Nothing

1. Defines stupefying like learning that the priest that taught me in high school, gave me a job when I returned from graduate school burned out and unemployed, and officiated at my wedding ceremony, has run off with the church secretary.

Learning that he may have been the catalyst for the secretary's divorce, finalized a mere six weeks before the two ran off together, is equally stupefying.

2. Defines momentarily terrifying like watching a tire, still attached to the rim, fall from the expressway above, bounce all over the road, somehow miss multiple vehicles (including mine, which I paid off last month) nearly run over a pedestrian on the sidewalk and roll down the street.

3. Nothing defines annoying as much as listening to the woman two seats away alternately tsk, sigh and comment (loud enough to be distracting, quiet enough that I could not eavesdrop) her way through the movie J and I were trying to watch this afternoon, at the Regent Square Theater. Running into her in the bathroom afterwards was also annoying, as I was still in the mood to give her a hard time.