Athletes don't make good role models?

"Virginia's Marquis Weeks caps off his 100-yard kickoff return for the touchdown. "That was just instinct. Kind of like running from the cops," said the senior tailback." - http://www.washingtonpost.com/ac2/wp-dyn/admin/article/largerphoto?showSky=true&imgId=I15398-2004Sep12&nav=hcmodule

Ashlee's B-day

It was Ashlee's birthday yesterday. We played. We laughed. She opened presents. We dined and kissed and laughed again. We had a gay old time. She also cried. Kinda of wierd, you might think; crying on your birthday. But actually I think it's quite common. They've got a song about it don't they!? Some girl whining that's it's her birthday and she'll cry if she wants to, cry if she wants to, CRYIEEEEIII if she wants to (try getting that out of your head today). Besides, it just proves my theory... on birthdays that is.

See, what they don't understand about birthdays and what they never tell you is that when you're eleven, you're also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and three, and two, and one. And when you wake up on your twenty-fourth birthday you expect to feel twenty-four but you don't. You open your eyes and everything's just like yesterday, only it's today. And you don't feel twenty-four at all. You feel like you're still twenty-three, and twenty-two, and twenty-one, and twenty and so on and so on. And you are - underneath the year that makes you twenty-four anyway.

Some days for instance, you might say something bratty and that's the part of you that's still thirteen. Or maybe some days you might just ride your bike all day in the mud and get nothing done and that's the part of you thats six. Sometimes you need to call your mom and dad because you're scared and don't know what to do and that's the part of you that's eight. Other days you will wake up next to your spouse and hear your baby playing in the crib and you feel like you're thirty. But there are always those days when even after you are all grown up and really are thirty, you will still need to cry and you feel like you're three. That's what I tell people when they're sad and need to cry... maybe you're feeling three.

Spencer shud half gon to Caimbrij.

Spencer just sent me an email telling me to back off. Spencer is the friend who I began collecting typos from over the past few weeks and I've periodically sent them back to him in a growing list that looks like this;

taht, adn, yo(u), teh, refreain, adn, mihgt, Adn, teh, yuu, teh, Orgegon, crunced, andI, teh, teh, cleverer... and so on.

Now he's arguing that the Cambridge University study justifies, even endorses, his mispelling and honestly, that cheers me up. See, Spencer's emails, comments and posts have improved so much that lately I haven't had the fun/challenge of finding each typo and sending it back to him. In fact, his spelling has improved so much that my guess is 1) he's finally taken the blindfold off while typing, 2) my taunting was just unbearable, or 3) he finally got all the keys arranged correctly after knocking his keyboard off the desk last month. Either way, congrats Spencer on typing at a 4th grade level!

olny srmat poelpe can raed tihs?

Ddni't tinhk taht you cloud aulactly uesdnatnrd waht you aer rdanieg did you? Phaononmneal pwoer of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to rscheearch at Cmabdirge Uivervtisy, it denos't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny ipromoatnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. the rset can be a taotl mses and yuor mnid can slitl raed it wouthit a porbelm. Pettry amzanig, huh? And I awlyas tguhot slpeling was ipmorantt.

salutations...

This is a test to see if my blog works. Or rather a test to see if I know how to work a blog. I've been harrassed and mocked, even tortured, by friends and foes alike because I don't blog so here I am, blogging. A blogger. I've blogged. Happy?