
Damn sure better than rain.
Hey now people don't mind,
We all get this way sometime,
Got to let your soul shine,
Shine till the break of day.

Sometimes a man can feel this emptiness,
Like a woman has robbed him of his very soul.
A woman too,
Lord knows,
she can feel like this.
And when your world seems cold,
You got to let your spirit take control.

~Allman Brothers

Insomnia and Me: 5 Things I've learned before 5:00am - Part VIII

1) During World War II at the Sweden-Norway border, 77 was used as a password, because the tricky pronunciation in Swedish made it easy to instantly discern whether the speaker was native Swedish, Norwegian, or German.
2) Walking through a doorway effects your memory.
3) Where can I find an adorable video of a cat hugging a baby kitten who is having a nightmare? Right here.
4) Your golden birthday is the year you turn the same age as the date on which you were born (e.g. turning 22 on the 22nd). The two most significant golden birthdays are 23 and 31. 
5) The Ancient Astronauts theory "proposes that historical texts, archaeology and legends contain evidence of past human-extraterrestrial contact." Upon review, I'm not saying it was aliens, but it was aliens.

Far better

"Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs even though checkered by failure, than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much because they live in the gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat."

~Theodore Roosevelt

He and I

When words run dry,

he does not try,
nor do I.

We are on par.

He just is,
I just am
and we just are.

~Lang Leav

Strange Loop

A strange loop is a phenomenon in which, whenever movement is made upwards or downwards through the levels of some hierarchical system, the system unexpectedly arrives back where it started.

Been there, right? It’s an experience anyone can relate to. That moment when – after putting in so much legwork, after making so much progress towards your goal – you suddenly found yourself rethinking a career, restarting a diet, or reawakening in my ex-boyfriend's bed.

The upcoming inauguration has me reflecting on my own four-year term of WMA residency – or as my parents refer to it – the life I've chosen over giving them grandchildren. Like any good politician, I first presented myself with a laundry list of my personal and professional accomplishments; all the reasons I’m better off now than four years ago. 

But I couldn't quite shake the idea that, despite my efforts, I wasn't any wiser for them. It's like the old saying goes: watch Megashark versus Crocosaurus once, shame on Netflix, watch Megashark versus Crocosaurus twice, shame on me.

Usually I turn to wine for my inspiration, but on this occasion I looked to the Greek philosopher Heraclitus who reminded me that "you could not step twice into the same river." Because the river is continually flowing, it's no longer the same river you stepped into before. And likewise one's self is similarly evolving.

For anyone who's ever experienced an unsettling change in their personal hierarchical system, hopefully it's comforting to remember that change itself is what makes it impossible for any of us to truly find ourselves right back where we started. 

Wanna get high?

By far, the most common running question I'm asked is: What does a running high feel like?

So, full disclosure to newbie runners, part of what makes the running high so special is its elusiveness. Not every jog around the block is going to be a magic carpet ride of euphoria. The reality is, it's a million times more likely you'll feel each of the following sensations ten times over before you'll ever experience a runner's high:

• The Dehydration;
• Midnight soreness;
• Swamp shoe;
• Explosive chaffing;
• Inappropriate sweating; and/or
• Visceral instability.

But once you've earned your stripes, imagine that you're about three-quarters of the way through your daily run when suddenly, you notice a growing feeling of elation. Your legs feel a little stronger, your pace a little quicker. You feel like you could run another mile, another 10 miles. The sidewalk clears as the greatest song in the universe comes on your iPod. The Running Gods nod their approval. Each stride is enhanced, you're no longer a runner, you're a warrior. And is that, is that Olympic Gold Medalist Usain Bolt cheering you on?

U. Bolt: "Excellent form lady runner!" 

That said....

Proud Mary

Left a good job in the city
Working for the man every night and day
And I never lost one minute of sleeping
Worrying 'bout the way things might have been

~Creedence Clearwater Revival, Rolling On The River

Banged

Sober Self: "Wake up, you whore!"

Drunk Self: "Wha? What's goin' on? What time is it?"

Sober Self: "Look at my hair! What did you do last night?"

Drunk Self: "Shhh. It's early, come back to bed."

Sober Self: "Get up! This is an emergency. What happened?!?"

Drunk Self: "I just...cut your bangs...or whatever. It's cute."

Sober Self: "It's not cute."

Drunk Self: "You look like Audrey Hepburn."

Sober Self: "I look like Marie Osmond." 

Drunk Self: "Well, haters gonna hate."

Sober Self: "I have to go to work like this."

Drunk Self: "God, if you don't like it, just pin it back or something. You're such a bitch in the morning."

Sober Self: "What was that??"

Drunk Self: "You heard me."

Sober Self: "That's it! We're going running."

Drunk Self: "Wait! Wait, I'm sorry. Why don't you just lay down for a few hours and then we'll figure this hair thing out together."

Sober Self: "Too late, get dressed."

Drunk Self: "I'm going to puke on your new running shoes."

Sober Self: "You better, you had five Long Island Iced Teas last night. Do you know how many calories are in those?"

Usually I don't get along with Scorpios

Calvin and Hobbes launched on November 18, 1985

Paranoid Parrot

Welcome to my World 

Meg Ryan is a LIAR

Despite what romantic comedies would have us believe, the following romantic gestures are highly over-rated:

• Emotional reunion in the rain; 
• Extended dance sequence; 
• Feeding one another (let the record show the only time it's ever appropriate to feed your significant other is after one of you has been hit by a bus); 
• Bathing one another (see above). 

While glorifying the amorous use of water is, quite frankly, irresponsible, on the part of the film industry, it pales in comparison to the misportrayal of the number one, single most over-rated romantic activity of all time: the lazy Sunday in bed.

Oh sure, on paper it sounds delightful - a full day devoted entirely to gentle napping with that special someone. But the stark reality is a different story. My most recent "lazy Sunday" had all the relaxing zen of an internment camp. Ladies, don't be fooled, the moment you set foot in his apartment you're not a guest, you're a POW. And once captured all other plans you had for the day are deferred for the duration of your custody.

9:00am: The morning's off to a good start with some, er, adult cuddling. But it's a clever tactic to leave me drowsy with my defenses lowered. Suddenly I'm ensnared in a snuggle/sleeper hold. There's no countermaneuver. As I lapse into unconsciousness I think, "Must...escape...the dry cleaners closes at noon..."

3:00pm: W-Where am I? Hungry and disorientated I awaken behind enemy lines. With the fate of my "To-Do" list hanging in the balance, I negotiate for my release. But is that, is that reruns of The Wire I hear?

4:00pm: Morale has stabilized. I was able to convince my captor to allow me food rations so we ordered Chinese. I requested extra hot mustard sauce...but I didn't get any. War is hell.

10:00pm: Stockholm syndrome sets in and the mission fails. There's still a chance I could get to the grocery store today... but first let's watch just one more rerun of Mad Men.

Weather the weather

"Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet." ~Roger Miller

"There will be a rain dance Friday night, weather permitting." ~George Carlin

"I ran my fastest marathon in the rain." ~Bill Rodgers

"It always rains on tents. Rainstorms will travel thousands of miles, against prevailing winds for the opportunity to rain on a tent." ~Dave Barry

"The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain." ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

"If a kid asks where rain comes from, I think a cute thing to tell him is 'God is crying.' And if he asks why God is crying, another cute thing to tell him is 'Probably because of something you did.'" ~Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey

Fifty Shades of Stupid

One distinct advantage of utilizing dating websites for which I'm forever grateful is the "essay portion" of the online dating profile. Most dating sites display the standard stats: height, occupation, education, and then encourage you to go on and include additional information about yourself that your potential partner might find interesting. This prompt is intended to be the difference between a missed connection and a soul mate (e.g. No way, I thought I was the only one who acted out The Pirates of Penzance with my cats) but actually serves to alert you to potential narcissists, creepers, and weirdos.

As noted in a previous post, the more clever of the pack can sneak below our wackiness radar and enter into the dating pool. But the weaker members of the herd, less skilled at fraudulent word smithery, are forced to show their hand and lay their pair of crazies on the table. 

For example. I came across the profile of a fellow who shared the following tidbit about himself: He felt that his eyes changed color...

...based on his mood.

Like a mood ring, only way, waay stupider.

Initially, I think, alriiight, stranger things have happened, it's not outside that realm of possibility that this guy does have some sort of bizarre eye anomaly that causes a spontaneous change in eye color. And while linking it to his mood is so nonsensical my knee-jerk reaction is mercy kill him for the sake of future generations, this eye color change must be so dramatic and noticeable that he felt it warranted mention lest his date be startled. But he went on to elaborate. His eyes changed color - not from blue to yellow or hazel to red - but from brown...to dark brown.

Brown to dark brown. A hue differential so nondescript and utterly unnoteworthy that even M&M's recognized the insignificance and gave the tan color M its walking papers in 1997. And since that fateful day, no one has spent more than one minute of cognitive thought on the distinction between brown and dark brown, if for no other reason than unbridled fear that should they address an issue so staggeringly trivial they would be dragged into the streets and stoned for forcing anyone around them to opine, even for an instant, on the all encompassing idiocy of said concept.

Except for with shoes.

Obviously.

Insomnia and Me: 5 Things I've learned before 5:00am - Part VII

1) The 1908 Tunguska event is generally agreed to have been caused by the air burst of a large meteoroid but other explanations include time travel, alien attack and the testing of Nikoli Tesla's Death Ray.
2) I have a special type of night vision that allows me to find the one lone object in an otherwise empty room and trip over it.
3) An O visa is granted to a non-citizen "...who possesses extraordinary ability in the sciences, arts, education, business, or athletics..."
4) Your Life Path Number is determined by your date of birth and purportedly reveals a person's nature, talents and true calling. Like Alec Baldwin, Alfred Hitchcock and Fidel Castro, I'm a 3.
5) What's the right amount of pie to eat if you can't sleep at night? All the pie.

Fractured

My doctor diagnosed me with a stress fracture and told me that the recovery period was 6-8 weeks.

My attorney thinks he can get me off in 5.

With a running career that spans 12 years, 4 marathons, and over 10,000 miles, I suddenly find myself sidelined by the lamest of all sports injuries. It could have been the bad shoes, it could have been the uneven terrain, it could have been the years of an odd running technique described most acurately by my little brother as that of an "ambitious Velociraptor," (for the non-runners that means I run on my toes) but mid run a small section of my third upper metatarsal simply no longer wished to be connected to the lower portion.

Did you know evidence of stress fractures has been found in dinosaur bones? 

But it's not all bad. Like every woman, I love shoes, and I've gotten some brand new foot wear out of the deal. Gone are my stiletto heels and in their place is a stylish hard-soled, velcro-strapped foot brace. The foot brace not only helps to reduce the impact of weight bearing movement on my injury, it also gives me the seductive gait of a peg-legged pirate. Oh, and it prevents me from getting laid for the next 6-8 weeks.

Call it Love

“We are all a little weird and life’s a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love.” ~Dr. Seuss

Insomnia and Me: 5 Things I've learned before 5:00am - Part VI

1) Lewis Carroll is considered a Jack the Ripper suspect. 
2) Ron DiFrancesco was the last person to make it out of the South Tower of the World Trade Center before it collapsed on September 11, 2001. One of only four people to escape from above the eighty-first floor, DiFrancesco described feeling a presence that guided him through the fire and smoke consumed stairwells.
3) “The sixth sick sheik’s sixth sheep’s sick” is said to be one the toughest tongue twisters.
4) Soundsnap is a website that provides sound clips oraganized by category ranging from ice clinking in a glass to boat fog horn.
5) In 1903, a stone phallus weighing 2.2 tons was unearthed in rural Ohio. I would've guessed Idaho.