You, Me and My Soapbox

Depression does not skip over people because they’re attractive, gifted, successful or well-liked, and while the causes of depression can certainly vary, it’s not picky about selecting its victims. It’s high time we take note. Instead of speculating about what single personal incident must have sent Owen Wilson “over the edge” perhaps, collectively, we should stop stigmatizing and start treating.

For a touching discussion of Wilson’s work and life to date, without the annoying speculation, see Matt Zoller Seitz (hat tip ALOTT5MA) for the only essay I’ve read about this news that didn’t make me want to scream. Like Seitz, I look forward to seeing more of Owen Wilson and wish him well in his recovery. He’s a favorite of mine.

For a clip from Wedding Crashers that makes me laugh, see You Tube. (This link is not safe for work or kids.)

For more information about stopping suicide - visit SAVE.

Posted in Serious Side |

Here’s a riddle for you.

I’ve noticed some bloggers like to post trivia questions, puzzles, tricky math problems and the like. Math has never been my best subject, but here’s my offering to the genre.

Take a [relatively] normal suburban family of five.

Subtract dad (send him, oh, say, on a corporate environmental awareness building exercise to the northern recesses of Canada.)

Next, subtract his cell phone and Blackberry service

Multiply that by nine days.

Immediately before he leaves put mom in a 6.2 mile practice run for “The Race” … with a chest cold … in the rain.

Subtract mom’s ability to move her legs … and breathe.

To the tornado toddler add a case of strep throat, subtract 48 hours worth of sleep and ramp up the “no-momma-I-no-gonnas” by an exponential power of he’s two.

Send in one grandma on loan from her home afar. Add an arthritic flare up in her back and subtract her ability to extend her arms above shoulder height.

Take the princess preschooler and add a fever, stuffy nose, upper respiratory problems, a sore throat and multiply by several gallons of whiny. (But not, apparently, the streptococcus bacteria. Just for fun, be sure to give her the rapid strep test anyway so that you can add in a few choruses of “you said they wouldn’t stick that thing in my throat”).

Subtract more sleep.

Add one online work project (due Friday).

Subtract an Internet connection (is it road construction? is it weather? is it just me? They don’t know).

Multiply by THREE DAYS.

Measure in a six year old’s birthday and add a new remote control robot from the aforementioned grandma. Give the robot the ability to do all kinds of things, including burp loudly.

Now, subtract the instructions. (But don’t worry, even though the six year old won’t be able to do much with it, he’ll remember how to make it burp. Loudly.)

Finally, add 6 days of straight, non-stop rain and subtract the ability to go outside.

So what do you get? Is it:
a) Pity. Party of One.
b) The explanation for my bloggy drought
c) Justification for the huge piece of chocolate cake I’m about to eat
OR
d) All of the above.

Posted in Ranting and Whining |

I never did like Socrates.

I’m sitting in my office staring across the desk at a portrait of Hal Higdon.

Because I’m dreaming, and because I don’t really know what Hal Higdon looks like, the person in the picture looks just like Dumbledore looked in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. But it’s not Dumbledore. It’s definitely Hal Higdon.

I’m quite angry with Hal. In fact, I’m shouting at the painting. “But I’ve been so good. I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. Why isn’t your stupid program working?”

Hal’s portrait remains calm. “What do you mean? It is working. Your fitness is improving.”

“It IS NOT working. I haven’t lost a SINGLE POUND!” I yell. “I’ve been spending all this time with Running, and I haven’t lost ONE SINGLE POUND!”

Suddenly Hal’s gone. The portrait has vanished. I look around. Apparently, either I’ve died and gone to hell or my dream has morphed and dragged me back to law school. My classmates stare at me. From behind the podium my Evidence professor, a man named Dripps, squints his evil eyes and fires up a Socratic jackhammer.

“Do you have an answer Ms. L?” Dripps is talking to me.

“Umm, What was the question?”

“Why do you think you aren’t losing any weight?” he repeats impatiently.

“I don’t know. I’ve been keeping up pretty well with the running.”

“Hmm. Ms. L’s been running. Is exercise the only thing you must do in order to lose weight? Or is there more? What else might one need to do to get healthy?”

I stare blankly and start sweating.

“Can anyone help Ms. L out?” Dripps surveys the classroom over his glasses. A skinny blonde thing shoots her hand up. “You really can’t maintain a healthy weight without changing your diet, too, in addition to exercise,” she offers.

“Ahh, Diet. Interesting. What do you think about that Ms. L? How’s your diet?”

I swallow hard and keep staring blankly.

“What did you have for breakfast yesterday, Ms. L?”

“A Krispy Kreme”

“And for dinner the day before that?”

“I missed dinner, so I just grabbed a Snickers bar out of the vending machine at work.” I admit. “But they’re packed with peanuts. They really satisfy.”

“Last weekend, though,” Dripps continues, “you must have eaten better last weekend, right?”

“Well, last weekend I was in Chicago. There’s this pizza place by my sister’s house called ‘Piece’. Plus, Chicago has the best breakfast food. I had these awesome banana pancakes at Feast. And, well, obviously we couldn’t walk right by Margie’s Candies without getting ice cream. I had my oldest son with me. He really wanted ice cream.”

Dripps opens his mouth to reply, but before he can say anything - it’s over. I’ve grabbed a life line and returned to my bed. I’m awake now. Awake and weighing in at my starting weight from six weeks ago.

No clue why.

Posted in Ten Mile Madness |

Yes, I do put a sticker on ‘rest’.

If you’ve been reading this blog for the last month or so then you know I’ve been diligently at work on two projects… this one and this one.

One of these things is going a bit better than the other, unfortunately.

Project One -

Project Two:

Posted in Ten Mile Madness |