Fashion plate

Internet, you are the greatest. I am so pleased with the haikus I've received! Keep 'em coming.

In other news, I got my hair cut yesterday. No fancy salons for me... I went to The Hair Cuttery. But there were so many people in there, I could hardly get in the door. Who goes to get their hair done on a Thursday evening?! So I put my name on the list and went shopping for about 20 minutes. When it was my turn, an Oriental lady turned and waved me over. Unfortunately, she spoke little English:

Hairdresser: Ehhh... Hair?
Allison: Yes, haircut.
Hairdresser: Cut?
Allison: Yes, Cut.
Hairdresser: Cut hair?
Allison: Yes.
Hairdresser: Cut. K.

At this point, I was getting scared. But not as scared as I was when I realized she was new to the trade. I escaped 30 minutes later with shoulder-length, lop-sided hair. Hey, but at least there are no split ends. And lop-sided hair is fashionable these days, right? Maybe I could start a trend...

Hurry while supplies last

I've been attempting to clean up my music collection lately. In the past, I've always lived by the Two Hit CD Rule: Thou shalt not purchase any CD that does not have at least two very good songs on it. Inevitably, now I've got all these "two-hit-wonders." (i.e. Spacehog, The Verve Pipe) So last night, I uploaded a bunch of songs to my computer and will be getting rid of the albums.

Now the time has come to create another AllieMix. Every so often, I take my recent purchases and mix a CD so wonderful and powerful that I cannot keep it to myself. I have a distribution list. So, Internet, I have a special offer for you today. If you email me a haiku* specifically about (1) me or my website or (2) you or your website (and your mailing address), I will graciously burn you a copy of my latest mix AND include a crap CD I'm trying to get rid of! All at NO cost to you, the reader! Act quickly as crap CDs are limited.

Disclaimer: I will take no responsibility for the physical quality of the CD upon arrival or the lack of good taste I have in music. Your haiku must be original. Unworthy haikus will be conveniently 'accidently' deleted from my inbox and your address and personal info will be sold to marketing companies everywhere.

----------------
* A Haiku is a three line poem that contains 5 syllables in the first line, 7 syllables in the second, and 3 to 5 syllables in the last line. Most Haikus house deep, thought- provoking emotions or wise observations about life. But that doesn't mean you can't write about your coffeepot.

My morbid example:

Smiling as we mourn
She knows secrets we do not
As death becomes her

This land is your land...

Oh, this is funny. Very funny! I have to keep watching it over and over! (via Dan)

Wear your politics

Looking for a way to get your point across without saying a word? Check out these political t-shirts.

Speaking of t-shirts, Planned Parenthood has been so kind as to grace us with a brand new one. Make a statement with their new "I Had an Abortion" tee! The shirt that says "I had a living being in me, but I chose to 'make it disappear' so I wouldn't have to accept responsibility." That's right. No more hiding it away with the rest of the skeletons in your closet. Say it loud... Say it proud. Let all those around you know about your brilliant "family planning" methods.

Changing culture

"[I]t's our culture — not the political process — that has to change. Mastering the political process, instead of the culture that political process reflects, is about as effective as training a dog's tail. When you train the dog well, the tail tends to follow.

"Because the political process is so visible and dramatic, we tend to get swept away with a sense that politics controls culture. But it's the other way around. ...

"If politics seems rotten, it's because the culture that supports the political system is rotten itself. It's the people who have lost all sense of supernatural standards, of transcendent values, and of lasting commitments. Politicians, eager to reflect the people, end up just as empty. ... "

— Joel Belz, writing on "Breaking the (election) cycle," in the Aug. 1 issue of World

Movie Review: The Bourne Supremecy

A group of friends and I rented The Bourne Identity on Friday night and, against every fiber of my being, went to a Saturday afternoon showing of The Bourne Supremecy. (I saw Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights too, but I'll pretend I didn't just throw that out there.) Not that I have anything against the new movie itself, I just generally make it a habit to never see movies at my local theater on a weekend. It's too crowded. (Yes, I realize I totally just sounded like a cranky, 80-year-old woman. I actually am a cranky old woman trapped in a 26-year-old body. It's not funny at all.)

We all drove separately which was idiocy in action. The theater parking lot, which is enormous, was completely packed including all restaurant spaces. I parked illegally on a curb by the dumpsters. Kim drove around for 10 minutes and finally parked in a drainage ditch. Actually, that's a lie. I'm not sure she ever parked.

The movie was good because Matt Damon is hot... and for other reasons too. I was really disappointed with a particular event early on, however it was probably necessary for the plot, etc. Overall, I really enjoyed it even though the main female character Pamela Landy's lipstick drove me crazy. I thought the first movie was more satisfying than the second. I'd like Hollywood to entertain the notion of a third movie. My favorite part was near the end when some guy came in the theater with popcorn and a drink and sat next to Kim, and then started up a conversation with someone on the other end of his cellphone! What's wrong with people?!

Free speech?

Let's discuss this principle of free speech for a moment (and my apologies if I'm a little late to be jumping on this bandwagon). I am sick and tired of celebrities and pundits complaining that their right to free speech has been violated after they've said something inflammatory or political. Please. Did the police bang on your door at 2 a.m. to arrest you? The government can't punish you for your speech, but that doesn't mean the rest of us can't beat you down (uh, verbally) for saying something stupid. Assuming that the rights of a performer are any greater that the rights of a ticket-paying audience member is pretty ridiculous. Speech as well as actions has consequences that cannot be pawned off as a violation of the First Amendment. Those who disagree with controversial speech and practices have all the right to say something about it. Just ask the NAACP.

Speaking of controversial statements...
Linda Ronstadt said, "It's a real conflict for me when I go to a concert and find out somebody in the audience is a Republican or fundamental Christian. It can cloud my enjoyment." Well. I hate to be the clouder of anyone's enjoyment. Fortunately for her, I wasn't planning on attending any of her concerts. Even if I was, I probably would have forgotten my big 'Jesus Saves/Kerry is the Anti-Christ' sign. But really, somehow this statement seems much more acceptable than saying, "It's a real conflict for me when I go to a concert and find out somebody in the audience is a Muslim or homosexual. It can cloud my enjoyment." In fact, she would have been skinned alive by the media had she attacked any protected minority group. And that would have been labeled hate speech.

Interesting, anyway.
(quote via worldnetdaily.com)

Happy Democratic Convention Week!

Speaking of politics, there is an informative history on the two major parties in the Washington Post Magazine. The subject of politics takes a lot out of me, folks. Politics and Religion. Two subjects that people are too passionate about. I try to address these two topics very diplomatically (which takes literally hours and massive amounts of self-control), but I've found there are times when it's best to keep my mouth shut. I seriously get the urge to take a baseball bat to a few knees. If you happen to be in the Baltimore-Washington area and hear a loud BANG, it is most likely my head exploding into a billion pieces from overload and frustration. Feel free to take bone fragments home as a souvenir.

Guinness Stout Ice Cream

The following recipe is dedicated to RAD and every other filthy, dark-disgusting-nasty-beerlover out there.

1 cup water

2 tablespoons cornstarch

1/2 cup sweetened condensed milk

1 1/2 cups evaporated milk

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 cup Guinness stout

In a heavy saucepan whisk together the water and the cornstarch and simmer the mixture over moderate heat, whisking, for 2 minutes. Add the milks, the salt, and the sugar, heat the mixture over moderately low heat, whisking, for 1 to 2 minutes, or until the sugar is dissolved, and remove the pan from the heat. Let the mixture cool completely, stir in the Guinness, and freeze the mixture in an ice-cream freezer according to the manufacturer's instructions.

Makes about 1 quart

Candidate for the Darwin Award

I am thoroughly disgusted by Amy Richard's article "When One is Enough" in this weekend's New York Times Magazine. It's all about "selective reduction" which could really be anything until you apply it to pregnancy... Then it's just a fancy word for abortion.

The article describes her (and her boyfriend's) reaction to learning she was pregnant with triplets:

My immediate response was, I cannot have triplets. I was not married; I lived in a five-story walk-up in the East Village; I worked freelance; and I would have to go on bed rest in March. I lecture at colleges, and my biggest months are March and April. I would have to give up my main income for the rest of the year. There was a part of me that was sure I could work around that. But it was a matter of, Do I want to?

The answer was, of course, no. She wanted one, not three. So she asked the doctor what choices were available.

He told me that he does a detailed sonogram before doing a selective reduction to see if one fetus appears to be struggling. The procedure involves a shot of potassium chloride to the heart of the fetus. There are a lot more complications when a woman carries multiples. And so, from the doctor's perspective, it's a matter of trying to save the woman this trauma.

How noble. Richards learned that there was a set of twins and a "stand-alone" who was a few minutes older. So after careful consideration, she decided to keep the stand-alone and make the twins "disappear."

So, let's review. She quits taking the pill because it was making her cranky. She decides if she happens to get pregnant, she'll keep it. She gets pregnant with triplets. She only wants one because three would ruin her life by making her think of someone other than herself AND, worst of all, she'll have to start shopping at Costco for large jars of mayonnaise! So... She looks for the strugglers and decides to kill off her twins. She has the baby and now she can buy mayo from 7-11.

This woman comes in a close second, but she's not nearly as scary as the procedure for deciding which baby should selectively be reduced. Look for the struggling fetus, women are told. Which will be more valuable to society?

At the very least, I'm glad this woman isn't hiding behind the health excuse. We constantly hear about how rare selective abortions are. Nope, this was a choice made out of convenience and a rightful disdain of Costco.

I'm typogenerating!

Aaaaagh! I'm having way too much fun with this typoGenerator. I can't tear myself away! I've been making art for everyone! (Don't be shocked if you get a cryptic email from me.)

what is typogenerator?
typoGenerator is a random generator for 'typoPosters'. a typoPoster is a poster, created from images and letters/text that doesn´t have any sense, just to look good.

how does typogenerator work?
the user types some text; typoGenerator searches images.google for the text and creates a background from the found images, using randomly chosen effects. then it places the text, using random effects too.

(link via J-Walk Blog)

FYI

I yawned twice this morning and each time my gum fell out of my mouth. And each time, I glanced around, picked it up and put it back in my mouth. The ten-second rule applies to gum too.

'Vote or Die'

So it looks like Sean "P. Diddy" Combs is attempting to make voting the new, hot, sexy thing with his new campaign, Citizen Change. Using his vast resources, he's assembled a team of mainly Democratic strategists, but is urging Republicans to join the team.

These days both parties are pushing voter registration. Bush won by such a narrow margin in 2000 that both sides are gung-ho over recruitment. I suppose I should find Mr. Diddy's efforts honorable. After all, minorities traditionally vote much less, although they typically vote liberally.

Kim and I recently had an email conversation about Conservative Christians and the lack of knowledge about the issues they're often voting on. Christian talk-show hosts will urge Christian to call their Senator to vote for or against certain issues, but how many people are actually knowledgable about the issue they're calling about? Certainly a percentage likely know very little. This same situation can easily be applied to P. Diddy's target audience. Young people hear "Rock the Vote" and see their favorite actors protesting against Bush and listen to popular musicians play at Kerry's fundraisers. What percentage of his target audience will take the time to learn about the issues? Will they vote the way they're told?

There is a lack of knowledge all across the board. The point is that all people need to think for themselves and figure out why they're voting the way they are. By all means, vote! But be able to back your vote up with something other that "Ben Affleck voted for Kerry too." Sheeesh. Isn't that right there reason enough to look into some other candidates?

In one of his columns, Jay Nordlinger of National Review printed a letter he recieved from a reader. It referred to a young, high-school aged goth girl with tattoos and piercings. "My father is a hard-core Democrat," she said. "But I would vote Republican because I don't believe in killing babies." Well, I don't want to start in on abortion, however I was tickled to know she wasn't just inheriting her political stance from her parents. I certainly think parents have a huge influence on their children's way of thinking. But by voting age, we should be able to think for ourselves.

By the way, I think P. Diddy's new, hot, sexy t-shirt saying "Vote or Die" is about the dumbest slogan ever. I expected more from such a fashionable man.

WWII

Growing up in the D.C. area, I've seen my share of national monuments and museums. Every class field trip would involve some trek into the city and I remember being so sick of another visit to the Natural History Museum. And now I live within easy distance, but I rarely travel into the city for anything. Residents of Maryland, Virginia, and the District easily take for granted the history and detail we have within our reach. I was reminded of this on Friday when I drove into D.C. to see the World War II Memorial.

Just last week, I was telling Becky how I wish I could see and travel to some of the places I had gone when I was younger because I think I'm finally at an age where I'd appreciate them. I've visited the Vietnam Memorial several times and have always been awestruck at the amount of names lining the black wall. But what moved me even more was witnessing the people who lost friends and sons holding sheets up paper up to the wall to get a rubbing of the name. It was the same on Friday. 4,000 stars line one part of the memorial, each star representing 100,000 people who died. But what left more of an impression was seeing the 70 and 80-year-old men and women who made the effort, despite terrible traffic and parking, to come see what was built to honor their generation.

Everytime I saw someone who looked remotely like a veteran or a widow, I fought back tears as well as the overwhelming urge to profusely thank them for their service. I'm way too sentimental. One sight nearly did me in. I turned around to see a group of adults gathered around an elderly woman in a wheelchair who was dressed elegantly. She had a pin on her dress and was obviously pleased to be there in the company of what I assume were her children. I'm not sure how far she came to be there or if she was a WWII widow or simply a civilian, but her face was full of emotion and I couldn't help but stare at her.

As I was leaving, I saw an elderly man in a red blazer and a veteran's cap and instantly thought of my grandfather who flew B-25 bombers over the South Pacific. He donated money so the memorial could be built but died the year of my car accident. Grandad never talked about what he'd seen or done. That's just the way it was back then. But a few years before his death, he pulled out his old scrap book and flipped through it with us grandchildren. I will always remember that. As with great museums and historical artifacts, I wish I had more time with my grandfather now that I'm older. I'm sure I'd appreciate him a lot more.

If you get an opportunity, I'd recommend visiting the WWII Memorial. It's sure a lot better in person than my slideshow!

Weekend update

1. I'm freezing. They obviously fixed the air conditioning on my end of the building because I'm wearing my sweater and have my heater blasting. But I'm reminding myself that this is better than the sauna my office was on Thursday.

2. I took Friday off to hang out with my aunt and uncle who came down from New York for the weekend. My aunt is probably the coolest person ever because, every time she visits, we go to Starbucks sometimes twice a day. She brings down her famous brisket, her rum cake, and/or a large selection of wine. She even brought down a bottle of caramel liquor for me.

On Friday, I agreed to drive my mom, dad, aunt, and uncle down to the new World War II Memorial on the Mall. Both my aunt and my dad were anxious to see it because my grandfather, who had donated money toward the creation of the memorial, flew B-25s over Australia and New Guinea in WWII. I'll post more on visiting the memorial later today.

3. My little sister Becky turned 23 on Sunday. Becky and my aunt actually tie for Coolest Person in the World status. She sent me a great card for my birthday involving dogs and butts. How cool is that?

4. My older sister Steph and her husband Vince are in London for the week for Vince's sister graduation. They've actually posted a little something about their trip so far. They'd be contenders for Coolest People in the World if they posted a little more often.

5. I held my annual Birthday Crabfeast Extravaganza on Sunday evening and, let me tell you, it was the craziest one yet! It actually made me sit back and ponder, "Who are these freaky people I'm friends with and where did all this tequila come from?" It was out of control. AND I've got pictures to prove it. If we are all lucky, perhaps Kim will post more on this subject. I just don't know if I can do it justice.

I need to re-evaluate my cabinet of friends...

Feeling hot, hot, hot

"Henry, you broke the air conditioner!" I yelled to my coworker over the grey cubicle barrier. For the second day in a row, my wing of the building has been sweltering hot. In fact, it's probably cooler outside. I think I was at lunch when the maintenance guy was passing out electric fans.

Like I've said before, I don't sweat. Seriously. I'm not sure why, but a lot of spinal cord injuries don't have that capability. Normally this is a good thing. My skin is hot but dry to the touch. But since sweat serves to cool our bodies down, I have to make sure my skin doesn't overheat. So I've been over in the other wing of the building (where ice is forming on men's beards) and back again. I normally bring a sweater to work because it usually feels like Siberia.

I'd like to hang out in the middle of the building where it's milder, but I'm no dummy. I took a meteorology class in college. Soon the cold air mass will meet the hot air mass and create a massive front ushering in thunderstorms, lightning, and possible tornados in the building. I'd rather suffer the heat than get my hair wet.

UPDATE - I feel like I've been in a sauna all day! A monsoon sounds REAL good about now.

Big fatty

The reasons I gained 10 pounds yesterday:
1. My friend Bev made me an egg sandwich for breakfast with bacon, a fried egg, Velveeta cheese, and and English muffin.
2. I ate a salad for lunch with fried chicken, cheese, Southwest Ranch dressing, and other good stuff in it.
3. Stinkin' Candace and her oatmeal-chocolate chip cookies!
4. I had the most delicious dinner. Bacon-wrapped filet mignon with Sharaz red wine, fresh corn on the cob, Italian salad, and fruit salad. Ice cream cake for dessert.
5. I HAD to out for drinks. A margarita, tortilla chips, queso dip, and a HUGE brownie with tons of ice cream on top.

(For those of you who think this is nothing, keep in mind I try to aim for under 800 calories daily. Now I can't eat for a week.)

Sexy Little Thug

Go, Allison!
It's my birthday!
We gonna party like it's my birthday!

*Doing my Birthday Dance... (which is very different than my Happy Dance)*

Okay, so I won't be partying in the 50-Cent sense of the word. But I do plan to take the day off to go shopping and spend some SERIOUS money. Zeke the Weenie Dog even sang Happy Birthday to me this morning. Or maybe he was just growling at my mom... It sounded very similar.

Legos

Spiderman in Legos! Very cool.

Bunnies everywhere!

Hey! There are a bunch of Bunny movies! I thought The Shining was the only one.

See:
Alien in 30 seconds, re-enacted by bunnies
The Exorcist in 30 seconds, re-enacted by bunnies
Titanic in 30 seconds, re-enacted by bunnies

...and in court too

Saddam playing Rock, Paper, Scissors?

Monkey wanted

I'm quite certain the janitor at work hates me. She comes to clean long after I've gone, but I never fail to leave some sort of little "present" on the floor for her to pick up. Last week, I accidently flung a sliced strawberry under my desk and then proceeded to squash it into the carpet with my chair wheel. I can still see the stain. It's difficult for me to pick up objects that I drop. (This is exactly why I need a little helper monkey named Igor.) I've dropped pencils, empty water bottles, M&Ms, napkins, and a variety of office supplies.

A few days ago, I brought in a few photos to scan for one of my male friends. My scanner at home is temporarily broken, so I figured I'd just use my work resources. I scanned the first with no problem, but when I was taking the second photo out of the scanner, I dropped it. Ordinarily, I would just ask a coworker to pick it up. But it just happened that the photo I dropped was picture of my friend with his shirt off flexing his gigantic muscles... Not a photo I'd want my coworkers to see. Ooooh, Allison's been scanning photos of muscular black men! Interesting! Not exactly professional, eh?

They say where there is a will, there's a way. Not exactly true in every situation, but here it applies. I closed my office door and got creative. I grabbed my ruler, put one of those black clips on the end of it, rolled a piece of tape up, and stuck it to the clip. I leaned way over and managed to stick the picture to the end of the ruler and pull it up. Oh, I was proud of myself. I'm so cool. I can pick a picture up off the ground! MacGuyver's got NOTHIN' on me.

That's a lot of money

Can the government not find another use for the $90 million it's about to spend on studying the effects of mass media on children?!

Answers

Steph was right about the 3 Lies and a Truth. I figured she'd know right away, but it took her awhile. I never stole a carton of cigarettes. In fact, I've never stolen anything.

a.) I dated a legally blind guy. Blind Greg was what my girlfriends and I referred to him as after we split. I think I was with him only 3 months during my sophomore year of high school. He had the whole long-hair, leather jacket, earring thing going on AND he was an older man -- 18! He wasn't completely blind. He could see things just fine but he had this weird eye condition where bright light hurt and, when he looked at me, it always seemed he was looking at someone behind me. I'm sure those vision problems were really convenient when he was looking down my dress. Pervert.

b.) I stole a carton of cigarettes from 7-11. False. It was Blind Greg who stole the carton. Not me.

c.) I drove through Missouri ("The Show-Me State") without a shirt. Ohhh. This is a long story involving college friends, a road trip to Chicago, two guys named Mensick and Pugsley, and the girl that I used to be. The abbreviated version is less interesting. Driving from Colorado to Chicago with 3 guys is a long road trip. It is essential to create your own entertainment.

d.) I lived in an underground house. When I was just 5, my parents bought an acre of land on Spring Creek Road in a tiny suburb of Denver called Parker. They built an underground house, a house that is built into the side of a hill. The face of the house looked out toward Pikes Peak. Earth covered the rest of the house. These types of houses are built to be enery efficient using solar power. They are warm in the winter and cool in the summer. I think it broke my parents heart to move away. I wish I had a photo of it. If you're really interested in what they look like, check out this website for a few pics.

On bankruptcy

There is an interesting article on MSN this morning about how bankruptcy has lost it's stigma. In fact, more Americans filed for bankruptcy last year than in the entire decade of the 60s.

As bankruptcy expert Elizabeth Warren of Harvard University points out, more Americans will file for bankruptcy this year than for divorce, and more Americans will officially go broke than will have a heart attack, graduate from college or be diagnosed with cancer.

The author chalks this up to a variety of different factors: the easy availability of credit cards, loss of medical insurance, and pressure. Lawyers and lenders actually advise clients to file in many cases. These days, there isn't much incentive NOT to file. In most cases, people who claimed bankruptcy could get loans when those still paying off debts could not. Often, those who file begin getting credit card offers 6 months later.

Alana of Indianapolis filed for bankruptcy six years ago after the birth of a critically ill child and a subsequent divorce left her with substantial medical and legal bills. Both her sisters have since filed, after their husbands lost their jobs. So did Alana’s current husband, who lost his job shortly after a divorce left him with $50,000 in debt.

Most of her friends have also declared bankruptcy, she said. What’s more, everyone --Alana, her husband, her sisters and her friends -- was 25 or under when they filed.

Since her bankruptcy, Alana has bought two houses and a car, which she recently refinanced from the dealer’s 13% rate to 7% with her credit union.

I have a friend who spent the good part of her late teens and early twenties racking up huge debt on her credit cards. She's older and wiser now and trying to take responsibility for her bad choices by paying off the debt. She pays each bill on time now and has been for the past 5 years. She recently tried to refinance her car loan but was told she wasn't eligible for a lower rate. Logically, it makes more sense for her to file for bankruptcy. The only think that stops her is her integrity.

Kinda stupid

Three truths and a lie:

a.) I dated a guy who was legally blind.
b.) I stole a carton of cigarettes from 7-11.
c.) I drove across the state of Missouri without a shirt on.
d.) I lived in an underground house.

I'm the luckiest girl in the world

It's a terrible shame that I'm so excited about filling up my gas tank at $1.95 a gallon. I feel like I won the lottery!

Movie Review: Spellbound

"You watch the most bizarre movies," said my friend as I was beginning to tell her about the latest movie I'd seen. Okay, so I admit -- that's partly true. I like a good story though and good stories are not strictly limited to the Hollywood box office. Some of my very favorite movies are foreign or independent. However, just like at the box office, there are very good films and terrible ones.

The latest movie I rented was the documentary Spellbound, about the 1999 National Spelling Bee. It followed the lives of 8 kids as they prepared for the Nationals, showing their study habits, lives, backgrounds, relationships with parents, and aspirations. Some of the stories are incredibly touching like the story of one girl whose Mexican father crossed the border illegally and knew no English whatsoever. Other characters seemed like normal kids that I knew growing up.

There were several contestants from underprivileged backgrounds or who emmigrated from foreign countries. I was amazed how all these kids from totally different backgrounds all had spelling in common. This was more than just a documentary about the spelling bee. An underlying theme was the opportunity America provides for those who work hard. It's quite touching to see the Mexican farmhand who came to America, not so he could work, but to provide a better education for his children. And an Indian contestant's father makes the statement "In America, you can succeed at anything if you work hard enough." To many people, spelling bees are ridiculous. What's the point of learning words you will never use again? It runs much deeper than that, especially to most of the contestants. It's about discipline and perseverance... Pushing yourself to excel.

I am about to start preaching... Stand back.

This movie made me think harder about the opportunities American kids have. Honestly, kids from India, Japan, China, and many other countries have a better work ethic than Americans. I've noticed that from my own experience and the movie seemed to drive that point home. Too many kids think they deserve success without working toward it. Call me idealistic (again), but to a degree, I think the father's quote above is true on two conditions: (1) The kid has plenty of support (at the very least, emotional) from his family and (2) he has the motivation to succeed. One D.C. girl from the movie had a single mother who butchered the English language ("publicicize"), yet this girl was smart, independent, and well-spoken. She may have had a rough life but she has the emotional support at home to succeed educationally.

I don't think educational success is determined by government initiatives. Education first and foremost is a responsibility of the parents, not the state. Unfortunately, too many kids don't have home lives that make that a possibility and it falls to the state to provide. In that case, it may be harder to achieve, but educational success is still attainable to any student who has the drive and the capabilities. Diligence is far more important than intelligence.

Anyway, it was refreshing to watch a documentary that showed that mental competition can be as rewarding and exciting as scoring a touchdown. That's not exactly popular in today's culture.

(Just for the record, I hate Spelling Bees! Probably because I went to one in 7th grade and missed an incredibly simple word on the first round. Bad memories! I didn't even know what half of the words in this documentary meant. Dictionary.com is my best friend.)

7 more days

My birthday is approaching quickly and I still have yet to renew my driver's license. Maryland has new licenses this year and sent me notice about 2 months ago to renew. I'm a procrastinator! Actually, I hate going to the DMV and dread any errand that puts me within 30 feet of the place.

The DMV is one of those places that has no idea what to do with people in wheelchairs. People stare at me like I have no business being there. Believe me -- the handicapped driving thing was new to me too. I had no idea handicapped people could drive with hand controls before me car accident. In fact, I never thought about handicapped people at all, so I try to give people a break for being thoughtless. But when I had to go take my driving test 4 years ago, the tester was literally scared to get in the van with me. He hestitated, climbed into the van, climbed back out, and then climbed in again. Then there was the lady with the forms:

Lady: Do you have any special requirements or disability that would impair you from driving a vehicle?
Allison: Um... I'm in a wheelchair?
Lady: So you can't move your feet?
Allison: *blank stare*
Lady: You can't push on the gas or break?
Allison: *pushing back thoughts of violence*

Any time I feel the need for a nice dose of humility, I roll on down to the DMV. Let's just hope this year's picture is more flattering.

Dad on pop culture

"Who's this Jessica Simpson? For the longest time, I thought she was just a character from the animated show 'The Simpsons.'"

-- Dad, from a conversation about blonde pop singers.

A total ugh indeed

"That thing was a total ugh."

-- pop singer BRITNEY SPEARS, in a People magazine interview, recalling her short-lived, quickie Las Vegas marriage to a childhood friend.

20 Questions to a Better Personality

Well, I took the quiz but it told me what I already knew:

Wackiness: 36/100
Rationality: 30/100
Constructiveness: 30/100
Leadership: 32/100

You are an SEDF--Sober Emotional Destructive Follower. This makes you an evil genius. You are extremely focused and difficult to distract from your tasks. With luck, you have learned to channel your energies into improving your intellect, rather than destroying the weak and unsuspecting.

Your friends may find you remote and a hard nut to crack. Few of your peers know you very well--even those you have known a long time--because you have expert control of the face you put forth to the world. You prefer to observe, calculate, discern and decide. Your decisions are final, and your desire to be right is impenetrable.

You are not to be messed with. You may explode.

Actually, I'm not sure how accurate this is. How did I score about even in all 4 categories? I don't feel like I'm going to explode.

I smell like dog sh*t

Today is not beginning well. I woke up this morning with a bad pain in my neck right around the site of the fracture (high back - low neck). I must have damaged something yesterday when I was doing neck extensions with my physical therapist. Maybe it's a pinched nerve or something. All I know is that when I sit in certain positions, my neck hurts. And that's not a good sign. The last thing I need is another surgery.

I let Zeke the Weenie Dog inside for a little bonding time, like I do every morning. Forget what I said before about Zeke getting more comfortable. He's regressed, actually. Ever since my parents came back from vacation, he's been a mess. He hid behind the toilet in my bathroom a few days ago and almost had a heart attack when the trash can startled him. When he gets really scared, he loses all bowel control so we walk around on eggshells. He took a dump in my shower when he felt cornered earlier this week. Of course, he felt cornered. HE WAS IN MY SHOWER.

So today he was sitting on my lap when my mom and two small children came in. The next thing I knew, I had dog poop smeared all over my leg. Being the dumb broad that I am, I didn't change my jeans. (Anyone in a wheelchair knows what is required when pulling on a tight pair of jeans and let me emphasize -- It's not exactly quick or easy.) I was running late so instead, I attempted to get it off with a baby wipe. I am a stupid, stupid girl because, as I sit here hours later, I smell like dog poop. No, I smell like a stupid person who tried to use a freakin' baby wipe to remove a lethal amount of dog poop from her jeans.

Futhermore, when I came into work today, I got in the elevator with the manager of the whole program. I looked down and noticed a spot in the folds of my shirt that I had missed. I'm so nasty!