...Our letters sound the same...

Please visit me at http://www.smashleybug.com

2006-10-16T09:57:00.000-05:00

The Blog has moved!!!

I am now over at http://www.smashleybug.com

The website is no where near finished. I'm still working on tons of stuff. I just can't post here any longer. The aggravation is slowly killing me.

So please visit me at http://www.smashleybug.com as this blog will no longer be updated.

Peace out, blogger. On to bigger and better things.

postsecret a la RSM and postsecret.blogspot.com

2006-10-07T15:58:00.000-05:00

I suck.

2006-10-05T13:06:00.000-05:00

Everyone has had "one of those days" before. But this, my friends! This has been one of those weeks.

You know, the not fun kind. The kind where you do not under any circumstances want to get out of bed so you end up rolling your tired self onto the hardwood floor, hoping the freezing cold surface beneath you will force you to stand up and go brush your teeth. That kind of week.

There are two contributing factors to being so tired that I have to let my face hit the floor before my feet.

1 - There is no noise in my new house.
2 - I do not know how to behave like a normal human being.

Allow me to explain.

1 - When I say no noise, I mean no noise. It's always peaceful and quiet which is GREAT. I get so much stuff done! And no one is bugging me!

But, when I say no noise, I mean no noise. I have no speakers for my computer and there is NO TELEVISION IN THE NEW HOUSE. (I knew this prior to moving in, the house rules so much that it's still worth it.)

So the peace and quiet is great, until it's bedtime. I need noise (preferably TV but at the very least, a radio) to fall asleep AND to stay asleep. So even after I bludgeon myself over the head multiple times and finally fall asleep, I wake up every 10 minutes because it is TOO FUCKING QUIET.

2 - I really, really don't know what the shit is wrong with me. It's actually pretty hilarious if I take a step back and look at it.

I keep forgetting to bring my shampoo and conditioner home from my Mom's house (which is bad news because she uses my bath products and she uses them up very quickly) so I've been using travel sizes that I had. I finally ran out so I was supposed to go get some last night, along with milk (to make my chai drink, because I have the concentrate but no milk to mix it with) and perhaps some type of food.

I went to the store and bought hangers, razors, shampoo, and a couple of travel mugs for bringing drinks to work. Did I need hangers, razors, and mugs? Sure. Were they urgent necessities? No, no they were not. Did I need conditioner, milk, and some kinda food? Yes. Did I get them? NO. NO I DID NOT GET THE ONLY FREAKING THINGS I NEEDED FROM THE STORE.

So this morning, after deciding that "Yes, I have to go to work" and "Shit! I have to shower like, now!", I jumped up, ran to the shower, washed my hair with my brand new shampoo and realized... I forgot to buy conditioner.

If any of you were wondering exactly what it feels like to shampoo your hair and not put any conditioner in it, I can tell you. It feels sort of like straw, only straw with knots and split ends. Straw you can't even brush. The kind of straw that is so dry, it bursts into flames after being in direct sunlight for 4.3 seconds.

So I saturated my head post-shower with some leave-in conditioner stuff I had lying around. I was able to brush it, but my hair now looks like I never even washed it. Nice and greasy, only now it smells nice.

I frantically get dressed and realize that I'm actually kind of early. Then I think "Hey! I have chai mix! Awesome! I can bring chai to work!" I open the refrigerator and don't see any milk… because I suck and forgot to buy it. All I see is the chai mix, which is taunting me. It's taunting me because (being useless without the milk) the delicious flavor is so close, yet so unattainable. I can see the creamy goodness, I just can't partake of the creamy goodness. Fuck. No chai for me this morning.

Oh well! I'll just get a breakfast bar... which I also did not buy at the store last night. Double fuck.

And this is all because I go to the store and see shiny things and think "Oh! I need that right now!" when in reality I probably won't take it out of the package ever. Not even once. I ALWAYS make a list when I have to go to the grocery store for this very reason, but this time it felt silly. A list of four things? Shampoo, conditioner, milk, food. Only an asshole would need to make a list of four things. Yeah... that asshole is me. (And really people, who buys shampoo but forgets the conditioner?)

In short, I have forgotten how to act like a grown-up and am now the equivalent of a toddler with her own house and no conditioner.

Hooray for new homes.

2006-10-02T18:24:00.000-05:00

New home pictures!!

This is the front of my new home. It's green.

This is my mailbox.

This is my lightswitch with blinky lights.

This is my fabulous bed.

Three views of my computer desk, complete with lots of pinkness. This is my favorite part of the new room. Hooray!!

This is the view out of the window near my bed. Breathtaking, I know. Take a minute to collect yourselves before moving on.

This is a view of the top of my dresser.

Sewing desk complete with pink sewing machine.

My almost empty closet.

Cool rack thingy on the back of my door.

And finally, The Lady. The Lady has been with me through every house I've lived in, and this is no exception.

Ok, that's all for now. Hope you guys enjoyed your tour. Just, call before you come over next time, ok?

2006-09-29T08:33:00.000-05:00

Ok no seriously people. I don't think you quite understand the urgency that is going on right now.

I'm dying. Like, right now. Dying. Dead-ness.

Hate.

2006-09-29T08:17:00.000-05:00

I am in complete and total hate with Blogger right now.

I need to move my blog somewhere else.

I cannot spend a single dime on it, which means there will be no purchasing of the webspace involved.

Any suggestions? Please? Because I think I might die if I can't blog.

best. mood. ever.

2006-09-28T13:50:00.000-05:00

I am in the best mood ever today.

Moving went so well last night! I only moved 3 pieces of furniture, but it went so smoothly. Plus I had forgotten how much I really WANT to live in this new house until I got there last night.

My two friends Tom and Shawn helped me move the furniture. I made it super easy for them to move the stuff (I took things apart, made sure there was a clear path, etc.) so it only took them maybe 10 minutes to get everything loaded up. We got to the house and they moved everything so carefully and nothing got scratched or broken. Woohoo!! They rule.

I bought them beer for helping me out, so I think they got a pretty good deal out of the whole thing.

I'm going to tell you guys the full Ashley's Moving Out story after I'm completely moved in (which will be this weekend) because I don't want to jinx myself. I'm sort of superstitious like that.

What I WILL do is show you pictures of the new room. It's very bare and empty because I haven't moved anything but a dresser, a desk, and my bed.

This is my bed (red jersey sheets = heaven) and a window with ugly curtains. Thank goodness for my crafty sewing machine skills. The windows will be pretty in no time!

This is a very empty corner of the room. From the photos the room looks kind of tiny, but it's actually really roomy and nice. Especially compared the room I have at my grandparent's house. That room is actually half of a master bedroom with about 3 and a half square feet of walking space. So this new room is a great improvement.

This picture makes the room look teeny. Also, another clear view of the ugly curtains. I think I'm going to paint a mural on my dresser. It looks so plain and icky.

This is one feature to the room that I didn't know existed. It's a rack that shares the same hinges as the door, but it swings independently. This is super awesome because it gives me even MORE space to hang things up. I was going to have to bring another dresser from home, but now I don't think I'll need it.

Really boring picture of a really boring closet. Yeah. Not too much to report there. The closet is actually bigger than I thought before, it continues further to the left. It might not be much, but it's MY closet. So that makes it spectacular.

Best features of the house: The new kitties!!!! Well, new to me. They are Boo and Pudd. This picture is of the Boo kitty. She's crazy. Both cats are some of the friendliest cats I've ever been around. My heart is melting just looking at this picture.

And a goofy picture of me in my car, for good measure. This is a hat that Peter's parents bought me for chaperoning Andrew. It rules and it's warm and I can't wait to be able to wear it. I hate winter, but I <3 hats!

Lands in the middle, but leaning towards "the best"

2006-09-27T13:50:00.000-05:00

About 2.374 seconds ago, I was quietly freaking out.

You see, I'm having a couple of friends help me move furniture to my new house tonight.

I talked to my new landlord/roommate today and he said I had to be there by 6:30pm because he has a date that he has to leave for at 7:00pm.

I usually get out of work at 5:30 and I get home at 6:00. The house is about 15 mins away from my house. So that would give my two friends only 15 minutes to move 3 pieces of furniture and a few other misc. things that have yet to be cleared off or taken apart.

Yeah.

Plus, for the past few days I haven't been able to sit at my normal desk because they painted that area. It made me light headed and head-achey. Because I'm the receptionist, if they move me from that area I pretty much have nothing to do. I'm useless. I can't answer the phones or greet visitors, and there isn't much use for me back in the real office with the real grown-up workers.

So right now, I'm sitting in a cube with a really awesome co-worker on a laptop, and I'm serving no purpose whatsoever. I was quietly freaking out because I was sitting here doing NOTHING while a TON of stuff needed to be finished at home. I didn't want to outright ask to go home because I was sick a few days a couple weeks ago and I hate not working.

So, because my Boss is the best man to ever exist as a boss ever in the universe (he doesn't even know about this blog, so I'm not even sucking up. He's just that cool.) he just called me and told me to leave at 3:00.

Too bad you can't see the huge smile on my face right now. Just sayin'. (credit: RSM)

{{Side Note: You know, my life has been so steady for so long now, and that's never happened before. I find myself saying "This isn't my life." on a regular basis. I'm just so happy that my hard work is paying off, and that I'm starting to attain the things I've wanted for so long. It's a really good feeling when you prepare for the worst, hope for the best, but reality lands somewhere in the middle. I'm just super content with my life right now. A little nervous, but really really happy.}}

If you'd like me to elaborate on anything, feel free to email me.

2006-09-27T10:09:00.000-05:00

Things about me that you may not know:

I am absolutely horrible with stress. The slightest bit of deviation from normal routine sends me into a complete and total tailspin.

Responsibility does the same thing. If anyone is counting on me for even the tiniest little thing, I flip out. (Really people, you should have noticed this yesterday, with the great Expense Report Induced Meltdown 2k6 edition.)

I get sick ALL THE TIME. I'd say I'm healthy for about 10% of the time. The other 90%, I'm ill. I barf A LOT. I'm nauseous every morning when I wake up, and also right before I go to bed at night. Certain smells (chicken soup) make me gag. I'm always tired, generally moody, achey, and I cry a lot. I also lose my voice a lot, and my throat hurts pretty often. I've been like this since I was born.

I am an absolute animal lover. I watch that Animal Cops show way too often. I like to torture myself, apparently.

I'm afraid of dogs. This is a recent development. 2 years ago, I watched my friend Ivette's Chow-Chow rip my friend Rachel's leg apart.

I know a stupid amount about reproductive and sexual health. Got a question? Feel free to email me (PuttanaEva at gmail dot com). It's just something I've always been interested in.

People always try to lie to me to seem smarter than I am. Most of the time they're lying about something I know something about, so I know they're lying. I don't say anything because I feel like maybe they need to feel better than someone. It only bothers me sometimes.

That being said, I have a weird complex that people who went to college feel like they're better than me simply because they went and I didn't. Because of this, I spend most of my free time learning about anything and everything I can. I always ask 3298237423 gazillion questions. I'm sure it gets annoying. If I haven't learned (and retained) 3 or 4 new things every single day, I feel the day wasn't productive.

This is boring, no? If you'd like me to elaborate on anything, feel free to email me.

Other thoughts that are rattling around in there.

2006-09-26T16:11:00.000-05:00

It's freezing in here. The hand I use to move the mouse is freezing cold. The other hand is toasty because I've been sitting on it for the past hour. You know, while I stare at receipts and drool.

It's freezing in here. Oh, I said that already?

I wish there were bagels left from the bagel breakfast this morning but there aren't. There are three tubs of delicious veggie cream cheese left over, but no bagels. I missed the bagel breakfast because of receipts.

I had a dream last night that I went somewhere with Carlton and Tom and Matt Boehm. We were in a bad neighborhood standing outside of some guy's house. Guy was a friend of Carlton's and a friend of Matt's. We were all standing outside when Guy lets his vicious dog out of the house. It proceeds to be a vicious dog and growl at me. Then it bites my arm. I am telling Guy to get his dog off of me. Everyone is standing around looking at me. Guy is laughing at me. I look at Carlton and he shrugs, smiles, and tells me "There's nothin I can do, hun." in that way he does. No one else will look at me. Think it means something?

I have to go to the bathroom.

I really have to go to the bathroom.

I'm going to finish this post, then go to bathroom.

I think I'm finished with this post.

wow.

2006-09-26T16:01:00.000-05:00

I find that when I ask a follow-up question, I prefer the word "yes" to the word "sure" as an answer.

Example 1:

"Can you help me move on Wednesday?"
"Sure."

This exchange is completely fine. It means, yes, I can help you. I'm sure of it!

Example 2:

"Can you still help me move on Wednesday?"
"Sure"

I find this exchange to be slightly unnerving. It makes it sound like this is the first time the person is hearing the question. In this particular situation, the word "sure" seems to say "By sure I mean I have no recollection of what you're talking about, but I'll pretend I do. Then, when you call me 40 times tomorrow to ask where the hell I am, I won't answer. Then later we'll pretend it's your fault."

Do you think maybe I think things over a teeeny eeeny weeeny bit too much?

gaaah

2006-09-26T13:53:00.000-05:00

*slams head on desk repeatedly*

The crinkly paper is driving me to the brink. (How many times can I post about losing the mind I never really had?)

2006-09-26T11:24:00.000-05:00

Dear Anyone Who Can Hear Me, Am drowning in receipts. Crinkled up receipts that don't lay flat and also have wrinkles and make crinkly paper noises when you touch them. My obsession with new, pristine paper is making this intolerable. Is also making this into an all day ordeal because I can't stop smoothing the receipts. Send help immediately. (And I'd also like to remind you that my request for Valium from two days ago was NEVER FULFILLED. Ahem.) No. More. Expense. Reports. Can no longer form coherent sentences. *drool* Go to hell, numbers! Ashley Baker, Slave to Corporate Expenses

2006-09-25T11:09:00.000-05:00

Alright, homies.

I'm having a problem. I'm not positive as to whether or not my laptop is broken or not. It's quite possible it's just the power supply that's effed.

(When plugged in, the power supply has a light that lights up. The light still lights up, however the power supply used to get really warm when plugged in, and now it doesn't get that warm at all. A little, but not nearly like what it used to. So perhaps that's the problem?)

I can rescue everything off of the computer if it IS screwed, however, because I have friends. Good ones. You see, ATO is not only my only consistent commenter, he's also a genius AND an awesome conversationalist. Oh yeah, and he's willing to ghetto rig my computer so I can transfer all of the important data to my working desktop.

Ok, here comes the dilemma part. If the laptop is dead, I want to replace it. I like having a portable computer. PLUS the new house has wireless so it would be nice to be able to use the computer in a place other than my bedroom.

I just need your help because I know absolutely nothing about laptops really, and I have no idea what kind I should get.

I have limited funds to spend right now. I don't, however, want to sacrifice quality and buy a shitty computer because it costs less.

Can anyone out there in Internetlandworld recommend a nice, middle-of-the-road laptop, well-priced laptop? I don't have a price range. I'm just looking for something well-rounded and decent. I'll wait and save up more funds if necessary.

So, people. Nice, middle-of-the-road, nothing special, well-rounded laptop that isn't going to break the bank but isn't going to fall apart tomorrow?

Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

I'm beginning to wonder if I ever had it.

2006-09-24T15:56:00.000-05:00

Dear Readers of This Site, Please send help. Ashley's brain is trying to kill me. Not sure how much longer I am going to last. I can only move so many boxes. I can only drag so many garbage bags to the curb. I can only throw away so many things! It is NOT my fault that you have stock-piled all of this shit over the years. Why, why must you punish me, Ashley's brain?! Desperately Yours, Ashley's Body Dear Ashley's Body, Please stop being a big pussy. Suck it up and get over it. You think moving is easy for me?! The organizing is killing me. I've developed a tic as a result of having to stare at the disarray that moving has created. So really, suck it up. STFU, Ashley's Brain Dear Internet, My brain and my body are at odds. Some of my life is in boxes, some of it is strewn about (WHICH MAKES ME FUCKING CRAZY), and I have no idea where half of this crap came from. Moving sucks. Please send help immediately. Also - Valium and maybe a gun. Kthxbye, Ashley.

Banned Books Week. Sept 23 - 30.

2006-09-22T15:02:00.000-05:00

It amazes me that this is something that still exists today. Shows how far we've come as a society, eh? I'm just going to paste an excerpt from the ALA website, because they explain it much better than I can: "Banned Books Week: Celebrating the Freedom to Read is observed during the last week of September each year. Observed since 1982, the annual event reminds Americans not to take this precious democratic freedom for granted.

Banned Books Week (BBW) celebrates the freedom to choose or the freedom to express one’s opinion even if that opinion might be considered unorthodox or unpopular and stresses the importance of ensuring the availability of those unorthodox or unpopular viewpoints to all who wish to read them. After all, intellectual freedom can exist only where these two essential conditions are met."

"Each year, the American Library Association (ALA) is asked why the week is called “Banned Books Week” instead of “Challenged Books Week,” since the majority of the books featured during the week are not banned, but “merely” challenged. There are two reasons. One, ALA does not “own” the name Banned Books Week, but is just one of several cosponsors of BBW; therefore, ALA cannot change the name without all the cosponsors agreeing to a change. Two, none want to do so, primarily because a challenge is an attempt to ban or restrict materials, based upon the objections of a person or group. A successful challenge would result in materials being banned or restricted.

Although they were the targets of attempted bannings, most of the books featured during BBW were not banned, thanks to the efforts of librarians to maintain them in their collections. (See also Censorship and Challenges and Notable First Amendment Cases.) Imagine how many more books might be challenged—and possibly banned or restricted—if librarians, teachers, and booksellers across the country did not use Banned Books Week each year to teach the importance of our First Amendment rights and the power of literature, and to draw attention to the danger that exists when restraints are imposed on the availability of information in a free society."

The 100 Most Frequently Challenged Books of 1990–2000 (I've bolded the ones I've read): Scary Stories (Series) by Alvin Schwartz Daddy's Roommate by Michael Willhoite I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain (I didn't read the whole thing. Woops!) Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck Harry Potter (Series) by J.K. Rowling Forever by Judy Blume Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson Alice (Series) by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor Heather Has Two Mommies by Leslea Newman My Brother Sam is Dead by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger The Giver by Lois Lowry It's Perfectly Normal by Robie Harris Goosebumps (Series) by R.L. Stine A Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Newton Peck The Color Purple by Alice Walker Sex by Madonna Earth's Children (Series) by Jean M. Auel The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle Go Ask Alice by Anonymous Fallen Angels by Walter Dean Myers In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak The Stupids (Series) by Harry Allard The Witches by Roald Dahl The New Joy of Gay Sex by Charles Silverstein Anastasia Krupnik (Series) by Lois Lowry The Goats by Brock Cole Kaffir Boy by Mark Mathabane Blubber by Judy Blume Killing Mr. Griffin by Lois Duncan Halloween ABC by Eve Merriam We All Fall Down by Robert Cormier Final Exit by Derek Humphry The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison What's Happening to my Body? Book for Girls: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Daughters by Lynda Madaras To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee Beloved by Toni Morrison The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton The Pigman by Paul Zindel Bumps in the Night by Harry Allard Deenie by Judy Blume Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes Annie on my Mind by Nancy Garden The Boy Who Lost His Face by Louis Sachar Cross Your Fingers, Spit in Your Hat by Alvin Schwartz A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein Brave New World by Aldous Huxley Sleeping Beauty Trilogy by A.N. Roquelaure (Anne Rice) Asking About Sex and Growing Up by Joanna Cole Cujo by Stephen King James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl The Anarchist Cookbook by William Powell Boys and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy Ordinary People by Judith Guest American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis What's Happening to my Body? Book for Boys: A Growing-Up Guide for Parents & Sons by Lynda Madaras Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret by Judy Blume Crazy Lady by Jane Conly Athletic Shorts by Chris Crutcher Fade by Robert Cormier Guess What? by Mem Fox The House of Spirits by Isabel Allende The Face on the Milk Carton by Caroline Cooney Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut Lord of the Flies by William Golding Native Son by Richard Wright Women on Top: How Real Life Has Changed Women's Fantasies by Nancy Friday Curses, Hexes and Spells by Daniel Cohen Jack by A.M. Homes Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo A. Anaya Where Did I Come From? by Peter Mayle Carrie by Stephen King Tiger Eyes by Judy Blume On My Honor by Marion Dane Bauer Arizona Kid by Ron Koertge Family Secrets by Norma Klein Mommy Laid An Egg by Babette Cole The Dead Zone by Stephen King The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison Always Running by Luis Rodriguez Private Parts by Howard Stern Where's Waldo? by Martin Hanford Summer of My German Soldier by Bette Greene Little Black Sambo by Helen Bannerman Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett Running Loose by Chris Crutcher Sex Education by Jenny Davis The Drowning of Stephen Jones by Bette Greene Girls and Sex by Wardell Pomeroy How to Eat Fried Worms by Thomas Rockwell View from the Cherry Tree by Willo Davis Roberts The Headless Cupid by Zilpha Keatley Snyder The Terrorist by Caroline Cooney Jump Ship to Freedom by James Lincoln Collier and Christopher Collier I plan on reading every single book on that list. I'm rebellious like that. I hope that everyone at least visits the website. The button above is linked, as well as two images in my sidebar. (Coming soon because Blogger sucks asshole. For now just use the plain old ugly text link. Thanks!) Once you're at the website, be sure to click on the link to the left that says "Book Burning". (I KNOW! That still goes on today, too. Amazing, isn't it?)

This is your brain. And this is your brain on... well, nothing really. Shit just up and broke.

2006-09-21T10:41:00.000-05:00

There are about 70 bo-jillion things going on in my brain today, give or take a couple. It's making me go a little... well... completely fucking batshit insane. I'm starting to feel like the guy who walks around in front of WaWa* wearing an orange traffic safety vest, flicking an imaginary cigarrette and talking to himself about how the government killed God and now we're all just hurtling through the atmosphere with reckless abandon. Only, when he says it, it sounds something like "huminahooyeah GOD *cough*cough*yeah CHAOS huhuh THEGOVERMENT yesyupincoherentmumbles YEAH blahblah WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?!" So yeah. I'm starting to feel like that guy, only minus the orange traffic safety vest. Orange just isn't my color.

I really hate it when this happens because it makes it nearly impossible for me to accomplish anything. Thinking about all of my problems at once makes it difficult to focus on one long enough to find a solution. Finding an immediate solution to my problems is a big deal with me. I can't stand when people let their problems just pile up and they expect them to just vanish without actively trying to solve the problem. And seriously? My biggest pet peeve is when people complain about a problem they haven't even attempted to solve.

So here you go, since I know you're all curious. (Shut up, you are.) A peek into what my brain looks like today:

There were school busses everywhere on my way to work this morning. There weren't school busses before. School started while ago, so why am I just seeing school busses now? They made me late for work this morning with all of their "Wah we're school busses and we pick up little elementary school kids and you have to stop in both directions until the little 6 year old slowly makes their way out of the house, dramatically dragging their backpack on the ground and whining that it's too early, and takes an hour to decide where in the hell he's going to sit because everyone is telling him "this seat is saved." Stupid busses. Then when they're done sitting on the side of the road for 3 hours holding up traffic, they drive like maniacs. Tailgating everyone and taking turns at 50 miles an hour, not stopping their vehicle until it is literally 2 centimeters from your bumper and you are positive there's no way they're going to stop in time and that a bus full of 6 year olds will ulitmately lead to your demise. Damn school busses. (Technically "busses" can be spelled two ways. Buses and Busses. I REFUSE to spell it as 'buses'. My brain tells me the way to pronounce that word is 'byooses'. Not cool! Busses is technically correct as well, however used much less often due to busses also being the plural of 'buss' which is apparently some word in some dialect of something. I'm still using it. It's technically correct and when I look at it my brain says "Ah yes, busses. That's right.")

I wonder if anyone is going to email me to say that I'm a heartless bitch because kids need busses to get to school, and by complaining about it I'm sending the message that not only do I hate busses, but I hate bus drivers and 6 year olds and I'm the reason God is trying to destroy the world with Natural Diasters and AIDS.

It's cold out. I'm sick of hearing people on the radio say that the weather is going to be "just beautiful" and then they tell me the high for day is going to be 65 degrees (which for me, translates to about 23 below freezing.) I love fall, I really do. I'm just really not ready for it yet.

I get to start wearing brown and burgundy. And tights! And boots! And hats! Maybe I am ready for it.

Wait, no. No I'm not. Or maybe... no. Not yet.

I'm moving out of my house in one week. I still don't have a single thing packed. I can't imagine what it must be like to move a whole house full of stuff. I only have a room to move but I'm still going insane. I'm scared of moving. What if it sucks? What if the house was only clean because I was coming to look at it and it's really dirty all the time? What if the bathroom is always really dirty? What if Guy That I Haven't Met Yet Who Lives In The Basement starts stealing my underoos out of the dryer and suddenly I find that he's been wearing them and pretending to be me?? What if I go completely broke? God I hate not having enough money.

Money. Money. Money. I hate money, I hate thinking about money but it's really all I ever think about, and I hate that I'm always worried about it. I need a second job but no one will hire someone to start an evening shift at 6:00pm. I need an extra source of income. I'm going to be completely broke after a month of living on my own, I know it. Even though I budgeted everything out, I know I'm going to go broke and end up living in a box. Imaginary cigarette guy and I will become best buddies, and I'll start to really believe that the goverment killed God. I will totally lose my mind and I'll be homeless and unable to shower so not only will I be crazy but I'll be crazy AND smelly. People will laugh, only they'll laugh from really far away because I'm so stinky. I won't be able to beg for change because no one will come near me.

My office is totally freezing and my hands are going sort of numb. Skin is also very dry. Not cool. Oh hey look! Lotion! I forgot about the lotion I keep on my desk for this exact thing. Neat.

This lotion smells exceptionally wonderful. Mmm.

I get to see J tonight! Oh man I'm excited! It's been like, 8 days since we've hung out. That's almost a record. I think the longest I've gone without seeing him in the past 5 years has been 2 1/2 or 3 weeks. Damn we've been buds for 5 years! J is the best. Oh and the pup!! I get to see my puppy!! And my comfy blanket is at J's house. Sweet!! Blanket weather!!

Shit, I have to start working on J's quilt.

Here is a sketch. A blurry, small picture of a sketch. The sketch took exactly 1 minute and 20 seconds. I timed it.

It says Jeep because I bought Jeep fabric. He has a Jeep which he is in love with. I should really start making that quilt ASAP. Really. It's not going to be easy, I've never made a quilt before. Guess what?

Making quilts is expensive!!! Unless you use a whole bunch of scrap material you have lying around... hey!!! I can use fleece from old fleece blankets I have!!! Unnecessary amount of exclamation points!

</insanity>

Ok guys. That's all. There is so much more going on in there, but I'll spare you.

*WaWa, for those of you who don't know, is a convenience store. It's sort of like 7-11, only cooler and bigger. And cooler.

PB

2006-09-20T14:24:00.002-05:00

This past week has been full of lots of cool things. I hung out with Andrew. And I hung out with this handsome guy: And there were two other crazy cats in the house. I only got a picture of one of them: The cats really are crazy. However, not nearly as crazy as me. I'm about to show ya'll the ugliest picture of me EVER. I want to explain that picture but there really is no explanation. I went outside at night with my hood on, came back inside, and Andrew thought I looked funny. So I made him take a picture. Oh! We also ate spoonfuls of peanut butter. We're a dangerous bunch, Andrew and I. Renegades, living on the edge. Stop laughing! (Can you tell I'm suffering from a serious lack of blogging material?)

Greed!

2006-09-18T14:06:00.000-05:00

Dear people of the world, In order to allow you to go on living, I'm going to need a few things from you. I don't care who gives me these things, as long as I get them. Love, Ashley (queen of the universe and all of it's inhabitants) List of Demands: 1 - New digital camera. One that has more than 3 megapixels, also one that isn't attached to my phone. (I hate the whole camera phone thing. It is so lame. It's my only option right now, though.) 2 - Lots and lots of money. 3 - A brand spanking new car. I'd even settle for something ugly, like this, or this. Totally don't care. As long as it is brand spanking new. 4 - A credit card whose bill I am not responsible for. 5 - this dog. (* Side note - Everyone, I'd like you to meet Lord Henry W. or as I like to call him, Hank. Now, you see, Hank doesn't technically exist yet. Hank is just the dog I will have someday. He already has a name (after one of my favorite literary characters ever. How could you not love a character that says things like "Men marry because they are tired; women, because they are curious: both are disappointed.") and I already know what kind of dog he has to be and what he has to look like. Hank will be awesome.) 6 - A house. A small house. I'm feeling very greedy today.

All I can ever think is that the toilet water is going into those horrible cuts from the handcuffs!

2006-09-12T18:10:00.000-05:00

So the next few days should be really fun. The next 7 or 8 days. I'm not going to use the phrase 'babysit' because that is so inaccurate. So here is the story: Pete, the red-headed boy whose face I am licking below? He has a younger brother, Andrew, who I mentioned in a previous entry.(Scroll down to where I describe the family.) Andrew and I are friends. Andrew, however, is only 16. So his parents asked me to stay with him while they go on vacation. Ya know, because Andrew is a Crazy Teenager and he will throw wild, drunken, naked toga parties with bathtubs full of champagne and 40's if someone isn't here to keep him in check. That person is me. So it's cool because I get to stay in Pete's house, hang out with the kitties, eat some yummy food, and have some good company. Even more excitement because Ruthann is coming home Friday Night!!! I get to spend Friday night with two crazy red-heads and 3 cats. I know, you're jealous, it's ok. I'd be jealous too. Seriously, I'm so in love with this family that it's sickening. Last night I went over to the house to get the rundown from Pete's Mom on the upcoming week. When to put the garbage out, how and when to feed the cats, what course of action to take should I come home from work to a drunken orgy of highschool students, etc. So PM, Andrew, and I are all sitting around the table chatting. Andrew then tells me that he made PM watch the beginning of The Boondock Saints. He tells me this with what I call "The Andrew Look". (Clever name, eh? You must click the link!) Do you see the gleam in his crazy little eye? It's a mix of genius and caffeine. So he's giving both his mother and I this look, and all I can think is "OH MY GOD ANDREW, Lay off the CRACK PIPE!!!!" because seriously, PM is a lovely, moral woman. She's kind and good and she never even mumbles something that remotely resembles a curse word! The opening scenes in that movie involve alcohol, foul language, blood, gun shots, and graphic fight scenes. So I'm ready to hear her tell us, sweetly, that we are going to be condemned to the fiery pits of hell for loving such filth. I've stated before that I absolutely LOVE LOVE LOVE this movie, never once considering that she'd ever see it. So I brace myself to hear what her reaction was... ...and she doesn't really say anything. Just smiles and says that it wasn't terrible but that she just doesn't like watching people get killed. And then she started talking about the toilet scene. She started talking about how amazing an adrenaline rush is for some people, how it allows them to perform amazing feats. ?!?!?!?! Seriously. 1- Never underestimate Andrew's judgement in showing things to his mom and 2- Ask PM to adopt me because she is seriously the shit. I think it's pretty obvious that this week is going to rule.

Confessions of a Chronic Doodler (the word 'doodler' makes me giggle)

2006-09-11T10:40:00.000-05:00

While I'm on the phone or while I'm having a conversation at the diner, I doodle. Nothing too strange about that, a lot of people do it. The only thing is, I don't doodle cute little pictures of flowers or smiley faces or anything like that. I do something much more abnormal. Leave it up to me to take something completely mundane and make it weird. I doodle my half of the conversation. In other words, I write down what I'm saying, as I'm saying it. I can't write that quickly so it's usually only bits and pieces. So my pages look vaguely similar to this: It's an entirely useless habit. I mean, I understand that it's just giving me something to focus my eyes on while I'm listening to someone speak, but wouldn't it be slightly more useful if I could at least write down what the other person is saying? Having an entire page of my own half of the conversation is just plain strange. I don't even realize I'm doing it. It's not just a weird habit, though. It's actually quite detrimental. I'm so used to writing down what I say that when I have to take a message for someone at work, it's really difficult for me. I kind of pause and get flustered. Granted, this is also because I absolutely despise talking on the phone, especially to people I don't know, and especially in a professional situation. Also - The 9/11 post that everyone is doing today? Not going to happen here. Why? I will have no friends left after they hear my opinions.

So many pictures!

2006-08-31T16:32:00.000-05:00

After a day like today, I think I might need some of this: Or some of this: And I can't wait to go to this place, for some coffee and good company: One of the waitresses took that ^^ picture. I <3 My Diner. I think the real problem is that I seriously miss this guy: Yes, I'm licking his face. Don't look so shocked!

stomps feet

2006-08-31T09:45:00.000-05:00

This was me yesterday after I went home: This was me after I went home and discovered that my laptop, the computer I use most often, the computer that holds nearly ALL of my music, stopped working: This was me, having gone completely insane after realizing that plugging and unplugging the laptop was not going to turn it on. Also, realizing that I have no money to purchase a new laptop. Also, after realizing that I spent a TON OF MONEY on the music on that computer, and that there is a ton of stuff other than music on that computer that I can't get back. Also, bra straps: This was me at work this morning, exhausted from obsessing over laptop all damn night. Also, right before my cell phone decided to be a bitch and shut off for no reason, which it has never done before. This is me after I almost started crying because I thought my laptop AND my cellphone were going to die, and also after I screamed at my cellphone and banged it on the desk and begged it not to leave me, and doesn't it know that I HAVE NO MONEY AND I CANNOT AFFORD THIS?! Also, after the cell phone turned on. And it seems to be behaving well. And it let me take a picture: Yes, my jaw is visibly clenched.

And she's not only merely dead, she's really most sincerely dead. (Not the same song, I know, I just really like the Coroner.)

2006-08-29T16:31:00.000-05:00

It really was no miracle. What happened was just this:
The wind began to switch - the house to pitch
And suddenly the hinges started to unhitch.
Just then, the witch - to satisfy an itch -
Went flying on her broomstick thumbing for a hitch.
And oh, what happened then was rich!
The house began to pitch
The kitchen took a slitch
It landed on the Wicked Witch
In the middle of a ditch
Which was not a healthy situation
For the Wicked Witch.
The house began to pitch
The kitchen took a slitch
It landed on the Wicked Witch in the middle of a ditch
Which
Was not a healthy sitch-
-Uation for
The Wicked Witch
Who
Began to twitch
And was reduced
To just a stitch
Of what was once the Wicked Witch!

Mary is my homegirl.

2006-08-29T15:27:00.000-05:00

This has come up a few times in recent weeks, so I'm going to clarify.

I have posted on here a few times about how ridiculous I think the Catholic church is. My opinion is an informed one. I was Catholic for a great deal of time, I made my Communion and my Confirmation. I wanted to be a nun. I went to Confession. I have a collection of expensive rosaries for various occasions, and I still have about 10 bibles.

I decided at some point that I didn't want to be Catholic. I started thinking back to when I was younger and I tried to put coins into the donation basket. They were my coins that I had saved by myself, and I wanted to give them to the church. Then the donation basket dude told me we didn't need "any jingle bells" in the basket. At the time I felt like a horrible Catholic and thus went to Confession as often as possible and prayed like it was my job. At some point years later I remembered the incident and it got the ball rolling. I'm not sure when I decided that the Catholic Church wasn't cool for me, but it was probably when I was a rebellious teen and I thought safety pins were a really hot fashion accessory.

HOWEVER

Just because I rejected the Catholic belief system does not mean that I have rejected all belief systems. If I had to classify myself now, I'd classify myself as Christian. If I HAD to classify. I still hold Christian beliefs. I still enjoy church every once in awhile. (Non-denominational Christian church.) I know, it's insane. What can I say?

I have very specific beliefs. I'm not fanatical about them, or extreme about them, nor do I argue with people about them. Religion is something not to be messed with, and while I'll express my distaste for Catholicism here on my personal blog, I would never ever ever tell someone their belief system is wrong. If that's what you believe, who am I to say that you are wrong? I cannot say that with any authority.

For me, it felt very very wrong to partake in some of the Catholic traditions and beliefs. Confessing my sins to a priest. Judging others based on their lifestyle choices. Having people tell me my coins are not good enough to donate to the church. I feel these things have nothing to do with belief and more to do with power. I'm not into power, nor am I ok with people holding things over my head to make me feel bad or guilty. I think that's where a church turns into a cult, and where a benevolent system becomes a malicious one. Those are just things that I feel. I feel that in my gut, and anytime I've gone against my gut feeling things have gone all squirrelly.

So yeah, I'm Christian I guess. I believe certain things very strongly. I do not believe it is wrong to be homosexual or to sleep with someone out of wedlock. I do not believe it is ok to impose my views on other people, nor do I think it's ok for them to try to impose their views on me. I believe a lot of things. I don't know why, it just feels right. There was a time when I believed there was an imaginary penguin sitting in my ear. Who knows what's right? All I can do is go with what is comfortable for me.

What really made me look at things again was something really tiny that happened last night.

I was at the diner with my friend Levi. Levi is awesome. Levi and I were sitting at the counter discussing some rather inflammatory subjects (none of which had to do with religion) that were probably really inappropriate for public discussion. We laughed our asses off, and after we were done laughing there was a quiet moment.

In that quiet moment, two women who had been sitting in a booth behind us ask us if we have a church that we go to. The one woman talking to us was really kind and unobtrusive. Her friend just smiled and ate her food. Levi said the name of his church, and I said that I don't go too often but if I feel the urge I go to church in Pennington.

She then told us that we should stop by her church on Mulberry Street some time. She said it would be a lovely experience and that we'd have a very good time. Then she asked our names and we chatted for a bit. Then she and her friend got up, paid for their meal and left.

It kind of struck me. She was so kind and sweet. She obviously thought Levi and I are sinners and she was trying to save us from the fiery depths of Hell. I'm sure she noticed it was a lost cause, but hey, she gave it a shot. You know what though? The way she did it was so nice. She wasn't obtrusive, she didn't force anything down our throats, the words "Jesus Christ" never came up. She was just gently letting us know that should we ever feel the need to be church-goers, we were certainly welcome at her church.

And I think while it may have been a little presumptuous and a little unnecessary, at least it was done with good intentions. I think that those 'good intentions' are forgotten way way too often. People do things and say they have the best of intentions, but they are liars. Big fat dummy liars.

I guess that woman's disposition really made me think of the positive aspects of having a belief system. A lot of people assume because I'm not Catholic that I'm not anything, which couldn't be further from the truth. I just keep it to myself.

Anyway, this was pretty unorganized, and that story really doesn't tie in with the theme of this entry, but I'm grumpy and crampy and tired and hungry, so um, oh well.

Peace out, homies.

Adventures in Babysitting - 2

2006-08-28T14:25:00.000-05:00

The scene: Playground before Lunch.

The players: Myself and 3 year old Lucy*. Lucy* is eeeeny weeeny teeeeny tiiiiiny. Have you ever heard that horrible, inaccurate, stereotypical Indian accent people do when they imitate gas staion attendants? That is the way Lucy* talks exactly. That is the WHOLE reason this story is amusing, so you have to imagine her saying these things with that accent.

I'm playing with a few kids in the sandbox when I hear Lucy's* voice from behind me. She's sort of, wimpering. I turn around and see her holding her butt for dear life with one hand. She's walking in circles. I ask her "Lucy*, what's up? Do you have to go potty?" to which she replies "My butt! My butt!" I assume that's a yes, so I take her inside to go potty.

She goes into the bathroom and does whatever is that she has to do. She then comes out of the bathroom with her pants around her ankles, and looks at me with big, confused eyes.

"Miss Ashley! We have no paper toilet!"
"Excuse me Lucy*? What was that?"
"We have no paper toilet! Oh my goodness!"
"Oh! Toilet paper! Sorry, I'll get you some more."
"Oh thank you so much. Oh goodness. That was a little scary."

She finishes what she has to finish and we go back outside. She tells all the teachers on the playground of her recent adventure and my GAWD the HORROR and Holy Crap! Whew! We were really scared there for a minute. Having no paper toilet can really rattle a person's nerves, you know.

I'm feeling like this is one of those "you had to be there" kind of stories. It was really funny though, I swear!

*As always, name has been changed.

Really? Enough with the letters.

2006-08-25T16:10:00.000-05:00

Brain = still dead. All I can really think right now is:

Dear Balenciaga,

The riding cap and Herman Munster boots are HORRIBLE. HORRIBLE.

And it's not even off-the-wall enough to classify it as some crazy experiment. It's just ugly.

You suck,
Ashley

Dear Thursday, please give me my brain back. kthxbye

2006-08-24T08:35:00.000-05:00

It's Thursday morning, and I'm inexplicably brain-dead. (Exhibit A - I had to look up the word "brain-dead" to see if it was one word, two words, or hyphenated.) Because of this spontaneous lack of anything resembling rational though, and also my lack of proper caffeination, I'm going to write some letters.

Dear Internet,

I'm not too fond of you right now, nor am I fond of my crippling addiction to you and your websites. Sure, you keep me occupied all day, but why must there be the ever-present threat of nudity and filth, thus causing me to fear for my job (which I would probably do anyway) every single time I visit a new website? Hmm?

Also, why must every single tutorial you offer, from web design to Photoshop, assume that I ALREADY KNOW EVERYTHING EVER IN THE HISTORY OF COMPUTER PROGRAMS?

Please, stop being so lame. Really, it's getting old. If I could kick you, I would.

Love,
Your adoring fan,
Ashley

Dear Anthropologie,

Why must you be so damn expensive?

And why, for the love of God, do you have such adorable home decor products? I can't afford you, Anthropologie, but I sure want to!

Also, why do you sell such horrifically ugly shoes at insane prices?

Exhibit A - http://www.anthropologie.com/jump.jsp?itemID=12401&itemType=PRODUCT&iSubCat=817&iMainCat=812
Exhibit B - http://www.anthropologie.com/jump.jsp?itemID=12100&itemType=PRODUCT&iMainCat=812&iSubCat=815&previous=1
Exhibit C - http://www.anthropologie.com/jump.jsp?itemID=13255&itemType=PRODUCT&iMainCat=812&iSubCat=817&previous=1

Have you lost your damn mind? It's obvious you have good taste, so what's up with the shoe issue? Are you friends with Urban Outfitters? Is that the problem? Don't listen to him. He is the devil!

Love,
Your incredibly broke friend,
Ashley

(P.S. - If I come into your store with my credit card, please promptly kick me out. It might not seem like the right decision, but trust me, it will benefit you in the long run.)

Dear Bank Account,

Could you please just, like, double the amount of money I have? It's ok, just take the money from someone who won't even notice that it's gone. Come on, just a little bit of free money? Who will it hurt?

You look mighty pretty today. *wink wink* Did you get a haircut? Oh, and are those new shoes? You obviously don't shop at Anthropologie. No, it's a compliment, trust me.

Love,
Your friend who will soon be living in a box,
Ashley

Dear Blogger,

You are a stupid… stupidhead? (shut up), and I hate you with all of my soul.

Why can't you EVER EVER WORK PROPERLY? Hmmm?

If I knew how to use any other freakin programs, I'd do it. I don't though. So I'm screwed. And I'm stuck with you.

But, I hate you. I hate you a lot. So there.

There are no words,

Ashley

The Internet Makes Me Feel Inadequate.

2006-08-21T14:53:00.000-05:00

"The whole album sounds like a Utah winter: cold, dirty, gray, unforgiving, and overwhelmingly beautiful. If there were a Mormon God, the song “NYC” would be the official song of the second coming, specifically the part at about two minutes and eight seconds, right after he sings, “Somehow I’m not impressed,” and the guitar starts to tremble furiously, building and ramping in tandem with the drums, and the guitar just starts to cry and ache and plead You shall have no other Gods before me, and then it just sits there screaming and burning the flesh of all the unworthy, and it doesn’t stop until the end of the song, when the world has been cleansed of its sins. I find religion every time I hear that song."

--Excerpt from http://www.Dooce.com - Dec. 31st 2003

The song "NYC" she is referring to is by Interpol. The album is called Turn on the Bright Lights.

Not only did she capture the mood of that song with stunning accuracy, but I dare anyone to tell me that the paragraph above isn't amazingly superb writing.

I'm not sure if my writing will ever be that way. I know if I put forth more effort and spent time on what I choose to post to my blog, I would drastically improve the quality of my writing. It's writing like the excerpt above that makes me wonder if it's really worth trying.

Heather Says:

"Best Drink of 2003: Tropicana Premium Pulp Free Orange Juice, Calcium Fortified, the only thing I could drink from the middle of May through the beginning of August without having my head spin around and projecting the contents of my stomach all over the face of the exorcist sitting at my bedside."

--Excerpt from same as above.

If that were me, I'd say:

Best Drink of 2003: Orange juice. The calcium fortified kind. The only thing I could drink without barfing.

Seriously? Come on now!

2006-08-18T13:43:00.000-05:00

*In order to understand this you must all go here: www.myspace.com/ouchbackwall and read my profile.*

People. People. People.

I change my underwear everyday. I promise you.

I can say with a great deal of confidence that I have never EVER worn the same pair of underwear two days in a row. And guess what? I wash my underwear before I put it back in the underwear drawer! Amazing, I know.

It was a joke.

Carry on.

You must read the pink eye letters. You must. You go now!

2006-08-16T15:12:00.000-05:00

www. finslippy. com

If you don't read this ^^^ already then you should start. Immediately. It made me laugh so hard today that I almost shot milk out of my nose. (I'd actually link but I'm posting through email and links don't respond well, so um, just go to the nav bar above and click "alice".

RockStarMommy - Fix it fix it fix it!

Entry of substance soon, I promise!

I'm going to call you Penny from now on.

2006-08-16T12:06:00.000-05:00

Would the reader from Pennington, NJ please let me know who you are? If you wish to remain anonymous, that's cool...

I'm just a little excited because I know my other Jersey readers, and I don't know you!

So would the reader who is from/signs on from Pennington or anywhere around that area please make yourself known!

I love you!

(The lack of money and a place to live has caused my brain cells to just… stop. Ya know, they don't… do anything anymore.)

$600.00 per month (not including utilities) to rent a room. A single room. Not even an apartment, but a single room. AND THAT IS CONSIDERED CHEAP.

2006-08-16T11:57:00.000-05:00

Sorry for the absence, I've been dying. No seriously, dying. I got super sick.

Anyway, I'm just popping in to say a couple of things that aren't very cheerful. Sorry.

1) WHY DOES NEW JERSEY HAVE TO BE SO GOD DAMNED EXPENSIVE?!?!?! I know I bitch about this all the damn time but I seriously just can't find a place to live. I look every single day for an affordable apartment, but there's nothing unless I want to live in the ghetto. GAH.

How do people do it? I just don't understand. Everyone in the world must get paid a lot more than I do. I can't ask for a raise, I've only been here for 6 months and my job really isn't that difficult where I could ask for a raise based on merit.

I'm just really down right now because things get worse and worse at home as the days go by. I came home the other night to find MY computer (mine as in I bought it and paid for it with my own money) MIA. My mom gave MY computer to my brother. Not gave, let him borrow. (He ruins anything electronic he touches, and I have a buttload of music on the computer that I'd be totally screwed if I lost.) It's really nice to come home with a headache and a fever to find that your family is just loaning out your property.

I am making myself sick with all the complaining! I know! It's crappy! I could get a second job, but I'd like to enjoy my life somewhat. If I got a second job I'd literally only have time to sleep and work.

SUGGESTIONS WOULD BE HELPFUL PEOPLE.

2) I was feeling like POOOOO for a few days, but I'm all better today! I'm actually feeling quite cheerful except for the whole "found a great place that costs 100 dollars more than I an afford per month and maybe I should become a prostitute" thing.

3) I'll write a better entry before the day is through, but SUGGESTIONS PEOPLE. SUGGESTIONS. LETS GO.

4) I'm a little demanding, aren't I? Sorry bout that.

Bless me Father, for I have... Ugh whatever.

2006-08-10T16:09:00.000-05:00

The series of events that just transpired were so cyclical that I'm not even sure if I can relate them clearly. (OMFG that sentence was so pretentious!)

First, I'll give you the original entry. Here it is:

I have a slight problem with creativity. The problem is not that I have difficulty being creative, the problem is that I'm somewhat addicted to having a creative outlet.

This, combined with the fact that I am impatient and I hate screwing up, results in this; I have a billion hobbies, none of which I can do very well.

I have taught myself to knit, crochet, sew, cross-stich, embroider, bead my own jewelry (with string AND wire), paint, and draw. On top of that I write all kinds of things. I've written THREE full length novels, tons of poems when I was an angsty teen, and about 188972483 short stories. On top of that I've kept multiple journals since the age of 8, none of which have more than 5 pages of entries because I hate the way the paper curls up after that. I know. OCD.

I'm too impatient to take the time and develop the skills needed to be good at any one thing. I don't like being wrong or making mistakes, so as soon as any hobby goes beyond a beginner level and I start messing up, I quit for a few months. Then I go back to it, and the cycle repeats.

Instead of trying to break this cycle and picking one thing to practice and become REALLY good at, I choose to look for even more useless hobbies to spend money on and abandon for months at a time.

Today? I looked up information on creating vector art, web design, airbrushing, and photoshop. *Side Rant - What is up with every single photoshop tutorial assuming that you ALREADY KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT THAT PROGRAM?! JEEZUS!*

I guarantee you that in the next few weeks, I'll have tried at least one of the things that I looked up today. I'll spend money on supplies, I'll get really into it for a couple of days, and then I'll get mad, break something, and vow never to touch anything resembling (insert art project here) again!

Maybe, as I'm becoming more aware of this addiction, I'll be able to tone it down a little bit. I mean this time, I actually want someone to show me how to use Adobe Illustrator and/or Photoshop. That is a first. I usually insist on teaching myself everything.

Getting off track here. Bottom line? I SPEND WAY TOO MUCH TIME AND MONEY IN AC MOORE.

End Original Entry.

After I wrote that, I decided I wanted the title of that post to be like a confession to a priest. *For people who know nothing of Catholics, before you confess to a priest you have to say "Bless me Father for I have sinned." and then some other stuff.*

Well, being that I used to be a good little catholic girl *Interesting fact - I used to love church, and there was a great deal of time in which I wanted to be a nun. Stop laughing, it's true.* I knew the first part of the proper way to confess, but I forgot the rest. So, I decide to look it up!

Looking up anything religious on the Internet? BAD IDEA PEOPLE. BAD IDEA.

I found lots of things like "Is it OK to masturbate?" and "How God feels about homosexuals" and well, morbid curiosity. I had to read the answers to the questions! The answers provided by Catholic clergy!

You can guess what happened next. Maybe you can't, being that maybe you don't know me. I'll clue you in.

I got so angry that I was gripping the desk hard enough to hurt myself. It was dumb to read the answers when I knew I wouldn't like them, and it was also dumb of me to get so fired up in something I believe to be truly false, but still! GAH. The nerve! Oh whatever.

So, in my quest to find a title for this entry, I spend a half hour staring open-mouthed at the computer screen while trying not to throw up or break something.

After that debacle, I needed to distract myself from the anger, so I looked up information on how I would go about batiking. And see, there we are right back at the beginning. Addiction I tell you!

I think I should be on some type of pill. Or tranquilizer. Or hit over the head with a bat.

2006-08-09T09:48:00.000-05:00

Lately, a lot of people I know are moving/leaving. Pete is going back to Texas and then to Iraq. Ivette is moving to California. Chrissy has already moved to Hawaii. Deanna is going back to Florida. Chuck will be going back to school.

Because of this, I'm freaking out. I am absolutely terrible with any change in the least. I thrive on routine and predictability. It takes very little disruption for me to feel as if the planet is spiraling out of control, so with these recent developments it feels something like 'OH MY GOD IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD I WILL HAVE NO FRIENDS I AM GOING TO DIE'. Or something. Ahem.

I am so freaked out by this, in fact, that I've been having nightmares that I am moving.

Last night, my nightmare went something like this:

I am in my room talking about my upcoming move to California, which is happening the next day. Nothing I own is packed. Not even a single piece of clothing. I have also made the decision not to use luggage, but to instead use paper and plastic shopping bags.

Apparently I had been excited about the move prior to where the dream picked up, but the severity and distance had suddenly become a reality. I was losing it. (This was the overall feeling of the nightmare. The accuracy of that feeling was insane.) I start to freak out and tell my mom that I'd like to wait until September to move (not sure why?) and that I think moving tomorrow is a really bad idea. I start crying really hard as I shove my belongings into paper bags that are ripping open. She tells me that it isn't an option and that I have to go first thing in the morning.

Then, all of a sudden, I realize that I'd be leaving J and the dog. (J, for those of you who don't know, is my absolute best friend in the world and I honestly don't think I could lead any type of enjoyable life without him at this point. I see him/sleep at his house at least 3 times a week. He is sort of like... if you put your whole family and all your friends into one body, that is sort of like what J is to me.) So I realize that I'll be living across the country from J. I completely lose it and start crying and being really depressed. I tell my mom there is no way in hell I am moving now. No. Fucking. way.

So, my mom calls the police and they pick me up, drag me out of the house and toss me in a van. They load up only two of my (ripped) paper bags, and they leave my purse at my house which contains my wallet and my inhaler. We drive to the airport. End scene.

It might not sound that terrifying, and it's really not, but for some reason it scared me worse than most really terrible dreams I've had. I woke up in a complete panic. (It didn't help that I woke up to my mom saying "Ashley? Are you awake? You need to leave like, now! You've got to get going and out of the house!")

I think that nightmare effectively illustrates how incredibly scared of change I am. I am also codependent, and a crackhead.

2006-08-08T11:22:00.000-05:00

I'm sorry I'm being a lazy bum lately. Brain = not working. Here are two things that I can't get out of my head today:

"Human tails? Humans don't have tails! They have big, big bottoms that they wear with bad shorts! They walk around going "Hi, Helen!"

And

"Price check on prune juice, Bob. Price check on prune juice."

If you know what movie those lines are from, then you get a cookie.

This is your brain after a day off.

2006-08-04T09:25:00.000-05:00

My brain is not functioning properly because I didn't work yesterday. Whenever I'm not at work I come back the next day waiting to get fired.

Oh so pointless.

2006-08-02T12:05:00.000-05:00

This just in:

I was sitting outside on my lunch break (you know, because it happens to be 320 degrees outside, but it happens to be -75 degrees inside, so I kind of hop back and forth to warm up and cool down) and someone walked by and said "Hot enough for you?"

I blinked. I smiled. I gave him my best confused look and breathed a sign of relief as he walked away.

People really say things like that! They seriously use cliché phrases! I had no idea! I thought that was a joke, you know, like "Hey, how about that local sports team?"

And really? That is such a strange rhetorical question. How are you supposed to respond?

How many times can I post about my insanity?

2006-08-02T11:42:00.000-05:00

Yes, Hi, Hello. How do you do? I've gone completely insane. Ha, yes, you find this amusing. I assure you, if you could see me right now, there would be less laughing and more... shrieking. Yes, shrieking is the word I'm looking for.

I'm doing that thing that I do where I spread myself way too thin because OH MY GOD IF I DON'T SEE EVERYONE THEY WILL HATE ME FOREVER AND IT WILL BE LIKE HIGHSCHOOL ALL OVER AGAIN WHERE PEOPLE THROW FOOD AT ME AND BARK WHEN I WALK BY. Or something. Heh.

First and foremost, Pete is home. He's only home for two weeks, and this will be the last time that I get to see him before October 2007. Needless to say, I feel like I need to spend every waking (non-working) minute with him. For some reason, everyone becomes so incredibly upset with me when Pete is home because they accuse me of disappearing for two weeks or however many days his leave happens to be at the time. Am I really being a bad friend by decreasing the amount of time I spend with everyone else in order to see him? In my head, it makes perfect sense. Especially when it seems that I only get calls from people when Pete comes home.

With trying to see Pete, getting calls from Ivette, trying to see J who just returned from a trip, seeing Allie who was in town for one day, and hanging out with Tom because he actually wanted to hang out FOR ONCE, I've gone out of my mind.

I always feel like such an asshole if I can't fit everyone in.

And mark my words, in two weeks when Pete is gone, NO ONE will want to hang out with me. They'll all be angry that I couldn't make time for them while Pete was home, and they won't get over their anger until Pete is home on leave again.

So, do you think I'm being unreasonable?

Blah Blah Cry Blah Blah Serious.

2006-07-31T15:34:00.000-05:00

I am not a very political minded person; I try to educate myself on the subject but it's a hard thing for me to grasp. I'm not very good at understanding people when they never say what they actually mean.

The war that is going on right now in Iraq makes absolutely no sense to me at all. I'm thinking there is something about that war that I must not understand. There has to be more to it, because I can't understand justifying the fact that we're fighting a war over there UNLESS there is something that I really don't know.

That being said, I don't want any e-mails about how I'm an idiot because I don't understand politics, or how I'm not patriotic because I don't support what I don't understand. I love the US, but I honestly don't feel like our armed forces are fighting FOR the US. They're fighting because of it, not for it. I don't believe we are in any less danger now than we were before the war started. I try to understand, and I try to read about politics and current events and etc. etc., but I just can't seem to grasp exactly what the US is doing and why. That isn't limited to the war, either.

This post isn't about whether or not I agree with this war, though. This post is about something I DO know. Something I DO understand, and that's what it feels like to know someone who is leaving to fight in Iraq, and how it feels to miss them while they are gone.

As of right now, I know quite a few people leaving to fight. Two of these people are fathers, two of them turned 18 just a few weeks ago, two of them are from the same family.

One of them is Peter. My ex-boyfriend-but-husband-someday Pete. The Pete I've been missing every single day for two years now. The same Pete who has ALREADY BEEN OVER THERE ONCE. The same Pete who would be getting out of the Army for good in February, but now he's being forced to stay in for an entire extra year.

I'm angry and I'm sad that he's being forced back there. I'm upset that there is nothing I can do for him. I am ready for him to be home for good and I'm ready to be with him all the time. Yet again I feel totally helpless. I remember how it felt the first time. Constantly holding my breath, never reading the newspaper or watching the news.

I'm angry and sad for me, but I'm also upset for his family. His wonderful, beautiful family. You see, his family is a really tight knit group of people. A group of people who feel his absence every day. I'm especially sad for his oldest sister Rachel because her husband will be going over in August and he'll be there for 7 months. I know how I feel, and Peter isn't my husband or my brother or my son. I can't even begin to imagine how Pete's family actually feels.

This is how awesome they are:

Mom and Dad - Never fight. They are fair and generous people. They have killer senses of humor. They go for walks together in the morning or evenings. They drink tea. They enjoy good music and even better food. They have raised 5 amazingly awesome children.

Rachel - The oldest of the five kids. Apparently, she used to be the goody-two-shoes of the group. I wasn't around for that. Now she jumps out of planes and protects college students. She laughs a lot and she likes caffeine. She listens when people talk and she's always interested in what they have to say. She is capable and sweet and just a lot of fun. She can instantly put a smile on your face.

Becca - Second born. Listening to her and her Dad talk is so entertaining. She has an attitude almost exactly like mine. She has road rage that rivals mine. She is one of the most talented people in the world and no I'm not kidding. She is in Seattle right now getting ANOTHER degree. She works her ass off, her artistic talent is beyond jaw-dropping, and she is so funny. I miss her!

Peter - I've never been so comfortable around anyone so fast. He's goofy. He's sweet. He's hilarious. He gets my sense of humor. He has red hair and freckles! He has tattoos. He's beautiful. He is reckless but seldom realizes it. He never says a mean thing about anyone. You think I'm kidding, I'm not. There are actually people out there who aren't as terrible as I am. He's one of them. He'd do anything for his family or his friends. He actually stands up for me. Basically, he's my future.

Ruthann - Her intelligence is astonishing. She is creative and witty as hell. She is the definition of a 'good person.' She stands her ground without making others feel uncomfortable. She knows how to do cool stuff. She is crafty and musical and the kind of person who could honestly do ANYTHING she sets her mind to. Could probably sprout wings and take off if she so desired.

Andrew - We hang out, he's my bud. He's 16. He has a sense of humor like Pete. I think I'm probably closest to Andrew out of all the siblings (except Pete of course). I really feel like Andrew is my little brother. I'd probably do anything for him. I worry about him and I want him to succeed. (His girlfriend is adorable.) Like the rest of his siblings, he's so intelligent. He's creative. He has an incredible enthusiasm for life. He is adventurous like Pete. He's confident and he makes me laugh so hard. He imitates Stuart with me. He's awesome.

This is a family who gets together every Friday night for dinner. A family who travels together and talk openly about a great deal of things. A family who has amazing morals and integrity. They are cultured but not uppity. They get along and actually have fun together. Being in their house means being comfortable. It's hard to describe how entirely wonderful this family is without sounding like I'm making it up. All I can say is that they've treated me like I've never been treated before.

The point of telling you about this family is to show you that when people have to go fight a war, this is what they have to leave. They leave a Mom and Dad and Rachel, Becca, Ruthann, and Andrew. They leave an Ashley. They leave a Raja and a Cassie and a Desi. Sometimes they leave their first born children or maybe they miss first steps or first words. Sometimes they've only been married for two days before they leave their new spouse for an entire year. Sometimes they miss the death of a loved one (or loved pet) and sometimes just the little things they miss everyday are the hardest.

And in Iraq? You wait. For 365 days, you wait. You wait to get letters, you wait to be able to call home or send email. You wait to put your life in danger. You wait to shoot and be shot at. And then you wait to take a shit, and you wait to hear news that you weren't home to see. And you wait to see who remembers to keep in touch and who doesn't. And you wait to come home.

And it seems that not a damn person who I've ever come in contact with can actually tell me exactly why they're over there, waiting. So basically, all I hear is this.

"Hey Ashley, your boyfriend, we're going to keep him for awhile. Oh wait! He was going to be out in February, but now? Screw that! We're keeping him for an extra year. 365 days. Reason? Nope, no reason. We just thought it would be nice to make sure that his family and friends could hold their breath for another year. You know, on top of the one you just went through. So yeah, there's not a damn thing you can do."

I've heard my fair share of "He knew what he was doing when he signed up." Let me ask you this - Have you always understood the severity of every decision you've made in your life? Have you ever gotten in over your head, wondered how you ended up where you did? I know I have. Have your mistakes or decisions sent you off to get shot at a gajillion miles away from your family? No? Well thank god for that. So please, save your breath. Most of us are lucky enough that we make dumb decisions that are reversible, not that bad. Not that dangerous. Some people are not that lucky.

I'm not sure what the point of this is. I'm just frustrated that someone so close to me is going back for a second time to a country where I don't think we need to be.

I guess I just want him home. And I was hoping so terribly hard that he would be home in February, finally. In the back of my mind I knew that wouldn't happen... but I thought for once I'd hope for the best and not think of the worst. And now I'm sad and disappointed and scared for him.

So it really comes down to this: from October 2006 to October 2007, I will be holding my breath. In February 2008, I'll actually be able to laugh and mean it. Until then? Not really.

Adventures in Babysitting - 1

2006-07-28T11:09:00.000-05:00

As some of you know, I used to be a daycare teacher. I got paid $8.00/hr to clean up poop and snot. I've been bitten, pooped on, peed on, thrown up on, beaten up, head butted, and reprimanded for asking a child to please not hit me in the face with a fire truck. I had children stack chairs on top of tables, climb onto said chair, stand on one leg, and stick their tongue out at me while I was changing a diaper. I cried a lot. I actually said the words "SAI*! Spit that rock out into my hand right now please, I would be very sad if you choked on it and got hurt. Now SPIT THE ROCK INTO MY HAND!" I willingly asked a child to place a drool and mud covered rock into my bare hand. Crazy, I know!

At this point, you're probably thinking "Ashley, do you smoke crack? No? Are you sure? Then why would you willingly do such a thing everyday for 3 years?"

The answer, my dear readers, can be found in the following conversation between myself and 2-year-old Melanie*.

Melanie* comes over to me while I'm sitting at the table. Her face is covered in chocolate and she has pink paint in her hair which is sticking straight up. She has big brown eyes and the deepest dimples you've ever seen. She climbs into my lap, cuddles in, and then looks me right in the eyes. In the most serious tone a toddler can muster she says "Miss Ashley, thank you for being my good friend. You're my best pal." She then puts her chocolatey face on my shoulder and starts to fall asleep.

And then I cried. I am totally serious. I lost it.

And I got to hear things like that at least once a day.

*Name has been changed. Anytime I mention a child, the name has been changed.

2006-07-27T16:01:00.000-05:00

Ok, so it's fixed for now, but I know it's gonna crap out soon. Damnit.

Crap! Crap I tell you!

2006-07-27T14:57:00.000-05:00

THIS! This is not what I need right now!!!

I can no longer post anything from work AT ALL. Not by email and certainly not any other way.

If I send about 12 emails, it might post. In this case, it posted three times.

Seriously? SERIOUSLY BLOGGER?

Grrr.

2006-07-27T14:49:00.002-05:00

I hate that I'm about to do this, but I need some help here.

I am fully aware that no one cares what I eat. That's ok, because I don't think I'd read a blog about someone's eating habits either, unless they were doing restaurant reviews or something. I'm trying to cut back on the food talk, but it's tough.

A problem has come to my attention recently though, and I think maybe the Internet will have some answers for me.

First, you need a little background. (If anyone takes this opportunity to yell at me for being so skinny, I'll hate you forever. Also "Oh my god!" "Ewww!" and "You're so lucky!!!" are not allowed. I was born this way, and to be honest, I'm not all that happy with it. So, um, shut it.)

I weigh 93lbs. I'm 5', 5'1 on a good day. I'm telling you this because, people, I spent $104.00 on food in ONE WEEK. ONE HUNDRED AND FOUR DOLLARS. IN ONE WEEK. SEVEN DAYS. CAPS LOCK.

I've started recording my expenses in an effort to figure out where all my money goes. This helped me see that all of my money goes to the Crystal Diner and WaWa. I spent 104.00 in one week on diner food and snacks from WaWa.

You think I'm joking. I know, it's crazy.

I've figured out the solution to the problem though. I need to just go to Sam's Club and buy ridiculous amounts of cheap food. My snacking is out of control. The problem isn't the amount that I eat, it's the amount of money I spend.

The problem I need YOUR help with is this: I need a cheap food that I can eat that is dinner-ish, extremely quick, and requires little to no heating.

I'll explain my request quickly, as I know you must be ready to spoon out your eyeballs by now - When I leave work, I'm extremely hungry. The diner is on my way home from work. I'm far too lazy to go home, eat, and go all the way back out to the diner. Therefore, I eat there every night. Cutting down on diner time is NOT an option. So, I need something I can eat quickly or in my car on my way to the diner to hold me over.

There are some obvious choices:

Salad
Sandwich
Salad
Salad

Ok that's all I've got.

So, Internets, recommend me some foooood! It's sort of a strange and impossible request. That's why I need your help!

Also: I am NOT a picky eater. Recommend anything at all! I'll try anything once. THANKS!

Really, it took me that long to ask for dinner recommendations. Am I serious with this? GAWD.

Eyes of porcelain and blue, Could shock me into sense, You think you're so illustrious, You call yourself intense

2006-07-26T15:35:00.000-05:00

Hey Katie? (Katie Ehritz, not Katie A.) Peace out, homegirl. I won't forget about the bun. The bun was out of hand! Study Hall. Mr. Morgan. Cory with no E?? Thanks for the hair dye advice. I finally took it! You were so right about 'that Goth shit.' I'm so sorry. Remember yesterday when I said that replacing sadness with anger just doesn't work for me? Well now the anger is creeping in all by itself. Not only is it creeping in, but it's taking it upon itself to squeeze in right next to sadness. So now I feel both things at the same time. At this point, the anger is almost overwhelming. I feel like I need to smash something and destroy it. Also, the realization that I cannot control anything that happens around me is not helping. I am angry and I feel completely helpless. That is not something that I am really used to. I mean, I'm an angry person in general. The helplessness is what is toying with me. Aj;lksdjfa;lsdfjasiejaeianmsdkf Someone is hammering something incredibly loudly here at work, and it's making me want to scream at the top of my lungs. Akldjfl;aksdjfl;aksjdf;laksdjfl;aksdjf;alksdfjaklsdfjal;skdfjas <-------- doing that is the closest to smashing something as I can get at the moment. I've been doing it all day long. This blog is going to change soon, just so you guys know. You guys being ATO, who is apparently the only person who looks at this page. (<3 you ATO!) I'm going to put more effort into what I write as opposed to just posting when I have nothing to say and writing useless drivel. Ok, that's all. *must destroy things* No! Bad Ashley!

GAH.

2006-07-24T15:52:00.000-05:00

OH. MY. GOD.

IT WORKED. HOLYSHIT. (yes, one word, holyshit.)

I have been trying to post things since THURSDAY. And this has been one hell of a few days for me, so the fact that blogger and my work computer decided to suck ass together made everything not so… pleasant. Well, life made these few days unpleasant, blogger just made me go completely apeshit.

And I had so much to tell the Internets! And now… now I'm a little wound up and I can't really think straight. I'm sure this post won't go through because it's gonna decide to be lame again. L. A. M. E.

<----Begin actual post----->

Would you like to know what I hate? I hate when people attend funerals and viewings looking like they rolled out of bed. I know ya'll are like, so punk rawk and all, but it wouldn't kill you to break out the black bondage pants for the occasion. Many people don't agree with me, and that's fine… but it really upset me. Maybe I was just looking for something to be angry at so I wouldn't have to be sad.

You know what I figured out? Replacing sadness with anger never works for me. Nope. Doesn't work.

Would you like to know what I love?

I guess it's 'who' I love as opposed to 'what'.

Eric Zrinsky. John. Katie. (yes you. Don't look so surprised, wench.) Andy Dean. Chris Gonzalez. Chris Reetz. Jenn Hicks. Rachel Hanson. Carlton Fedorko. Tom McGrady. Amy Morgan. Melissa Wassum. Katie Timmons. Angelo Lugo. Dan Rumianowski. Mike Beym. Dirty Mike.

These are all people I don't see. Most of them I don't talk to. All of them I miss. And I don't want the next time I see them to be when we're all saying goodbye to someone.

I hate Saul's Funeral Home because I should really just take up residence there. I've been there a GAJILLION times. And all but twice were for people under the age of 23.

Ok, enough morbidity. I'll deal with my issues on my own time. Please give me a day or two because I'm finding it a little difficult to muster any lighthearted funny right now.

?

2006-07-24T15:35:00.000-05:00

Testing. Testing. *coughbloggerplusworkcomputersucksasscough*

Anybody out there?

Maybe

2006-07-24T15:01:00.000-05:00

Dear Sam, So maybe we weren't friends really, and maybe we didn't keep in touch after highschool, and maybe that’s why you never knew some stupid stuff that I guess I'll tell you now that you can't hear me. Maybe I was always a little jealous of you, because you always had cool boyfriends and cool hair and cool jewelry. And maybe I tried really hard to be like you, because you were pretty and so cool and you really just didn't give a fuck. And maybe you were really nice and liked good music, and you had a really cool laugh and smile. Maybe I tried to dress like you, but it just didn't look right. Maybe you were the type of person that I looked at and though, ya know, I bet we would be pretty good friends if she wasn't so much cooler than me. And maybe I almost died when we talked about tattoos, because maybe we were tattoo buddies. Maybe I thought yours was a little bit cooler than mine, but oh well. Maybe when you asked me if I listened to Mazzy Star, I told you yes because I thought it would make me look cooler, when in reality I had no idea who the hell that was. And maybe when I went home that day I bought some CDs because I thought maybe I should listen to it incase you brought it up again. And maybe after I listened to those CDs I sort of fell in love with that band and now I have listened to them everyday since. And maybe in a weird way I have you to thank for getting me through some tough times because you gave me that band. Maybe after that you somehow got even cooler in my eyes because you had awesome taste in music. Maybe I was envious because you had friends like Judy that you were still friends with until the end. Maybe I got so jealous because you went to Goth Night with Jenn and I wanted to go, too, even though I hate shit like that. Maybe I'm really depressed now and I feel stupid because we weren't friends. Maybe we had the same classes and talked a lot everyday, and maybe we had mutual friends and saw eachother around, and maybe we had some cool conversations pretty often, and maybe I'm sad that when I saw you around I didn't try harder to hang out. Maybe I feel really dumb because I keep thinking about your boyfriend and your parents and your sister and how they must feel and I can't stop crying because I just can't handle it. Maybe every winter I remember the story you told me about driving to school in your car that had no heat and the window would just ice over halfway to school. And how your sister drove with you in your freezing car. And maybe in winter when I scrape my windshield I always remember that story. Maybe I feel sort of cursed, because I've lost so many people this year. And maybe I didn't lose you, but I know other people did. And maybe it's all a little sudden because I still don't know what happened, and maybe no one else does either. Maybe they do. Maybe my mom just blurted out that she saw your obituary yesterday. Maybe she just blurted it out while I was getting highlights in my hair and I thought they looked kind of good and I ended up crying while the hairdresser was trying to cut my hair. Maybe she didn't know how you and I were tattoo buddies and how you gave me Mazzy Star, so maybe she didn't think I would care. Maybe she should know better because if someone dies young in Hamilton, I knew them. So maybe I just wanted you to know that we weren't friends, but you sort of shaped me in a way, as people do. And maybe I wanted you to know that thinking about Judy and Erica and your boyfriend and your family breaks my heart. And maybe I wanted you to know that you had great clothes and cool jewelry. And maybe I wanted you to know that I thought you and Erin Laurie were the two prettiest girls I went to school with. And maybe I know that none of that bullshit would matter to you, but maybe it wouldn't hurt to say it. So maybe I'll tell you that it sucks to know that such an awesome person isn't here, and maybe I'll just let you know that I'm glad you were around, because I like who I am today and you are a part of that. And maybe I'll say goodbye now that you can't hear me. All my Love and Respect, Ashley (I wrote this on Thursday and have been trying to post it since. Shit did not go down the way I wanted. I may have stomped my feet a bit. And cried. I definitely cried.)

A Few Things:

2006-07-19T10:38:00.000-05:00

So, thanks to a lovely woman named Miss Zoot (www.zootdesigns.com), I now have a non-ugly, easy to read, incredibly pretty page that doesn't make me want to smash my head on the keyboard repeatedly everytime I look at it. Hooray! She has more free designs on her site, and I encourage you to use them and send her trashbags full of cash in thanks.

I recently started reading a blog called Rockstar Mommy (www.rockstarmommy.com) and the person who writes it is awesome. She is the person who buys the Misfits onesie for her baby. The one who puts her little girl in a jean jacket with patches on it (band patches. and care bears.) She is what I'm going to be in about four years. She's also SUPER HOT. SUPER. Please go there now and report back here when you've seen the hotness that is Rockstar Mommy.

Have I mentioned I love my job? I have? Ok good. Then I don't need to tell you guys again how awesome it is and how coming her everyday rules. It really, really rules.

My car is being worked on right now, which I hate. I'm spending money on a piece of shitty shit shit car that will die the day I get it back, because that is my luck. This whole 'you have to inspect your car' thing is really annoying.

Yesterday was a very confrontational day for me!

First I fought with the UPS man over the fact that he NEEDS TO PUT THE PACKAGES IN THE MAILROOM. The mailroom is like, two feet away. Walk your fat ass back there, UPS dude.

Then, I fought with some bitchy little girl at the diner over my love of Say Anything. She accused me of 'trying to seem cool' for talking about the movie and saying that Lloyd Dobler is the king of kings and I would seriously do unspeakable things to him. I wanted to stomp her face and tell her to shut up and that I'm old enough to be her mother, but then I remembered that I'M ONLY 21. Why do I keep thinking I'm 40? It's becoming kind of creepy. In any case, I don't have to try to be cool, I am cool. And anyway, the cool kids never interested me, I was always far more interested by the geeks and rejects. Anyway, she was cute and blonde and she was carrying a hideous handbag. I poked fun at her and her shitty taste. Stupid scene girls.

<rant> I hate scene fashion and anything labeled 'scene'. I hate when boys wear girls jeans, I think it's absolutely horrible. I hate the emo hair swoop. I can't tell one of you from the other. You all look exactly the same. I've had my fair share of clothing/makeup disasters (tuck in bra straps! Not cool, just tacky!) and maybe I'm just (not so) old and really bitter, but I can't handle it.

Get over yourselves, stop creating fake band names to spew forth so that you look cool, and get a clue. </rant>

I'm getting my hair cut and highlighted tonight. It's making me ask the question "WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T YOU DIE YOUR HAIR PINK WHEN YOU WERE YOUNGER?!" Come on! I know mom said no way, but fuck, I should have done that shit anyway, while I was working at the really cool health food store that didn't give a shit. Now I'm old and I have a big person job and I'd get fired for having pink hair. Good gracious. You know when people always say to teenagers "Listen, you have all the time in the world to do things like that, like when you're not living under my roof anymore"? You've heard it, I'm sure. That shit is not true. It is a lie. A big, fat, icky, stinky lie. Because when I was 15 and 16, what problem would pink hair ever cause? None. Now I'm older and I have to have one of those job things, in one of them there office buildings, and my chance at having pink hair is long gone. So tonight, it's normal highlights. Which I'm paying for someone to give me as opposed to walking to CVS and then dying my hair in Katie's basement.

I sort of have the urge to yell "GOD YOU'RE RUINING MY LIFE!!" at someone and then slam a door, since I never pulled that shit when I was younger.

If there is anyone who reads this page who is between the ages of 14 and 16 years of age, listen closely:

Dye your hair as many colors as you can before it falls out. Wear the most hideous clothes you can find. (I was pretty good at this one.) Stay out way too late and get high and drunk, a lot. JUST DO IT DAMNIT. When you get old, you won't be able to do things like that because you have to work the next day. Not to mention, it won't be nearly as much fun.

If you have the chance to drive through a cornfield in New Jersey in the middle of August, please do so. Then have a corn fight. Drive home with corn in your purple hair and on your pierced face and in your ugly clothes. Just trust me on this one. You'll talk about it when you get old like me.

2006-07-18T08:37:00.000-05:00

Undergoing some construction, so uh, don't hate me if the site looks like crap for a minute or two.

2006-07-17T14:40:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure where this is going to go, but I'm tired of not writing. So uh, yeah.

In a few days I will write about Philadelphia and the ambulance and me sucking. Not today though. Well maybe today, but not now.

I will write about my weekend.

Friday... Gas Station with Who? Matt Boehm and a few others. Then came the diner. Then I went home and I went to bed. Wanted to go to J's, but didn't.

Saturday... slept in like whoa, then ventured out to AC Moore to buy thread. Ended up buying lots of useless stuff because I CANNOT RESIST THE TEMPTATIONS OF CRAFT SUPPLIES. I am a crafty-type person, but if you saw the contents of my bedroom you'd think I made a living at craft fairs. It's sad. It eats my money. I bought really cool thread, but did I use it? Hell no. I made necklaces which I will never wear. Then I went upstairs, ate two plates of mac and cheese, and went to bed. I was awake for a total of like, 8 hours or so. Wanted to go to J's, but didn't.

Sunday... woke Ivette up by texting her a million times and made her drive to the beach. I LOVE the beach, and it was sunny and hot and wonderful. I wanted a tan. Her boyfriend complained the whole time. I got a patchy weird looking tan. It looks like the tan you have left over after you burn and peel. Not cute. Ivette's cousin came to the beach and took me into the ocean. Then he tried to kiss me which was WEIRD. He's nice but um, I've met him a whopping two times. Then he asked me why I wouldn't kiss him, to which I replied "Just because." ?! Sorry, I don't kiss boys that I don't know, nor do I kiss boys that I don't find attractive. I just don't kiss boys. I'd honestly kiss a girl after two seconds of knowing her, but I just don't kiss boys. Thats it, I'm a lesbian. I know it. I am. Kissing Beto is giving me a serious case of the heebie-jeebie creepy-crawlies. He's actually really cute and extremely nice and I really like what I know of him, but uh. No. *shudder*

A stripe of sunscreen wore off on my nose, so I have a bright red streak smack in the middle of my face. It's hot. No, really, I swear.

Came home, laid around the house and did absolutely nothing, watched Harry Potter on TV twice. Promised I'd go to J's this time around, but didn't.

jalksdjf;alskdfj;aldsfjkaoweiruaiow

Frustration. I wanted to write something decent and all I'm doing is recounting boring run-of-the-mill bullshit in the most bland manner possible.

Um, grr. To say the least.

In Which I Bitch About Racial Division at Great Length

2006-07-13T15:42:00.000-05:00

I hate the word racism. I hate the act of racism, but I had that word too.

I hate the concept of 'racial appropriation'. I think it's complete and total bullshit. I think it's ignorant. I think that people arguing over 'racial appropriation' are perpetuating intolerance and stupidity.

I think telling children that "we're all the same inside" is stupid. We should be telling them that we're not remotely the same. Everyone is different, cultures are different. We should be telling them to appreciate eachother's differences. Encourage them to ask questions openly about one another's cultural differences. We should be telling them to enjoy the fact that they are growing up in an extremely culturally diverse world, and if they wish to learn more about a certain religion or culture, it should be encouraged. Just because we are all so different does NOT mean that we aren't equal. Of course we're all equal.

I think it's lovely to want to preserve one's culture. Keep traditions. All that jazz. I think it's a horrible notion to take someone's traditions and stereotype them and capitalize on them. But ya know what? That’s our society, so that shit is going to happen. People will make money off of WHATEVER THEY CAN. Arguing with the system because you feel the 'ZXY people are stealing from XYZ culture' is idealistic.

The way to combat the watering down of one's culture so it can be capitalized on? When you come into contact with someone's ignorance, show them what your culture is all about. "This is a tradition we have, and this is why." Educate people who are in the dark about you, don't try to keep it a secret or get offended when someone asks. I'm not saying to try and reason with someone who is being an asshole, you should kick them in the teeth for being an asshole and raining on your parade. I'm saying when someone is genuinely curious, or has the complete wrong idea about something you do/say/worship/eat/wear, fill them in. Then they can at least make an informed decision on if they want to be a dick or not.

There is so much technology in this world. There are so many things connecting us to other parts of the world. I think that is a really cool thing. The more contact we have with people who are different from us, the less mystery there is about the far corners of the world. The less mystery, the less fear. The less fear, the less hate. That's the way the cookie crumbles. People fear what they don't understand.

So yes, I think its ridiculous of someone who is black to get angry at someone who is white for 'dressing black' or 'talking black.' I think it's incredibly ignorant of a white person to tell me that a black person 'talks white' because he doesn't sound like he's from the ghetto. Or that someone 'acts white' because he reads books and goes to college and doesn't dress in ghetto fab attire? I think it's all really irresponsible. So what? We all have ridiculous notions of what make us look cool and sound cool. And I don't know if you know this, but um, crazy as it seems, black people read them there books. They go to them there colleges. Do you? Is it really that important for you to point out the black/white aspect? If your panties are in such a bunch over how other people talk and dress and read and learn then you have some serious issues. Focus your time into something constructive.

It must be really threatening to be a minority and have the majority start taking things dear to you and using them. It must kill people to know that people are taking something scared to them and screwing it up and making it cheesy. It's like when you're a punk rock kid and the mainstream starts to catch on to your music and fashion statement and they start watering it down and fucking it up. You get so upset because it's like "Hey! That’s the one thing I had going for me, the one thing that was all mine, and now you're going to take it! It's not fair because you ALREADY have mostly everything. And now you're taking my music and clothes and fucking them all up." I know, I've been there, I was 16 once. At some point you have to realize that what the majority has turned your traditions into is not the same thing you hold dear. It's something people have gotten ahold of, something people are profiting from, and it's not the same thing that you love. See those things as two separate entities. Go ahead and laugh your ass off at how badly they've screwed it up. Laugh at how cool they think they are now. Take satisfaction in the fact that you, you are authentic. You're not better than anybody, you just know what's up. Give people the heads up, let them know the real thing is SO much better.

This might be extremely ignorant of me but I'm going to do it anyway, because it's the only example I can give with any authority. It's like when I was younger and I was such a snotty little alternative shit, and I used to get my panties in a bunch when 'punk' became a fashion statement. And there were all these shitty watered down versions of what I loved. Eventually, I just started making some of my friends listen to the real thing, the original bands. And I told them "Here listen to this. This is what came first. So it's cool if you don't like it, but now at least you know the difference between the two and you know who to thank for your ugly clothes and bad music. They originiated here." Most people enjoyed the original product more than the Money-Maker version. People like quality. So it's not the same as a cultural tradition because it doesn't run that deep for me, but it's an example. People like the original, so show them the original.

People who complain about race and culture and the white people stealing culture, and the black people being ignorant and ghetto, and the asian people can't drive and the indian people all own gas stations and smell bad and half of my family are terrorists - please, find something better to be annoyed about. Those are UNEDUCATED assumptions. You can make those judgements when you know every white, black, asian, indian, middle eastern, european person in the entire world. When you've met EVERY SINGLE person, then you can tell whatever you want. Until that time, until you know every single person on the planet, please shut up. Because you don't know that every Asian person can't drive, because you don't know every Asian person. The only thing you can say about every Black person in this world is that they're black.

The whole racism thing? I don't tolerate it anywhere in my life. I don't laugh at racist jokes, I don't participate in anything that sends the message that being different is bad or that one race is better than another. So if I start getting some racist bullshit comments on here, they will be deleted before anyone gets to see them. Save your time.

So really what I'm getting at is - fuck racial appropriation. Complaining about it is stupid. It perpetuates the idea that everything has to be kept separate and secret. The world advances through taking from cultures and creating a conglomoration of traditions, ideas, values, etc. Be open to learning about people and get comfortable. I don't forsee complete racial division anytime soon, and frankly, I'm happy about that. So adapt or get the fuck out of my way.

Websites that actually make me laugh out loud, which I don't normally do.

2006-07-13T09:18:00.000-05:00

www.finslippy.com - This is a blog written by a woman named Alice. She doesn't update very often, but MY GOD. She is so funny. I found her site through leahpeah.com I think, and once I found it I read every single entry she's written. I'm not kidding. I know. I worship the way she writes.

www.dooce.com - The infamous Heather, yeah yeah. We all know her blog is the official shit. This is not one of those "It's so popular yet so overrated" deals. It's amazingly well-written and delicious. And her daughter is so freaking amazingly adorable.

www.amalah.com - Amy writes the way I think, so it makes me laugh. I can picture exactly what she's saying and how she's saying it, and that makes me almost pee my pants. On a regular basis.

Entries you should go look at because they made me laugh REALLY hard.

http://finslippy.typepad.com/finslippy/2006/01/theres_no_real_.html - Alice talks about Frompy. And the crazy dancers. And it makes me laugh so hard every single time I read it. (Some background for you, Alice has a son named Henry who is around 3 years old I think? This was written while she was living in New York.)

http://finslippy.typepad.com/finslippy/2006/06/and_here_i_thou.html - Alice writes about how the TRICK-ASS HO NANNY HIT HER CHILD. That deserves all caps because SOMEONE HIT HER CHILD.

http://www.dooce.com/archives/daily/05_22_2006.html - Heather talks about her family. They're Southern. Enough said. I love how she can make fun of them but you can tell the entire time that not only does she love them, but that her family is actually very funny and interesting and to me, they seem like great people.

http://www.amalah.com/amalah/2006/06/pool_boy.html - Amy has a baby. He is a cute baby. You must go and see for yourself. Amy sometimes uses ALL CAPS, LIKE I DO. That's because we are cool and you are not. Well no, you are, because you're reading by blog and you are going to go read hers too! (Is there an apostrophe in her's/hers? It's posessive but… I'm not sure. Ah well.)

Ok I'm done whoring other people's websites.

2006-07-11T08:53:00.000-05:00

Cheese is so much better from a can.

Fruit is better soaked in alochol.

2006-07-10T20:41:00.000-05:00

Dear ATO, Sorry! I read your comment but forgot to click 'publish' after I read it!

2006-07-10T16:35:00.000-05:00

Really, he's a toddler. He will understand what you say to him and if he doesn't, he'll ask. Or bite you. Whatever, he'll let you know. So PLEASE, I beg of you. Stop with the baby talk. He's two and half, not stupid. He will learn to speak as you speak to him. Do you want a child who speaks in soft baby-wabey tones? Do you want a child who DEMANDS THAT YOU STOP DOING THAT RIGHT NOW without so much as asking you if you could please stop? If that’s what you'd like then by all means, go ahead and speak to your child like he's an animal, it's totally cool. If you'd like a child with a vocabulary of more than 3 words, then I suggest you put a cork in it. If you'd like a child who can actually tell you what he wants instead of whining, then I suggest you set an example for him of how to do that. That’s how kids learn, ya know. Example. 'Do as I say, not as I do" doesn't work with two and a half year olds.

Once again. Toddler, not stupid.

*Ok listen, I'm not a parent. I know this. Parenting is really hard stuff. I understand that you can't always be a stellar example, you can't always explain everything and answer all the questions and lay it out so your toddler can understand it. Everyone gets snippy sometimes and we get rushed, etc. etc. It just kills me to know that people talk to their children like this ALL THE TIME. Like they can't understand you! I know for a fact that they'll understand the vocab that they're raised with. People underestimate their kids.*

2006-07-07T15:01:00.000-05:00

http://leahpeah.com/blog/posts/2006/07/743

Slkdjf;laseija;wiejralsdmfnaslkdjfa;ie

2006-07-07T14:51:00.000-05:00

Craving green olives. Must have green olives. I NEED them and I'm totally stopping at Whole Foods on the way home to buy some.

Which brings me to the question: Why are green olives always stuffed with pimento? I mean, it doesn't taste like anything when a teeny tiny little bit of it is stuffed into an olive. And when I think 'stuffed' I think of something containing cheese and bacon and crabmeat and everything delicious in this world. When I hear 'stuffed olive' I think 'stuffed chock full o' goodness', not 'kind of stuffed with a little flap of red skin from a pepper.' It's very disappointing.

It's not that I mind the pimento. It just seems so… wasteful and useless. Be gone ye pimento! Leave me nothing but pure, unadulterated green olive goodness.

Good lord, I'm sorry this thing has been so damn boring lately. I need some excitement. My life revolves around wanting to nap really badly and being ridiculously hungry at all times.

I just wrote an entry about olives. OLIVES. I am 21 years old and all I have to write about is olives.

2006-07-07T14:11:00.000-05:00

I am always tired. Constant, unbearable sleepiness.

I was thinking about it recently, and I decided to keep track of how many times a day I say to myself "GOD I wish I could take a nap right now."

It ended up being a lot more often than I thought it was. All day I'm tired. As soon as I remotely relax or lay down anywhere I fall asleep within a minute or two. I sleep all night and wake up positively exhausted. If I go out to eat or to the mall with a friend or anything like that, the whole time I just keep thinking to myself "I need to lay down like nowish." I can still have fun but I REALLY have to force it.

I've tried lots of things to help. Eating healthier was good for me but did nothing for my energy. I had a brief stint of exercising, but I lost too much weight. It didn't help anyway. I've tried getting less sleep, I've tried getting more sleep.

I just wanted to put that out there in case I fall asleep soon and never wake up. That way my faithful readers can inform everyone that I died because of the Crazy Sleepy Disease.

2006-07-06T11:08:00.000-05:00

Are martinis delicious?

I've never had one before. They seem so tempting yet so vile all at the same time. I mean, in theory, it sounds like they'd taste like rubbing alcohol.

Does anyone out there enjoy martinis? Do they taste like rubbing alcohol? Am I completely insane? And wtf is vermouth?

2006-07-06T09:56:00.000-05:00

Dear Internet,

I have a friend who is desperately searching for a new job as she is stuck in the Hell that is known as Daycare (and she is a toddler teacher with a child who CAN'T WALK in her room and who can't nap on a cot because HE NEEDS A CRIB.)

I know none of you care unless you've worked in a daycare center. If you've been a teacher then you should be able to understand the horror that is 18 walking and running toddlers in a room and one child who cannot walk. Trampled much?

Anyway… she is looking for an office-type job. If anyone knows of anything, please let me know. The girl is incredible and can do pretty much anything. She is totally dedicated/bordering on workaholic.

Love,
Ashley

Moving right along. Bento Box B was totally delicious yesterday.

Life has been so boring, so I apologize for having nothing entertaining to report.

2006-07-05T14:44:00.000-05:00

The hunger, MY GOD the hunger.

I've been starving all day because I left my lunch at home. So far all I've had is cake. And I just ordered from Sultan Wok because they are officially *the shit* as they allow you to order online with a credit card. No cash needed, no talking on the phone! It's glorious.

My tummy is all "HEY UP THERE, FEED ME BEFORE I START TO DEVOUR YOU FROM THE INSIDE OUT!!!" and I'm all "Shut up tummy, people are walking by and avoiding my gaze because everything will be fine as long as they DON'T LOOK THE CRAZY IN THE EYE."

Oh salmon sashimi, how I love you so very much. I still haven't found out what that damn ginger dressing is that they put in their salads!!! Ugh.

In other news:

Yesterday I was supposed to go to a glorious picnic. Instead of going to said picnic, I slept for most of the day.

I slept in conditions that could only be described as "pure hell." I will describe for you now.

1- Room was FREEZING because of air-conditioning (which I normally love but this time it was slightly out of hand.)
2- I put a sweater on because I'm cold. I leave the air-conditioner on. This is very comfy.
3- Power goes out after I have fallen asleep.
4- No one is home to turn power back on, and I am in a coma, therefore my room (which is on the top floor) proceeds to become hotter and hotter by the very second.

5- Wake up four hours later feeling like death.

I honestly still feel pretty ill today. Nauseated and such…

This will not prevent me in partaking of Bento Box B. Oh, I promise you that.

2006-07-03T12:11:00.000-05:00

Ok really Ashley? Enough is enough with the beef jerky already! Eat something else!

Why does the beef jerky have to call to me from the vending machine saying "You know you want to buy me and eat me in 2 minutes flat… you know you want to spend your hard earned money buying beef jerky… you know you do…."

2006-07-03T09:08:00.000-05:00

Today was a good day because I woke up AND I managed to remember not to go to work in my pajamas. Score 1 for Team Ashley!

Today is a very sad day because my best friend Christine left this morning for Hawaii where she is moving. Like, to live there. Forever.

Today is also sort of lame because there is NO ONE in the office. Out of over one hundred employees who work here, 22 of them are here today. I am one of them. When I pulled in this morning, I was the only car in the whole parking lot.

So because I'm bored, I'm going to be a 'boring dumbass waste of bandwidth'.

Story time:

I am half Italian and half Lebanese. I am telling you this because it creates an interesting dilemma. My dad (who is Italian) is EXTREMELY DARK SKINNED. (Again with the capital letters!) He is so dark that if a fairly dark black person were to compare their skin tone to his, my dad would not be lighter, just a little more reddish. My mom (who is Lebanese) is very fair skinned. Freckles, pale, etc. She doesn't look pale because she pays people to spray her with orange paint, I mean a fake tan, but I assure you, she's actually REALLY pale.

Blah blah boring. Ok so her + him = me. I am pale but not white. I'm… yellow? Everyone says "Ashley you're OLIVE not yellow!" but people, I'm totally yellow. That’s cool because I don't mind being yellow.

My dilemma is this: My whole life, I've never had a sunburn. I used to tan when I was little, but as I grew older my skin just sort of… stopped. Sun does nothing! No tan! No burn! Just yellow.

Then last year, all of sudden, I went to the beach and I got a SUNBURN. Me! Sunburn! No tan, just burn. When the intense pain and itching stopped, it was a tan for a day and then it peeled off to reveal… yellow.

I went to the beach on Saturday and was on the beach from 11:00am to 3:45pm. I wore SPF 8 which I only applied once. (you don't care, I know) but I GOT NOTHING! Not even a littttle tan line. Nothin!

Wtf skin? Somehow the pasty pale Lebanese woman and the reddish tanned Italian dude created a child with indestructible yellow skin.

Do you think I could be a superhero?

2006-06-29T14:49:00.000-05:00

SQUEEEEE!!!

Much thanks to Anonymous The Original, Cosy, and woodlayson. Ya'll made my day!!! You own me.

I almost feel silly now for being upset.

I love when awesome people completely overshadow the assholes!

<3<3<3<3<3

2006-06-29T11:05:00.000-05:00

Anonymous the Original!!! Where are you??? I need kind reassuring words AND I NEED THEM NOW. Help me please!

I make myself sick sometimes with this co-dependent period crapola.

2006-06-29T10:49:00.000-05:00

Ok, negative commenter totally won! I am kind of boring. No one cares about WaWa. And I also will not stop harping on the negative comment for the rest of the day. I might cry about it. Just warning you.

Dwelling. Harping. More dwelling.

I'm even more astonished that someone that I don't even know, (or maybe I do, I dunno) came by and commented on my boring little blog that gets maybe 1 comment per post from the same (AMAZINGLY WONDERFUL) person (WHO BOOSTS MY SELF-ESTEEM WITH HIS KIND WORDS). I can't get over it.

I am totally losing my shit.

In fact, there is a man here giving me FREE SANDWICHES!! today, and I still can't be happy about it because of the Negative Commenter! FREE SANDWICHES!!!! That is how badly I am losing my shit.

I'm SO GOOD at losing my shit. And also at using CAPITAL LETTERS.

2006-06-29T10:31:00.000-05:00

Comments:
You should do everyone a favor, and jump off a bridge, you're a fucking idiot and your
'blog' is a complete waste of bandwidth. end of your boring story, dumbass.
# posted by Anonymous : 9:03 AM

A NEGATIVE COMMENTER!

I've hit the big time.

Can we have hot steamy sex and make lots of negative little babies?

By the way, good call on choosing to remain anonymous. You must have the biggest balls of them all! And I'm also glad to you had time to stop by and read my boring story.

Really, it's people like you that I write for.

2006-06-29T10:06:00.000-05:00

Right now I'm reading a website full of the worst baby names discussions ever. Someone went through a bunch of message boards about baby names, copied the dumbest people's posts and commented on them. It's making me laugh so hard. You should click this: http://www.notwithoutmyhandbag.com/babynames/ and read it and love it.

I'm going to confess: I am one of those lame people who *cough*already knows what they want to name their baby*cough*. Lame lame lame!!!

And just so you know, I was NEVER that girl who wrote "Mrs. Flaming Douchebag" with hearts all over her notebook in highschool. At least I've got that going for me.

In case you were curious: Lily for a girl. Tyler or Jack for a boy. Tyler is sort of pansy name… but I know a badass motherfucker named Tyler. And yes, I know, Johnny Depp's kids are named Lily and Jack. Which totally rains on my parade. Because I like those names a lot. Lily was my great-grandma's nickname (her given name was Leila pronounced Lay-la, like 'you got me on my knees beggin' darlin' please etc. etc.) and Jack like Mr. Kerouac.

So, Mr. Depp, you and I seem to have the same taste, but you can suck it.

2006-06-29T07:59:00.000-05:00

I should not, under any circumstances, be allowed to drive when I am on the rag.

It is dangerous for all involved.

This morning I pulled into WaWa to get some food for work today, and as I was pulling in I stopped to scope out a parking spot. As I'm sitting there, this HUGE van starts backing out of a parking space that is about 6ft in front of me. He obviously didn't even LOOK around him or anything because I had been sitting there. He starts turning the ass-end of the van in my direction. He gets so close to my car while barely being out of the parking spot, I honk, he doesn't stop. I know he's not going to stop until he is out of said parking spot and he is Mr. King Douchebag so I freak out. I start backing my car up (pretty quickly I might because AssholeMan was pulling out so fast you would've thought someone told him they would chop his nuts off if he didn't GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAWA PARKING LOT LIKE NOWISH.)

Problem is, I panic so I don't even look behind me when I'm backing up. There was a car behind me who was pretty far behind and they gave me a little beep to say "Hey yo, I'm back here too." But the AssholeDude made me catch his asshole-ness! I totally could have hit that car! I didn't, but I totally could have!

So, being the calm and level-headed gal I just so happen to be, I speed out of the WaWa parking lot with reckless abandon as soon as I can and follow AssholeVan screaming obscenities at him from my car, as if he can hear me.

Now, in my own defense, AssholeVan happened to be going the same direction I was going ANYWAY, but still.

And now I'm cranky because I have no food to shove in my face all day.

I should seriously be locked in a room for the next 5 days.

2006-06-28T07:46:00.000-05:00

I hate this motherfucking website and their inability to function properly on my work computer.

Fuck you. And then fuck you some more. In the butt.

2006-06-27T15:53:00.000-05:00

Just so you all know, this post will be fixed AS SOON AS I HAVE A COMPUTER THAT DOESN'T SUCK ASS.

Blogger.com at work always does this thing where it just… stops working. I usually email my posts however you can't do that if you're going to include pictures.

So I had pretty pictures, and in the middle of writing the post blogger shat the bed (because of my computer.)

So then I had just to email the post.

I know how to post pictures I'm not totally illiterate. Promise. It will get fixed.

I want to smash everything within a mile radius of me.

So if anyone reads this page between now and when it gets fixed, sorry.

Buy me things.

2006-06-27T09:59:00.000-05:00

Today is one of those days that I refer to in my head as a 'dark day.'

Its one of those days where everything I repeatedly try to escape catches up with me all at once. I have nightmares all night and wake up with a sense of dread and overwhelming depression and sadness. I don't want to get out of bed, I just want to cease existing.

When I'm up, I'm up. When I'm down, I'm really really really down.

I wish I could articulate this a little bit better but it's really hard. Its just this terrible pit in my stomach. I feel almost… ashamed and guilty? But for no reason at all whatsoever. I feel like throwing myself in front of a bus would be a huge relief.

Now I don't want to get bombarded with bullshit about suicide and all I have to live for, because I know all that. I would never kill myself and I know that in a few days I'll feel better. I have really bad days sometimes and this page is just a forum for me to spew all of my feelings as they happen. So this is what it feels like for me to be depressed. This is what goes through my head.

I walk around all day thinking that I would just love to sleep forever. Waking up sucks. It's too much effort. Throwing myself in front of a bus would be WAY too much effort. So I'll just… drift around all day.

Have you ever gotten the chills from something creepy? If you have, do you know the feeling right before the chill runs through your body? That is the feeling I have all day. It's not just mental, it's physical too.

Fuck this.

2006-06-26T14:48:00.000-05:00

This is going to be random because I say so.

My weekend was the best weekend I've had in so long and it was because of redheads.

I got thanked for spending my whole weekend with the man I'm going to marry someday.

I was so happy to see him that I almost cried. I'm glad I didn't cry because there were people there that I didn't know very well.

I wish I was back at Friday Night Dinner right now.

I hate the United States Armed Forces because they stole my boyfriend and they won't give him back. And they keep trying to keep him in TEXAS or worse, Iraq, for even longer.

Ya know, Army People, he's already been over there once. For a whole year. And I had to talk to him on the phone with all these annoying delays and shit. And I sent him letters almost everyday for 6 months and he only got 2 of them. That is not ok.

So listen, Mr. Asshole I mean Bush, I WANT MY BOYFRIEND BACK AND I'D APPRECIATE IT IF YOU'D GIVE HIM BACK NOW. I get very cranky when I don't get what I want immediately. He has done enough for you. Could you please maybe send your twin daughters in his place? I'm pretty sure he's going to be a more productive part of society than the two of them combined.

He's coming home again in a month, this time for more than 3 days. That's awesome.

Its really nice to go to the bar with old friends and LAUGH YOUR ASS OFF.

Its really fun to go to the bar wearing a pink shirt that says "I'M WITH STUPID…" on it, complete with a picture of two very disturbing faces.

New Jersey just isn't safe without you.

Someday we will have babies and all 40 of them will have red hair. And then I'll be happy.

I am an asshole...

2006-06-25T19:55:00.000-05:00

...because I read this page more than anyone else does.

God I love days when I actually have change in my purse.

2006-06-23T15:11:00.000-05:00

Shut up.

Emo Again.

2006-06-23T12:39:00.000-05:00

I saw her picture and nearly threw up. She looks like Kate Bosworth. She had pigtails. Braided ones. And it didn't look bad. It looked good. And she has my glasses.

Its really hard to fix with things with you because I can honestly say to myself that you would be better off seeing me less and having me depend on you less and unless I just stop talking to you altogether shit just isn't going to happen. And I know I won't stop talking to you because I'm selfless but not that selfless and with you I'm mainly selfish. Its not fair but as I've said, I've adopted the motto "I’m not sure when the world decided I had to be reasonable or fair, but they were sorrily mistaken."

So I guess I'll just almost throw up knowing that she'd be a lot better for you. And that she is definitely the one calling your cell phone or texting you when you smile. And I like to see you smile so I won't say anything and make the moment awkward. I'll just die a little inside, it's totally ok. I'm pretty sure there isn't too much going on in there lately.

Why is it always a blonde who has dyed her hair brown that gets the boys I like the most?

Its funny that this post can almost function for two separate people at the same time. I'm only talking about one but it definitely applies to the other.

I have an endless capacity for love. That’s all you need to know.

Hey Lady

2006-06-22T15:58:00.000-05:00

This is a letter I would write to Lady-Who-Shall-Remain-Nameless-Because-She-Is-My-Coworker if it wouldn't be totally weird of me.

Dear Lady-Who-Shall-Remain-Nameless-Because-You-Are-My-Coworker,

You are wonderful!

You bake cookies and collect toys for foster children and you always thank me profusely for just doing my job. In other words, you own me and the rest of the world.

You are awesome and everyone should be more like you!

So thanks for walking by my desk every morning and night to say Hi and Bye.

No-Name-Lady, you rock!

Sincerely, The weirdo at the front desk.

This is why people start smoking crack.

2006-06-22T13:09:00.000-05:00

Must. Stop. Spending. Money. Someone. Please. Pry. Credit. Card. From. Clammy. Little. Hand.

Jeep fabric Novelty handcuffs for purse strap Um, switchblade comb because it came with novelty handcuffs. Fabric from JoAnns (hot pink and lime green leopard print, plain black, black with huge cherries) Fabric from J&O Fabrics (Alexander Henry tattoo fabric) Interfacing and stabilizer and this other stabilizer THAT I DON'T NEED Cheese that comes in a CAN FOR CHRIST'S SAKE

Someone help me. I can't stop. It's like I NEED to spend my hard earned cash on USELESS SHIT THAT I'M NEVER GOING TO USE.

Plus I have to hit up ACMoore tonight to buy hemp that I actually DO need. So that's more money that I'm spending.

Oh and Katie? Are you out there? I have two things to tell you:

1- Carnival is on right now. I think we should go back to the scene of the crime. The crime being the infamous smoked-too-much-pot-walked-way-too-far incident. Also the first time you met Mike. Or was that at Hamilton West when their band played? I forget.

2- I blame YOU and only YOU for the fact that I am going to be living in a box very, very soon. J&O Fabrics has my paycheck. And my first born child. And my soul.

So um… comment me or email me or send up smoke signals or some shit.

Eat your heart out

2006-06-21T13:40:00.000-05:00

We had Make Your Own Ice-Cream Sundae day at work. Easy Cheese, Cookies, Sundaes. Need I say more?

drool

2006-06-21T11:57:00.000-05:00

Today my boss sent me and two co-workers an awesome box of cookies just to say 'thanks for doing your job.'

Um. Ok. So I fully intend on voting for my Boss to become the President of the US when the time comes. Who's with me on this one? Anyone? Anyone? Free cookies for all?

I know you're going to kick me in the head if I say it again….

But sometimes you just have to push a little too far, so I'm gonna say it…

Again…

GOD I LOVE MY JOB.

I also love cookies. A lot.

Cheese Product.

2006-06-21T10:24:00.000-05:00

I started my day today by squirting Easy Cheese directly into my mouth.

Can you believe I'm still single?

Car. Ni. Vore.

2006-06-20T14:49:00.000-05:00

Does anyone else get sad when you realize all the Beef Jerky is gone and the only thing left in the bag is that little white packet that you're not allowed to eat?

2006-06-20T11:34:00.000-05:00

I miss my kids. I miss them so much that I think of their chubby faces and it feels almost like someone has ripped my heart from my chest and set it on fire.

I'm so damn melodramatic.

By 'my kids' I mean the kids I used to care for when I did the hardest job in the universe.

Internet, I used to be a daycare teacher. And I LOVED IT. I hated it with a passion, but I LOVED IT.

I've done a great deal of jobs but I stayed with daycare the longest. I adored everything about being a teacher. I hated everything about my bosses/company politics/not getting paid.

You see, being a teacher in a daycare center is one of the weirdest things a person can experience. You care for people's children as if they are your own for 9 hours a day, 5 days a week. You play with them, hug them, love them when they cry, kiss their boo-boos, change their NASTY INDIAN FOOD DIAPERS, teach them about the world, rub their backs as they fall asleep, etc. They are your sole responsibility yet they aren't your kids and you know NOTHING about their lives outside of those walls. So here you are, caring for someone else's kid even though the most you'll get out of a parent is "Hi we're in a rush." so you really don't know a damn thing about them, and you grow SO ATTACHED to THEIR pride and joy.

So you get this whole classroom full of kids that you adore in different ways, and some of those kids you JUST CAN'T STAND (and why do the shitty kids always have the cool parents?) and everything is cool. EXCEPT for your bosses. The evil Owner and Director of the school you are working at. And your evil bitchy co-workers that didn't realize that DAYCARE IS NOT THE CAREER FOR YOU IF YOU DON'T LIKE KIDS. Dick. And those two sets of people are enough to make you want to die.

But then you see Bella's chubby face and her first tooth came in and the teething is over so she's finally smiling again and her little hair is in a palm tree on the top of her little head and she's laughing at you and drooling, and that makes it worth it again.

But soon enough the Director or Owner or Co-worker does something you feel is compromising the kid's well being and its one thing if they piss you off, but it is quite another if they do something to your kids. So you get angry. And suddenly now this has become a company policy and you have to follow the dumb rule or you get fired even though forcing every toddler to go outside EVERY DAY when it is BELOW FREEZING is stupid and Tatiana has ASTHMA and she could end up in the hospital from that! And her Dad is bringing a note tomorrow because the policy changed last night and he wasn't aware but just keep her inside today because what good is a note if the damage is already done, dickheads?! God forbid you keep a child in your office for a half hour. Because Kids? Ew. I became the Director of a daycare center just for the hell of it! I hate kids!

And then you realize that you get paid SHIT for doing one of the most important jobs like, ever. You're acting as mother from age 6wks to 6yrs for 9 hours a day 5 days a week. And then you get fed up and tell your boss to go fuck herself.

I love my job now, and I love what I get paid. Its just a serious shame that I get paid more for doing this than I did busting my ass taking care of people's children. It just seems so ridiculous.

Anyway that turned into a rant when really all I wanted to say is that I really really miss being a daycare teacher. I miss having a classroom full of kids. I even miss almost dying from the stress of it all everyday.

I miss my toddlers and infants who are now preschoolers and potty training. My little Bella and Taylor and Melanie! Oh goodness Melanie. And Aidan, and Sai, and Lexie with her Inchie. And Ryan and Patrick, and MAX!!! When will I ever be around so many babies at one time ever again? Never. I'd do it part time but all centers are closed by the time I get out of work here. :(

2006-06-19T13:51:00.000-05:00

Internet, if you could see what I'm wearing today, you would have one question for me. That question would go something like:

Dear Ashley,

Why? What possessed you to wear that ugly fleece sweatshirt over your pretty black dress? Why are you bundled up like it is the middle of January when it’s the middle of June and you should be rejoicing the warm weather with shorts and flip-flops?

Sincerely,
The Internet

My response to that question would go something like this:

Dear Internet,

The reason I am wearing this ugly fleece over my pretty black dress is because I work in an office. Do you know what that means, Internet? It means that the air conditioning is so cold all the time that I could probably leave a box of ice-pops on my desk without fear of them melting, but rather fearing they would get freezer burn.

The funny part of this, Internet, is that everyone who walks through says "My GOD it's freezing in here." and I've heard no less than 4billion people complain about how cold it is. So I ask you, who is controlling the air conditioning? And why are they making it impossible to get comfortable? If everyone walks through clutching their sweaters to their chests in an effort to ward off hypothermia, who decided it would be a good idea to make it a lovely -40 degrees? Who, I ask you?!

So, Internet, that is why I am wearing this ugly fleece over my pretty black dress. And let me tell ya, the fleece is helping a little, but I'm still an Ashleycicle.

Love Always,
The girl with the highbeams.

2006-06-16T16:09:00.000-05:00

You know that point you reach on a gorgeous, sunny, Friday afternoon, when you have about a million things to do and you just want to get out of work as soon as possible? That point where you just might rip someone's leg off and feed it to them if you don't get to leave in the next 2.34 seconds? That point? You what I'm talking about.

That is me right now. As we speak I am ripping someone's leg off.

OH SCORE! Boss man says it's time to leave.

Peace out, yo.

2006-06-16T15:24:00.000-05:00

Ok so scrapped trying to fix old bag and have come up with an adorably wonderful New And Improved bag. It should turn out nicely since it’s the kind of bag I'm good at making.

The small child erupting from my chin is still well beneath the service. I think I can feel it kicking.

2006-06-16T12:16:00.000-05:00

Today is Friday. I changed the look of the page again. I'm finally happy with it. Hooray!
I have a huge zit brewing on my chin. The kind of zit that happens to be buried so deeply that no one can see it however I can feel it which makes me think it might start talking at any moment. I'll keep you guys updated.

I made a handbag for my friend Deanna last night because I'd only met her twice before I puked all over myself and she offered to help me clean myself up. She's good like that. So I wanted to make her something to thank her and also so that I seem like less of a loser. The bag came out pretty shitty. I was really sad. I'm going to try to salvage it today but if not I'm going to Joann's and buying more of the fabric she likes and I'm going to keep on trying until I get this shit right.

You see, Internet, I am slightly… unbalanced? I am an extremely happy and loving person while at the same time being full of rage and hatred. It really makes for a good time. The problem really starts when I'm working on a project and it doesn't go the way it's supposed to; the way I had so carefully planned out. Things take an unexpected turn and suddenly I start breaking things with a hammer and cursing and my head spins entirely around and I start speaking Aramaic.

I'm the strangest kind of perfectionist. The worst kind. Everything needs to be perfect, however if it turns out terribly I don't keep plugging along until I get it right. That would make me somewhat normal, and well, that would just be silly. I just abandon all hope of ever being a productive human being, curse myself for having no talent, and speed off to the diner where I complain that I suck because that ONE SEAM IS CROOKED. I do not follow through. I expect everything to be absolutely perfect the first time around and if I can't get it right the first time then it's not worth trying.

I'm destined for success, wouldn't you say?

The good news is that because this particular project is for someone else and I've already told her I was almost done with it, I have to follow through and keep at it. And I'm getting slightly better with the whole idea although as I'm typing this my heart is racing and my palms are sweating. And everytime the phone rings I want to throw it across the room.

Maybe I need some sort of support group?

Anyway, I'll keep everyone updated on the status of the small child growing out of my chin and the bag from hell. :)

2006-06-14T08:19:00.000-05:00

Ok so yeah.

I've spent the past two days puking my brains out and shaking on the bathroom floor.

Withdrawal, you ask? No no. Food poisoning my friend. Food poisoning.

It kicked off on Monday night at my friend Matt's house. I threw up ALL OVER MYSELF in front of a ROOM FULL OF PEOPLE and I have never been so embarassed. Ever. I wanted to die. I proceeded to spend the night unable to drive myself home so I puked repeatedly into various container's in Matt's room, and when I could actually make it to the bathroom I camped out there until his roomies needed to shower for work. Needless to say I'm sure Matt's room smells like my barf and that makes me feel like dying. No, seriously. I'm not kidding.

I finally got fed up with puking at Matt's house so I grabbed a few plastic bags and headed for my car. I threw up five times while driving home. Into a bag in my lap. It was disgusting.

I threw up all day at home. I had to call out of work AGAIN for christ's sake, which made the whole day ever worse because I hate calling out of work. I don't want to get fired. I like my job. No, love my job.

I was throwing up so much that all that was coming up was this bright yellow stomach juice that burned my throat and tongue.

You want these details, I know it, don't pretend like you could've gone through your day without knowing.

So I went to the doctor last night thinking she couldn't do anything for me and I just wanted to go to get a note for work. When I got there she lost her shit and told me to go to the ER. I had been puking for nearly 24 hours at that point, and hadn't had anything to eat or drink in as long. Little did I know that when your muscles start twitching thats a bad sign. Dehydration can lead to heart failure! Who knew?

So I got poked and full of fluids and then they sent me on my merry way. I've stopped barfing and now I'm at work! I feel like crap on a stick. My muscles hate me and I'm still dizzy and I need rest but god damnit I will not lose my job! I will not! I brought in a doctor's note plus my receipt from the doctor that says she sent me to the ER. Covering my ass = good idea. :)

So, feel free to leave me comments letting me know that you're glad I didn't experience heart failure.

2006-06-12T13:29:00.000-05:00

I need to move out of the house and Chrissy is no longer interested is finding an apartment with me because she had a lovely stroke of luck (YAY for Chrissy!). This means that I now need to look for someone who needs a roommate or is renting a room in their home, etc. etc. because there is no WAY I can afford my own one bedroom.

So, Internet. We are buds. Help me out, please.

So if anyone out there knows of someone looking for a roommate, please let me know!!!

EMAIL - Herhipslikeseashells@hotmail.com
AIM - OUCH backwall
PHONE - Haha, hell no.

I am desperate here, people.

Desperate.

2006-06-07T19:59:00.000-05:00

This is an emo post so don't read it if you don't like mushy stuff. This alone feeling is creeping up again. I've been doing so well recently, but I guess what I was really doing was ignoring the fact that I'm always sad. I was forcing myself to just not talk about it because I don't want to be "that girl." You know what I'm talking about. "That girl." Ew. I am starved for attention. Its pathetic. No, really. PATHETIC. I feel completely invisible (which just so happens to be a recurring theme in my life, and Jonah put it the best when he wrote "I'm Not Really Here") and I hate this feeling. I want it to go away but I'm not sure how to shake it. I do things for myself and by myself all the time. Instead of feeling accomplished and happy with myself I just feel like I have no one to show my accomplishments to. I'm not sure what else to do, and I'm sure that's because I'm stuck in a rut but this rut has been going on for 21 years and somethings got to fucking change here. I'm happy with a lot of things in my life. My job, I have a car, and I actually have money. Chrissy is a great friend, and J of course is.. well he's everything. But that doesn't change the fact that Im always alone. And that Chrissy and J are my whole world but they have their own lives. Ah well. I don't know where the fuck this is going other than "I'm miserable and I hate myself" so i suppose this post is really pointless. So here is the second part of the post where I show how I'm mentally ill. Because this won't make much sense to anyone reading this. I still read your horoscope everyday. All I've ever wanted is possibly the most selfish thing ever. I just want to be chased after. In that moment where I lose my shit because I always do, I don't want someone to throw their hands up and say "Well if thats what you want." like they always do. I want someone to ask why and to argue with me and to ask me to stay because you love having me around and you wouldn't have it any other way. Stop letting me leave. The only reason I'm leaving is because I think thats what you want. Because I'm paranoid and that is how I work. I know you don't want me around so I'll leave before you have to say it. You won't have to do it all the time. Just once. I know I'm tiring. It is too much work to constantly reassure someone. But I promise it wouldn't be constant. This isn't directed at any one person. This is to every person who has let me walk out of their lives without so much as a "why?" and probably breathed a sigh of relief after I had gone. I really can't stand myself and I don't blame everyone for hating my guts.

2006-06-06T11:31:00.000-05:00

I just opened notepad to start writing my entry.

Now i've forgotten what I wanted to say.

I hate today.

2006-06-01T09:44:00.000-05:00

So I've learned the following:

Falling asleep in your car by accident on your lunch break in ridiculous heat with the windows up = very bad idea.

Microsoft Word sucks. It was such a pain in my ass this morning. I wanted to kill it.

I have cramps like you would not believe, and its making me want to murder.

Today Chrissy found an apartment that is slightly out of our price range but it's in Plainsboro which means it's SO much closer to work. I told her I can't afford it and she said she'd pick up the extra $100 every month. I don't know if I can deal with that. I mean she does make more money than I do and she will be getting money from Jay but she has a child to support. I just don't know. It's so confusing.

Plus I was really excited about living closer to J and the dog, but now I'll be so so much further away.

GAH I hate being confused.

Also, does anyone out there in InternetWorld have any ideas on how I could make a few extra bucks? I mean there's the obvious choice of a second job, but that is really difficult for me because I get out of my regular job so late. Help! Please!

2006-05-31T10:06:00.000-05:00

Lots of things.

Family reunion on Saturday was Lame with a capital L because half of the people in my family are dead so it was a really small reunion compared to the good ol' days.

There were LOTS of chubby babies, which was cool, but I didn't really KNOW said babies so I couldn't pinch their chubby little baby thighs or squish their chubby baby faces. What is the use of being around babies if you can't torture them? Hmm?

For the older and much more annoying (although extremely fucking adorable) children, I was somehow coerced into face painting. I don't remember ever having agreed to this, which is making me think that I may have some sort of Dissociatve Disorder. You know, my other personality agreed to paint faces. I should not be held accountable! And shouldn't I at least be allowed to get completely hammered before I paint faces?

We stayed there for WAY too long destroying every chance I had at having a somewhat decent weekend.

<rant> Reunion was at Rosedale Park in Hopewell. I've been to that park before. Not only had I been to said park, but I had a friend who lived very close to it, and I used to drive to her house all the time. I KNOW HOW TO GET THERE. But the family decided to use some effed up directions that were so unneccesarily difficult it made my eyeballs bleed. Those directions were so UNBELIEVABLY INEFFECTIVE I just don't understand how anyone, anywhere, ever over the course of humanity could ever think they were remotely correct.

No one listens to me because I'm the child who doesn't-do-laundry-everyday-nor-does-she-make-her-bed-therefore-she-is-the-antichrist so we drove around for an hour in Bumblefuck otherwise known as Hopewell Township, until FINALLY we come back to Federal City Road and I say TAKE THAT ROAD and my pop-pop says "Hey, I think thats the road. Lets go that way." and everyone acts like I WASN'T SAYING THAT THE ENTIRE TIME.

Then, when it's obviously time to leave the picnic because we've been there for five hours and i'm covered in face paint and little kid sweat, my brother is nowhere to be found because he wandered off and found some girls and he was probably getting head in the woods. On any normal day, I wouldn't care what the hell my brother was doing or where he was, but on this day we needed to find him so we could LEAVE the godforsaken park and so that I could attend a party for a friend's daughter's fifth birthday which I was horribly late to at that point. Bro finally comes back, we leave. I tell mom to just take federal city road and get on 95.

She tells me she wants to take the way we came. You know, the way that got us lost for an hour. My mom, she can be so brilliant at times. So she proceeds to get us lost ONCE AGAIN, this time knowing that I'm HOURS late for a birthday party. A half hour into being lost she says "Do you think I should turn around?" *DEATH* We end up making a HUGE circle in Pennington, and we finally get on 95 to get home.</rant>

So yeah. I made it to the birthday party and hung out for a bit, then went to J's house and passed out. It was a totally Lame day. Capital L.

Sunday was cool because J and I went to see XMen and then we went out to eat and then we watched Mike Patton videos on the computer and drooled over the sex that is Patton. I'm drooling just thinking about him and his insanity and his stuffed Kitten on his keyboard and the sticker. Oh the sticker! I fell asleep to Mr. Bungle and while that may not be conducive to having pleasant dreams, it still means that Mike Patton will be a part of whatever nightmare I'm having, and thats ok with me.

I just zoned for five minutes because I was thinking of him. Haha.

Monday was a day full of nothing. Lots and lots of nothing.

YesterdaY I realized a few things:

1- My boss is Awesome. Really, really awesome.

2- I love getting presents in the mail. It rules.

3- My obsession with wanting to eat everything that appeals to me (by this I mean objects that aren't edible.) is so weird. I just want to lick everything! That is so strange.

4- I am super jealous of a certain girl visiting from Florida. 100% jealous of her. She is aboslutely gorgeous. She totally made out with my best friend, and she also made out with dude-whom-I-wanted-to-sha-na-na and I am jealous. Even though I'm jealous of her, I have no hard feelings towards her and would never treat her as such. The reason I'm happy to realize this is because it means a few things. It means that A- I'm not over dude-whom-I-wanted-to-sha-na-na and I'm glad to have something to show me that because it means I need to work a little harder on not giving a fuck. B- That before, I wasn't just being a jealous Asshole with Dee. I knew she was a cunt piece of shit who should rot in hell, but I kept telling myself that it was just jealousy. Well it wasn't, and I should have trusted my instincts, but this helps me see that I'm not a jealous asshole. What I was feeling towards her wasn't jealousy, it was nervousness, regret, and hatred. And I should have listened to myself. and C- This is what pure jealousy feels like. Now that I know it, I can deal with it. Cool.

I had more to say but I forget so I'll just post it later.

2006-05-26T11:02:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I just ranted for a stupid amount of time. I used the phrase 'just because' way too often, as well as the words 'stupid' 'fuck' 'opinions' 'people' and 'crticize'.

So now, on to a normal post.

I bought this awesome fabric yesterday at reprodepot.com and I can't wait until it gets delivered. I want to just lick it and shove all 5 yards of fabric into my mouth and swallow them. mmmmfabric. I will give you the links now!

http://www.reprodepot.com/skbtp.html

http://www.reprodepot.com/hrgldfp.html

http://www.reprodepot.com/minipineapples.html

*drool* Why is my inital reaction to eat the things I think are awesome? Is that weird? Please don't answer that.

This weekend is another family function! This time it's a family reunion at which I will know nobody aside from my immediate family. It's a reunion of my grandpa's side of the fam. I'm painting faces on all the little children! *Reminder - Do not bite the chubby little kid cheeks. Do not smoosh their faces. Do not pinch the chubby little baby thighs.*

It should make for a good story afterwards.

Hung out with Chrissy last night and then J afterward. My life has been so average and boring lately and I'm loving it.

I cuddled with the dog last night to the point where she was getting annoyed with me. That is pretty hard to do. She kept sighing and getting up and moving away. I love that dog. Especially when she wakes up in the morning and she's all sleepy and adorable and she's too tired to get up and go outside so J has to pick her up and put her on the ground. She's all slow and silly and god she is SO EFFING CUTE. I'm pathetic.

Hey Katie, do you remember our Crazy Old Cat Lady plan? You know, the one where we end up old spinsters with 4bajillion cats and no family? We keep all the balls that accidentally get thrown in our yard, and we hose people down as they walk by our house because they're "on our sidewalk!!" We wear mu-mus and Ked slippers with fuzzy cat stickers. The plan where we leave everything to the cats when we die? I am SO well on my way to that.

I'm about one milimeter away from being one of those people who carries pictures of their pets around in their wallet. Thank god I don't have the need to dress my animals up in people clothes. I mean, that's just creepy.

trolls = gross

2006-05-26T09:37:00.000-05:00

Ok, get ready for a stupid post about my stupid opinions. If you don't like it, don't read it. This is also REALLY long. REALLY. And really not-well-written. Since I have the BEST JOB IN THE WHOLE FUCKING WORLD, and it allows me to explore the internet like it's never been explored before, I've been reading people's blogs obsessively. Some favorites have been Dooce, Ultragrrrl, Pygmalion's Wife, Pink is the New Blog, and the James St. James Version. I've come to realize that there's this like, whole STUPID debate on the repercussions of having an 'online diary' so to speak, etc. etc. Dooce got fired from her job forever and a day ago for posting not so flattering stuff about her job, even though she didn't use names or identifying descriptions. Whatever, I don't think it's right, but it's certainly legal. I don't really have an opinion either way on that, although I do know that it made me think twice about ever mentioning my job or coworkers. My problem isn't with that, really. My problem is that because this insane network we call THE INTERNET *cue foreboding music* is so faceless and anonymous, people feel that they can comment on your life and your opinions with their own shitty opinions and get away with it. Because of this, somehow the people owning the websites have come to believe that it's a person's right to be rude to you simply because you have comments enabled on your site. The general opinion is that because someone posts their private life for the world to read about, that you have the right to judge that person based on that information, and that you have the right to tell them exactly what you think of them. I'm sorry, but I think that is complete and total bullshit. The world is totally mistaken in assuming that I have to be rational and fair. Fuck that. Writing about your personal life does not mean you've given the world an open invitation to criticize you. I'm pretty sure an open invitation to be criticized goes something like "Hey guys, openly criticize me." or "What do you think of me getting drunk the other night and throwing up on that guys shoes?" If your opinion is wanted, the person wanting the opinion usually makes it clear that criticism is welcome. Using your personal blog to advertise things going on in your business life doesn't mean shit. All that means is that you are trying to make some fucking money just like EVERY OTHER PERSON IN THE WORLD, and that your blog is just another way of handing out flyers or putting an add in a newspaper. So please spare the world the bullshit about how if you're going to use your high-traffic website as a way to advertise, then that must mean you understand 93845948 people read it, and then you shouldn't post personal things because that would violate some sort of internet law? *here comes the eff word again* ugh FUCK OFF. In case you haven't noticed, this is my site. And www.dooce.com is Heather B. Armstrong's site, and ultragrrrl.blogspot.com is Sarah Lewitinn's site. We can do whatever the hell we want. I could post a picture of my bare ass every day for two years and you still wouldn't have the right to ask me about why I posted it. If you must torture yourselves by reading the agonizing entries everyday, at least stop writing the hate mail. No one is holding a gun to your fucking head. Rules of basic human decency go out the window when it comes to having comments enabled on your blog or putting your email address up so people can email you. A lot of people seem to think that its ok to be insulted because you're "putting your personal life on display to be judged." I'm not asking people not to judge. That’s what we do. We're human. Judge away! Judge until you are blue in the face! But just because you've made your judgment about me doesn't mean I have to know what it is. Example: In real life, if I were to bleach my hair and it looked RIDICULOUS, I would be seriously offended if someone came up to me and said "Hey lady, you look like total shit! Oh my god! Eww! By the way, you can't get mad because you put your hair on display for the world to see." You've got to be out of your fucking mind. Of course I can be mad, because honestly, I didn't ask if you liked it. If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything. It's that simple. These rules should apply in all aspects of life and not just in person. Just because I can't punch you in the face over the internet doesn't give you the right to be mean just for the sake of being mean. That's never ok. When I write an entry in here, I am writing to an anonymous, faceless audience. I am not asking to know what you think of me. I'm writing here because I want to. Sometimes it's because I'm bored, sometimes because I want to write something down to remember it, sometimes because I've been through something tough and I think maybe someone will come across this and it will help them. Most of the time I'm just angry and I need to blow off some steam. And I'm not going to lie, I LOVE to know that people read this. I LOVE to know that someone was entertained for a minute. I LOVE getting nice/funny comments and email! I like the positive attention. Just because I welcome the positive attention does not mean I welcome the negative attention. Not unless I ask for it. So just because I put parts of my personal life on display does NOT mean ANYONE has the right to be mean to me or anyone else who owns a website/blog/livejournal/etc. I have my comments enabled because it's nice to get nice comments. It really makes my day. And I have my email address on this site for the same reason. I like getting email from people who are nice. It’s the same way I feel if I'm out somewhere and someone compliments me on my shoes or my outfit or my hair or something. This rant was brought about by two things. A- On www.dooce.com, Heather writes about raising her child, leaving the Mormon faith, and her life in Utah (previously her life in LA.) People email her some really, really nasty things. She pokes fun at it and it seems to roll off of her back, but I really can't get over it. She is putting her life on display, yes. She is not asking people if she's a good/bad parent, or a good/bad wife, etc. Her website is well-written and HILARIOUS (you should all visit her site. She talks about poop and boobs.) I admire her for being so honest about certain things, even faced with people's intolerance. It never ceases to amaze me how some people can just be so incredibly harsh towards her. It's just plain rude, and she might think its funny, but I do not think that is ok. She has a great group of loyal readers though, and I'm sure that is awesome. B- ultragrrrl.blogspot.com wrote a couple of times about a close friend of hers that passed away. She didn't give details about it, only wrote a few beautiful things about how great of a person he was and how he will be missed. It is her right to say such things and she can be as vague as she wants to. Someone asked her anonymously through a comment how this person died. That is an innocent, albeit unnecessary, question. The thing that sort of set me off was that someone, not Sarah, replied to this person that to ask that question isn't very tactful. Someone else then responded to that person with a whole thing about the 'ethical considerations of public writing' and cited the fact that Sarah's site advertises a lot of stuff in her business life as a reason that writing personal things is unnecessary. There are a few things wrong here. 1 - Where does this person getting off telling the owner of the site what she can and cannot post there as content? 2 - The owner of the site never got angry over the question of how her friend died. She didn't say anything. 3 - It's just basic common sense that such a question is insensitive. Sarah owns that site and speaks of her personal life just as much as her business life, and if she wants to post something about a dear friend, all we can do is appreciate that for what it is. I didn't know her friend, I don't even know her, and its none of my business how he died. Am I curious? Absolutely. Would I ever ask such a question? Never. Its great that she has such a high-traffic area where friends of hers that knew her friend can go to find out if there's an event in his honor or maybe just to see that they aren't alone in their grief. Why should she censor herself simply because her website has a lot of readers? That is just stupid. And also, just because she has a lot of readers does not mean that she owes us any details. These are just my stupid opinions. I am no expert. My blog, as most are, is one-sided writing. You are only getting my twisted version of the story, and I guess it's sort of disturbing to know that someone could read my journal and think that they know me because of it. Same goes for everyone else's. The beauty of this whole 'online journal' thing is that if you have a strong opinion, you can make your own site. Put your life on display. Tell everyone how you go about parenting and tell everyone how your friend died. Give us all the details. Spill it. You don't have to attack people personally. It is unnecessary. Simply claim your own corner of the internet, and spout your opinions there, where they are totally welcome. I don't owe anybody anything but respect and consideration. By writing about my life, I am NOT giving you an open invitation to assume that you know me, or to assume that I owe you a further explanation than what I have written here. Please don't spout your opinions if I haven't asked for them. If you have something nice to say, by all means go ahead and say it. There is never any harm in being nice. I also have to admit my hypocrisy because I actually said some of this in Ultragrrrl's comments section. Not to her, but to someone who commented about the 'ethical considerations of public writing'. I guess I got sort of defensive because I know how it feels to have people ask insensitive questions and feel like I OWE them sort of explanation for some reason, so I got mad at one commenter and commented at her. It wasn't my right to do so because she didn't ask for my opinion. So I can see how easy it is for someone to assume their opinion is welcome. So for that, for retaliating at a commenter, I apologize. This post is long an unorganized. I can't seem to get myself together on this one. So to sum it all up, I don't owe you shit, internet. So there! Take that!

2006-05-22T13:40:00.000-05:00

So this weekend was pretty interesting. Went to see a movie on Friday then went over to J's and went to bed. Lazed around all day Saturday.

Left J's at 4 in the afternoon, only to arrive home confronted with another round of the ever popular Laundry Argument, this time with a side of the "You Need To Get Your Eyebrows Waxed/Weed Wacked Because We Have A Family Function Tomorrow And You're An Embarassment To The Family" argument. It's funny that the world ends everytime I get lazy. This is why I need to move out ASAP.

Left the house in a fit of rage, (you know, like I always do), and went to the diner where I met up with Chrissy and Chuck. Chuck rules. He's really tall and he know a lot about computers and he makes music equipment! Like Effects Pedals and shit. Isn't that neat? Its so neat.

Sunday was my Aunt Geri and Uncle Norman's 50th wedding anniversary party. It was an embarassing time for all. My Aunt Geri and Uncle Norman rule though. Uncle Norman has a navy tattoo on his arm from forever ago. Its all wrinkled and distorted now, beyond the point of recognition, but it used to be this big anchor. He's so hardcore.

It was nice to see long lost cousins, but it was the most embarassing night. My grandma got plastered and introduced me to my Aunt Shelley 4 times. I've known Aunt Shelley all my life, and she was just at our house two weeks ago. They introduced me to my Uncle Michael about 3 times. Ugh. My brother got introduced to cousin Richard a whole bunch too. It must have sucked to be my brother yesterday. Poor thing.

Now, my grandma sober is hard to handle. When she gets tanked, its so much worse! UGH.

Anyway, the night was interesting. My mom and I laughed a lot. My grandparents danced a lot, which I love. It was adorable. They also drank a lot.

The DJ sucked. 50th wedding anniversary = DO NOT PLAY SHITTY 2006 POP MUSIC. He was awful. The guests of honor are like, 70 years old. Wouldn't it be nice to play some music from around the time that they got married? Something? Anything? Good lord. There were songs played that I don't even want to mention. Songs that should never be mentioned again the history of the world. Songs that never should have existed in the first place. I'm going to brave here and put it out there. The macarena (sp?) and some cotton-eyed dude song. Thats right. Not only was it played, but it was DANCED TO. By my Uncle Michael and every child under the age of 13 that was there. Thankfully my immediate family didn't partake, but yeah.

So I sat back watching all of my grandfather's siblings interact (Aunt Geri is my grandpa's sister). Remember old times. Talk about my Ma'am (great-grandmom, grandpa's mom). Dance together and get drunk together. And I saw that everyone in my family is out of their fucking mind. They were embarassing and silly and weird and foul-mouthed and hammered.

And do you want to know what I kept thinking?

There's no where on Earth I'd rather be right now. These people are my family, and they might be absolutely insane, but who out there has a family who isn't dysfunctional?

2006-05-20T18:23:00.000-05:00

Comments: You have a great writing style - you should be an author. I'd definitely buy your books. # posted by Anonymous : 12:17 AM Comments: I've officially added your blog to my list of "sites I visit as often as I can" because it's so cool. Which really means I just sit here hitting the refresh button every 4.234 seconds. # posted by Anonymous : 8:39 PM Dear Anonymous, I love you so much that it would give me great joy to just lick your whole face off. You are the greatest thing to happen to the world, EVER. Well, to my world at least. I love you, I love you, I love you. Anonymous, you are the sunshine of my life. Love Always, Ashley P.S- That was NOT sarcastic, I'm really just that in love with Anonymous and all of his/her glorious words. <3<3<3 PPS- If Anonymous happens to be two different people who made two different comments, then you are BOTH the sunshine of my life. Just to clarify.

2006-05-19T13:46:00.000-05:00

When I was a baby, my mom was carrying me out of our apartment building to our car. She had to walk down a long flight of steps. She insisted on wearing stilettos, but whatever, my mom does that.

She tripped and fell down the steps. With me. Little baby Ashley, tumbling down the steps. She shielded me from any injury though, which just goes to show what a great mama she is, but I was "a little traumatized." as she put it.

So, for your information, yes. Yes, I was dropped on my head as a small child.

True story.

2006-05-17T15:59:00.000-05:00

Ok guys, seriously, lets all sit around and talk about celebrities like we know them. Its really fun, no really. Ask me how I know.

I mean, there's nothing I love more than arguing over breat implants, eating disorders, and coke habits.

Because, you know, I have nothing better going on in my life... so I've got to talk about something, right?! I mean, I can't tell you how great it feels to just kick back and listen to conversation that is completely devoid of anything remotely interesting or intelligent.

What the hell else are we going to do? You know, there aren't a MILLION OTHER THINGS I COULD FUCKING BE TALKING ABOUT RIGHT NOW.

...Our letters sound the same...

Please visit me at http://www.smashleybug.com

postsecret a la RSM and postsecret.blogspot.com

I suck.

Hooray for new homes.

Hate.

best. mood. ever.

Lands in the middle, but leaning towards "the best"

If you'd like me to elaborate on anything, feel free to email me.

Other thoughts that are rattling around in there.

wow.

gaaah

The crinkly paper is driving me to the brink. (How many times can I post about losing the mind I never really had?)

I'm beginning to wonder if I ever had it.

Banned Books Week. Sept 23 - 30.

This is your brain. And this is your brain on... well, nothing really. Shit just up and broke.

PB

Greed!

All I can ever think is that the toilet water is going into those horrible cuts from the handcuffs!

Confessions of a Chronic Doodler (the word 'doodler' makes me giggle)

So many pictures!

*stomps feet*

And she's not only merely dead, she's really most sincerely dead. (Not the same song, I know, I just really like the Coroner.)

Mary is my homegirl.

Adventures in Babysitting - 2

Really? Enough with the letters.

Dear Thursday, please give me my brain back. kthxbye

The Internet Makes Me Feel Inadequate.

Seriously? Come on now!

You must read the pink eye letters. You must. You go now!

I'm going to call you Penny from now on.

$600.00 per month (not including utilities) to rent a room. A single room. Not even an apartment, but a single room. AND THAT IS CONSIDERED CHEAP.

Bless me Father, for I have... Ugh whatever.

I think I should be on some type of pill. Or tranquilizer. Or hit over the head with a bat.

This is your brain after a day off.

Oh so pointless.

How many times can I post about my insanity?

Blah Blah Cry Blah Blah Serious.

Adventures in Babysitting - 1

Crap! Crap I tell you!

Eyes of porcelain and blue, Could shock me into sense, You think you're so illustrious, You call yourself intense

GAH.

?

Maybe

A Few Things:

In Which I Bitch About Racial Division at Great Length

Websites that actually make me laugh out loud, which I don't normally do.

I am an asshole...

God I love days when I actually have change in my purse.

Emo Again.

Hey Lady

This is why people start smoking crack.

Eat your heart out

*drool*

Cheese Product.

Car. Ni. Vore.

trolls = gross

stomps feet

drool