Word of the Day: Homemade

home·made
1. made or prepared at home, locally, or by the maker's own efforts

I have been to four Christmas parties this week. For each I have made some incredibly involved appetizer or food dish, prepared entirely from scratch with my own hands -- very homemade -- and might I add, delicious. But I've come to realize that no one cares if you bring something homemade or if you stop by the store for some cheese and crackers. As long as the food is edible, they will eat it, and they don't care if you slaved over it for approximately 2 seconds in the line at Giant, or if you lovingly prepared it over the course of five hours at home. Therefore, I have decided to no longer make things at home for public consumption at parties where no one cares. Sorry everyone -- no more chili cheese bread, ginger beef wraps, chocolate kahlua triffle. No more.

Merry Christmas!

Word of the Day: Disquietude

dis·qui·e·tude
–noun the state of disquiet; uneasiness.

I type this as I am listening to a choir of cicadas hissing in the background. That might not seem abnormal, since cicadas naturally make their home here in Washington D.C., but if you add the fact that I am sitting inside a building right now and it is December, then you've got a strange conundrum. The fact is, the noise is not cicadas, it is a loose or leaky pipe that hisses invariably as air is forced through it. The noise has lasted now seven days.

This would not be a problem for the normal human being. But alas, I am not normal. We knew that already. I have super-sonic hearing. You laugh, I know. But it is very true. I sometimes hear noises that no one else in the world would ever notice unless I was kind enough to point them out. My coworkers often balk at me for pointing out noises such as the cicadas to them because they were blissfully unaware until I mentioned it. But why should I suffer alone because of my "special" hearing? I might have to buy a pair of noise reduction headphones just to survive.

You're laughing again. But there's an actual hormone, called aldosterone, that can increase your hearing as you get older and higher levels are produced. If my hearing gets any better, I won't be able to live in a normal society.

Today is my dad's birthday. And just so he knows that I'm thinking of him, I thought I'd broadcast it all over the Internet.

Word of the Day: Clairvoyant

clair·voy·ant –adjective
1. having or claiming to have the power of seeing objects or actions beyond the range of natural vision.

Astrology. Not something I regularly pay any attention to. But now a study done by the auto insurance industry tells what drivers are best and worst based on astrological sign. Is it possible? Well, I agree with their findings that Scorpios, along with Sagitarians and Capricorns, are the best drivers. I tend to consider myself a fairly decent - okay in general a superb - driver. But how much can be told by adding up the number of people filing claims by sign? I have a feeling the findings are constantly influx, as the happenstance of accidents favor one particular of the signs. In other words, it's certainly not an exact science.

Carol Allen, one of the most respected astrologers in the country and the astrologer of choice to Hollywood’s movers and shakers, explains that in astrology, the month of your birth may be less important than the position of the planets at a given time.

“In astrology, there is actually a planet that represents vehicles and a planet that represents accidents,” she says. “When the planet of vehicles is with the planet of accidents, no matter what the person’s sign -- they will have accidents!”

Word of the Day: Sui Generis

sui generis \soo-eye-JEN-ur-us; soo-ee-\, adjective:
Being the only example of its kind; constituting a class of its own; unique.

This weekend I went to an Air Force Holiday concert at DAR Constitution Hall. I think concerts like these hold more meaning when you're seeing them in the nation's capital. There's something about the uniform and the flags and the "pomp and circumstance" that is more thrilling with the proximity to the center of the free world.

We may have been the only young people (and by young I mean under 60) in attendance, as we realized while standing in line behind more than a few blue haired ladies. However, you cannot discount the children who were forced to attend by their well-meaning parents. They were all dressed up in their finest Christmas clothing. And oh so cute.

The reason for attending, aside from the culture and our very well-rounded taste in music, was to see my friend Brad perform in the Singing Sergeants. Brad was chosen in 2004 to sing the National Anthem at the Presidential Inauguration. So you can imagine how incredible a voice he has. They performed a very silly version of the 12 Day of Christmas that was worth all the minutes of my life I lost during the reading of Why the Christmas Tree isn't Perfect, an extremely long and boring children's story about "little limb" or "tiny tree" or whatever the stupid tree's name was.

And then on Saturday we had our very best ever small group social -- a Christmas party that attracted over 150 people between the hours of 6 and midnight. An amazing turnout!

Word of the Day: Procrastination

I know. I know. I'm suddenly the kind of blogger that I hate. The one who doesn't post for weeks on end and then when she finally does, has nothing to say. The thing is, well, I just don't have anything to say. I think a year and a half of blogging every day has run the well dry. Let's face it. I'm boring. Ever since I learned that Gene was ending his chat until next May, I have had very little will to write. How can I survive without Gene? And then to add to injury, Allofmp3.com is closing down. Now where will I get my music? You don't know me at all if you're thinking right now that I should use iTunes.

So it's my favorite time of year again (sarcasm intended). Every parking spot in every parking lot is taken by serious shoppers looking for bargains. I have done all of my shopping via the Internet this year. Starting this weekend, I'm no longer leaving the house for anything except work. The crowds are insane. I cannot take one more person cutting me off in traffic, one more crazy parent pushing a stroller over my foot, one more insane child screaming over the toy their parent won't buy them. Why do people lose their common sense at Christmas?

Word of the Day: Accent

I'm from Oregon. I have no accent. The only word I pronounce strangely is "bandana" and that is only because I choose to change the a into an e and call it "bendena". It's non-scientific silliness. Anyway, I was flying back to DC from Oregon a week ago and I noticed something rather peculiar. I've known this for a while because my mom and sister do it, but I had forgotten until I heard it again and some people next to me laughed at the absurdity. The flight attendant was telling us that the flight to Washington DC would be boarding soon. Only she didn't say Washington, she said "Warshington". This would also occur when someone mentioned doing the warsh or warshing the car. I think it's strictly a west coast thing, maybe even just Oregon. But my coworker says that her dad uses the extra R there too and he's from Texas. So maybe not.

The other word I can think of that we use in the West that I don't think is necessarily used here is "sack" as in a grocery sack. People here only use the word bag.

So I took this quiz and it predicted my accent correctly in that it showed The West as being the highest donominator... but The Midlands? I don't think so. It seems to think that people from Pennsylvania don't have an accent and I greatly disagree...

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Midland "You have a Midland accent" is just another way of saying "you don't have an accent." You have a good voice for TV and radio.
The West
North Central
Boston
The Inland North
Philadelphia
The South
The Northeast
What American accent do you have? Take More Quizzes

Word of the Weekend: Architecture

I went to Chicago for the long weekend to visit a dear friend of mine whom I haven't seen in a while. She used to live in Washington and we were inseparable. Then she moved. :(

Anyway, she took me on this incredible architectural boat tour along the lake which taught us everything we'd ever want to know about the buildings of Chicago's downtown area, including the Sears Tower and the Woolworths buildings. I learned a lot of great things about both the architectural styles and Chicago itself, but the overall feeling I came away with was how depressing the Modern style is. Whoever thought that was a good idea (his name is Mies van der Rohe) was pulling a fast one over on everything. Imagine the money he made off of these designs. And all they really amounted to was a rectangular box with no ornamentation, no detail, no creativity. Just a black, lifeless box. Here's an example of the typical Mies van der Rohe design. Those buildings in the background have parking on the lower 20 or so levels. It's rather disconcerting to see cars hanging out where BBQs should be.

Oh and I tried two different kinds of Chicago deep dish pizza. So now I feel that I've had the Chicago experience and I can add it to my list of cities that I actually know something about. I'd never move there though -- too darn cold. While it was 75 degrees here, it was a mere 35 there. Brrr.

Word of the Day: Vow

vow 
noun: a solemn promise, pledge, or personal commitment

I went to Oregon last week for an emergency trip. The late notice ticketing of course gave me no options as to flight times, etc, and that makes for some crazy routing. Why one has to fly an hour north to get 2 hours south is still something I'm comtemplating days later. I had three layovers on each leg of the race -- er, flight. I have also discovered the worst possible way to spend your birthday. It involves a security gate, four-inch wide coach-class seat and the option to buy a pre-heated ecoli burger with onions for $10.

The trip was worth it though because I got to see my family, whom I often don't see but twice during the year, and I was able to see my grandmother, whom I see once every three years, if I'm lucky. She and my grandfather were married for 70 years. If only we could pull that off in our own generation. It took incredible amounts of dedication and patience, I'm sure, but today we are so divorce happy that a 10-year marriage seems long. Look at Britney... two years was actually kind of a long time to be married to that loser, but did she really go into that thinking she'd be happily married to Kevin Federline for 70 years? I don't think we go into marriage for the long haul anymore. I think we only consider marriage with our "today" glasses on. Maybe I'm wrong, but look at all these celebrities with kids and broken marriages.

No More Animals!

I've now read two articles today alone that discuss the idea that animals have become more human-like, even to the point that some animals have cognitive awareness of self and can identify themselves in a mirror. Not just chimpanzees, which have forever been the only animals to display human-like behavior. Now scientists think that elephants might have the ability to identify themselves (read this article).

Yesterday I read an article about how a honeybees genome sequence is more similar to a humans than any other insect. I know that sounds extremely boring, but this article says "Understanding the bee genome might lead to important insights into common mental and brain disorders, such as depression, schizophrenia or Alzheimer’s disease. The bee genome also might provide an important window into immunity and aging." I suppose it's a bit like mice and the fact that we can use them in studies to see how humans might react to drugs and to diseases like cancer, but it's still pretty amazing that researchers can use the DNA of a bee to determine how illnesses can affect humans. Of course, keep in mind that the only insects to be sequenced so far are the mosquito and the fruit fly.

Is it only a matter of time before we realize that animals are smarter and more useful than we ever imaged? I don't think we're quite there yet, at least I don't want to admit that we might be, since I don't really have a huge affection for animals. But I think it's quite possible that we've underestimated the ability of animals.

Word of the Day: Milestone

Milestone: a significant event or stage in the life, progress, development, or the like of a person, nation, etc.: Her getting the job of supervisor was a milestone in her career.

This is my 201st post. I knew the blog had come full circle when someone I don't know found photos of Michelle and me online and then somehow figured out where we work and tracked us down. All because of this darn blog that I can't even remember why I started. The photo in question is last year's Steve-o-ween photos. Turns out some people were googling Steveoween looking for photos and came across my blog (because I'm popular like that) and then we also learned that someone who helps plan the party every year is from Walla Walla. It's a really small world.

So, this year Steve-o-ween is no more. It was called 1324-o-ween or something not nearly as witty. I couldn't stand the thought of supporting a party that ditched Steve, so I went to some other parties instead. The first, on Friday, was a really large event. The hosts dressed as Motley Crew and spent the latter part of the event throwing waffles to an eager crowd. The second, on Saturday, was the scariest halloween party ever. I went as a Corpse Bride and won 2nd place for best costume. Whoo HOO!!

And here is my favorite photo of all -- a duel between 007 and Rainbow Brite.

More Clouds

As you may remember from previous posts, I once had a major crush on taking photos of clouds. I think I posted a dozen or so on here. Well, here's the king of all cloud photos. This was taken from the plane when we went to Fort Lauderdale earlier this month...

Pumpkin Picking

This post is going to be mostly photos. Last weekend we went on a trip to the Great Pumpkin Patch, where we picked out many lovely future jack-o-lanterns. Homestead Farms is the best place for pumpkin picking in the area. I go there for apples too, but their pumpkin patch is awesome.


Cassie and I agreed, cut-out photo ops are the best!


And here they are, all carved up

Word of the Day: Malcontent

malcontent
1. One who is discontented or dissatisfied

I have for a very long time sung the praises of the best music download site in the world, a site that charges (it professes legally) something like .10 cents per song and $1.28 for an album. I know this sounds ridiculously illegal, and most English sites charge $1 a song. But our IPR rules are must more stringent and less forgiving and, well, basically Napster ruined it for everyone a long time ago.

But now, after years of buying music for next to nothing, the pressure on this site to shut down is so great that they are revamping their website to comply with the rules, though only slightly. They will apparently now offer free albums but you can only use their software to play it -- which means no more downloading to the MP3 player. So what is the point of that? Sure it keeps people from distributing more copies of the music that was once delivered as an mp3. But will people really go for this? We are picky. We are demanding. And we want music for the sole reason of playing it on our way to work on the metro and running on the treadmill.

So, thus, I am really malconent at the idea of my perfect Russian music site changing. Who needs change anyway? Why can't we keep things exactly the same forever? Is that really too much to ask?

Word of the Day: NOTHING

I don't have anything profound to say, but I am forcing myself to find something even horribly mundane to write about because I am forced to sit in my cubical of hell for another 1 hour, 18 minutes before I can escape the miserable boredom that sinks in around 3:28 every single friday afternoon.

I spent a few long minutes playing around with the random insult generator but I got a little annoyed when all it would randomly spit out was "You should find out if your university has a refund policy." I think I started to take it persoanlly. Then I tried to see who my soul mate was after the very same insulting website told me it could pinpoint it with great accuracy. I learned that he will have brown, green or blue eyes and his name with start with a U, Z or F. Yeah. Ok.

This one is kinda fun -- you are presented with two bad things and you have to determine which of them is the worst.

It rains every day of your beach vacation.
The weather is perfect, but your hotel room smells like sour feet.

Your boss gives you a 10% pay cut.
Your boss advises you to work 10 extra hours per week.

Here's one I just made up myself:
You work in an office the size of a small bedroom but there are no windows.
You work in a very small cube situated along a bank of floor-to-ceiling windows.

I'm taking Michelle out to dinner and a movie for her birthday tonight in Dupont Circle. Maybe that's why I'm so bored today -- there's something really fun to look forward to.

Word of the Day: Inscrutable

inscrutable:
Difficult to fathom or understand; difficult to be explained or accounted for satisfactorily; obscure; incomprehensible; impenetrable.

Finally, after many days and nights of wonderment, I have discovered what those three incredibly vexing steel spears are that stick up into the sky near Arlington National Cemetary and the Pentagon. I have literally spent hours in dazed confusion over the seemingly random "art" that someone must think is worthy of displaying so prominently along 395 for everyone to see. As this Washington Post article puts it, "From a distance they look like the ribs of a crown roast, or a metallic flower or the graceful ends of a scallion sliced for the crudites platter."

It is none other than the new Air Force Memorial.

I am reminded again of a game in the Mole when I see these spears. The game was for half the team to create a work of art that would be displayed in a gallery opening alongside actual works of professional artists. They created this fabulous treasure chest with a boxing glove on a chain coming out of it -- I think you have to see it to appreciate it. Anyway, they ruined it by putting jewels just out of reach of the glove, which complicated it too much and destroyed the vision. This memorial does that to me. It might have been an interesting concept if it didn't include all these extra elements that complicate it (read the article for more detail). And for the fact that driving by on the freeway, there's no earthly way to tell what it is, and believe me, it's not apparent. To me it looks like a student art project gone wrong.

Word of the Day: Chocolate

I was devastated to learn just now that I am missing the 23rd Annual Chocolate Festival in Lexington market in Baltimore this weekend. I was wondering if such a festival existed, after nearly consuming an entire Caramello (not the regular small size, I admit). Of all the chocolate in the world, I might have the biggest weakness for Caramello. With exception of the insanely delicious caramels I found in a small shop in Brussels (where I learned the true meaning of "to die for").

The festival claims to offer lots of chocolate samples, but the best part, by far, is the chocolate eating contest. Imagine the stomachache that would produce! I mean hotdog eating is bad enough, but stuffing multiple chocolates in your mouth at one time invokes scary memories of the time on Amazing Race when they had to consume hundreds of truffles in search of one that had a white chocolate center.

And speaking of white chocolate, I took a survey to find out what kind of chocolate I was and as it turns out, I am...

You are White Chocolate

You have a strong feminine side with a good bit of innocence thrown in. Whether your girlish ways are an act or not, men like to take care of you. You are an understated beauty, and your power is often underestimated!

What Kind of Chocolate Are You?

Word of the Day: Incompetence

in‧com‧pe‧tence 
1. the quality or condition of being incompetent; lack of ability.

Finally we have an explanation for why all those terrible singers go on the American Idol tryouts even though they can't carry a note. Can they not hear for themselves just how awful they are? I've always wondered, and now we have an answer...

People who do things badly, Dunning has found in studies conducted with a graduate student, Justin Kruger, are usually supremely confident of their abilities -- more confident, in fact, than people who do things well.

So now I can imagine why people who really can't paint keep on doing it, and why there are so many horrible writers trying to get their novels published. The problem this poses, particularly in terms of writing, is that it's possible that my writing sucks too and I just don't know it. I can be assured by one thing -- I don't think my writing is all that good, and if I was incompetent I would think it was wonderful. So I don't think I'm afflicted by this.

"Incompetent individuals were less able to recognize competence in others," the researchers concluded.

My Space? Are you serious?

At least eight people in the past few months have asked me if I have a My Space page. Seriously, wasn't My Space a thing like 10 years ago, and shouldn't we be over it by now? According to a friend of mine, also a staunch participater in the My Space movement, this is a great way to get to know people. He suggests I add random people we know, but who do not know me. I don't know about that. Sounds sketchy.

So apparently it's a social hotbed for all the "cool" people who attend my church, McLean Bible's Frontline. And if I don't get on it, I'm going to be left in the dust of special society. Should I, or shouldn't I? That is the question.

Where to find me on MySpace

Word of the Day: Vexation

vex·a·tion (vk-sshn) Pronunciation Key
n.
The act of annoying, irritating, or vexing.
The quality or condition of being vexed; annoyance.
A source of irritation or annoyance.

So I'm standing at the grocery store the other day. I have four items. Dutifully, I get in line behind a woman with a cartful of things that she is unloading from her cart. This is the shortest line. I only have four items.

The woman stands and watches as the checker scans her 412 items and waits for him to give her a total. And once he does, she sets her bag on the counter and begins the tedius task of routing around for her CHECKBOOK. After what felt like 15 minutes of her scrawling in the checkbook, she tears out the check, hands it to the cashier, who quickly scans it through and hands back a receipt. Then the woman folds up the receipt, flips through her wallet to the section where she stores receipts, rearranges a few things, then inserts the receipt. I think she's leaving now, finally, so I sort of rudely sidle up to the front with my debit card in hand. But no, she's not done. She's now filling the amount of the purchase into her check register.

I implore you. WHO STILL KEEPS A CHECK REGISTER????

So today, Gene's chat is back after three long weeks on hiatus. I was very happy to see it's return. And even more happy to see a link to a column he did last week regarding the very pain I just described. Gene understands me.

Here's a short excerpt:

My profound impatience about small matters of everyday living is both a curse and an embarrassment. At these times I enter my own personal space, in which I become something that rhymes with "glass bowl." This is my Glass Bowl Mode.

Glass Bowl Mode is wordless but, sadly, not entirely interior and private. I roll my eyes. I fidget. I take long, deep, sighs. That is why, when I finally make it to the front of the line and the anxiety ebbs, I am filled with remorse and self-loathing and become overly cordial to the point of obsequiousness. It is hell being me.

Exactly.

Word of the Day: Laudable

Laud‧a‧ble: Deserving praise; praiseworthy; commendable

We had another extremely successful small group social last night. Over 12 groups were invited to a Spanish Fiesta at Ashley's house. At least 55 people made it out and we had way too much food and... candy. My fault on the candy, but I couldn't help but get a pinata. It was a Fiesta -- what kind of host would I be without providing a pinata. It was shaped like a chili pepper and Ashley smashed it and all the candy against the wall with the handle of a broom. It was well worth the effort.

Next month, being October and one of the best months of the year, we will be having three pumpkin picking socials and "hopefully" a haunted forest social, if someone with less fear than me will agree to host it. I don't know, maybe people don't like haunted things anymore. Maybe as we get older we give up on being scared as something "fun" to do. Next to go -- roller coasters and sledding down extremely steep sheets of ice. Oh and skydiving. Ever since plummeting to what should have been my death from a crop duster 12,000 ft in the air, I have changed my perspective on the activities I do for fun now. Being firmly attached to the ground at all times is a good start. Haunted houses have never really been my thing. "Monsters" with fake blood dripping down their faces and arms protruding from their necks, welding (albeit plastic) butcher knives as they jump from a thicket of trees and scare the night out of me is just no longer fun. I still remember when my dad took my sister and me to a haunted house when I was maybe 5 years old. I'm sure it was the stupidest haunted house ever built, but I was so freaked out we had to leave through a stage door halfway through. I just went geocaching with my parents today and we had this tarantula travel bug that I had wrapped in a plastic bag so I didn't have to look at it. I made my dad take it away. It's been in my possession far too long. You know you're old when... a plastic spider scares you.

Apple Picking!

It's my favorite time of year again... And why I love it so much is based entirely on my obsession with apple picking. I think this stems from my childhood -- I was raised in a house that was completely surrounded by apple orchards (except for the one rogue cherry orchard). The best time of year was September because we could walk 50 yds in any direction and pick a ripe apple or 50 right off the branch. Now, I make the trek up to Poolesville, Maryland, every year to relive the joy I got from this activity as a child.

This year was lovely, but not quite the same with out my friend Dawn there, whom I've gone apple picking with for three years. This year, Brian and Michelle and Eric went with and we came back with some good apples, with which I aspire to make a deliciously apple crisp... if things ever slow down long enough for me to slice the apples and be home long enough to not burn down my condo because I forgot I turned on the oven.

Word of the Day: Aficionado

aficionado: an enthusiastic admirer; a fan.

I have for a long time been an admiring fan of tea. Black tea, green tea, white tea... There's this great place called Teavana that supplies my expensive habit for exceptional loose leaf tea. They have some of the best mixes I've ever tasted -- such as the Jasmin Dragon Phoenix Pearl with Rooibos Tropica and Ginger Peach Apricot. It's been so dreary and gray here the past week, I've been drinking multiple cups a day. Now I hear that store-bought tea bags are going to get fancy. They're finally going to start selling high-quality long leaf tea in nylon mesh bags shaped for a better brew, in place of the left-over crumblings of low-quality tea in paper teabags. I'm excited.

In other news, Walla Walla, Wash., which many of you know is where I grew up, has been named the top place to retire in the U.S. I think their reasoning is a bit faulty, but is there really any place in the world that is perfect for retirement? The Walla Walla area used to be nothing special, but now there are hundreds of wineries, rolling hills of grapes, cute eclectic storefronts and three colleges. The population is only 30,000 and the median 3-bedroom house costs roughly the same as my 700 sq ft one-bedroom condo. I definitely remember a time when it was more podunkville than anything else. But yay for Walla Walla.

Word of the Day: Alfresco

alfresco \al-FRES-koh\, adverb:
1. In the open air; outdoors.

I went on a retreat this weekend with 500 other people pretending to be 10 again at summer camp. It was a very, um, interesting weekend, since the majority of us were over the age of 25, some even approaching the over the hill mark. That did not stop anyone from making complete fools out of themselves. Why is it that packing a backpack full of clothes, going away from home and sleeping in groups of 10 on bunkbeds in cabins makes us feel young again? This camp was unlike any other I've seen. It was a walking, talking liability in every imaginable form. We had to sign fourteen forms releasing the camp of all responsibility before we were able to set foot outside the registration building.

The cabin I stayed in was called Miner's Mountain. This was no ordinary cabin. It was a "luxury" cabin. There was vinyl siding. No hot water, but that's a different story. So we go in to pick our bunks and realize that someone has elected to bring their mother on the trip. Their very out-of-place 70-year-old mother. My first thought: do they really think we need cabin moms at this age? My second thought: Oh, that's so sad. And it really was. This girl was the highest maintenance morning person I have ever encountered. She had to get up 6am just to make it to breakfast at 9am. She took one hour to shower and get dressed, one hour for makeup, one hour for hair. I am not exaggerating. At 8:20am on Sunday morning, after the whole camp had been up until 2:30am the previous night, she bolts out of bed and yells "Girls! Wake up!! Breakfast is over. We missed it." I am a very light sleeper, and had been awake laying in my bed cursing her since she'd gotten up. But now she was frantic because we had all overslept. Only... we hadn't. Breakfast didn't even START until 9am. I, as politely as possible for being woken up on numerous occasions during the night by her incessant snoring, informed her that I would be getting up at 8:45 and I did not need her help in preparing myself for breakfast. She probably rolled her eyes at me. Sure enough, at 8:45 I got in the shower, and I was waiting for breakfast before the doors even opened.

The camp had this big giant thing called a blob that was floating on the edge of a man-made lake. You'd jump off the tower onto the blog then position yourself precariously on the edge and wait for someone to jump down and catapult you off the edge and into the water. Cassie and I enjoyed watching people splat on their faces. There was a zip line that dropped you into the lake near the blog. This afforded great laughter as we saw numerous people lose their shorts upon hitting the water. There was a rock-climbing wall, two water slides, a very large sling-type swing, a thing they call "The Pole" and a ropes course. I'm telling you, it was a liability waiting to happen. Fortunately the only injury was when Greg got pelted in the face by a dodgeball and ended up with a black eye on his birthday. Good times.

Word of the Day: Grandee

grandee:
1. A man of elevated rank or station.

A new study shows that taller people are smarter. And not only are they smarter, they make more money. According to the study, "For both men and women in the United States and the United Kingdom, a height advantage of four inches equated with a 10 percent increase in wages on average."

Average height for women is 5'4". I find this study intriguing because it doesn't seem possible that height could have anything to do with your financial success, unless there was a trend of employers choosing to hire taller people because they appear more responsible and/or capable. However, that doesn't seem to be the case, because the study shows that the advantage begins early in childhood when height isn't necessarily a factor. Even before schooling begins, researchers were able to determine that children who grew up to be taller than average had higher than average test scores pre-school age. Now that's interesting.