God bless 'em

If you truly have no idea how devestating Hurricane Katrina was, check this out. It gives you a little different perspective than what you'll get from the national media. A local perspective.

Just to drill it in, nobody is talking about death tolls right now but they are certain to be in the THOUSANDS. Nobody has even begun to consider it because they are still rescuing people, not recovering. It's bad, people. Get Tommy Lee off the fucking television.

I had a dream I was your hero...

Kepple was so right. I was going to participate in this meme I saw over at Ben Kepple's where you go through the top songs of the year you graduated high school and pick out your favorites, etc. The problem is that when I started looking at them, I realized they're all crap. For example, ranking in at Number One, Macarena (Bayside Boys Mix) by Los Del Rio! Augh! And that piece of genius is followed up by Mariah Carey, Kriss Kross, Celine Dion, and several artists I've never heard of (Merril Bainbridge?).

I did find a few I liked...
28. Counting Blue Cars, Dishwalla - A great one-hit-wonder. Moody music.
41. The World I Know, Collective Soul
76. As I Lay Me Down, Sophie B. Hawkins - Okay, not really, but I do love me some 1992 Sophie B.'s "Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover." It gets stuck in my head like no other until I find myself singing it to random men on the street.

Maybe there are a few more but overall I'm disappointed at the poor taste the American public had back in 1996.

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Track of the Day: "I Almost Forgot" by Matthew Sweet. Yeah, I almost forgot how awesome Matthew Sweet was.

Wisdom from Mike

"Katrina's a black girls name! HAHAHA! I guess that lady got her wish. Every Katrina I ever knew was big as hell, so I guess the name fits this hurricane!"

Just thought I'd pass on a little wisdom from my friend Mike (who is black so I guess he can get away with saying something like this).

Thank you, Russell

Yeah, Russell Crowe is crazy and all but sometimes I can't help but love him.

"I do my bit to improve the world but I think it's very important to get things done on the quiet. I'm sick to death of famous people standing up and using their celebrity to promote a cause. If I see a particular need, I do try to help. But there's a lot that can be achieved by putting a cheque in the right place and shutting up about it."

I'm posting!

It's Sunday night and I really wanted to post something all day and I'm finally here sitting in front of my computer and can't think of anything profound to say. My weekend was probably one of the most unproductive I've had in months. It's not that I don't have plenty to do, I just don't feel like doing any of it. So I didn't. And I feel lousy about it. Like I'm just putting it off. It has to be done at some point.

I'm watching Zeke play with his toys. He's a mess about it too. I wish he'd put them back when he's finished chewing on them 'cause I'm tired of them getting stuck under my wheelcair. His favorite toy right now is a life-sized squirrel with a squeeker in it and every time I run over it, it cries out like I'm hurting it.

I watched more movies than I care to admit this weekend, and none are worth mentioning. Earlier this week, I watched Hotel Rwanda which was excellent. If you have not seen it yet, please do so. I highly recommend it because, not only is it well-made, but it's a story that everyone should be familiar with. I was hesitant to watch it because (a) you've got to be in a certain type of mood to watch a movie about mass murder and (b) I wasn't thrilled with the idea of watching it all go down. The blood and guts and all that. But, surprisingly, the movie is PG-13. How a movie about genocide could be PG-13, I don't know. But they kept the gore to a minimum.

I was only a sophomore in high school back in '94 so I didn't remember anything about Rwanda. And even if I knew about it, I was selfish enough to not think more about it than the roadkill I'd pass on the highway. You know, in high school, you pretty much stick to what really matters in life...like who you have a crush on and the height of your bangs. Still, I felt ashamed watching it. But even these days, bad things like this happen all over the world and sometimes we never know about it. Blame who you want. We still have somewhat of an obligation to do something about it.

What about the time before?
Was it ignorance? We said "never again"
I’m a criminal
I turn away when I know what’s going on
My children will ask me, “How did you ignore”
If you really don’t see, then open up your eyes
’Cause its glaring out in front of me
I’ll go by myself
-"Criminal" by Ben Jelen

On that somber note, I'll go to bed. Guess I had something substantial to say. But I can't end the weekend with such overdone seriousness. Driving home from drinks with high school friends tonight, a spider crawled up my arm and I almost drove off the road and crashed! People would've blamed it on the margarita.... HA. It was the spider.

Steph was stuck in New Orleans with Hurricane Katrina bearing down on her! She had to drive to Dallas and take a flight home to Philly. I hope she's safe at her computer reading this today. Nothing exciting ever happens to me.

Hollywoodized

Although it doesn't look like it completely follows the story line of the book, I'm really looking forward to see Memoirs of a Geisha when it comes out. I like Michelle Yeoh and Zhang Ziyi. They were both in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. To see the trailer, click here. (Windows Media - 11MB)

Really annoying things

Acrylic fingernails clicking on a table.

Coworkers who use the microwaveto heat up their 10-minute frozen dinner at the busiest point during the lunch hour.

People who bring their small children to movies.

Paying $50 every time I fill my gas tank.

Art at its finest

I would fly all the way to Copenhagen just to stay at the Hotel Fox. There are 61 rooms within, designed by 21 different artists. Here are my favorites:

"My artistic teen is on acid" room

"I'm in a Chinese opium den" room

"Who let my 8-year-old daughter draw on the walls?" room

"Everything's green" room

"I fear for my life" room

Link via Meg

Weekend review

Yesterday was hot and so nasty so I left early in the morning and went up to Philadelphia to visit Steph and lounge in her pool all day. And that's exactly what I did. I have pictures to prove it.

My younger sisters showed up with their boyfriends and friends when they got up and around (which was like 4 p.m. or something... Slackers). I made Megan carry me around the pool for awhile and then she passed me off to Becky who almost drowned us both. Steph whipped up red and white Sangria, veggie trays, and a chip platter. We ordered pizza. It was a perfect way to spent a hellish hot Sunday afternoon. If only I didn't have to drive 2-1/2 hours back home at the end of it.

I don't mind driving distances. When I was in college in Southern Colorado, the closest Denny's was 2-1/2 hours away as was the closest mall. The airport was 3 hours away. It's not the distance that bugs me, it's the TRAFFIC! The EVIL, EAST-COAST CITY AND BRIDGE TRAFFIC! The horror of it.

I left Steph and Vince's at 8 p.m. with half a tank of gas. It should have been enough to get me home. However, over time I've learned that the needle seems to drop unusually fast from that Half a Tank mark to E. And that's exactly what happened on my way home yesterday.

You see, filling up my gas tank presents a problem for me. Sure, I can drive a hand-controlled van. No problem. But it's the seemingly simple things like getting gas that really slow me down. Usually, I time it well. When I'm out with family or friends, I'll have them pump gas for me. Many gas stations have handicapped signs in their windows and will (at least in theory) send an attendant out to pump gas for disabled drivers. (I've never seen that actually happen.) And the entire state of New Jersey has only Full Service stations. But when I was alone on a sparsely-travelled road on the Eastern Shore with my gas light on, none of the proceeding options seemed at all feasable.

I was kicking myself for poor planning and scanning the corn fields and one-lane roads for the bright lights of a gas station, but all I saw was a Maryland Visitor's Center. It was closed but I pulled in the parking lot in front of two vehicles with their headlights on. "Where's the closest gas station?" I yelled. Out of this great big redneck truck with no muffler jumped a short, motherly woman who tried to give me directions to some backwoods town. She offered to let me follow her to the station and I gladly accepted. And then I choked down all of my pride and asked her to pump gas for me. Do you know what that's like?! Although it devastates me, I'm getting really good at swallowing my pride. In fact, I really shouldn't have any pride left to swallow. My life is a constant lesson in humility.

She was really sweet about it and didn't even accept the money I tried to throw at her in gratitude. I am so thankful that there are good people out there. I can't tell you how many times my faith in humanity has been restored. I was even more grateful for my full gas tank when I hit four miles of Cheasapeake Bay Bridge traffic at 10 p.m. and was stopping and going for an hour and a half. I would have gotten my head bashed in by angry beach-goers if I ran out of gas on the bridge.

I'm tired and cranky and have a headache. Every muscle in my body aches. I have a long, boring meeting slated for later tonight. Ehh. I didn't feel like posting today, but I'm feeling the pressure since Steph and Megan both told me they check for updates a million times a day. (I'm posting! Okay, I posted!)

Thought of the Day: I need either a breast lift or a new bathing suit.

Track of the Day: "Jolene" by Ray LaMontagne

Clever Site of the Day: Simply Fired

I just wanna bang on me drum all day

Here I thought my little sister Megan went up to Philadelphia to intern at a reputable business. Turns out all they do is hang out in the bathroom picking their noses and making bizarre faces. I guess we can't ALL do work at work. Megan is the one on the left who appears as though she's picking spinach out of her teeth with her tongue.

Zeke and his buddy

Apparently they didn't get the memo

Like I've said before, the county of Maryland I live in has more murders this year than D.C. I really shouldn't find it so amusing that the wife of an ABC Extreme Makeover: Home Edition crew member was beaten with a gun while the TV show was here filming an episode. It's really not funny at all. It's messed up.

The house being renovated is in Capitol Heights. The new house will be "significantly larger and more modern." I'm just hoping they install a really good security system.

Oh, the shame!

I'm about to post some pics of a tall, dark, sweaty man but, before you think I've gotten all Playgirl on you, let me back up a couple days and explain myself...

Because we've got a gorgeous back yard and no really way to appreciate it, my family decided to hire people to build a deck and a shed (to store the massive amounts of crap we acquire but never use). I came home from work on Thursday and discovered that the building projects had begun. Tim, our favorite handyman who remodelled my bathroom was in the driveway doing manly things involving saws and hammers. I said hello and went inside. When I was in the kitchen filling a glass of water from the refrigerator, I saw all sorts of things going on in the backyard. But what mainly caught my eye was a very attractive guy in a red T-shirt. Oh, ...um, he was digging holes, too.

You, like everyone else I've told this to, probably thinks it was distracted lust that caused me to lose my grasp on the glass I was in the midst of filling and dump it ALL over my lap. But, no, I swear it was THE DAY FROM HELL I was already having. So I'm sitting in the kitchen with a drenched lap and the doorbell rings. Of course it does. I'm not sure what happens in your life, but in mine, every time it appears as though I've had a bladder accident, the doorbell rings.

I ignored it. Whoever it is can come back, I thought. So I'm by the garage door attempting to soak up the water from my drenched jeans with a towel, when the garage door flies open and Tim yells "Hey Allison, this guy wants to meet you." Perfect timing. Hi. Oh, by the way, this isn't urine all over me. Turns out it was one of the deck builders who wanted to tell me not to be alarmed if I saw men digging up my backyard.

The next morning, the hot guy was back digging more holes. My friend Beverly and her two children were over, and we all stared at him though the windows. Beverly and I were being discreet about it, but her 7 and 2-year-old girls were pressed up against the glass.
I almost felt bad about him digging holes in my backyard with the heat index reaching the low 100s, until he peeled his shirt off. With the sweat dripping off his nose and the four of us watching it fall, the sole thought in my mind was "I've got to share this with my good friend, the Internet. Camera. Where is my camera?"

I demanded that the kids get off the glass and made a very embarrassed Beverly stand in front of me so I could take them as covertly as possible, but he may have known what I was up to. He probably didn't know I would post them! Perhaps I am a terrible person snapping photos of a half-nekkid man and posting them online without his permission. It's a dirty thing to do, isn't it? My only comfort is in their blurriness and the inability to truly identify the Hottie Digger.

The cat's outta the bag

Do you ever wonder if it's really smart for the media to be reporting on certain stories? This morning, NBC had an 'alarming' story on Google Maps (which I adore) and their satellite images. When I realized they offered a bird's-eye view of different locations, the first thing I did was type my address in. The second thing was typing in the person I'm stalking's address. (Haha. Just playin'. I don't know his address.) It's a clever little feature though.

But the 'alarming' part of Google Maps is that it puts military operations and bases at risk. Osama can type in an address and get an overhead view of covert operations. The anchorman went on to report that, although these satellite pictures are over a year old, many of the U.S. bases are in the same areas. Well, thank you, NBC, for broadcasting that special bit of info to the masses! That thought hadn't even crossed my mind before I heard the news program, however I really don't have much interest in suicide bombing anybody as of yet.

But the best part of the news story was the closing remarks: "Analysts aren't sure whether these satellite maps have been accessed by terror groups, but they are certain it's only a matter of time..." Yeah. The secret's out now. They'll be playing this story on the Al Qaeda network next, but at least NBC can claim they broke it first.

I told a friend I was going to post this and she said, "Won't you be doing the same thing? Alerting the masses?" Well, my readers -- all five of you -- don't really qualify as a mass. And I'm assuming none of my regulars are members of a terror cell (with the possible exception of Lurker Jen's husband or the man who calls himself Osbasso.) Disclaimer: If you are inclined to use violence, please refrain from using Google Maps as a guide in your sick plan.

Crazy days

This week is going to be crazy for me so I'm probably going to take a few days off from posting. If I do post, it'll be over at radhole because Russ is visiting relatives in Siberia.

Kim's site is down (or frozen in time) because she writes so much it took up all her server space. And there are other problems. It looks like I'll have to reconfigure the whole thing for her. Sad, 'cause I know she's got tons to write about. It's on my list of things to do, but unfortunately, it ranks as Low-Priority. Right after designing a fake site for an interview, building another site for someone who's actually willing to pay me, building a site for my father, finding a groomer for my dog, losing 40 pounds, and saving the world from the terrorists. Kim will thank me when the Terror Alert Level is ranked Low.

Want something mind-numbing, yet entertaining to do? Try the latest version of Grow. I actually mastered it last week when I had less to do. Tell me what a dork I am.

Glad that's out of the way

I just came back from the job interview I wrote about last week. Yay. I got in the building. Who really cares if it was through the garage bays they had on the side of the building. Oh, and there was no air conditioning in the back offices. But the interview went...well, I guess. Hard to say. They really didn't have too many questions and, like normal, I made a fool of myself. When I get nervous, I have a tendency to babble continuously. We'll see what happens.

Kim's wedding reception

Wisdom from Kim: Always wear the most revealing shirt you own to a wedding. More to come...

The human side

Everybody has secrets they cannot possibly bear to share with the people who know them. One of my best friends hounds me continually to tell him my most embarrassing moment. We'll be in the middle of a random conversation and he'll slip in "So what really happened? What about that embarrassing moment?" But I burn with shame whenever I think about it. I WILL NEVER COME OFF IT. It will kill me to have my friends or family know.

I once told an ex-boyfriend something I'd never told anyone else because I knew that, while he would think I was a freak, he'd think it in a cool way. Not like my other friends who would've just thought I was messed up. It felt really good to tell him.

That why I think the idea for this site is brilliant. Get that secret off your chest! And do it anonymously! All you have to do it create your own 4 x 6 postcard and write your secret on it. It can be anything as long as you haven't shared it with anyone. Then mail it anonymously. Your secret is out.

As I was scrolling down through all the post cards on the website, some of them made me laugh and others were heart-breaking. Here is one of my favorites:

Mail your secrets to:
PostSecret
13345 Copper Ridge Rd
Germantown, Maryland
USA 20874-3454

Job woes

I've been very fortunate to still have a job after the recent layoffs at my company. I still continue to look for other opportunities in the area though. This weekend, I sent my resume to a local company who has an opening for a web/graphic designer and heard back from the POC the very next day. That's amazing especially considering that I've applied for tons of jobs without hearing anything at all from most.

The hiring lady called me on Tuesday and, on Wednesday, she asked me to come in for an interview. That's when I sprung it on her by email. "Um, by the way, I'm in a wheelchair. Is the building accessible?" I waited around a little for a reply, but didn't get one until last night.

"I'm still trying to figure out if we're accessible," she wrote. If someone has to "try to figure out" accessibility, then that probably means they're not. She went on to explain that there was a hanicapped parking spot in front of the building but there were stairs at the entrance. And then she mentioned something about the loading dock. "But as of now, we're still on for an interview Monday at 3 pm."

So I have a predicament. As much as I'd like the opportunity to interview for this job, I'm not sure that I see the point. I think I'd be great at the job. But I kind of feel like I'm at a disadvantage from the start. Let's say I somehow get in the building on Monday and the interview goes well. If I get the job, how much effort will it take to go to work everyday? Should they renovate the entrances? I say yes, but that will take a lot of money. What incentive do they have to hire me over another qualified applicant?

And let's say the interview doesn't go well. I don't want to put them in the position of feeling like I'll cry DISCRIMINATION if they'd rather hire a more qualified person. I want to be judged on my work. It's just a bad situation all around. I don't know what to do at this point. I could gracefully bow out of the running and express my severe disappoinment with their accessibility. Or I could go on Monday and have the interview in the parking lot. :)

I hate that I have to deal with situations like this. Hate it.

Movie Review: Must Love Dogs

I went to see Must Love Dogs on Friday night. It wasn't terrible. It was another Divorced Diane Lane movie where her family and gay friends attempt to make her happy by marrying her off. Shades of Under the Tuscan Sun. There were some very funny parts though and I liked the closeness of her family. The real appeal to me was John Cusack. I think he's fantastic. Although I've really only seen him play one type of character, I like that character. You know, the neurotic, witty, stuttering but charming type. My favorite John Cusack movie is Grosse Point Blank.

If you're looking for a romantic comedy that's light and ends well and is slightly cheesy in parts, this movie is for you.