Trains Move: Obtuse & Ordinary Anecdotes

Run, Walk, Bike....Just Do Something

2011-10-09T21:08:00.000-07:00

4 jersey walls, 3 scrapes to my leg and hands and 10 miles later, I completed the Army 10 Miler.

It was a rough start as races go. I didn't get to the race as early as I had hoped and was rushing to get to the start on time, hence the jersey wall climbing. I noticed a girl looking at my hand as we waited for the gun at the starting line and realized my hand was bleeding. Pretty sure the skin I was missing was probably back on the last jersey wall. Finally we were moving and my thoughts went to other things then the stinging sensation on my finger and shin. At the beginning of every race I do the same thing. I look around and size up the competition. I know I'm not the fastest runner but there's still a competitive side in me. A few miles into a race I usually find someone that I'm running next to or behind and I check out their form, compare our paces and of course, see what type of sneakers they're wearing. Today I found myself in back of a girl who wore shirt that read, "Steel Horse". Miles later I lost her but still found myself looking for her, "Where's Iron Horse, or was it Iron Fist? Where did the Iron Curtain go?"

As you can guess by the name the race had a military theme. I saw many soldiers who served both past and present. One of the many noteworthy characteristics about the military is their sense of "we". They always have each other's backs and look out for one another. Along the way I was motivated by genuine acts of teamwork and support. Lots of people cheering on in the crowds flanking the street which comprised of proud spouses and children holding posters for their loved one that was running. But the most motivating people were the people I was running next to.

I wasn't able to stick to the training plan I created and ended up doing my longest run at only 8 miles. I would worry about how to get through the last two on race day. How did I do it? I willed myself. I started visualizing the word BELIEVE. And yes, it worked. There were times when I thought I felt a cramp coming on but I just stuck to my mantra of "believe". I also found myself changing the lyrics to the song, "I could really use a wish right now" to "I could really use a downhill now", that helped too. Around mile 4 I saw a man on the side of the road. He was sitting down and changing his prosthetic leg, both of them. He had a team of people surrounding him that we're helping him and cheering him on. I saw several other wounded warriors out on the 10 mile stretch. Some of them running with one prosthetic, some of them had two. All of them were running fast, a lot of them faster than me, but all of them were out there giving this race their all. None of them were complaining about a cramp, threatening to stop. My inspiration had been found.

It's amazing what the human mind can do. When you focus on something, will yourself to keep pushing and visualize successfully completing a goal it can really happen. And when that doesn't work, take a look around to see how other people are accomplishing their goals. Cramps, a rough start or a skinned shin are both minor and fleeting. I'm fortunate to be able to run races. I think it's sad that a lot of people who are inactive don't realize the natural gifts and talents their functioning bodies afford them. Whatever your activity is, be it walking, running or biking, it's important to do it with purpose and to push yourself. If you don't ever push your body once in a while you'll never really know what your capable of physically. Be thankful for your body and treat it well, you only get one.

I dedicate this blog to the men and women in our military who ran this race today, to those who are serving in a war and couldn't be here to run and to those we have lost in the war that were never given the opportunity.

My Life as a Seinfeld Episode

2011-08-28T18:55:00.000-07:00

One of the first jobs I had was working in retail. I've worked in all kinds of stores; shoe, jewelry and clothing. I remember one Christmas season when I was working at the clothing store and running late. I had a tendency of always running late, sometimes really late. My hair was as big as my attitude and I thought I had everything figured out like most of us in our early 20's. As I pulled into the mall parking lot like a bat out of hell, going way too fast and frantically looking for a spot, a guy backed out of a spot in front of me. I had to slam on my brakes because I was going so fast and narrowly avoided side swiping the car. Like any 20 something who was at fault but couldn't admit it, I did what came naturally, I got pissed at the guy who pulled out in front of me. I waved my fist in the air and flagged him with one dramatic middle finger while mouthing words I would never say in front of a priest. The guy, who was most likely equally startled at the sight of my black Ford Tempo racing towards him and the sight of me inside with all my big hair raging around me, looked frightened for a moment, but then he returned my fistful of anger with his own. I locked eyes with the guy and remembered his face. He pulled forward, I drove around him and ran inside to work. The situation wrapped up as quick as it had started, at least it did in my mind.

About a week later, I was back at work for a day shift on a Saturday. My boss was looking forward to her lunch break because she was meeting family and they were going to do some Christmas shopping. I was behind the counter checking out a customer. As I finished putting her item in the bag I looked up and saw someone standing off to the side of the cash wrap but didn't take a good look at them. As my customer left my boss walked up and said, "OK, I'm going to head to lunch now, my dad's here" and she looked in the direction behind me. I turned around and low and behold there's the man from the parking lot incident! My boss made the introduction, "Dad, I want you to meet my coworker, Marianne." My face must have turned a million shades of crimson. He looked me in the eye, those same eyes that I had looked into a week prior,(and flipped a massive bird to), and said, "Oh, we met last week in the parking lot, I'm Tanya's father."

I had some explaining and apologizing to do that afternoon when my boss returned from lunch.

The world is a small, small place. And just when you think it's big, it gets even smaller.

This past winter I started taking boot camp or as I like to call it, booty camp. I took the class with my friend twice a week on Mondays and Wednesdays. We realized right away that there was a clique of sorts in booty camp. This clique consisted of the die hard boot campers who had been taking the class for years, unlike my friend and I. The instructor called the members of the clique by their first names which meant he knew them well. He would ask them to do stuff like set up equipment, put weights away, etc. I was kind of happy the instructor didn't know my name after seeing the chores he would make them do.

The clique had a group of girls that consisted of a few really butchy looking girls and a few really bitchy looking girls. As for the latter, there was a duo of a brunette and a blonde. The blonde was just not nice. She always had this look on her face that kind of said, "all of you guys could be standing here on fire and I could have a bucket of water in my hands and I wouldn't help you." She was the kind of girl who would take two mats for herself when the instructor would specifically say, "We ran out of mats, is anyone using two?" And she would sit there with her big ass on two mats and never make any attempt to give one to someone who would end up using their towel instead. (I know this b/c I witnessed her first hand depositing two mats back on the rack at the end of class; trust me she wasn't picking up someone else's to be a good Samaritan either.)

During our boot camp class there would be times when we would have to pass a weight or a bar to the next person in class. Most people would do it with some type of exchange like, "thanks!" and "no problem!" or "you're welcome!". Not her. She would shove her big arm out and extend the weight towards you as if to say, "You better grab this bitch because I'm about to let go, and if it hits the floor, it sure ain't my fault!" The brunette was just her sidekick. I never actually heard her say anything mean or act rude towards anyone. She was guilty by association.

A few weeks ago I had a doctor appointment with my primary care physician. I never actually see the doctor, I just go to the physician's assistant. After getting the blood work portion done I was told to sit in the waiting room because Amanda was running behind schedule. As I cleaned out my Gmail inbox I heard a voice call my name. I stood up, grabbed my purse and started walking toward the door. As I made eye contact with the person holding the door and my chart, I had to do a double take. Was I seeing things because I hadn't eaten in 12 hours? Or was the girl that I was walking towards the brunette from the booty camp clique? I took a few more steps, squinted and realized it was her. One of the booty camp bitches was my PA? How did this happen? I've been going to my doctor for years and have never seen her in here before.

Apparently, I had though. She did my last appointment in 2010 turns out. Somehow the connection was never made at the gym. Maybe it was the lack of a white jacket and stethoscope?

I followed her back to the exam room and took a seat. She didn't recognize me, or did she? We exchanged the normal hellos and she started in with the routine questions. It was somewhere between asking if I was taking any new medications and if I had any surgeries in the past year where I just erupted and said, "You go to the WSC around the corner on the Connecticut, right?" She was like, "I thought you looked really familiar. You're in my boot camp class." We chatted about the class, the instructor and how we were looking to do something different over the summer to change things up. I quickly realized, this girl is not a bitch, in fact, she's actually really nice.

Then my mind started racing as I thought about what the rest of the exam entailed. She's going to see me, like almost naked. I wasn't sure how I felt about booty camp cliquester knowing what I look like without a top on. But then I rationalized, she can see me without a top on in the locker room just as easily, if not easier. She's a professional and this is a doctor's office so I just needed to relax and get through this general physical. I admit that laying there on the table as she did the EKG and I was completely exposed on the top didn't really make me comfortable. She told me some funny stories about our booty camp instructor so that helped pass the time. Before I knew it I was walking out the door and heading back to work. All the while thinking, this is definitely going in the blog.

The lesson I learned here in both of these stories is that the world is very small. You never know if that guy who delivers your FedEx packages at work may turn out to be your friend's new boyfriend. The person on the elevator could be a VP from corporate that you never met before and that person you flipped a bird to could be your boss's father. Everyone is someone. The other lesson learned it that it never pays to judge people by the company they keep. It's a lot harder to do than it sounds and clearly I was guilty of doing it. Sometimes our friends act like douche bags and we can't control their behavior. But that doesn't mean we should be labeled or blamed for their actions.

I'm passing this lesson on because I think it's worth repeating and publicizing and I hope it prevents someone from making the same mistake. The older we get the wiser we get.

"Life isn't about learning to climb the hill in front of us, it's about learning to navigate the entire mountain range" -Mw

Learning to Share the Facebook Way

2011-08-21T19:00:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Facebook (FB) we are able to connect to people on a virtual level anytime, anywhere. We can share photos, useless details about our day, a great sale at our favorite store or an impromptu happy hour at a local bar. All of this posting and status updating has lots of benefits, but it also has a downside. The fine line between "over sharing" and "connecting" has become so smudged that I sometimes find myself reading an update and thinking, "I really didn't need to know that." Everyone's "privacy settings" on their level of discretion are different. I am not a big status update person. The details of my existence are shared with the people that need to know and who want to know; this doesn't include the 400+ friends I have on FB. The great thing about any social networking site is that we are able to express ourselves how we feel comfortable. Some people are really comfortable expressing themselves and with that I have come up with my biggest pet peeves on FB status updates. Some of you are going to get angry when you read this, but this is my opinion and only my opinion. If you're offended then we can agree to disagree.

FB Status Pet Peeves

1) Photos of feet. I know what you're thinking, you were on vacation and wanted everyone to know you were on vacation but you were by yourself and didn't want to ask someone to take a photo of you, tried several times unsuccessfully to take your own picture and finally gave up and took a photo of your feet as proof. I have never met anyone whose feet were better looking than their face. I would rather see an off centered, close up of one eyeball than see a picture of your feet. Seriously, enough of the feet.

2) Photos of food. I'm not sure when this trend started or why, but what's up with photos of food? Photos of wine are good, especially if you're drinking alone. That way people know they should come find you so you're not drinking alone anymore. Trust me, no one wants to see photos of my food. For lunch you would see a spinach salad with tuna fish and carrots and craisins. You also don't want me to describe it in detail followed by the word, "yummy!" The word yummy is best used on people under the age of 9. Once you hit the double digits you gotta stop using that word. So unless you're getting personally served by Mike Isabella at Graffiato or you're on the Today show cooking with Giada, posting photos of your food is like white noise to me.

3) Photos of car thermometers. If you and I live in the same city, I'm fully aware of how hot outside it is on any given day. Thanks to national weather forecasts, I also know how hot it is in any other part of the country. You taking a photo of the temp your car is reading is not providing anyone with useful information. And if you're dumb enough to take it while driving you're just being ignorant. Do you really want to be that person who rear ended someone b/c you were taking a photo of the temperature on your dashboard?

4) Photos of cuts, scrapes, bruises or bug bites. If it's a sunburn and you have a big hand mark on your back, that's funny. But I don't need to see anything else. Sorry that you fell and scraped your knee. Grab a band-aid, put some neosporin on it and ask your BFF to kiss it, but don't photograph it.

5) The details of your sickness. If you're sick in the hospital I want to know. I'll be thinking of you and praying for you. If you're home with the common cold, the flu or your hungover, you can just leave it at that, "Sparky isn't feeling well today, drank too much at Circa last night." When you tell me more than that and use words like vomit, mucous or (my least favorite), diarrhea, you make me feel sick, too. Don't over share when you're sick, less is more.

6) Any photo taken while you're driving a car. See #3; enough said.

7) Posts telling me I need to re post your status if I love my dog, my sister or Jesus. My sisters and my family know I love them because I tell them. My mom and dad are not on FB so I have to tell them the "old fashioned" way and actually tell them. Jesus knows I love him because I go to mass. Last time I checked Jesus wasn't on FB either.

8) Political Rants and Bashing. Again, everyone has an opinion. If you want to post something that endorses your candidate go for it. The problem I have is when other people attack the person posting and start bashing that person's beliefs. Write whatever you want on your wall and as your status, but telling someone that they're "crazy" or an "idiot" for supporting someone that you don't agree with is overly aggressive. I think all of us have friends that do this and any use of the trigger words Democrat or Republican can send them into orbit about whatever subject is being discussed. These people need to join a meet up group or start a debate team; leave my FB wall out of it and take your soap box elsewhere.

9) Constantly Checking In. I get it, you're out at a bar and you want your posse to know where to find you. But the gym? Whole Foods? Getting your oil changed? I mean what's next, checking in for a bikini wax? That's great your 2000 miles are up and you need an oil change. If a family of raccoons was discovered under the hood by all means, take photos and share it. But if it's just your routine oil change keep that between you and the guy at Jiffy Lube.

Disclaimer: The context of this post is not directed to anyone in particular and should not be seen as a personal attack in any way. This is my two cents, and only that. Post whatever you want and use your FB page as you wish. But when I start over sharing and doing anything mentioned above, please let me know immediately.

The FB may be responsible for decreased productivity in the workplace, decreased attendance at high school reunions, it can also take credit for increasing friendships, socializing and spreading good news and humor. And, I think anything that increases the amount we laugh during the day is definitely a good thing.

"Life isn't about learning to climb the hill in front of us, it's about learning to navigate the entire mountain range" -Mw

No Survey, Profile or Witty Email Required

2011-08-10T20:04:00.000-07:00

I disagree with the statement that as we get older our "list of must haves" in a mate gets smaller because we are settling. I believe that the list gets tapered down because we realize what is important. The list becomes leaner because all of the fat has been cut out. I don't think you should have to fill out a lengthy question and answer survey in order to summarize what you're looking for in a partner. If you could ask for any three qualities in a person, what would they be?

These are mine...

1. Kill the Spiders.

Translation: Helping me face my fears.
Anyone who knows me is aware of my hatred of spiders. I rarely use the word "hate", in fact to me it's one of the worst words you can ever use. (This coming from someone who has a mouth of a truck driver and while at work the other day exclaimed, "Mother F*cker!" when my favorite pen died mid-sentence. When my co-worker asked, "Did you just say, Mother F*cker?" I said, "Yes, I did. I'm sorry if it offended you." He responded, "No, it didn't offend me but what happened?" I responded, "My favorite pen died. I'm left handed and it's hard to find pens that don't smudge. That was the only pen that I have here at work that didn't smudge, so it's a pretty big freaking deal!" He laughed and walked away. I'm pretty sure he thinks I have turrets.)

No, I don't think all spiders should die. Only the ones that ones that come into contact with me. The other day while walking out for my morning run I nearly walked smack dab into the middle of a web with a huge spider sitting right in the middle. I screamed and most likely woke up my neighbors. The spider ran away and with a couple of "kung fu" chops I was able to knock down the web and run for my life all the while splaying my hands back and forth as if I was putting out an invisible fire.

I realize I need someone to kill the spiders in my life for me. Maybe they can show me that they're not so scary after all. They can help me over come my fear and in turn make me a stronger person.

2. Put the fitted sheet on the bed.

Translation: Being a teammate with the everyday minutia that makes up life.
I dread changing sheets. Not so much the taking off part, but the putting them back on. I've tried all the tricks: do opposite corners, lift up the mattress corner, shove your knee into the mattress, etc. Because of this, putting the fitted sheet on the mattress has become the domestic chore I despise the most. I would rather clean my entire bathroom with a single paper towel and a tooth brush than have to struggle with a mattress corner. The tugging, pulling, breaking my nails and wrenching my back is a weekly wrestling match and I'm never the winner.

Some people say they wish they had someone that cleaned or cooked or did laundry. What all of that boils down to is having a teammate. Each person has the tasks they don't enjoy doing but when you have someone to help you out with the daily grind it makes life a lot easier.

3. Hold the sign for me at the finish line.

Translation: Support me no matter which race I'm running and what place I'm in.
Nothing compares to finishing a race and having someone there to cheer you on, either holding a sign or holding a water bottle or holding you upright. Everyone needs support and encouragement. Whether we are leading the pack and finishing in the top ten or bringing up the rear and finishing dead last. The support of someone who truly believes in you, even at times when you're doubting yourself, is the best feeling in the world.

The way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost.
-G.K. Chesterton

Someone Like You
-Van Morrison

I've been searching a long time
For someone exactly like you
I've been travelling all around the world
Waiting for you to come through.
Someone like you makes it
All worth while
Someone like you keeps
Me satisfied. Someone exactly
Like you.

I've been travellin' a hard road
Lookin' for someone exactly like you
I've been carryin' my heavy load
Waiting for the light to come
Shining through.
Someone like you makes it
All worth while
Someone like you keeps
Me satisfied. Someone exactly
Like you.

I've been doin' some soul searching
To find out where you're at
I've been up and down the highway
In all kinds of foreign lands
Someone like you... etc.

I've been all around the world
Marching to the beat of a different
Drum.
But just lately I have
Realized
The best is yet to come.

How Much is that Doggy in the......in Front of the Cat Aquarium?

2011-07-07T21:03:00.000-07:00

Sticky.
Hot.
Humid.
And we had only been standing outside for 15 minutes.

It was a beautiful sunny Sunday morning and my sister Gaby and I had just arrived at PetSmart. We were going to be spending the next few hours volunteering at the Lucky Dog Animal Rescue Adoption Event that was being held in the parking lot. I knew it was going to be a difficult undertaking. I remembered volunteering with my friend Laurin in Boston about 5 years ago. She helped out at an animal shelter by taking the dogs on walks. I joined her one afternoon. I had never been at a pound or rescue shelter before and didn't think twice about what I was walking into that day. I grew up with dogs and loved being around them. Any shape or size, it didn't matter. I never had a decision in the selection process of the pets we had as a child. My father either knew someone or knew of a place that was breeding and he would go out and bring home a puppy. They were always a surprise, even to my mother, and they were always a spoiled a member of the family.

So when I walked in with Laurin to the shelter I had no idea the emotional tornado that was about to hit me. To this day I cannot watch an ASPCA commercial with a Sarah McLachlan song playing in the background because it makes me think of this experience. It wasn't the smell of the shelter, it wasn't the sounds of the shelter, it was what I saw. Cages and cages of dogs flanking a single aisle that seemed to go on for infinity. I looked at each of them. Their little faces spoke to me and they all shared the same message:

"Please take me home. I promise I won't make you mad like my last owner and I only want to make you happy. I will greet you everyday at the door with a wagging tail. I'll be your biggest cheerleader when you're in need of support and the best pillow you could ask for when you need a good cry. Just please don't make me spend another night in this place. If you take me home I will love you unconditionally, forever."

I may not be "the dog whisperer" but I definitely felt something that day. My eyes filled up with tears and I had to go outside. I was able to walk the dogs and help out because Laurin agreed to bring the dogs out to me so I didn't have to go back inside. One of the things I gained that day was a sense of awareness about the animal population problem. Its magnitude was something I had never really observed first hand.

Fast forward to this past Sunday. I tried telling myself to not look too closely at the dogs. I was there to volunteer and to help these dogs get a home, I can do this. We checked in and had a quick orientation on how to handle the dogs. Our job was to hold on to the dog's leash and answer any questions a perspective owner may have about the dog's breed, age, background, etc. I noticed lots and lots of volunteers arriving. The woman from Lucky Dog informed us that there would be close to 60 dogs at the event that day. That was a lot more than I had anticipated.

We lined up and were assigned to a dog. While I waited I observed the vehicles pulling up to the curb and unloading the dogs. Each vehicle was as unique as its occupants. Sedans, mini-vans, SUV's, each one filled with three or four dogs. I saw mixes of what appeared to be Chihuahuas, Beagles, Labs, Collies, Pit Bulls, Mutts, they just kept coming and coming and that's when it happened. My eyes landed on a very senior Golden Retriever, he was really old. There was so much white hair around his sweet face and he kind of walked with a gimp.

And then I lost it.

Tears filled my eyes and I felt all the muscles in my face tense up as I tried to prevent what was bound to happen. The advantage to being out in the hot sun was that no one knew if I was crying or sweating behind my sunglasses. After a few pinches to the back of my arm to get it together I stopped crying. It was hard and I couldn't look at that golden again. My sister Donna has a Golden Retriever named Sarge. I think about how sweet of a dog he is and how much he loves his family and everyone he meets. I tell him how handsome he is every time I visit him and his tail sways back and forth as if to say, "Oh, thank you, thank you very much. Please keep petting me!" I can't imagine seeing Sarge at an adoption event. This old Golden Retriever shouldn't have been at PetSmart that afternoon. He should have been sitting on a front porch somewhere enjoying a belly rub at the foot of his owner. Watching him pulverized my heart into a million pieces.

Before long it was my turn and I was matched up with my partner for the afternoon, Arnold.

Arnold was between 6 - 8 years old but I imagine he was much older judging by his difficulty getting around that day. He was a beagle and the other most noteworthy characteristic was that he was super duper lazy. I made a vow to myself that I was going to try my hardest to get this dog out of "the system". He was a cute dog, big clear eyes, small to medium build and he had a warm personality. The repeat volunteers all greeted him by name when they saw me walk over with him. This wasn't his first "rodeo" apparently.

We stood out front of PetSmart with the other volunteers and their dogs under a small tent since it was hot. I knew that Arnold was warm and preferred the shade but we needed to be out front on the sidewalk if we were going to have any hope of someone seeing us and taking Arnold home. We alternated between the shade of the tent, the sidewalk and going in to the store. Arnold found a water bowl under the tent and laid down right next to it. Trying to get him to leave it was not an easy chore. I had to tug and tug on his leashes quickly realizing why he was handed to me with two instead of one. I felt bad making him sit on the sidewalk but it was my job to market this little guy and I wanted to do it right. I watched as families with small children and single adults came up to the area and looked around. The Lab was a big hit and so were the two sets of puppies. Children love puppies. Arnold wasn't a puppy though. The white fur on his face gave that away. Sadly, most people weren't interested in an older dog.

I can understand why the lure of a puppy is more appealing than an adult dog. You get to watch them grow up, train them and you have more time with them. But an adult dog has perks, too. They're housebroken, they've already gone through the destructive puppy stage and they're a lot more mellow. No one was looking at the older dogs though. I thought about my sister Marilyn and all of the Shelties she had adopted over the years. She had rescued dogs and wasn't an "ageist" about the selection process. The dogs she has adopted are some of the luckiest dogs in the world as she provides them with the best care possible and a very loving home. I know she would agree with me when I say that they have added a lot of love to her life.

In the midst of our "marketing campaign" Arnold started making this strange noise. Just as someone came up to look at the Lab. I thought positioning ourselves next to the lab would help so I hung out by her for a while. But when Arnold started making this "reverse sneeze" as I would later learn about, everyone looked the other way. "What is he doing? Is he OK? Does he do that a lot?" I thought to myself, Arnold, not the time to be reverse sneezing. We decided to go into the store.

As we turned the corner by the puppy training area of PetSmart I suddenly felt a tug on the leash. Arnold had decided to head a different direction and something had caught his attention. Along the wall of the store was the kitten and cat aquarium. They were stacked on floor, i.e. eye level with Arnold. He became instantly fixated on the first container holding two kittens. The kittens were confused and intrigued at the same time. They fearlessly approached the glass and batted at Arnold. Arnold didn't bark or growl, instead for the first time I heard a "swish swish swish" sound coming from his tail as it merrily conducted a symphony of bliss. He was happy and content; it made me smile to watch him. So content that he laid down on the floor and continued to stare at the felines for a good 20 minutes.

Not wanting to miss out on a potential adoption I decided it was best to go back outside. Only Arnold had another idea. He knew what was out there. It was hot, it was crowded and I think deep down he knew no one had been looking at him. Maybe that's why he stared his reverse sneezing in the first place? I finally coaxed him, (or rather pulled incessantly), away from the cats and we headed for the door. Almost on cue, like he knew where we were heading, Arnold stopped, lifted his leg and relieved himself on the corner of a display. A girl who was also volunteering walked by, "Wow, he really had to go!" Arnold gave me a look as if to say, "don't know why you need to take me outside now, we can stay in here if you want, how about we head back over to those kittens?"

I was worried. Things were not looking good. An older dog? Reverse sneezes? And now throw in bladder control issues?

I wish I could say this story ends with an older couple who were recent empty nesters looking to fill a void in their life, lay eyes on Arnold and it was a match made in heaven. But that didn't happen. Instead the adoption event ended and I brought Arnold back up for check out. The woman at the table had to look up who was taking Arnold and told me that he was going with Kathleen. While waiting for Kathleen I overheard the woman speaking to the handler behind me. Her dog required medication. "Hold on a second, Victoria! Doug needs his medicine!" I thought about what a meticulous process this must be for the shelter to keep track of every dog's medication and needs. That's a lot of work and lot of detail to remember. Thankfully, Arnold didn't require medication.

Kathleen approached and I walked Arnold to her car. As she packed up the other two dogs she was transporting Arnold took a spot under the car in the shade. The poor guy was so hot. You could tell he just wanted to sit down and stick his head out the window. I hope he was able to do that. I said good bye to him quickly and with minimal eye contact. Not because I mean, but because there was no other way.

My hope is that Arnold finds a home soon. That he inherits a wonderful family who will take care of him the rest of his days. I hope he can get into a routine that doesn't involve a weekly stop at a PetSmart in hopes to find a home, but rather a trip to PetSmart for a new toy or a chance to watch the kittens again. My wish is that he finds his soul mate who will be the perfect owner, who will take care of him, let him sit on the sofa and watch animal planet and take him on short walks, very short walks. Every dog has its day, I hope Arnold's comes soon.

To learn more about Lucky Dog Animal Rescue please go to:

http://www.luckydoganimalrescue.org/

You can also "Like" them on Facebook.

Not able to adopt? You can volunteer in many ways by fostering, providing transportation or being a dog handler at an adoption event. Organizations like this depend on volunteers who are willing to give up a few hours of their week to help out. You will not regret one minute of the time you volunteer, promise.

And last but not least, please spay or neuter your pets and urge others to do the same. The world has too many good animals already and not enough good homes.

Please share my blog with anyone who is a dog lover.

"People are motivated by many things....money, love, time, fame, success. A dog is only motivated by love."

Growin' Up in the 70's Ain't So Bad in Retrospect

2011-03-28T20:34:00.000-07:00

Every morning while I get ready for work I watch/listen to the Today Show. I've done this for years. Sometimes I hear part of a story and try to find a way to continue getting ready while standing in the living room without a mirror in front of me. The results have been disastrous at times: hair getting sucked up into my blow dryer, mascara all over my face and lipstick that clearly went outside the "lines". Today I was drawn into the story about the Abercrombie & Fitch padded bikini for young girls. For those of you who may have missed it:

http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/26184891/vp/42303863#42303863

This story made me think about a lot of things. If you're reading this and think it doesn't impact you b/c you don't have children of your own, you're wrong. Social problems are everyone's problem to deal with b/c we're all in this together. Does our society really condone a 7 year old wearing a padded bikini top? My first thought was picturing what a conversation would be like with my Mom if I were to ask for a padded bikini top. Seeing that I had to wait until the 6th grade to get my ears pierced, I'm pretty sure the answer would have been No. I've seen the pictures of my sister and I in our bathing suits. Sure a little padding at the top would have helped things out, but we were kids. Isn't that one phase of life where you can run around and not worry about being sexy? As you can see below, my top was very baggy. Padding would have solved that problem, but who was looking at me anyway?

My second thought was wondering what I would say to my 7 year old daughter if she asked for a padded bikini top. Grant it I don't have to worry about that, but if put in that situation how would I respond? Is it ok for a young girl to wear padding in her bikini? Though I don't think there would be a direct correlation between future promiscuity or prostitution or even losing their virginity at a younger age, I do think we are sending a big message in a little package.

Everyone knows why women pad their bras. We learn at young age that having large boobs is what is considered attractive and the ideal. I remember when I was going through puberty and wondering, "when is it gonna happen to me?" (Good thing I started focusing on something else or I would still be sitting in Cayuga, NY waiting.) It didn't happen for me and I didn't have a padded bikini top to help me through it either. I remember being teased in high school for being as "flat as a board". Sure it hurt my feelings because I wasn't like the other girls in my class who had boobs, but I realized something. I didn't want them because I wanted them , I wanted them because I thought it was going to give me something in return, be it acceptance, attention or a boyfriend. When it came down to it I was content with the shape I was given. I think that's a lesson all young girls need to realize. There is no right or wrong shape; we're all different and that is not only normal, but beautiful.

My answer to my daughter would definitely be No. But to make her feel better I would then remind her that if she ends up looking like me there will be plenty of opportunities in the future for padding. Lots and lots of opportunities.

My last thought was about how different it was growing up in the 70's. Life seemed a lot simpler. I didn't have a cell phone, a Facebook page or an email address. Everyone I needed to get in touch with was within walking or biking distance. I didn't text. I rode my bike. Wardrobe decisions were not decisions, but yes or no answers. Clothes were colorful and comfortable not attention getting. I watched shows like Three's Company, The Brady Bunch and on Fridays I watched the Dukes of Hazzard with my brother Rich. There was no Jersey Shore or Bravo or America's Next Top Model.

I read in a greeting card at a friend's wedding shower over the weekend that the average bride makes 175 decisions. How many does the average parent make over the lifetime of a child? I don't know how parents keep up with all of it. So many decisions, so many things to worry about...at what age should we let them have a Facebook page...a cell phone...a laptop...and now... when are they allowed to wear a padded bikini top?

Where does it end and most importantly, what's next? Parents of today I applaud you. You have the biggest responsibility in the world and there's no manual or crash course to teach you. I smile when thinking about the decisions my Mom had to make when dressing me for school: "What color animal barrettes are you going to put in my hair?" I'm happy to know she was spared having to contemplate to pad or not to pad.

Child of the 70's:

Child of today:

"Life isn't about learning to climb the hill in front of us, it's about learning to navigate the entire mountain range" -Mw

Fist Pumping Outside of Jersey: No Tan or Bump It Required

2011-03-20T18:36:00.000-07:00

A collection of rants and raves that finally traveled from paper to laptop....

I'm inspired to write by the experiences I have and the people I encounter. Sometimes I wish my brain was attached to a keyboard that would automatically write, edit, (ok I don't ever edit), and post the stories that run through my head on a daily basis. Sadly, most of them never make it to my blog but I'm trying to be better at posting. The collection of items below were recently discovered as I went through the pages of my notebook and saw some words I scribbled down last December when on the bus. (Note: I don't like taking the bus.) The ironic part is that yesterday I found myself on the bus again, remembered the notes I wrote down and simultaneously overheard additional material for another post. (Interesting how things like that work out, maybe I need to ride the bus more often?)

This is my version of a "thumbs up" or "thumbs down". But to make it a little more hip, I'm going to call it "Fist Pumps", (the stuff I give kudos to), and "Eye Rolls", (the stuff that literally makes me roll my eyes or squint in disbelief).

Fist Pump!
The Spin Pin. I own every type of hair accessory out there, seriously. (Have you seen the rat's nest of hair I have?) If I see a commercial where a girl uses a product that makes her hair look shiny, controlled or pulled back in an elegant manner, I'm all over it. I have a drawer in my bathroom dedicated to the gadgets I've tried: headbands of every material, clips of every size, combs, barrettes, elastics, ornamentation for buns, ponytails, braids, you name it. I still have a banana clip in the drawer somewhere. I saw a commercial for the Spin Pin. What's this? A corkscrew like device that will allow me to whip my hair back in an elegant twist? Well, it sure looks elegant so I need to have it! Off to CVS I went with bonus card in hand to obtain the newest solution to my quest for awesome hair. 20 minutes later I was back in my bathroom and trying it out. Guess what? That thing works! I love it! One twist and careful insertion into my poof of hair and I have instant updo! Bravo Spin Pin! You will stay near the front of the drawer from now on!

Eye Roll!
Holiday Commercials from Kay Jewelers and Folgers.
Every year like clockwork these novelties come out and I despise them both. Let's get something straight, the old Folgers commercial where the son comes home in time for Christmas is good, but this newest spin-off where the girl answers the door and says, "Sister!" is horrendous. I don't know anyone who is that "googley-eyed" over their brother. As for the Kay's commercials, I don't even know where to begin. Grown women getting scared over thunderstorms? Now if it was a spider I would understand, but a thunderstorm? And you're going to turn and hide in his arms?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ltA50HKyM14

This one is much better and had me laughing my head off:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SK5LXnjPf_Y&feature=related

Fist Pump!
Amazing teachers. In 2009 I wrote a blog that compared surviving another year to "everyone making it on the bus" when you were a child going on a school field trip. When taking the bus one day last December I had a moment of deja vu as I watched two adults and 8 kids get on the bus. It was a young woman and a young man, 4 little girls and 4 little boys. They all piled on in one big moving cloud of down jackets, snow boots and mittens. I could hear the adults giving instructions on how to navigate the bus, to get on quickly, to sit not stand and to be polite. All of the kids said hello to the bus driver which made him very happy. The adults directed the kids to their seats and then spread out on either end of the bunch. The children sat there with curious eyes and long stares out the windows. Not one of them yelled, moved or picked on the child next to them. They were the most well behaved kids I had ever seen on any form of public transportation. After a few stops, I leaned forward and asked the woman, "Are these all of your kids?" She laughed and said no that she was their pre-school teacher. I told her how impressed I was with the children's behavior and that I give her a lot of credit for being a teacher. She looked at me with a big smile and said, "Thank you very much, it means a lot to hear that from a total stranger."

I give a fist pump to all of the teachers out there. They have one of the hardest and most thankless jobs in the world. I've had a lot of wonderful teachers in my life. Each of them taught me something that helped me to develop into the person I am today.

Eye Roll!
Pre-Occupied Parents. Here's a thought: If you're walking over a bridge and you're in the middle and your child who just learned to walk is at the end of the bridge, and that bridge just happens to be on CT Ave, one of DC's busiest roads, and your child is standing precariously close to the guard rail as traffic goes whizzing by.....YOU MIGHT JUST BE WALKING TOO FAR BEHIND YOUR CHILD. Put down the cell phone Mommy, stop texting and focus on your child b/c they're about to get run over.
I have no patience for parents who are not focused on their kids when out in public. Who do you think is going to watch them for you? The lion statues at the end of the bridge?

Fist Pump!
Dancing with the Stars. If you didn't know, it's my all time favorite show. I LOVE it! Like any reality show it's addicting. They have a cast with plenty of eye candy and three saucy judges that keep you on the edge of your seat when they critique. It's the best part of Mondays and Tuesdays and it starts up again TOMORROW. Why do I like this show? For one simple reason, it makes me happy and I smile from ear to ear when I watch it. Dancing is a beautiful art form and I admire anyone who possesses this skill. Watching the professionals dance is incredible and watching the amateurs improve over the course of the season is amazing.

Eye Roll!
Naked Lady Parts in the Steam Room. I know it's a steam room and nudity is expected. But when there is just two people in the steam room and you decide to take your towel off, lay down and spread your legs, please don't face me and spread your legs. A few weeks ago while in the steam room I had this happen to me. A woman walks in, goes to the other end of the room, takes off her towel and lays down. I had my eyes closed and didn't know what she was doing. The only reason I opened my eyes was because she started chanting, "ohms". I looked up to see who the hell was chanting in the steam room. Instead of seeing a face I saw a vajayjay b/c she was laying with her knees up and her legs spread. I know some people are comfortable being naked in front of other people, I'm just not comfortable with the close-ups.

Fist Pump!
Girlfriends who inspire me. There are too many people to name here individually but they know who they are and how important they are to me. They are sisters, nieces, girlfriends, moms, business owners, volunteers, problem solvers, artists, writers, athletes, foodies, running buddies, babysitters, dog lovers, entrepreneurs and self-starters. Inspiration comes in all forms. When you feel inspired you feel like you can conquer the world. It's a feeling like no other. I'm constantly finding inspiration from the people that surround me, the ideas they share and the goals they accomplish. If you are the company you keep, then I'm pretty cool company. Thank you to all of my family and friends who motivate, support and inspire me. The impact you have on my life is valuable and the time I get to spend with you is cherished.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WM7-PYtXtJM

"Life isn't about climbing the hill in front of us, it's about learning to navigate the entire mountain range."
-Mw

Why was the girl in the relationship smiling?

2010-12-02T23:11:00.000-08:00

Because she knew she could finally close her eHarmony account.

Relationships are hard, but dating is even harder, especially in a city like DC. Sometimes I think the initials stand for Douche Central. Since I wasn’t meeting anyone at the places I frequent most often, (i.e. design industry events, the treadmill at WSC and my sofa), I decided that I needed to start up this on-line dating thing again. I tried it out a few years ago and seeing that I’m still single you know that it proved unsuccessful. I realized that I must be a masochist to voluntarily put myself through such psychological torment over and over again. Do you want to know the one positive about being on any type of dating site? You have great stories for your friends, especially the married ones. My single friend described it perfectly the other night when out for drinks with a mutual friend. She walked into the bar and said she had a dating story for us, my friend said, “Oh, I love dating stories!” My single friend replied, “of course you do, you’re married!”

The problem with on-line dating is that we expect to feel the instant click that you get from meeting someone in person just by glancing over his or her profile. I know that’s not what the idea is behind it, but in a society that promotes instant gratification, if we don’t see something we like, we just keep looking. Trust me, I’m guilty of this as much as the next guy or girl. If I see something whacky I hit, “Archive Match”, at least that’s the eHarmony, (eH), approach. Ok, I’m lying. When I see, (and believe me it’s often), something strange on eH, I usually sit there with my mouth open and say to myself, “Are you serious?” I wish there was a way I could go through my matches live via a webcast because I guarantee everyone watching it would have a new appreciation for the partner in their life.

One of my biggest complaints on eH is with the photos. Guys need some help when it comes to finding the right shots. To support this point I’ve compiled my top ten pet peeves for photos, and yes, these are all based on real experiences:

1. How old is this picture exactly?
If the photo is grainy or you don’t have any wrinkles in it or suddenly you have a full head of hair, it may be a touch too old for putting on your profile. If the year portion on the date stamp starts with a “19-something” I’m thinking that you need to take some self portraits or find a guy on the metro and ask them to take a photo of you.
2. So you like to scuba dive?
I’m not sure what happens to guys in their early 30’s but something clicks inside of them and they all want to be a scuba diver. Maybe it’s the female equivalent of wanting to be a mom? Suddenly there is an urge, a burning desire to put on a wetsuit, learn to breathe through your mouth and take lots and lot of underwater photos. The best photos are taken about 20 feet away in very murky water surrounded by lots of friends. (Read Sarcasm) I like to run, but there’s no way in hell I’m posting a picture of me sucking wind as I cross the finish line of a race, not to mention how I look in my running clothes. You Mr. Scuba Diver, are wet, wearing tight fitting clothing that makes you look like Ken Barbie below the waste, and, the best part: YOU’RE WEARING A SCUBA MASK!!!! Maybe we should just stick to the written description and say, “I enjoy scuba diving.” I trust you. The same applies for the tool that showed me a photo of his kayak, without him in it. It was just sitting there on the dock. For all I know this kayak was at some random state park and he took a picture of it. That’s like me taking a photo of my sneakers so you know I like to run.
3. Ok, so which row are you in?
Here’s a good rule of thumb, if you have to give me instructions on where to find you in the photo, (i.e. Third row back, 14th from left), there may be too many people in the shot. And yes, this applies to the all too famous, white water rafting group photo. Don’t even bother telling me where you’re sitting in that damn raft; with those bright orange helmets on you all look alike!
4. Wait a minute, I just paid $40 and now I need to “request your photo?”
Just put a freakin’ photo up already, you don’t have to have 20, but at least have two or three. Don’t make me have to do another request to get the completed profile, that’s just being a tease. That’s like you asking for my number and me giving you everything but the last 4 digits and saying, email me for them. And for the record, every guy that does this is a big freaking DAWG. You made me wait for this? It’s like waiting for Michael Myers to take his mask off; you know it’s not going to be pretty.
5. Great, so you’ve been to Egypt.
Everyone LOVES to travel. That’s wonderful, so do I. But, I’m not going to post random photos of The Pyramids or say the Tower of Pisa or the Arc de Triomphe that do not include me in the photo, and then put them on my profile. If I wanted to see what the Pantheon looked like, I could Google it, for free.
6. So, I see you’ve got a cat.
And apparently he loves to watch the sunset from the penthouse apartment you used to have when you lived in Chicago 5 years ago. Why are you wasting my time by posting the most boring photo EVER on eH? I’ll be honest, not a cat person, the fact that your cat, (I don’t even know if this cat made the move from Chicago or not?), is watching the sunset from your fancy apartment that overlooks Michigan Avenue is just plain ridiculous. Show me something I want to see, like a picture of you!
7. Costumes/Wigs/Winter Ski Jackets w/Goggles & Motorcycle Helmets?
Halloween comes once a year. Unless you dress up on a weekly basis there is no need for me to see what you look like with a wig on. I would never post the photos of me in my Mrs. Brady wig. Those are funny at least. The skiing pictures should really be taken after the last run of the day when your jacket, goggles, hat and facemask have been removed. As for the motorcycle shots, can I get one where you’re not in motion and creating a big huge blur with a helmet on top?
8. Is that really another thumbs up?
If you’re going to post three photos, two of them shouldn’t be of you giving the thumbs up with both hands. Do you really do that pose frequently? You shouldn’t.
9. Are you expecting me to wear the pants?
I get it that you’re trying to show me your softer side, but the photo of you smelling the tulip, close up, with your eyes closed, isn’t what I’m looking for at this stage in my life. I’m terrified of spiders so you need to be somewhat manly.
10. And the best for last…..Bathroom shots are not funny, period.
According to one of my matches, he was being “crazy”, I call it being disgusting. He sent me the front of his holiday card from last year. It was three photos of him and his bathroom routine: one in the tub, one shaving in the mirror, and, yes, you know what I’m going to say, one on the TOILET, boxers to the floor and all. I don’t want to see anyone going to the bathroom, let alone some random stranger that I have never met. More tulip photos please!

And that’s just with the photos. There is also the plethora of material that comes across in written communication and then who knows what will happen when you actually meet face to face. One of the dates I recently went on didn’t want to put his Express down until I was completed situated at the bar, coat off, drink ordered before he began the conversation. Another date was so engrossed with his phone and texting that I tried to make light of it and said…

“Hey, we have the same phone”
eH Douche while texting: “Oh, really? And what would that be?”

I just squinted and tilted my head until he put his “Droid” down and realized how much of an idiot he sounded like by asking me that question. This was the same guy that informed me he’d been living in DC for over 18 months and had never stepped foot into a museum. I asked if he had been to the monuments at least and he said he had seen the Washington Monument. I told him there were a “few others” down there, too. (How can you have lived in DC and never stepped foot into a museum? Museums are what we do best.) It was shortly after that response that I blurted out, “well it’s been nice chatting with you but I really have to get to abs class.” I wanted to add, “Oh, and by the way, if you’re 5 foot 10, then I’m 6 foot 2!” I’m wearing flats and just shy of 5 foot 7, if you’re 5 foot 10, then using “new math”, I should be looking UP to you, not DOWN! You false advertised your “product” pal. The bill of goods you're trying to deliver is not being accepted at this address; please return to sender.

As I said, dating is challenging and it takes a thick skin, plus lots of patience. I realize there are going to be some “boring questions” that we have to work through, (yes, someone told me I was asking boring questions), but that’s how we learn about each other and establish common ground. But even after you establish that common ground, sometimes there’s just nothing left that is intriguing. That’s not to say the person isn’t nice or good looking or smart, there just isn’t a “spark”. When I’m chatting with someone on a date, at some point during the conversation I ask myself one of two questions. If the date is going well, I ask myself, “I wonder what it would be like to kiss this guy?”

If the date is going poorly I ask myself, “I wonder if my friends are still going to be out after this wraps up?”

And that's my social research in a nutshell. I’m sure there will be more stories in the future. Until then I’ll keep looking for Mr. Right Now and you can keep laughing.

Romantic love is mental illness. But it's a pleasurable one. It's a drug. It distorts reality, and that's the point of it. It would be impossible to fall in love with someone that you really saw.
-Fran Lebowitz

I used to think those people who sat alone at Starbucks writing on their laptops were pretentious posers. Now I know: They are people who have recently moved in with someone.
-Carrie Bradshaw, Sex in the City

Whenever I want a really nice meal, I start dating again.
-Susan Healy

Never date a woman whose father calls her ‘Princess.’ Chances are she believes it.
-Anonymous

You see, this evening has been a series of bad choices combined with big expectations on my part and very poor manners paired with an enormous ego on your part. If I look at each element of disappointment individually none of them serve as deal breakers so to speak, but I’m forced to make a decision based on all evidence that has been presented which leads me to the conclusion that you and I should definitely…definitely not go on another date.
-M. Wilson

Like Fingerprints On Glass, We All Leave A Mark Behind

2010-11-07T18:54:00.000-08:00

Will you laugh with me for a season?
Stand by me for a reason?
Or walk with me for a lifetime?

People come in and out of our lives. Some people are just brief acquaintances, some people are stuck with us because they're family and some people are there for the whole ride no matter what happens to us. I like the above quote because it speaks to how relationships can be both transient and permanent, and every one is a blessing.

A week ago I got a phone call at work from my sister Gaby. I knew something was up as soon as I heard her say, "Hi Marianne". (My sister always calls me "Mar", kind of like how I always call her "Gab".) She quickly informed me that our 4-year-old niece Sophia had passed away. My eyes filled with tears and my chest became so tight that I thought I was going to pass out right there in my cube. Over my shoulder I could hear two co-workers discussing a set of drawings and revisions and on the other side of my workstation wall I could hear a project manager getting angry with someone on the phone. And there I was sitting in the middle of both trivial conversations getting news that a life had just ended.

The next few hours were filled with phone calls to family members. A plan was put together to get home and on Saturday I headed north to NY. Along the way I had lots of time to think. My thoughts kept going to Sophia and to my sister Bobbe. Sophia was Bobbe's second daughter and 8th child, her youngest. I knew how sad I felt and I was only Sophia's aunt, I couldn't imagine how my sister must have felt though. Having no children I haven't experienced that type of love. Everyone I know that has kids says the same thing, "you'll never love anything the way you love your children". I believe it without a doubt even though I can't feel it.

I'll never forget the look on my sister's face when I saw her for the first time. It was such a look of emptiness and sadness. I hugged her. I hugged her and told her how sorry I was. We sat and chatted. I let her do most of the talking and I did the one thing I knew I could do, I listened. I listened to her tell stories about Sophia, her routine with her, what she liked to do, where she liked to sit and how she spent her days.

You see my niece Sophia wasn't like most 4 year olds. In fact throughout her whole life and even after she passed into the next one, she remained a medical mystery. Sophia could not see, hear, walk or talk. She was never formally diagnosed with any known disease. She had been evaluated by numerous doctors and specialists and had undergone genetic testing but nothing was ever concluded as to why Sophia wouldn't grow.

It's hard not to question things after an experience like this. Often after something traumatic we find ourselves asking God, "why me?" Though I never heard my sister specifically say this, I'm sure she was asking questions and wanting answers. That's what any parent would do in that situation. I found myself wishing I had an answer for her and her husband. I wish I had the magic words to say that would make them feel better; but I didn't.

When I got back to DC I met up with my girlfriend Marie for drinks. I told her about Sophia. She patiently listened to me tell her story. She then told me a story about a family member and her own personal tragedy that she experienced. At the end she said something very profound to me. She explained that maybe Sophia had done what she needed to do on Earth and her work here was done, like that of an angel. God needed her back and it was time for her to move on and help someone else. That message resonated with me on many levels and made me think of the quote at the beginning.

My sister always referred to Sophia as an angel. Her middle name was Faith and I think that's why she came into all of our lives. I wasn't around her on a daily or even monthly basis but I'm sure my other nieces and nephews as well as my sister and brother-in-law probably gained so many things from living with her. Maybe now they're still discovering all of the gifts she brought them in return for all of the love of they gave to her.

When I think of Sophia I smile. I know she is in a better place and she isn't suffering. I think she is doing all of the things that she wasn't able to do here. I can see her running, laughing and skipping. I think she's happy and healthy. I think this because I have faith.

Though her time with us was short, Sophia's fingerprints left a mark on all of our hearts that will never fade. She was only here for a season but her spirit will stay with us for a lifetime.

Sending stars and smiles to Sophia from her aunt in DC.

Tiny Angels

Tiny Angels rest your wings
Sit with me for a while.
How I long to hold your hand,
And see your tender smile.
Tiny Angel, look at me,
I want this image clear....
That I will forget your precious face
Is my biggest fear.
Tiny Angel can you tell me,
Why you have gone away?
You weren't here for very long....
Why is it, you couldn't stay?
Tiny Angel shook his head,
"These things I do not know....
But I do know that you love me,
And that I love you so".

-Author Unknown

The Cord

We are connected,
My child and I, by
An invisible cord
Not seen by the eye.

It's not like the cord
That connects us 'til birth
This cord can't been seen
By any on Earth.

This cord does its work
Right from the start.
It binds us together
Attached to my heart.

I know that it's there
Though no one can see
The invisible cord
From my child to me.

The strength of this cord
Is hard to describe.
It can't be destroyed
It can't be denied.

It's stronger than any cord
Man could create
It withstands the test
Can hold any weight.

And though you are gone,
Though you're not here with me,
The cord is still there
But no one can see.

It pulls at my heart
I am bruised...I am sore,
But this cord is my lifeline
As never before.

I am thankful that God
Connects us this way
A mother and child
Death can't take it away!

-Author Unknown

"Death is not extinguishing the light; it is putting out the lamp because dawn has come."
--Rabindranath Tagore

Zero to Sixty in 60

2010-10-17T18:57:00.000-07:00

A day like today doesn't come around often. Sunshine and Seventy-Two degrees on a Sunday afternoon in October. This meant taking advantage of the day with an afternoon run. iPod on shuffle and laces tied I headed out on my usual route through Rock Creek. As I quieted my mind to focus on the week ahead I found myself bouncing from emotion to emotion with every few yards I stepped. I'm sure this is what happens to a lot of people when they walk, run or bike. You get distracted by the people you see or the scenery that you pass. Today was exceptionally distracting. For a run that was only 59 minutes, I felt that I had moments of happiness, anger and everything in between...

A moment of light: The idea to go out on a run and take in some fresh air and sunshine.

A moment of curiosity: I found myself in back of this girl who was going a similar pace as me but about 25 yards ahead. She turned right and I had no idea where she was heading, I was going straight. But then 5 minutes later, she's right back in front of me again. How she'd do that and will she show me her shortcut?

A moment of awe: Running towards the zoo I pass by the cutest King Charles Spaniel. I swear to you this dog was smiling ear to ear. It greeted me with such a happy face that I returned the smile and told the owner, "cute dog!"

A moment of ow!: I stepped on a huge rock that was laying on the path. That mother hurt!

A moment of beauty: The sun was shining, the wind was blowing, the orange and yellow leaves were falling and for a few sacred seconds I was all by myself. I celebrated the silence and turned my music off.

A moment of rage: Rude bikers drive me crazy! They are a dime a dozen in Rock Creek. Out of nowhere a bike riding dbag suddenly appeared. He heads straight towards me at a Tour de France speed as he passed another runner on the left. I had to move off the path or get a face full of dbag sweat and rubber. I was beyond pissed. Had he not been going so fast I would have tracked him down and made his face a potpourri of autumn leaves, dirt and asphalt. Clearly this guy was confusing the two big wheels in between his legs for a real set that should have been in his bike shorts. If there wasn't children around I would've yelled, "Why don't you pick up a set of balls the next time you're at the bike shop, douche!"

A moment of nostalgia: Music is powerful because in one second it can change your mind and your mood. Thankfully the next song that came on my iPod was The Cure's, "Just like Heaven" and I forgot about the close call with the dbag. Happy again.

A moment of vom: Someone dropped a dog pick up bag while on their walk. The funny part is that it was clearly run over by a bike, (I'm hoping the dbag one that ran me off the road). The gross part is the path of filth and stench it left behind. Luckily I dodged it in time.

A moment of deja vu: I realize parents have a challenge when teaching their children to ride a bike without training wheels for assistance. But something tells me that the uneven, narrow, rocky pathways in Rock Creek are not the most optimal places for instruction. Before I knew it there was a little boy heading straight towards me as he precariously tilted from side to side on his bike. I graciously moved over to give him the room he needed. Then started looking for the target that must have been placed on my running shirt.

A moment of vom part deux: Young couple in love holding hands. As I approach them from behind they stop short and kiss right in front of me. I know holding hands is cute, but his constant grabbing her ass was not.

A moment of escaping death: I realize chipmunks and squirrels are not the most intelligent of animals but their decision making skills are seriously impaired. Maybe it's the nuts they eat in the Creek? I see a chipmunk. The chipmunk sees me, I swear it saw me. It moves to the right. I keep running full speed ahead. The chipmunk decides he needs to get that one last acorn sitting in the middle of the path and darts out in front of me at the last second. I yelled, "Oh No!", as I felt the sole of my Mizuno skim his little chipmunk head. If he didn't suffer from cardiac arrest after seeing my shoe moving like a missile towards him then he certainly is suffering from a major headache right now.

A moment of digging down deep: At the end of every run I climb up a big hill on Tilden. My goal is to get up the hill without having to stop. Today was going to be tough I could tell.

A moment of inspiration: I think everyone needs a song they can listen to when they really need to push themselves physically. I have many songs that inspire me but today I played Michael Jackson's, "Man in the Mirror". I love that song! It kept me moving and thinking of other things besides the big hill I was climbing. I especially love the choir part. If you ever find yourself having to "climb a hill" this is the perfect song to play. I guarantee you will get to the top.

A moment of appreciation: As I got to the top of Tilden and Connecticut I took a minute to reflect on my accomplishment. I believe in celebrating the small successes in life as well as the big ones. It sounds relatively minor, especially considering the number of people who were running marathons this weekend. Still it felt good to get to the top and see that I completed my run in under 60 minutes. I appreciate the moments of rage as well as the moments of happiness that a run brings to my life. I think about how a year ago I probably wouldn't have been able to get up that hill due to my back surgery. Over a year has gone by and I'm slowly chipping away at getting back to the runner I used to be.

Until then, I'm going to celebrate the minor obstacles I conquer. I'm also going to count my blessings for being able to continue doing something that I truly enjoy. We have no idea where this path in life is going to take us but it's important to appreciate the cute dogs, the love birds, the falling leaves, a sunny day and a sweaty run while we can. I hope everyone who is reading this blog did just that today and has their own moments to remember and appreciate as well.

What Makes Someone Unforgettable?

2010-09-12T14:33:00.000-07:00

The background story:

Abs class. It all started with Abs Class. A 30-minute routine that I had taken to starting this past July. It became part of my schedule each week and with the exception of a few work trips to Boston, I never missed a class. I noticed that it not only strengthened my core but it was also assisting in the efforts behind Operation: Muffin Top Removal.

The first class was memorable. I was the only person who was a newbie. When the instructor walked in I thought, "well, this will definitely help me get my butt to class." He was cute; tall, dark and ethnic. I heard his name once and I remembered it. The class was hard and at the end of it he came up to me and said, "you've been to my class before, right?" I told him that it was my first class but I plan to come back. (I thought it would be pretty obvious that I was the new person as my arms were visibly shaking as I struggled to stay up for the last plank pose. I refuse to quit during any type of group class and it's not because I'm strong, it's because I'm stubborn as hell.) And so my relationship with abs class began.

I would occasionally see the instructor when I worked out on lunch. We would exchange hellos and that was it. Cute guys and lugging heavy things have the same effect on me. Both make me laugh uncontrollably. Hence why I never flirt and I never help friends move. The results have been disastrous and is why I'm single and have friend's with broken knick-knacks.

Flash forward story:

Thursday lunch workout. I had been to abs class on Tuesday night. I had a quick exchange with the instructor at the end of class. I was doing the final set of crunches and suddenly his face appeared hovering over mine. He asked, "Are you staying for kick boxing?" I told him no, I was hitting the treadmill next. He smiled, grabbed the weights that were next to my mat and put them away for me.

I walk in two days later to do a quick workout on lunch. He's at the front desk and says hi to me. Then he follows it with, "I haven't seen you at class in a while?"

Mw: Huh?
Abs Man: You haven't been to class lately.
Mw: I was there last week and just this past Tuesday night, too.
Abs Man: You were?
Mw: Yes, we chatted at the end of class. (Wanting to say: Don't you remember our conversation? You asked if I was staying for kick boxing, I said no, you put my weights away. You were wearing black shorts and a red t-shirt and I had on black shorts and a red tank top, we matched for Pete's sake!)
Abs Man: Huh, that's odd, I totally don't remember seeing you.
Mw: Well I was actually going to tell you after class that you need to make the class harder. I think you were too easy on us this past Tuesday.
Abs Man: Really?
Mw: Yes, I kid you not.
Abs Man: Well, I will definitely work on some new exercises.
Mw: Great! See ya then!

And with that I walked into the locker room. As I ran on the treadmill I was perplexed. I thought I was making some headway here with this guy but in reality I was just another face in the class. I can't blame him though. There's been plenty of people whose names I have forgotten. Conversations and encounters can be very fleeting to one person but seem very personal to another.

There is a reason why we remember some people's names and forget another's as soon as they walk away. What is it about someone that makes them memorable? Is it their appearance? Their eyes, smile, voice? Why do we quickly remember one person but forget their friend next to them? I don't think it can be attributed to a good memory and I'm sure there are different reasons for both men and women. Does it all come down to looks? A great conversation or a good laugh? I'm definitely guilty of forgetting both guys and girls names. There have also been numerous times that I've had to remind people of my name after a third or fourth introduction. Sometimes it doesn't bother me, sometimes, like in the case of the Abs Man, it does.

There are some people who automatically stand out in a crowd, no matter what they do and there are others who, no matter what they do, will always blend in with the crowd. There's a role for everyone, you just need to decide which part you want to play.

The Beach Hasn't Evolved....and That's Why We Go There

2010-08-01T19:00:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I had a very fortunate opportunity. No, I did not go to Chelsea Clinton's wedding. I did something better, I went to the beach. When you live in DC going to the beach is a daunting task. It's not a quick trip down the road or an hour drive away, it's a 3 hour trip...if you're lucky. This time around I was not so lucky with the travel time and averaged about a 5 hour trip there and a 4.50 hour trip on the way back.

But it's worth it.

After a crazy week of working until 11 o'clock four nights in a row it was time to break the routine and escape for a weekend. With sunny skies overhead, a full tank of gas and our beach chairs in the trunk, my girlfriend and I headed to Dewey Beach, DE.

Saturday afternoon was our day in the sun. We set up shop around 12 pm and the plan was to not move until the lifeguards left for the day, (around 5 pm). In between my magazine reading and napping I did one of my most favorite activities, people watching. My eyes danced between groups of families, teenagers, couples and those who were just hanging solo. The beach really is a slice of Americana. If someone from another country visited any beach in the US they would experience all ends of the spectrum when it comes to understanding American people. This is why I love the beach. You will always find the following people on a beach:

1. The perfect family: Mom, Dad, little boy and little girl. All of them dressed very well.
2. The teenage mob: Teens too young to drive but old enough to start trouble and be annoying.
3. The insane family, (usually seated within close proximity to me): Loud, lots of equipment and require a 20' radius to hold all of their stuff. Lots of kids running around, usually a set of grandparents in tow that can't really help watch the kids and just sit in their beach chairs, followed by a very loud mom who usually has a questionable accent which leads to a game of, "what city do you think they're from?"
4. The young couple in love: Gag!
5. The old couple in love: Cute!
6. The odd couple: Woman who refuses to take her shirt and shorts off when going in the water paired with a man who wears way too small swimming trunks and is in need of a back wax. The guy on the beach yesterday looked like he was wearing a vest...backwards.
7. The group of party girls: young, quiet b/c they're hungover, usually have a towel over their heads and a cooler with lots of water.
8. The two guys who are watching the group of party girls above.
9. The super loud, foul mouthed, cigarette smoking, crotch grabbing, white trash group of 20-somethings that of course have to sit right next to me.
10. The two single girls who are taking all of this in: that would be me.

I find the behavior and conversations from these groups of people truly fascinating. In one afternoon I learned so much from all of them just by listening and watching. The white trash group of 20-somethings next to me all live at home. Apparently they do drugs in one of the kids bedrooms when the parents are at home, too. The kid is convinced that his parents have no clue he's doing drugs in his bedroom with his girlfriend, but the girlfriend thinks otherwise. She thinks they are aware of the situation but just pretend to be in the dark.

The group of party girls got a sweet deal on the beach chairs they rented. They ended up getting them all for free b/c one of the girls worked at the chair and umbrella stand a few summers ago. She did it along with running a babysitting enterprise. Yes, she used the phrase enterprise. She would watch like 8 kids at a time and when she was in a pinch she sometime had to ask her friend Erica who didn't like kids and wasn't good at babysitting. But she made enough money in one summer to pay for her tuition for a semester.

The perfect family was just that, perfect. The kids were cute, they didn't talk back and everyone had fun. Maybe it was the margaritas that mom made that kept mom and dad calm and collected the whole day? I know that she made awesome margaritas because she offered me one. I guess I looked thirty? Dad made a kick ass walrus in the sand, too. They looked like they could be on the cover of J.Crew. I liked sitting next to them.

So with all of this craziness that occurs at the beach, why are we drawn to it every summer?

I have the answer to this question: Because it never changes and it never will.

The beach will always be just that, the beach. It will never evolve or become more technologically advanced or sophisticated. You go to the beach once and you've got it figured out. If you hadn't been to the beach in the past 10 years and then decided to go one day you would know exactly what to pack, what to wear and what to expect. That's why we like it, we know what to expect.

With the exception of colors and textiles, very few things have changed for the beach. The beach chair hasn't really changed, nor has the cooler or the beach towel. In fact some of the toys that the J.Crew family was playing with were just like the toys I played with at the beach. A shovel, a pail and one of those starfish molds. Seriously.

I think that's why I like the beach so much. It reminds me of childhood and simpler times. The beach will always be simple. It doesn't matter what your life is like during the week, at some point all of us desire, (and require), some simplicity. A place with no cell phones, laptops or Outlook reminders and the only tweeting you hear is the sound of the lifeguard's whistle telling you it's time to get out of the water.

Summer goes by fast. Enjoy every second of sunshine that falls on your face and return it with a smile.

Keep Your Mitts off my Condiments!

2010-04-20T18:04:00.000-07:00

I knew I wasn't going crazy...nor was I consuming an alarming amount of salad dressing. I just couldn't understand why I was going through a bottle of salad dressing faster at work then I was at my own apartment. I knew I was on the cusp of discovering the culprit. Day after day I would walk into the pantry at work and smell my Italian dressing. Only, I didn't use it that day at lunch....so who was using it?

I know I shouldn't get wrapped up in a $3 bottle of dressing, but when you think about it, what this person was doing, or rather, what my own co-worker was doing, was downright rude. We work together for cryin' out loud! Why would you help yourself to your co-workers belongings just because they are stored in a shared refrigerator? And to continuously do it over and over again is just beyond unacceptable to me.

I quietly came around the corner today and low and behold I caught the guy! (Yes, it was a guy, too.) I startled him, he made a weird face, and then suddenly tossed something into the fridge and bolted. It wasn't until a short while later that I realized why he looked so guilty....he was the Salad Dressing Hoarder!

So, to you, Dressing Hoarder, be fair warned!
I've got my eye on you. I will be watching every move you make when you enter that pantry from this point forward. You who can't even say hello to me in the morning when I say, "Good Morning!", or even bother to exchange a smile when I pass you in the hall. I have done nothing to you but only treated you with the common respect that I would want from my co-workers.

You're cheap to not buy your own.

You're lazy for not walking to the corner of the next block and buying one at CVS.

I don't want any excuses either that you're not from around here b/c look buddy, I live in DC, for all I'm concerned, I'm not from around Clarendon, either. I still figured out the joint and where to get my Starbucks, my Zone Bars and yes, my salad dressing. And claiming ignorance will get you no where fast, too. As instructed on our fridge, I used one of the pre-printed labels and filled it out with my last name and the date. Do not even tell me you don't know who, WILSON, is! I haven't taken my, "Welcome Aboard Marianne Wilson", sign from last October so come up with another excuse.

Until then, keep your chubby, greasy, architect-paws off my dressin' or else I'll have no other choice but to resort to some creative aggression in a culinary outlet.

Just sayin'...

Excuse Me, Is That Your Bag....of Weed?

2010-04-06T20:08:00.000-07:00

The key to keeping a dirty little secret? Keeping it a secret.

The day started off like every other, I woke up to a symphony of sounds from my neighbors upstairs and an aroma that makes me think someone is cooking something with dirty hands. An hour later I exit the lair, (on the lookout for spiders while climbing my steps to the outside), and begin my commute.

I get on the metro at Cleveland Park and miraculously find a seat amongst the sea of tourists who are all riled up to go photograph the hell out of the cherry blossoms. The train gets crowded at the next stop and a guy in front of me had to step in closer to make room. I immediately start scoping him out, not because he was attractive, but because he was an absolute mess. The picture perfect definition of disheveled. Hair a mess, shirt wrinkled and button crooked, belt askew, bag open and over one shoulder with shoes untied.

Let's go back to the bag. The bag was open which I always find fascinating because you're either asking someone to pick pocket you or in my case, blog about you. The contents of this bag I found mesmerizing. This is what I saw: 2 mechanical pencils, one black pen, a pack of gum, lots of gum wrappers, a lighter, what looked to be a plane ticket, loose business cards, a black notebook, an iPod, some dollar bills and the icing on the cake which prompted an immediate text to my sister, A BAG OF WEED.

You want to know why people get busted for weed? Because they get stoned then go out in public with their bag of weed hanging out for everyone to see on the metro. Now some of you are probably saying that I was being nosey for looking so closely at the contents and I disagree. My attention to detail was analytical research for the purposes of writing this blog with the hopes of entertaining those who read it. If this is not entertaining then consider it a "Lessons Learned" so to speak. When I saw that he was also carrying a Starbucks I began to stress. Just how many hits off the bong had this guy taken before getting on the train? The quantity could cross the threshold between whether or not I would be accessorizing my shirt with a Venti Latte (Non Fat) or not. (Yes, I actually looked at the code on the side of cup to see what he was drinking.) Luckily he got off at Farragut North without a spill.

Go through my work day: email, email, email, CAD, CAD, CAD, copy paste, copy paste, copy paste.

Leave gym and begin commute home. I arrive at Metro Center and see I have 4 minutes to kill before my train. I go to the end of the platform and pull out the blackberry to begin my texting commute. The guy on my right is in a full blown conversation on the phone about what type of meat he is going to have when he gets home. The details of his barbeque/honey mustard/horseradish experiment sounded like a hot mess to me. But before I could be further grossed out by his grill talk, I overhear something even more disturbing from the couple on my left.

I'll try describing the voice to you first. Picture a girl talking to a cute little fluffy dog. Their voice will get all high-pitched and sing-songy. Now if you're talking to a dog, that's OK. But when you're speaking to a person, you're a grown man and you're saying:

I'M GONNA HIT YOUR BUTT. OH, I'M GONNA HIT YOUR BUTT! OH, I JUST HIT IT!

It's not OK.

In fact it's disturbing. My head did a Linda Blair and spun so fast to the left that I heard something crack. I just scrunched my eyebrows together, opened my mouth as if to say something, (but didn't know what to say), and quickly shook my head as if trying to shake the visual from my brain like an Etchasketch.

And he fully went through with his promise, too. There he stood, spanking his girlfriend's ass right in front of me and Grill Master Bob to my right.

I'm still not sure why he thought this was a logical way to pass the time on the platform. I started staring at the red lights hoping they would blink and take me out of this "tunnel of love". When the train arrived I waited to see which car they got in and went the other direction.

Your dirty little secrets and your dirty talk is all good and fun. I have nothing against either but just not in public. I think it's more about being so careless when you're out in full view of the world with actions/habits that are extremely private. You never know who you could run into....your boss....your Mother....or even worse, a girl who writes about crazy people she sees on the metro. ;)

Remember, trains move!

The metro chimes a little PSA that says, "Excuse me is that your bag?" And it reminds people to take their stuff and pick up after themselves before exiting the train. They may need to alter that to...."Excuse me, is that your bag of weed on the floor?"

Do you have a dirty little secret? Good, keep it to yourself and it will remain that way forever.

A Life Without Passion

2010-03-12T18:30:00.000-08:00

"Enthusiasm is one of the most powerful engines of success. When you do a thing, do it with all your might. Put your whole soul into it. Stamp it with your own personality. Be active, be energetic and faithful, and you will accomplish your object. Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm."
— Ralph Waldo Emerson

Has anyone ever asked you what your passion was? And if so, did you have an answer, a real answer?

I think all of us have a "passion" for something but sadly I don't think everyone discovers what their passion is in life. It's easy to see how that can happen, too. Life is busy. Work, Family, Gym, Friends, Social Commitments, Social Activities, Errands, Facebook...the list goes on and on. We have so many things competing for our time and energy.

I like to think of our energy supply as an organic mass. This mass has a known quantity. Which means someday our energy will run out when we leave the earth. All of us will die one day and with that our mass of energy will have run out. If someone gave you a calendar for all of the days you have left in this world, say a calendar that had the next 40 years lined out for you, would you change the course of your activity on a daily basis? Would you fret over the small stuff, like a clean house? Essentially that is what our life is only no one has given us the calendar. When you think of it that way, why would you ever waste one month, one week or one year not doing what truly makes us happy? This isn't to say we can't be sad or angry or jealous, those emotions are essential to life, too. But it is to say, why do we waste so much time on the fluff?

When someone gives a eulogy at a funeral they are usually one of the people closest to the deceased. That person has the honor and the duty of being the last individual to ever speak on this person's behalf. Have you ever thought about who would give your own eulogy? Or one step further, what would that person say about you? We take time to fill out on-line dating applications that make us answer questions like, what three words would your friends use to describe you? But have we ever sat back and looked at their answers in order to understand how we are perceived from the outside? We hope that they use good words. We hope that the person giving our eulogy says nice, honest and truthful things. (I can't say I've ever been to a funeral where they didn't say nice things.) You hope that those closest to you, who really know you, know what you're passionate about.

So why do we waste so much time on the fluff if we know our calendar has a limited number of days? Why do we get worked up over details that will have no consequence in the future or on someone's view of us? No one started a eulogy with, "Wanda was a really nice person. She had a really clean house, drove a really nice car and her bathroom had a huge marble tub. And her china, well it was just beautiful and her silver was always polished perfectly. Oh, and in the summer we all go out on her boat, she has a great party boat!"

Why don't you hear these things in a eulogy? Because they don't matter; they're fluff. None of the stuff we surround ourself with can go with us nor does it define us. And if you're friends ever use those phrases to describe you, then you should really evaluate the relationship because they don't know you, just your stuff. What does matter is how you treat people and how you treat yourself. People may forget your words but they never forget your actions. Did you help your friends out when they needed it? Did you support family who were going through tough times? Did you take care of your family? Did you give yourself solely for the benefit of another without any alterior motive? Did you take care of yourself? Were you a happy person?

Did you find your passion?

Life gets swept up by the constant "to do" list. Finding your passion should never be on that list.

I hope that if there is one trait people will remember me by it is that I'm genuine. Sincerity is one of the most important qualities in a person. Always knowing what is real in life, what is important and what really matters, can never be underestimated.

Work Hard/Play Harder/Laugh the Hardest and live with Passion!

If you have ever felt such tremendous enthusiasm and desire for something that you would gladly spend all your waking hours working on it, that you would happily do without pay, then you have found your passion.
-- Sharon Cook & Graciela Sholander

Deal Breakers: Help or Hindrance?

2010-03-01T17:05:00.000-08:00

What's a deal breaker in a relationship? I asked this question of several people recently and got a variety of answers. If you've watched the show Seinfeld you know Jerry had a lot of deal breakers. There was the woman with the big hands, the woman who wore the same dress all the time, the soft talker and the girl who's toothbrush he dropped in the toilet. All of these seem pretty trivial but they are not too far from dating reality.

The challenge with deal breakers is separating the small stuff from the big stuff....like:

Biting Nails

Chewing with your mouth Open

Excessively Licking Your Lips

There are things that strike a chord in us and we sometimes think we could never date this person, ever. Like they say...they have:

Murdered someone

Sold drugs to children

Starred in a pornographic film

Do deal breakers really exist or are they just an excuse for not being attracted to someone? When we analyze details about people we're essentially judging them. We're judging that their behavior, actions or physical appearance are not what we consider acceptable for a partner. (Please note, I'm just as guilty as anyone of doing this and I'm trying to understand my own deal breakers.) When we look at another's table manners or bad shoes or bad teeth, are we really feeling detracted from that person or their bad shoes? Where do we draw the line from what is something we can't get passed to something that we can get around? Or are we just making an excuse because we're really not attracted to them deep down regardless of the stone washed jeans?

Does our list of deal breakers get longer or shorter as we go through life? Do we grow more accepting of things as we age and learn to focus on the bigger picture or does the opposite happen? We grow less and less tolerant with each passing year. We get to a point in our life where we decide we want to be single because living with another person is too difficult and requires too much compromise?

In my opinion I think the deal breaker list has a direct correlation to whether or not we think life is best enjoyed with the company of others, (as a couple), or by our self. Some people are completely happy being single so therefore they are less likely to compromise on things. The attitude of, "Why am I tolerating all of this b.s., I was perfectly happy before I was in this relationship." Or do we think, "I really don't like the fact that he plays Dungeons and Dragons at this age, but I'm happy when he's around so I'll accept it."

What about the deal breakers we just can't swallow no matter how hard we try? Like bad breath or snoring. How do you fix something that can't be fixed but drives you crazy. Do you focus on the positive things or do we take these as signs that we're just not a match?

I think when we are attracted to someone, really attracted to them, we possess the ability to look past small things because the feeling of being a couple is greater than any minor pet peeve. Maybe the deal breakers are just a way that our psyche tells us this isn't in the cards because if it was you wouldn't be focused on the fact that he is wearing a Van Halen T-shirt. Instead you would focus on the fact that under that Van Halen t-shirt is a six pack you can't keep your hands off of. You wouldn't focus on the fact that his hands are rough and he has raggedy nails, but the fact that he likes to hold your hand. When you reach the point of loving someone, holes in boxers, nose hair, leaving the seat up, all of that stuff seems to fade away. We have the ability and desire to push the crazy details to the background and focus on what's important and standing in front of us center stage with a big, huge spotlight on it.

They say love is blind. And I believe it.
But I'm pretty sure attraction is deaf and mute.

"Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two."
-St. Augustine

Work Hard/Play Harder/Laugh the Hardest and Love With Your Eyes Closed!
Mw

Mw-isms: Quotes to Live By

2010-02-09T18:40:00.000-08:00

Some days I hear the most random of comments and quotes that I wish I had a videotape to capture not only the way it was said but who said it.

Here are a few that I've collected and have been waiting to share. You may recognize some of them:

"Just because I swear doesn't mean I'm not sophisticated"

"Bitches Get Shit Done!"

"Be Stupid On Your Own Time"

"I literally feel like I could vom all over the place" -drunk metro rider

"Two people drinking constitutes a party, one person drinking
just constitutes an alcoholic"

"Say 'Ma'am' One More Time" -Annoyed women waiting on line at Giant

"Your face makes me want to get violent"

"The first mistake most guys make when trying to pick a women up at a bar is to assume she is less intelligent then he is" -Mw

Patient: "Wow, Dr. Smith is so cute, do you know if he is single?"
Receptionist: "No, I'm quite certain he is married and has three kids."
Patient: "Are you sure? I didn't see him wearing a wedding band?"
Receptionist: "Oh, I'm quite positive, you see I'm his wife!"
(Conversation overheard at my doctor's office; and yes my Doctor was that hot.)

"I realize why the shot is called a Red Headed Slut and not a Red Headed Girlfriend. A girlfriend would never leave you feeling so bad the next morning." -Mw

"Ooooh, they're turning the lights down, now I won't look so bad"

"Nothing good ever happens after midnight"

"Is it ok for a guy to wear UGZ and tuck his pants into them?"
"No, never!"
"But what if it's snowing out really bad?"
"Still, not a good look, trust me on this one."

Girlfriend (eyeing other girl on metro): "Why can't jeans look that good on me?"
Boyfriend: "Because you don't exercise and sit on the couch eating ice cream most nights."
(Que elbow to the stomach by girlfriend)

"The only girl who successfully wore white tights was chasing a rabbit and running late to a tea party." -Mw

********************************************
The best thing to come out of the second Harold & Kumar movie...

The Square Root of 3

I’m sure that I will always be
A lonely number like root three

The three is all that’s good and right,
Why must my three keep out of sight
Beneath the vicious square root sign,
I wish instead I were a nine

For nine could thwart this evil trick,
with just some quick arithmetic

I know I’ll never see the sun, as 1.7321
Such is my reality, a sad irrationality

When hark! What is this I see,
Another square root of a three

As quietly co-waltzing by,
Together now we multiply
To form a number we prefer,
Rejoicing as an integer

We break free from our mortal bonds
With the wave of magic wands

Our square root signs become unglued
Your love for me has been renewed

By David Feinberg
*************************************

My Blog is One Year Old!
Thanks for Reading,
Mw

Seasonal Short Stories & Shout Outs

2009-12-13T15:19:00.000-08:00

It's almost the end of another year and a tradition that I would like to start is writing a "Christmas Letter", but I've never done it. Now that I have a blog though I can easily dedicate this entry to some seasonal "shout outs" and of course, rants. The end of the year is a good time to do a check. You know the check that your teacher would do after going on a field trip in school? She would rattle off every one's name and make sure they were accounted for and on the bus. Now that I'm a grown-up, (per se), I like to do the same thing with my family and friends, did we all make it this year? Yes, we did. And for that alone I can say I'm fortunate because I know a lot of people probably have a different answer. If you're reading this blog say to yourself, "I survived another year, even with all of the trials and tribulations that may have come along with it, I survived."

In the world of wine a melange is a blend of incongruous elements. The following shorts are a blend of different experiences over the course of the year. Some are comical, some are sarcastic but all of them sincere.

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One for the Metro:
Yesterday afternoon on a crowded train full of Saturday tourists, I spied a woman in her mid-twenties reading a large book with a large purse taking over the seat next to her. At the next stop two women get on and since there was no where to sit they stood. I would guess both women were in their late 60's and they grabbed a pole right in front of said woman with large book and large purse. She looked up, saw them, and put her head back down to continue reading. The women looked at her, saw the space she was reserving for her purse and just continued to hang on and smile. The next stop girl in twenties gets off the train. I couldn't help but notice the book she was reading because it was so large. It had gold leafing on the pages, a beautiful ribbon bookmark and colorful hard cover. Do you know what the rude, mid-twenties something, girl with the large purse taking it's own seat on a crowded Metro was reading? THE BIBLE.

At a bar in Alexandria...
I was out with some girlfriends one night and we needed a place to stash our coats. That's the one item no one wants to juggle while out at a bar, your big, heavy, winter coat. The bar was crowded but we spotted a shelf in the corner. One by one we went over and carefully piled our coats one on top of another. I went last and as I turned around a guy came over and started sifting through the pile of coats. He looked at me and said in a very snotty tone, "I just wanted to make sure you didn't take my coat!" I said, "Why would I take your coat?" He replied, "Well you never know; I wanted to make sure you didn't walk off with it or throw it on the floor!" He was a 20-something-wanna-be-frat-boy and that last line really boiled my blood. First of all, I have a lady's coat, why would I want a "boy's" coat. Unless, I walked in with a guy who wasn't wearing a coat and was shivering, I'm pretty sure you don't have to worry about me taking your coat. I walked passed him and said, "Look jack ass, I got no interest in you or your leather bomber jacket circa 1985!" I noticed that the tag was sticking out on his sweater and it said in big letters, 100% Cashmere. That may be what's on the inside, but on the outside he was a 40% cotton/poly blend, 60% douche bag.

Shout Outs...

I think of life as a constant juggling act. Sometimes we juggle three, four or five balls at a time. There is always one that is in each of our hands and there is one we have our eyes on, and the other is out of control. I think that's how life is sometimes, there will be parts that we can grasp and parts that we just can't seem to get a good handle on. I myself volleyed between having the employment ball and the physical ball a little erratic at times this year. But at the same time, I was fortunate to have the family and friend's ball to support me in either hand...

Thank you to my sister Gaby for taking excellent care of me for the two weeks I spent recovering after my back surgery. I would have never made it without you and your every loyal assistant, Emmi. I was able to lay by the pool all day and have someone cook for me each night. It was like I was one of those women who go to a spa so they can recover from plastic surgery!

To my sister Marilyn for always reading my blog, providing feedback and showing support of my dream of becoming a writer. Your comments are always appreciated!

To the friends who I was able to reconnect with this year thanks to FB. And to the people who defriended me after friending me on FB, that's probably for the best and I'm sorry for your loss.

To the rude, ignorant and crazy: Thank you. You are what inspires me to be a nicer person, better sister, friend, aunt and co-worker. I model your behavior by doing the exact opposite of how you've conducted yourself. You provide me with my blog rants and give me the most valuable lessons learned. The worst experiences really do make the best stories.

To all of the friends that I have spotted from going out the past 11 nights in a row: thank you for spending some time celebrating the holidays with me. I enjoyed every minute, every story, every shot, every photo, every piece of cheese, every glass of wine and of course, every laugh! My friends are fun and provide me with many things to smile about. The sounds of your laughter are forever a part of my holiday memories.

Here's to all of my family and friends for making it back on the bus!

Only the Best of Wishes,
Mw

The Vacuum Has Balls, and So Does She!

2009-11-24T16:12:00.000-08:00

The source of my story: The Metro
The setting: Metro Center,(aka the armpit of the DC metro system), rush hour

As any avid metro rider in DC knows, Metro Center during rush hour is a cluster. In fact it's the worst part of my commute. Not so much the red line or the orange line, (though the orange line always smells vile), but the transition from one to the other. Tonight like any other night, I follow the cattle call of commuters from downstairs to upstairs and wait to get on the red line. The train pulls up, about a dozen or so of us go to get on, but then we stop. I mean we just STOPPED. I see people twisting and turning and picking up their purses and bags as if playing a vertical game of Twister and wonder, what the 'eff is taking so long?

I then get my turn to "board" if you will, and see firsthand the center of this commuting chaos. (If you've never been on the metro, or any subway for that matter let me take a minute to describe what it should look like: Double automated doors that open in the middle which are opposite to another set of double automated doors that are closed; or at least they should be closed. If both sets of doors are ever open you should pull that emergency handle or get on the big red phone and let the operator know asap b/c you're on messed up train.) Typically people who are getting off in one or two stops will "hover" by the doors b/c they don't want to get stuck in the middle of the train. But the eye of the storm for this bottle necking wasn't a bunch of "hoverer's" it was a woman, middle aged, with a TON OF STUFF.

What kinds of stuff you ask? Let's see she had an enormous suitcase, two large tote bags, a purse, oh and a D Y S O N V A C U U M cleaner!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes, the vacuum with the "balls". This woman had all of these things, was the first one to jump on the train, (while there were still people trying to get off mind you), and parks herself right to the left of the doors. Every single person from the group I was with had to do the "twist" in order to get around her. How can one person be that ignorant to not see how much of an obstruction they're causing to dozens of other commuters? I didn't get it. Instead I sat there and watched.

You want to know what she did next? AFTER everyone got on, she moved the herd of bags to the other side of the train and blocked the other set of doors. Coincidentally, those were the doors that opened at the next stop. Again I watched groups of strangers do the side step and "shimmy to the left, shimmy to the right" just to get around this lady.

But wait, there's more.

At the next stop, she decides she's sick of standing. So she goes and grabs a seat, not right next to her stuff, not one away from her stuff, she grabs a seat that is 3 ROWS AWAY from her belongings. Yes, I said that right, she was separated from her sh*t by three rows b/c she left all of it, (let's review: large suitcase, two totes and a D Y S O N), by the doors. Her ass was sitting down three rows back and her crap was all up in everyone's face unattended.

I didn't get it! I didn't know if I should be more floored by her audacity to carry such large items on a crowded train during rush hour or her ignorance in leaving them out in the way for anyone to take and for everyone to navigate around? I was tempted to grab it on my way off, wheel it to the middle of the platform and wave to her as she sat there on the train.

Hey Lady with the Dyson: If you have the money to cough up for a Dyson Vacuum, then you certainly have the coin to pay for a cab home. You're a douche who has a vacuum cleaner with a higher IQ than your own.

My two words for you are: Thank You. Thank you for giving me something to blog about. I'm pretty sure the other commuters on the train would be swapping the "thank" for another word though.

Repeat After Me: I Am Beautiful.

2009-11-12T18:11:00.000-08:00

I woke up this morning to a constellation of pimples around my mouth in a very bizarre similarity to The Little Dipper. I thought to myself, "what in the world did I eat to give me such a strange allergic reaction?" And you know what? I was pissed.

I'm weeks shy from celebrating my 35th birthday and the word acne was not supposed to be a part of my common verbiage. But there it was as plain as day and I became consumed on camouflaging them in order to look presentable for work. At that moment, I tuned into the segment I was listening to on the Today show, (a morning routine for me). Some of you may remember hearing the story this past February of a woman in CT who was attacked by a chimpanzee. She was actually mauled and in intensive care for months because her face was literally "ripped off". Hearing those words made me turn away from the bathroom mirror and walk into the living room. There she was, Charla Nash, the 56 year old woman who's life changed in the matter of an instance. I stood there frozen and listened to the remainder of her story on the Today show which featured the interview she did with Oprah. Moments later tears were running down my face as I tried to understand how someone has the strength to move on after experiencing such a tragedy.

I went back into the bathroom, grabbed a tissue and felt ashamed of myself for being so annoyed with a few pimples. My pimples would go away within a day or two, they are not painful and with a little make-up I can cover them up. The effects of Charla's accident forced her to walk around with a veil over her face for fear of scaring people. Read that sentence again. This poor woman's face was so mutilated that she doesn't even show it in public without putting a veil over it. My heart sank deeper and deeper into my stomach as I thought about what pain and suffering she must have been experiencing these past 9 months. The accident took away Charla's eye lid, nose, lips and hands. After an infection spread to her eyes she had to have them removed.

Charla has a daughter who went to the prom in the spring. Her one wish was that she had seen her daughter's prom dress on her. A request that sounded so simple and one that most Mother's are able to fulfill.

The part that hit me the hardest was when she said she has no anger about what happened to her. Her life was never going to be the same but she was determined to be on the path to heal and not spend energy being bitter.

There are so many lessons to learn from Charla. I keep thinking about her story and her courage. If everyone followed the same approach towards people when they have wronged us, think about how many problems would be solved. We wouldn't focus on the person who cut us off in traffic, we would just keep driving. We wouldn't focus on the person who is taking too long in the check out line, we would just find a gossip magazine to look through while waiting. We wouldn't put energy into the people we know are not worth putting energy into and invest our energy into those who deserve it and more importantly need it.

Be thankful for your senses and the gifts they provide you every day...

Take a deep breath in through your nose and smell your favorite perfume, coffee or wine. Smell something bad.

Look at yourself in the mirror, smile, wink and make a funny face.

Smooch your loved one....or your dog. Ask for one back.

Hold on to the railing, the steering wheel, the leash and the load of laundry because you have two hands and ten fingers to help you. Sign your name backwards.

Not everyone has the looks to be a super model on the outside, but all of us have what it takes to be a super hero on the inside. Beauty isn't something you see, it's something you feel.

I am wishing Charla a speedy recovery and peaceful days ahead. To read more about her story:
http://www.nypost.com/p/news/national/connecticut_woman_reveals_her_face_UyRIAA19fOecsBDOAW6iEP

Surfing Lessons 101

2009-11-09T20:38:00.000-08:00

Up until 2 weeks ago I was unemployed for 2 months.

I feel extremely fortunate in this economy to have found a job, in my field that did not require me to take drastic measures. Like anyone who has been in this situation, I had my share of ups and downs. I realized that it was equally important for me to socialize during this time period as it was for me to be surfing the web incessantly looking for a job. It's very easy to "hermitize" oneself and occupy your day with useless chores that don't really amount to anything or provide any gratification.

One ritual that I started was walking. I made myself get outside everyday for a walk in my neighborhood. It was nice to stroll down streets with no agenda or means of a shortcut, but simply to walk and to breathe fresh air. I always passed someone along the way who would say hi or a happy dog who greeted me with a wagging tail. Though these moments were fleeting, they were sometimes the extent of any human contact and real conversation that I would have for the day. Walking kept me engaged and forced me to interact in my community.

As the saying goes, "When you are given lemons you make lemonade", I too learned to adapt and use one of my greatest assets, my ingenuity. Entertainment can be expensive, especially in a city like DC, but it doesn't have to be that way. Below is a list of things that I discovered which brought me a sense of joy or a smile to my face. I want to share it in hopes that it will inspire you to look for the happiness in simplicity:

1. Pandas at The National Zoo: FREE I could watch these black and white creatures for hours. Their innocence and playfulness is a relaxing way to spend a half hour or an afternoon; I've done both.

2. Friday Night Movies on Bravo: FREE (w/cable) "Sleepless in Seattle" and "You Have Mail" have entertained me more often then I can remember.

3. Cleveland Park Wine & Spirits Friday Night Wine Tastings: FREE I think that pretty much speaks for itself. I was able to sample some new wine and chat with people like me who love wine; enough said.

4. Ice Water at Happy Hours: FREE A lot of networking events are focused on Happy Hours. If you're not careful you could blow a lot of money going to three or more a week. I learned that ice water is just as appropriate to carry around as a glass of wine. I've never been so hydrated, my skin looked decent for once and the constant trips to the ladies room always gave me an out to exit one conversation and enter a new one.

5. Celeste Frozen Pizzas. I love these things! My friend Laurin introduced them to me. They make me think of her when I heat one up and they are usually on sale 5 for 5dollars. Now that's a deal.

6. Red Box Movies at Giant: $1.99

7. The National Cathedral: FREE Many afternoons I would walk up to the Cathedral and find a quiet corner to sit and absorb the feeling of being so small in a structure that is so big. The Rose Gardens outside are also another favorite thinking spot.

8. Facial Packets from CVS: $2.00 I have no idea what brand they are but I find them in the skin care aisle at CVS. For $2 you get two applications of a mud mask or seaweed treatment. If I close my eyes, put on Enya and light some scented candles to drown out the disgusting food my neighbor upstairs cooks everyday, I can pretend I'm at a spa.

9. Pepperidge Farm Mint Milanos: $2.49. The best cookie ever invented hands down.

10. A new song from iTunes: .99 All it takes is a new song or an old favorite to remind us of happier times and our mood totally changes.

Sometimes, the boundaries of happiness are limited only by the parameters of our imagination and the courage to explore our curiosity.

Why don't bathroom partitions have cup holders?

2009-11-08T18:21:00.000-08:00

For the first time ever I visited The Starboard in Dewey Beach. I made the trip with my sister who had been several times over the summer. I was excited to experience this place firsthand and see what this place was all about.

The drink of choice for the evening turned out to be vodka/tonics. I'm always hesitant about drinking liquor because I know a hangover is in my future. At the Starboard they serve their drinks with straws which is the key ingredient for a hazy night. After numerous vodka/tonics it was time to use the restroom. I had just gotten a new drink and realized after walking in that there was no one behind me to ask to hang on to it, so I brought it into the stall with me. Not sure why I thought there would be a good place to rest my drink, but I decided that the toilet paper dispenser was wide enough and stable enough to support my beverage for three minutes. It was doing a great job, but then it all went wrong.

I sit down, (after thoroughly wiping down every surface that I would be coming in contact with), and suddenly the empty stall next to me became occupied. The slamming of the partition door created such a jolting force that my drink jumped, not fell, it jumped square into my underwear. It was as if the cup sprouted wings and flew right onto me. I was in shock as I watched the cup bounce across the floor and slide under another stall. I had my own personal ice sculpture topped with an orange slice sitting there in the crotch of my underwear. I didn't even know where to begin in the clean up process. I lifted the ice pile and threw it to the side only to have it land on the feet of the girl in the next stall who responded, "What the 'eff? Where did this ice come from?" I felt bad as she slipped on it trying to walk out.

Luckily for me my jeans were dark, the bar was dark and everyone was beyond drunk. Though the remaining time at the bar were a little cold and uncomfortable, the evening proved memorable. Lesson Learned: Hit the restroom first, then the bar.

And the Word of the Day is...

2009-11-08T18:05:00.000-08:00

Dewche Bag /dew-sh bag/noun:

1. A male patron of Dewey Beach incapable of intelligent conversation, enjoying a Saturday night or managing to make a female laugh and who resorts to criticism and insults in order to get attention.

2. A male with low IQ, low self-esteem and low charisma.

3. A male with no balls.

No Thank You, I'm Satisfied

2009-09-21T20:28:00.000-07:00

When I was little my Mom and Dad would take my sister and I out to dinner on Saturday nights once in a while. We always went to the same place, The Sunset. My Mom always ordered seafood or fish, my Dad usually had some type of Surf 'N Turf and my sister and I typically experimented. I often explored Italian food like Veal Parmigiana. That quickly ended once I realized what goes on behind the scenes to produce veal.

I would eat as much as I could and still have a ton leftover on my plate. My Dad would say, "That's all you're going to eat?" and I would force myself to take a few more bites. My Mom had, and still does have, a huge sweet tooth. She loved dessert and always looked forward to it. Sometime I would try to eat a sundae or a piece of cake but was never very successful. My Dad never ordered dessert because he knew that between the three of us there would be more than enough.

After dinner we had a certain "ritual" if you will. We did the same thing every time like clockwork. My sister and I would be the first to give up, put our forks down and slouch back in our seats. Then my Mom would follow suit, only she would say something really dramatic like, "I'm so full, I feel like a stuffed cow." My Dad would look at her and say something to the effect of, "Oh you didn't have that much to eat!" He would pay the bill and our bloated family would head home.

From these outings I learned many things besides where veal comes from. I learned that I didn't like the feeling of being full. In fact, I hated it. Being full and having a stomach ache because you ate too much just seemed like such a stupid thing to do to yourself. As I got older I became more aware of that feeling. I realized that before you get full, you get to a point where you are satisfied. You're no longer hungry, you're craving has been met and you are 100% satisfied.

Satisfied? Well that doesn't sound like any fun does it? Even the word satisfactory makes us cringe and sets into motion a self analysis of what we could have done better or how we could improve. No one wants to be satisfied. We learn at a young age that we want more...we want to be super-sized...we want to be full. The problem occurs when this transcends food and controls other parts of our life and our happiness.

Wouldn't it be nice if there was a way we could monitor our "hunger" if you will, for everything in life, besides food? When do we get to a point where we are satisfied with the other parts? And is it bad to be satisfied? Do we always need something better, something new? Will we ever look at our job and be satisfied with our work or will we always wonder if there is a better position out there? Will we ever be satisfied with our paycheck or will we always be hungry to make more money? Do we see ourselves ever being happy with the amount of cars or shoes or clothes we have? When do we get to that point, that critical point of just being satisfied?

Being satisfied isn't bad but we are trained to go beyond satisfactory with everything. We don't settle for a satisfactory anything, we know there has to be something bigger, better and more expensive out there. How do we train ourselves to be happy with the four pairs of black shoes we already have at home? Or the 5000 songs that we already have on our iPod? I don't know if there is a way of getting that sense of fulfillment by looking at the "stuff" we already own, but wouldn't it be nice if it was just as easy as having too much chocolate cake?

It's a muddled and equally dangerous line that we walk between the feeling of stuffed and the feeling of content. "Being happy with what you already have" sounds like such easy advice but it may just be the hardest advice to follow.

R E S P E C T: FIND OUT WHAT IT MEANS

2009-09-17T21:23:00.000-07:00

Dear Prospective Employer,

Though I appreciate the opportunity to be invited in for an interview, I think we both know without any hesitation that this relationship just isn't going to work. I feel confident that you will not be giving me an offer but in turn I would like to offer you the following words of wisdom.

For starters, never begin the interview with, "And you are....oh, right, right,...did I tell you to come in today?" It gives one the feeling that you are less then prepared to have a conversation let alone excited about it. Also, when we sit down you should be looking at me and my portfolio, not looking around the room or in your case down the hall. I understand interviewing is not easy, but put yourself in my shoes. If every time I look up and see you look past me in hopes of catching the eye of another colleague to pull into the room, what's the point of me even talking at all? In fact, why the hell did I lug this huge portfolio and 3 sets of construction drawings all the way down here if you're not even going to give me the common courtesy of eye contact. I got more attention from the construction workers on the corner of Connecticut and L walking over here.

Second point: Don't make "uuuu huh" the only response you give as I show you page after page of my portfolio. This is the part where you make comments, ask questions about my work, and yes, pretend to be interested and slightly impressed.

Third point: When you stood up and walked out of the room and then came back in and sat down without even saying "excuse me" or "sorry about that", it kind of pissed me off. I believe I was in the middle of speaking and you WALKED OUT OF THE ROOM.

Fourth point: Bringing people into the interview after it's started without introducing them to me, but handing them a copy of my resume and expecting me to just keep on speaking, is extremely rude. Who are these people and why did you make a point to wave them down and bring them in here? Are we trading horses here? Do you want to look at my teeth, too?

Fifth point: As architects you should be keenly aware of one of the fundamental properties of glass---it's reflective. If you make a weird face or point at me after I've left the room I can still see your reflection in the glass across the hallway. And by the way, you're a jack ass for doing that.

Last point: I think we both knew after the first 5 minutes, or rather the first 5 times I caught you looking off into space, that this just wasn't a good fit. We should have just cut the tie right then and there. You could have gone back to your desk and Facebooked and I could have gone over to Lucky Bar where they have a killer happy hour special that starts at 4 o'clock.

Oh, and one last thing. You may want to refrain from asking someone, (after they've told you they were laid off), if they thought it was performance related rather lack of work. If I did, I certainly wouldn't be broadcasting that to a perspective employer now would I? ("Actually, I was 'let go' because the boss found out I was a closet alcoholic and discovered the bottle of Jack Daniels in my desk. But for the purposes of this interview, I was laid off." wink wink)

Interviews can be fun when you realize the job isn't for you.