Here she is...

A couple of summers ago, Husband and I met up for lunch in Farmington Hills, where he works as a not-so-nerdy engineer. I was driving him back to the office and was stopped at a traffic light when I glanced in my rear view mirror. There was a young bleach-blonde girl in a purple PT Cruiser looking in her rear view mirror, applying make-up. I rolled my eyes at her obsession with her appearance, and thought about the media's influence on young women, self-objectification, and all sorts of other smart, scholarly things that constantly fill my incredible machine-like brain. The light turned green and the car jerked forward suddenly. Husband looked at me, assuming that I stalled the car. I, on the other hand, knew immediately that the make-up maven had rear-ended us. I pointed to the right, indicating that she follow us to the side of the road. "She hit us!" I growled to Husband. I pulled over, got out of the car, and watched the bleach-haired bobble head walk toward me, her hands covering her lipstick laden mouth. "I'm sooo s-s-s-sorry," she stammered, her hands visibly shaking. "You really need to watch where the hell you are going, instead of putting on make-up!" I stated, furious. Husband surveyed the car and, noting no damage, told me to calm down. Oh, I was perfectly calm. Calm and very angry. "Give me your name and insurance information," I ordered the girl, who looked all of seventeen. She opened her purse and dug around in her wallet, clearly terrified. "Here," she squeaked, holding a card in her hand. I looked down at her Blue Cross Blue Shield card. "No! Your car insurance!" I yelled, stunned at her stupidity. She walked to her car and after a minute or so returned with the correct insurance card. I wrote down her name and insurance information, wagged my finger at her one last time, and got back in the car to take Husband back to work.

Fast forward to last summer. I was in Farmington Hills at Jungle Java, waiting for my friend to round up her kids so we could leave. I was standing by the door, Lily in my arms, when I looked down at a newspaper stand. I couldn't believe it. The bleach-blonde bobble head was smiling up at me, her picture plastered under the headline 'Miss Michigan Crowned...blah blah blah'. Yep, we got rear-ended by Miss Michigan.

Fast forward to this past winter. I was flipping through The Guide when I saw a very intriguing listing--Miss America:Reality Check. Hmmmm, I thought. I wonder if the bobble-head will be on tv. Yep. There she was, coiffed hair, blue swimsuit, Michigan sash, fake eyelashes and all. The premise of Miss America:Reality Check was that Miss America needed a make-over. Here's the description from TLC...

For the first time in history, all 52 women competing for the Miss America 2008 title, live under one roof to undo everything they have learned about pageant basics. The goal is to determine if their smarts, attitudes and looks hold up in contemporary society. The women participate in an intense set of events and challenges designed to prepare them for the finale: a renewed, modern competition that will redefine what it takes to be Miss America.

Yeah, so Miss America was going to be smart, talented, modern and non-plastic looking, I thought. Awesome! Certainly the girl who thought her medical insurance card would be helpful to me after she rear-ended us due to her obsession with her lacquered face couldn't possibly be a contender in such a competition. So I proceeded to watch Miss America:Reality Check (admittedly, this was not difficult, given my fascination with train-wreckish reality tv shows). She wasn't on the reality show much. Apparently she wasn't too interesting to the editors who instead focused on the homely, outspoken girl from Alaska or the brave girl from some southern state who refused to style her hair without her "ratting comb". After the reality show was over, the Miss America pageant aired live. I watched in horror as Miss Michigan survived cut after cut. I cringed while I listened to her sing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" in the talent competition and was certain that she had blown it and was about to be axed. I heard her profound answer to her interview question how "respect keeps marriages together" and thought she was looking at a fourth runner up spot at best. Nope. As last year's winner placed the crown on her (bobble) head, I realized that not only were we rear-ended by Miss America, but that we live in a world where women's obsession with looks trumps their intelligence, and plastic-faced, fake eyelashed idiots win every time. As a parent of a little girl who will grow to be a woman before I know it, I can only hope that I can help her build a coat of armor that will prevent her from being permeated by the media's idea of an "ideal" woman, and that she will grow up strong, confident, and smart enough to know that if she rear-ends someone it will be because she was distracted by a super interesting story on NPR, and she'll need her car insurance card, not Blue Cross Blue Shield.