I got Twelve .... 1) My greatest flaw is that I am, without fail, at least fifteen minutes late to wherever I am going. In instances of Great Life Importance, I set four alarms and get up two hours early. For example, the Bar Exam, I got up before dawn, ate a light, but healthy, breakfast, had a moderate amount of coffee (no tinkle breaks!), collected my perfectly lined-up highlighters, non-digital wrist watch, moderately sharpened pencils (no piercing the bluebook!), and dressed myself in my layered not-too-warm, not-too-cold, non-constrictive outfit, with quiet, soft-soled shoes, and walked out the door. Too bad I did not notice that my OFFICIAL ADMISSION TICKET had fallen out of my purse. So I failed … 2) .… Still reading? Ok, not really. I didn’t fail. But I did have to call my then-newlywed husband at work from a pay phone in Baltimore (Eww! The ear germs!) and ask him to DRIVE LIKE F*ING FIRE TO OUR APARTMENT, thirty minutes away from the test site, to find my OFFICIAL ADMISSION TICKET. He did, it was sitting neatly on the steps outside of our apartment. He drove ninety miles per hour back to the test site, begged his way past Convention Center security, and sprinted down the corridors to find the testing room. He produced my admission ticket to the proctor literally one minute before the Bar began, while I rocked back-and-forth in my seat. I passed. Good thing I married a former college basketball player known for his speed because if I had married a pianist or say, a javelin thrower, I would have been screwed. 3) Brevity is not my strong point. Especially when it comes to stories. 4) If Ethan had been a girl, he would have been named Allegra Mirepoix Bouquet Garni. Something classy. My strong desire to save Baby Girl Ethan from a lifetime of Jenny S./Heather B./Amy R. would have saddled him with some crazy names. An aside: My mom seriously lobbied to name me … wait for it … Rhoda. RHODA! I know. Poor taste in female names must a genetic Sebor thing. 5) I would not kick Anderson Cooper out of bed for eating Bar-B-Que (or crackers). Anderson, if you ever want to 360, have your people hit up my people. I’m down. 6) I spent a year living with a dead human body stuffed in a trunk hidden under the coffee table. Future surgical rock-star Karen Sutton would say it was her med school issued skeleton for “studying anatomy.” Whatever, semantics. 7) I spent my formative years with horses and cats, thus have always been strongly entrenched in Camp Cat Lady. As I type this, the cable-knit sweater-wearing nine-pound dog on my lap, that one that I may or may have just shared a scone with (to convince him to stop drinking out of my latte) forces me to keep spelling words like NXcoiNBGOUB N OI because I am typing with my left hand so that I can throw “Busy Bee” with my right. At some point, I switched teams. (Are you reading this Anderson!? Don’t tell me it’s not possible. I’m still holding out hope!) 8) Uttering the word “moist” out loud should be a felony. (Misdemeanors: loaf, panty, pulp, yummo, slurp.) 9) I will stop whatever I am doing to watch the following when they are on TV: Animal House, Clueless, A Christmas Story, Legally Blonde, and fauxumentaries about any type of haunting. (The latter will then cause weeks of nightmares. I am a slow learner.) 10) I have an inoperable brain tumor. I discovered this in 2007, when I was given six months to live. I’m not good with numbers, but that was at least seven months ago. I’m now on a first-name basis with a dozen of the world’s most revered neurosurgeons. My type of tumor is exceedingly rare, less than seventy cases ever reported. My surgeon’s advice is “keep on keeping on” or something to that effect. Turns out my parents were right, I AM a special snowflake. 11) Costumes I have worn in my life: equestrian, barn rat, parents’ prodigal child (First Born Syndrome), gap-toothed perm victim, field hockey bench warmer, homecoming queen, sorority letter wearer, party girl/closet studier, happy wife, litigation attorney, brain tumor patient/survivor, Mom (in all its forms, “Mamamamammamam, Momma, Mom-EEE, Mommy, MOMMY!!!!!, Mother (eye roll) – still evolving), Separated Wife, Writer. Some costumes fit better than others. Some costumes still subject to alterations. 12) I wrote a book! No, not the one above. When is it coming? ... its coming ...its coming ... as soon as I can convince the dog to unleash my latte and my right hand so I can finish editing.
Posted on: Fri, 15 Nov 2013 20:32:20 +0000
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