Word: birthdaying
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...totally get it. As a kid, my heart pumped in anticipation of a classmate's birthday and the inevitable arrival of that wide, low pink box. I'd pick away at the frosted top, then collect the remaining pure cake in both hands, eating out of my palms like a crazed bird on a sugar high. And when no one was looking, I'd shove the paper in my mouth and chew it like cupcake gum. Even now I like an occasional chai latte--flavored Sprinkles cupcake, just as I appreciate a great burger or mac and cheese. The problem...
...with uncertainties and limitations. Researchers working with EEGs, for example, concede that not all truths read the same way in the brain. A truthful answer about where you were born may produce a quicker--seemingly more honest--signal than an equally truthful one about how you spent your last birthday. Moreover, your brain and someone else's may not answer the same question at the same speed. Each test must thus be painstakingly calibrated for each subject. Not only is that impractical, but it also introduces a whole new level of variability--like trying to diagnose a fever...
...that bright, beautiful morning, Donald Kirby Ross considered himself a lucky man. An orphan raised in foster homes, Ross had found a true home in uniform; his job gave him a mission. He had been dating a college girl, Helen, and falling in love. Tomorrow would be his 31st birthday...
...couldn't get... I was going to say he couldn't get arrested, but that was about all he could get. What he couldn't get was a job. He was a prophet without honor ? and, worse, for a would-be-working comedian, without profit. On his 40th birthday he declared himself bankrupt, and nine months later he was dead. People who may have known only vaguely of Lenny Bruce were treated to the indelible image of a bloated, naked man splayed on the floor with a syringe in his arm. For more than five hours after discovering the body...
...meal together. She will sit down at the dining table with her laptop and webcam, and I will bring my plate to my work desk. Because of the four-hour time difference, I'm usually having a late lunch at her dinnertime. On special occasions - our wedding anniversary, my birthday last month - she will light a candle at her end, and I will play some appropriately mushy music on iTunes. (Hey, war correspondents can be romantic too.) If I try very hard, I can fool myself into believing that I'm not in the most dangerous place on earth...