I have had too much caffeine to think of a title

It is no secret. Money and I, well....we don't have a good relationship. It remains an elusive part of my life - showing up and disappearing in the blink of an eye. Even when I manage to convince money to stay for a little while, inevitably, something demands to be purchased (like gas...or food. or coffee. LOTS of coffee.) and money leaves me yet again feeling melancholy and blue...oh, and broke.

Being in college is not conducive to convincing money to stick around for more than, oh I don't know, a week?!? Being in a long distance relationship, also not a selling point for money to hang out with me. Rising gas prices? Pshh. Money is NOT sticking around for that bullshit. It also doesn't care for things like rent, electricity and, well it hides when the heating bill comes in the mail.

It is safe to say that Money is not a very dependable friend to me. And although in just under a week, I will be starting not one, but TWO new jobs, the promise of more money lurks just around the corner. Though I have vowed to try to open up a new bank account, one that will seduce SOME of my money into lingering, perhaps even earning itself some interest, I have no doubt that much of it will scatter with all the weddings, birthdays, and traveling summer generally brings.

On another [not-so-funny, unable to make light of this subject] note, I found out yesterday that a friend of mine (an ex no less) has got his orders for deployment to Iraq for a year. This news is definitely not surprising though the reality of it still makes me feel slightly nauseated. Not necessarily at the prospect of him going to serve his country, because it is truly what he has wanted to do since we were in high school. But because I cannot think of a more pointless cause for him to fight for, a more destructive and futile effort to make our country safer. I know this is what he wants and because of this, and because many people who I don't know but whose lives have equal worth as my friend's, I pray that the efforts of all of these people will not be in vain and that their lives not be lost because a morally bankrupt man and his friends made a terrible error in judgement.

Well, well, well. Look who decided to blog.

Ok, I know. I left without any warning. I could make up an excuse as to why I left town without a goodbye and evidently too quickly to remember to take my beloved Mac with me. I could, but I won't. Because the truth is, it just slipped my mind to mention that I was going on vacation. And that I was PURPOSELY not bringing my computer with me in order to "unplug" for a little while. My intentions in unplugging were pure, to actually write in a notebook in hopes that it would encourage the creativity to flow and to read some of the books that are piling up.

I was successful in reading and the writing, well, there was some writing. It may not be the inspiring, eloquent, fresh and witty writing I hoped to produce. But it is writing nevertheless. And some of it may even make an appearance on this blog. If you are lucky.

Anyway. Vacation was fun, relaxing, blah blah blah. All the stuff vacations should be. It wasn't all play though. I went for work purposes...and I guess I worked a little. But mostly it was play.

Today I went to my little brother's Court of Honor ceremony where he accepted his Eagle Scout badge. For those of you unfamilar with the Boy Scouting world, Eagle Scout is a BIG deal. It's the highest rank you can get and (as I found out today) only 1 out of every 50 scouts every reach Eagle.

So, it was a big deal. Especially to my parents. And it was an exceptionally rare thing to see my brother, a really funny yet quiet kid get up and give a speech about his experience in scouting and what it has taught him about life. When my mom turned to glance at me, she smiled as tears welled up in my eyes. Because I have spent the better part of my life thinking of this kid as someone I needed to protect, to guide, to worry about, to scold when he stepped out of line, and to lead. I showed him how to build a good fort with couch cushions and made sure he never went too far from home when playing outside with the neighbors. And this little kid, who now at 6'2 towers over me, doesn't need his big sister to protect him. In fact, I'm pretty sure that if I was in physical danger, he would be the one to protect me. And it is just an overwhelming feeling of love and pride and all that mushy crap that you never realize you will feel for your siblings as you all become adults.

Wanna see some pictures? Ok good. It's getting a little too serious in here.



Not a great one, but that cup of coffee? Was spilled shortly after the picture was taken. On my brand. new. WHITE. shirt.



Zach getting one of his many citations.

And now for something completely different....



OoooO. Pretty Arionza mountains. And airplane wing. But more importantly, look. Mountains!




This is Luke. Or, my job for the week of vacation. Yeah, it's a pretty damn cute job.

Alright. I'm still jet-lagged and need to do laundry. 1 load down, 76 to go.

What would I do without her?

M: I mean, I know I'll never be the next Dooce, but it's cool when you find out you have readers
A: exactly
A: how the hell did she get so famous anyway?
M: she got fired from her job for blogging
M: the story went national
A: ohhhh
A: i didn't know it was publicized
A: i knew she was fired
M: that's how I first started reading her...I saw an article somewhere
A: damn
M: so basically we have to do something super extravagant
A: hmm
A: what could we do
A: that would be news worthy?
M: hmmm
A: shave our heads and go in and out of rehab?
A: oh wait
M: hehe
A: make a derogatory comment on MSNBC?
A: no, then people wouldn't like us
M: I suppose we would have to get naked. People always notice naked. Somewhere very public
M: no...but people like naked
A: people do like naked - but will they read our blogs if we are naked?
M: the naked bloggers?
M: I'd read it
A: truth
M: see...all these bald, racist, alcoholic people already had fame....we need to be even bigger
A: i know
M: type naked blogger into Google
M: I don't think we came up with this first...
A: dammit!

Shut UP.

Ok. This post cannot be written without a confession preceding it.

I am a jealous person.

*stares at feet*

It is not something I am proud of, in fact it is a facet of my personality that I would remove if plastic surgery could be done to the psyche. I actually think that everyone has a little bit of jealousy in them - but I guess there is a difference between jealousy as an emotion and jealousy as a character trait. I possess the latter.

Ugh. It makes me cringe just typing those words because I know I will be instantly judged on them. I know what an ugly part of human nature jealousy can be - more so in the way it manifests itself and not always in the feeling of being jealous. For example, I can feel jealous when I see a woman at the gym running on the treadmill next to me effortlessly, not breaking a sweat as she hits mile 5 and me, panting and cramping after the first 15 minutes. That jealousy, however, does not possess me to act differently towards this stranger, to harm her in any way...to perhaps reach over and trip her on the treadmill. No, instead I just stew in my own inadequate running abilities. That type of jealousy I suppose only causes harm to one's self.

But then there is jealousy that causes us [me] to act in a hurtful way, pouring out negative energy onto those who are the object of said jealousy in the first place. Jealousy in a relationship usually plays out this way. You know, the why is your ex calling you, now we're in a fight because of something that is totally out of your control type of crazy jealousy.

This it the type of jealousy that makes me hang my head in shame because, being a mostly rational and logical person I know how IRRATIONAL this feeling is.

I know, and yet, I can't really help it.

So this morning when I found myself getting snappy because other people have decided to express that they too think that MY significant other is an amazing and beautiful person...I had to stop myself. Because a. it is not her fault b. she is being honest because she is in fact the most honest person on the planet AND c. she is beautiful and amazing and of course other people recognize this.

And as the jealousy swirled in my head with ugly thoughts, I had to force myself back to reality and tell them to SHUT UP. Because I am being dumb.

Besides, she chose me. [sticks out tongue]

Ok, ok. I'm working on it.

Seesaws and Sunburns

Today was just freaking awesome.

Took the kids to the park and wore ourselves OUT. Went out for ice cream afterwards because Abby was such a good girl all day. Also because I was craving ice cream.

Max is probably the cutest baby on planet Earth and melts my heart every time he claps when he sees me and blows me a kiss when I leave the room.

Took a nap with both kids on the couch as we were all exhausted from our tiring 3 hours in the sun climbing on the monkey bars and playing on a kick ass seesaw.

Have a little sunburn from being outside - and it feels nice. After what seemed like WEEKS of rain and clouds, today was a lifesaver. Everyone was outside, at the beach, riding bikes, finally able to come out of hibernation.

After Grandma relieved me from "work," I went home, grabbed my camera and went to the beach just in time to see the sunsetting. Sometimes Rhode Island is so beautiful it literally takes my breath away. Sometimes I have a hard time believing I grew up here. And sometimes I can't wait to get the hell out. It's a love / hate thing truthfully.

Went to my FAVORITE restaurant [they serve the best damn vegetarian burgers] and after ordering found out that they are hiring and lo and behold, they have openings immediately. They are super busy in the summer AND they have awesome food AND they are right next to the ocean and and and....I am going to apply. My goal is to work as many jobs as humanly possible so I can stop freaking out about not having any money saved up.

Now I am home enjoying said food and about to shower and watch a movie. And pass out. Because it was really an exhausting day.

See? I told you. So freaking awesome.

Tequila anyone?

I am all over the place today. Woke up feeling sick, almost talked myself out of going to class, actually did go to class, felt better, went to the PA office and was in a much better mood [because they are just some of the most wonderful people ever.] went to work, felt strange [whole different story.], went to class, felt bored and then angry. The anger was followed by a moment of wallowing self-pity, accompanied with a bit of depression, with a side of WHAT THE FUCK is wrong with me?

I left school, anxious and looking for someone to talk to about my rollercoastery state. Alas, no one was around. Or could talk. As I drove down the higway, I could almost see my bad mood permeate through my clothes, creating a palpable cloud of blah. So I did what anyone would do in my situation. I went and bought chocolate pudding.

And now here I sit, bowl in hand. Staring at the large mound of pudding topped with cool whip, reminding myself that it's all fat free, I don't feel as cured as one might have hoped. Apparently this sugary indulgence is not what I am looking for to fill the void.

Sigh.

For now I will sit and wait. Wait for the feeling to pass.

The Unbearable Lightness of Blogging

You know that commercial for cleaning products where the woman is sitting in front of her mop or broom and listing her grievances with its performance and then proceeds to fire him and bring in the new Sniffer Duster Plus now with Turbo boosting performance?

This is how I feel about my blog layout.

Since I started this blog, I have become sort of a maniac about the whole thing. I realize how ridiculous I am whenever I look at my blog and have mini panic attacks in my head...

I really don't like how gray the background is....maybe I should have chosen a shorter title....do I need a tagline?....why can't I think of a clever tagline!!?!?....I don't like my about me section....why does blogger restrict my creativity with its cookie cutter setup?...how can I be expected to write brilliant, witty, imaginative postings under THESE CONDITIONS!?!?!

See? I told you. Maniac.

I don't want my domain name to be so long and followed by dot blogspot or dot wordpress or dot typepad.

And I want to have Photoshop installed for free on my computer. Any takers?

It would be great if said Photoshop could come with a person to explain all the ins and outs of the program as well. Mmmm k?

No?

Fine.

And so begins the journey of developing a new design, a new layout, a tagline...maybe even a domain name that is easier to type. Because even I have trouble getting it right. Stay tuned.

4/16/07

While I would have normally updated on my workout progress since it has officially been a week since we started our healthy makeovers, I think I will wait until tomorrow.

I couldn't really think of anything eloquent or poignant to write about the events of yesterday even though I was filled with a sense of emptiness and sadness. Even now, I am left with nothing except for the chilling feeling that it could have us. It could have been my school. It could have been any of us. Don't get me wrong, I am not trying to make this tragedy my own. It happened over 500 miles away and to people I have never met. But it is the reality that these people were my age, were students, were going about their Monday just like they would any other Monday, except some of them ended up dead.

Whatever I am feeling is minor compared to the grief that the Virginia Tech community will deal with in the weeks and months to come. Even a large university such as this one still has a tight knit community of students, staff and faculty who have a common bond through their love for their school - and now through a really horrible, unimaginable event.

I guess, for whatever it's worth, I want to express my grief and sympathy for everyone who was affected, hurt or killed yesterday at VT. Sometimes the world is a really cold place.

My father's daughter

I know a lot of people who try to avoid the inevitable transformation into their parents. People who hear themselves repeating phrases or habits used by their mother or father and cringe at the thought of becoming like them.

I am not one of those people. Maybe sometimes I catch myself saying something that is typical of my mom or dad and roll my eyes....but more often than not, I find myself sort of laughing as I can hear my mother saying - "Just wait until you have kids!" and coming to terms with the fact that yes, I will probably say that to my children as well.

My mom and I, well we have been best friends since I was in the womb I think. I have never seen my mom as "the enemy" as some kids see their parents and I have rarely been afraid to tell her something. When I am stressed, scared or confused, I still long for my mother's arms to be wrapped around me, no matter how far I am from home.

My father and I have not always had this harmonious relationship. Not that I didn't always love him or anything of the sort, but we butted heads. A lot. Mostly when I was in my early adolescence and, as my mother pointed out, mostly because we are so much alike. I used to cringe at this statement because, ugh, no - I am nothing like my father. I am nothing like this man who won't let me go to France at 16 and makes me do my chores before anything else and all the other crazy! unreasonable! things my dad subjected my poor, torturted teenage self.

Have you rolled your eyes yet? Good. I deserve it.

We had our differences and it was easy for me to dismiss him because I was still at the age where I had yet to see my parents as anything BUT my parents. To kids, parents aren't people - they are just mom and dad. You don't consider their lives before you were born, you don't think about the heartache, pain, triumph and achievement they have experienced before and even after you arrived. All you know is - I'm here now - pay attention to meeeeee.

Then one day, you open your eyes and you see people. Two people who fell in love, got married, and had some babies. Two people who struggled and worked tirelessly to make a home, to give you things you needed and even things you didn't need at all. You see a woman who chose a full time job that did not let out at five o'clock, but instead required a round the clock, 24-hour a day schedule with no vacation time, no 401k, no sick time and definitely no stock options. You see a man who at one point worked THREE jobs just to make sure all of his kids wanted for nothing.

I don't remember when my dad and I finally saw eye to eye, but I do remember what it felt like to be proud to have been born to such wonderful parents. My father transformed before my eyes from someone who restricted what I could do and made all kinds of rules for me to live by to someone who protected me, who had spent his life working so that I could be happy.

And the truth is, I am exactly like my father. I am stubborn and opinionated and hard-working. My love for the Red Sox, the outdoors, the weather, and good french toast all came from him. When I have car trouble or need advice on money, jobs, or life, it is without hesitation that I call him. When I revealed to my parents one of the hardest things I have ever had to tell anyone, it is my father who was first to tell me that is was ok, that he would love me no matter what.

He has been travelling all over the country the past few months for a new job and frequently he pops into my head. I wonder where he is at any given moment or what he is doing. I look forward to hearing about his latest excursion and of course discussing the Sox's latest victory (or defeat, the latter being more likely).

I am definitely my father's daughter.

Boobs and Bravo

Rhode Island is getting hit with a giant storm today....or, the excuse that I using to be so. ridculously. lazy. But the rain - my GOD the rain. It started around 8 or so this morning and has continued all torrential-downpour like. The streets, they are flooded - and the wind, it is making the cable flicker. Enough said.

I rolled out of bed at an hour that I am embarrassed to mention (11:30) and dragged my ass to the gym. M and I decided that Sundays are our rest days - but I missed Thursday and decided that my joints hurt and needed some pool therapy. I walked outside and to my car, drove to the gym and walked in, completely soaking wet. Well. It took care of the need to shower before getting into the pool. Ha. Gross.

20 laps later and I am panting and have jello legs. BUT! My kneeeees. They feel oh-so much better.

So I have to confess something. I am not a fan of the whole being naked in the women's locker room and walking from the shower to the toilet to the lockers without wearing even a damn towel. SO many women at the gym feel comfortable enough to walk around, unincumbered and without fear that their boobs are a-floppin'. And... fine. I mean, I still jump a little when I walk in and see an 85 year old woman drop her towel and bend over to search for her...garments. Whatever. I'm a terrible person. God bless her - she comes here, swims, stays healthy. But her boobs? Not something I necessarily care to see.

I'm sorry. I am terrible. Maybe it's just me....maybe it's because it takes me a while to feel comfortable being naked in front of anyone. Some people don't have this issue. Maybe I'm just jealous.

Or...maybe you should put some underwear on. Because. Seriously.

Anyway, now I am laying in bed with the dog (roommate's) at my feet and the Workout marathon on TV....and I am unable to find the energy to get up and take! a! damn! shower! Really I smell like chlorine. And my skin is yelling at me.

But new episodes keep coming on. Help! Cute lesbians! Working out! Gay boy drama! I can't escaaaaape.

P.S. Anyone who watches Workout - Who HATES Jesse this season? UGH. Shut up already. You like BOYS. Stop hating on the lesbians.

and then I got hit by a car.

I probably should have taken the universe's hint that this day was going to suck. When my alarm went off at 10 of six, I woke up only to discover that my throat was swollen and on fire and my body felt like a twisted pretzel. I thought briefly about still going to the gym and then swallowed. Owwwwwwwwww.

And...scene.

Apparently I shut my alarm off instead of resetting it and subsequently woke up late for class. Faaantastic.

After running around throwing on clothes and trying to make the bags under my eyes seem not so baggy, I flew out of the house only to discover that it was hailing. In April. Hail. Chunks of ice. Falling from the sky. April.

what the hell.

Ok good. At least the weather is consistent with the theme of the day: ways to make Ashley angry. Cut to me, walking to class [late, of course. which, coincidentally is the theme of my LIFE]. I am blurry-eyed and bundled up trying to avoid said hail when out of nowhere a car backs! into! me! That's right. A motorized vehicle slowly backed into my left shoulder. Holy hell what is happening in my life right now? Keep in mind, I am fine. It didn't even knock my over, just felt like a punch in the arm area.

The girl stops and gets out of her jeep and exclaims, "Oh my GOD! Are you ok? I was like TOTALLY not looking"

Now, on normal days, I may have just said, oh it's ok, I'm fine. And walked away. But remember today's theme. So I am angry. Very angry. So I reply, "Yeah, sometimes it's good to LOOK BEHIND YOU when you put your car into reverse. Just a thought."

Maybe a little harsh, but really? You forgot to look behind you? Did you miss the class in driver's ed where they tell you that the ability to see where you are driving is the most important part of the whole activity so as not to run over people, other cars and possibly small animals?

The rest of the day up until now has been fine, other than the fact that the hail has turned to pouring rain and my pants are still wet from walking outside because umbrellas are not designed to protect against horizontal precipitation. [god I really hate living in Rhode Island today.]

Only a few hours before I go home and crawl right back into bed. Because obviously that's what the universe has been trying to tell me to do all damn morning.

Zen

I worry. About pretty much everything. I worry about stupid things - whether or not I turned the heat down when I left the house or how I have yet to fold last week's clean laundry and am simply treating my hamper as a closet. I worry about petty things - why my hair seems flat today, how my eyebrows need to be plucked on an every other day basis (or why I am such a fanatic when it comes to my eyebrows). I worry about the state of the world - about the war, about starvation, about how much CO2 my car is spewing in the air every day contributing to the planet's fever. I am a worrier. I inherited this from my mother.

My level of worrying stems from a much larger issue, better known as the thing I am medicated for (anxiety). Though the drugs do help, there are certain things that have far and away been my saving grace when it comes to this problem. Yoga and mediation are up there along with constantly writing. Writing and buying books that I will eventually read. [Recently I received a gift card for Borders...which is the equivalent of giving an alcoholic a brand new bottle of single malt scotch. Bad news bears.] Meditation and all of the books I have read about meditation and spirituality have led me down such an interesting path over the last year. I find myself recognizing behaviors or tendencies that I have and finally being able to talk myself down from the proverbial cliff. When I meditate or pray, I am able to actually clear my mind, or mindfully acknowledge thoughts that I have and then refocus back on whatever mantra I have chosen.

I know a lot of people are skeptical about meditation or anything related to spirituality. Being raised Catholic but always disagreeing with everything I was taught, I never felt I could ever be fulfilled by a "higher power." I am a skeptic to my core which makes it hard to buy into anything that doesn't have a logical purpose and reason behind it. But this doesn't mean I don't want to believe in something. I just want it to be a true belief - not a belief in something that sounds like a really well-written fable for kids about an ark and a garden and magic acts. For some people, that is where their true belief lies. There is nothing wrong with this.

But it is not for me. I have searched for balance and poise and inner peace for as long as I can remember. It is only recently that this search has become a living, breathing part of my existence. Someone once told me, when I find myself worrying about what is to come or what has been, when I worry about all that I should be doing and all that I have done wrong - I need to remind myself to just. be. Be here, now, with whatever is happening and however you feel. Be sad if you are sad, calm if you are calm, angry if you are angry. Feel whatever it is you are feeling and don't worry that it is not the right thing to feel or the healthy way to think about things. Just be. I recite this to myself a lot. I take deep breaths and close my eyes and repeat this simple phrase whenever I find my head cannot locate one rational or peaceful thought.

So the point of my rambling this morning is just to say how thankful I am for the ability to attempt to find inner peace. I wish for nothing more than to be able to have that goal - balance in my life - and to remember that however unbalanced I may feel, I need to just be.

The Biggest Loser: SK Edition

So we did it. Day 1 of an early morning workout routine is the hardest one I think. (although I could be wrong. We'll see how I sore I am tomorrow.) Molly beat me to the gym this morning, as she set her alarm to allow enough time for morning confusion and sluggishness and well...I didn't. But when I realized I was running late, I flew out of bed and threw on some clothes. I was in a mad dash to try and find something to hold my not yet grown out obnoxious bangs (just grow out ALREADY) and could not for the LIFE of me find a clip or anything. Was interesting because most days I feel like I pick up half a dozen bobby pins or so off the floor (last weekend they broke my vacuum.) But today...none. Lovely.

Pull into the gym parking lot already 7ish minutes late. The reason I am late? I promised I'd meet Molly. Crazy how knowing someone is at the gym waiting for you is more motivation than having to suck in my tummy whenever I want to put on my favorite jeans. But who the hell cares where the motivation comes from. It's before sunrise and I'm at the gym. Me: 1 Body fat/desire to eat donuts: 0.

I figured I'd copy Molly and keep track of my progress. I somehow have the feeling that we will be successful this time because there is actually someone holding each other accountable.

(also it's nice to be able to discuss why woman on treadmill is doused in perfume and why woman on bike has on excess amounts of jewelry with someone after workout is over)

SO here we are. Week 1.

Starting weight: Ha...I'm with M on this one. Do I dare give a number? Hmmmmm. (thinks about whole internet knowing weight.) Nope. Not today. It is 20 pounds heavier than I'd like to be.

Goal: Lose some weight. (20 lbs would be nice) But mainly, feel healthier. Get into shape. Not get winded when I climb stairs.

Short term goal: Fit into a cute dress by Darcie's wedding in May. (we both have that goal in common)

Observations: Am out of shape. Why does my butt hurt?

Tomorrow's goal: Get out of bed despite soreness.

The Monday Morning Diet

We have all been there. Some of you are probably there today. We look to the beginning of the week as a time to start over, to forget the calories consumed over the past weekend, to start anew. Maybe you found yourself in the middle of last week, unable to get to the gym and seduced by those chocolate cupcakes your evil coworker snuck into the office. As those frosted concoctions stared you down and you felt the zipper on your pants tighten ever so slightly, you decided that it was that time again. Time to climb (or slovenly crawl) back onto the diet wagon and vow to never eat chocolate cupcakes ever! again!

But it was Wednesday. And you can't possibly start a new healthy makeover in the middle of the week. Not to mention it is a holiday weekend. How can you be expected to get through Easter on a DIET? It would be foolish, really. A waste of your precious time. Monday, MONDAY will be the golden day of change. Monday seems far enough away to have time to psyche yourself into a diet free of sugar and bad carbs and excess sodium. Monday will save us all. Jesus will rise on Sunday and MONDAY, we will get thin.

So here we are. Monday. The Monday after a holiday. Foregoing sugar in our coffee, passing up the morning bagel for an apple and some low-fat oatmeal, and trying to ignore the leftover carrot cake sitting in the kitchen down the hall.

Tomorrow Molly and I will attempt to drag our asses out of bed at an ungodly hour and force ourselves back into a workout routine once again. Hopefully, this time I will be successful at obtaining an healthier lifestyle.

But if not, there's always next Monday.

thou shall not consume high fructose corn syrup

I am one of the many fortunate people to suffer from migraine and cluster headaches. Almost every. single. month. They coincide with my period (sorry guys) and usually keep me in bed for at least an entire day, sometimes more. This month, I have a lovely cluster headache that has taken up residence on the left side of my head and behind my eye. Making me feel like this:



Owwwww. Someone come make it stop. Please?

On another note, tomorrow is Easter. Easter is my favorite of all the over commercialized Christian holidays...mainly because of the candy. Easter has the BEST CANDY. Cadbury mini eggs? A-Mazing. I could eat seven hundred bags of them in one sitting. But Easter is a strange holiday, stranger than most. What's the story again? Jesus was killed by a herd of large rabbits who laid eggs on the cross and then rose from the grave, took the eggs and the rabbits responsible for his murder and dipped them in chocolate and served them to all his disciples......

something like that.

Possibly the most bizarre part of Easter are the 40 days leading up to the holiday, better known as Lent. For those of you unfamiliar with Lent, it is (according to en.wikipedia.org) the time that "Jesus retreated into the wilderness, where he fasted for forty days, and was tempted by the devil. Jesus overcame all of the temptations of the lust of the flesh, lust of the eyes, and the pride of life by citing scripture to the devil, at which point the devil left him, angels ministered to Jesus, and he began his ministry."

Our response to his sacrafice? Christians and Catholics and I'm sure some other religions I'm leaving out give up something in their lives for forty days to display their devotion to Jesus before he dies. So to show piety, people give up soda, cake or other high fructose corn syrup products. Some people will give up just chocolate - but still eat the skittles and vanilla-flavored pound cake. Some people give up just Coke, but drink Sprite and Dr. Pepper like it's going out of style.

Apparently giving up some type of fattening, over-indulgent food is comparable to forty days of fasting in the desert.

I understand tradition - but I don't understand doing things in order to display faith to others. Like as if you give up artificially sweetened drinks for several weeks, you must be a better person than the rest of us.

(I know I'm going to get some hate mail for that.)

Oh well. All I know is tomorrow I am leaving my house early so I can get to my parents house in time for my dad's homemade breakfast. :)

Happy Easter everyone

Firsts

Inspired by a fellow blogger...

First...

Car - A 1988 Oldsmobile Cutless Sierra. I know what you're thinking. How did a newly licensed, sixteen year old driver obtain such a sweet ride? I didn't believe my own good fortune when my grandfather told me that his 96 year old client had passed away and left HIM the car in her will. While I'm sure it was hard for my grandfather to part with such gem, he decided that the car had Ashley written all over it. And so a beautiful friendship was born. The Oldsmobile came equipped with a factory radio that not only did not have a tape deck but only allowed for four preset radio stations [all of which, when I came in possession of said vehicle, were programmed to Jesus stations or 96.9 AM, which is all Catholic church masses, all the time. Brilliant.] The car also had its own personal bobble head Jesus that danced around like one of those hula girls on the dashboard. That thing took an entire bottle of GooGone to remove. I kid you not, it bobbled the most whenever Jimmy Buffet was on the radio. Apparently the son of God also likes pina coladas and getting caught in the rain.

Boyfriend - Ryan Johnson. He moved up the street from me when we were 10 and the next year, he asked me to be his girlfriend. Actually he didn't directly ask me, he had his friend Chris call me and ask me very random questions such as "Do you like guys with blonde hair or brown hair?" The following day in school I received the infamous note:

Do you like me?

Yes / No

If yes, do you want to go out with me?

Yes / No

Love,
Ryan

I circled yes and yes though in truth I didn't understand why he said "go out" because I knew my parents weren't going to let me go anywhere with a boy. And so began our beautiful relationship. He was my first kiss and the first guy I fell asleep next to while watching a movie. After a few months, he left me for some 8th grader named Lauren. Whore. I actually think she ended up getting pregnant right after high school and now works at a bar. {insert song clip: Justin's What Goes Around....}

Time I Was Drunk - Embarrassed to admit that it was at 13. I spent my early adolescence hanging around with some questionable characters with whom I made some lousy decisions. It wasn't even a special occasion, just a night without parents at my best friends house and a bottle of peach schnhapps and vodka. I remember the first time I tried to take a shot of the schnapps, I flung the glass up to my face really fast, like I had seen on TV, and spilled the alcohol all down my shirt. Ridiculous. I don't remember much from the night except wanting to dance a lot and then being really, really tired to the point that I fell asleep on the coffee table and awoke the next morning feeling like I had the flu. Vodka and I ended our relationship then and there and every time the bastard tries to crawl back into my life, I am reminded at what a lying son of a bitch it really is.

Time I Travelled Cross-Country - Right before my 16th birthday, I flew to California with my friend Bethany for some girl's retreat in LA. The minute we landed, I knew I was going to love CA. The entire trip was filled with a whole new world of beautiful beaches, palm trees, celebrities, the (very very cold) Pacific Ocean, and some really amazing people. LA was sort of a fantasy world that I don't think I would want to spend any significant amount of time there...but California in general was pretty wonderful.

Record/Tape/CD I Bought - The first tape I ever purchased was Jennifer Paige's "Crush" single which I listened to on repeat (or kept pressing rewind....) until the tape basically came unwound. Either that or someone in my house satotaged it because the song made their ears bleed. The first CD I bought was the first Backstreet Boys album. My 10 year old taste in music makes me cringe but at least I didn't hang pictures of the guys in the band on my wall. Nick Carter was not and is not attractive. Neither are the Hanson brothers. Come on people.

Take it away Mr. Jobs

I was going to post part II of my road trip today, but as I started writing, I realized that my trip back was much like my trip down, except with more traffic, whining and general malaise and unhappiness. Also, the temperature dropped significantly, which only added to the malaise.

So, for fear that I would cause everyone to sigh and roll their eyes as they clicked off my blog and wondered what possessed them to read about the inane details of my life in the first place, I will not be continuing the road trip anecdote.

I actually am feeling particularly uninteresting today. So here you go. For those who love Apple and hate the war. Or just think Mad TV is HI-larious.

The post in which I recount my road trip.....or, I hate Connecticut.

I've been on hiatus for a few days. I apologize. Things are a little hectic on the home front.

Also, I took an impromptu road trip on Sunday and just got back late, late last night. It was completely last minute - completely not my style, but worked out nonetheless. Though it was a spontaneous event, I did manage to sneak in some of my innate planning (checking the weather) that I was made fun of for during the trip.

Here is a recap:

Sunday

12:27 PM : Leave house and embark on 25 minute drive to the highway. [ah, the joys of living in sticksville, usa.]

12:49 PM: Stop to get gas, only to realize that debit card and license are in fact back home in the pocket of the pants worn to the bar the previous night. WTF

1:16 PM: License. Check. Money. Check. Good to go.

1:25 PM: Welcome to Connecticut. Booooo [And so begins the worst part of the trip]

2:50 PM: WHEN DOES THIS STATE END?

2:55 PM: Need. Coffee. Now.

2:57 PM: Woman making coffee appears very confused when I ask for extra cream. She gives me no cream. Ask again. She glares at me and pours in cream. Upon tasting coffee, I gag as coffee tastes like an ass-y shoe.

3:21 PM: Why do I feel like I'm riding on a mechanical bull? Connecticut is dirty. And the pot holes. My GOD THE POT HOLES.

3:40 PM: Welcome to New York. Someone get me a hard roll. HOOOOOOORAY!

4:12 PM: Welcome to New Jersey. What the hell is that smell?

4:48 PM: Notice girl behind me holding her own version of a Makeover Story while driving. Sweetheart, your hair couldn't get any bigger. And if you rear end me while applying lip liner, I will punch you in and around the throat area.

5:45 PM: Not a fan of New Jersey. LOVE the NJ Turnpike. Straight, no traffic, great rest stops that have wonderful, magnificent Starbucks coffee and people to pump my gas because IT'S THE LAW.

6:00 PM: If part of the Delaware Bridge is under construction, should we really be driving on it? it's not like a road - there is WATER underneath us. anyone else uneasy about this?

6:10 PM: Hi Maryland. I missed you.

7:10 PM: Why am I driving like I'm in a Nascar race through the Fort McHenry Tunnel? Slow down Daigneault. Too much damn Redbull. (Don't worry Mom. I drive slow most of the time)

7:35 PM: It's a bird. It's a plane. It's the Disney Cinderella Castle! Nope, it's the Mormon Temple. There is something wrong with those people.

7:45 PM: WHY DOES EVERYONE ON THE LOCAL SIDE OF 270 DRIVE SO DAMN SLOW???

7:52 PM: Exit 6B, how I love your face.

7:59 PM: FALLSGROVE! YAY! My favorite girls :)

The end.

Stayed tuned for Part II, the drive home: Better known as Traffic makes me whinnnnyyyy.