The Light(er) Side of Growing Up

Drum roll please

2007-05-09T14:42:00.001-05:00

I have moved! For real this time. I know I was all talk for a while - well, let's be honest. I was all whiny. Blah blah blah, I don't like my blog layout, waaah. Sorry about that.

But I finally decided to up and leave Blogger and create a new site. I don't have a new domain name yet, but I figure I'll do it one step at a time. [Me, take things slowly? Unheard of.]

HERE! CLICK HERE! MY NEW SITE!

That, my friends, is where I will be. Somewhere over the rainbow.....

PLEASE update your blogrolls & visit me at my new site often. Thanks for your patience.

See ya!

too good to not share

2007-05-08T19:00:00.000-05:00

It's funny because it's just such an accurate representation of people (guys specifically) from Mass.

Bro, bro. SERIOUSLY bro.

HILARious.

No talent ass clown-age

2007-05-08T17:51:00.000-05:00

As you can see, there is no new layout. Yet.

See, the problem with having a Mac is that a lot of HTML code isn't recognized. [Did you see that? I totally sounded like I knew what I was talking about.]

So I tried to do some work on the layout at new job. I was careful and just worked on it during my lunch break....but still got jumpy when I heard footsteps coming towards my cubicle. I had a document related to work opened just so I could pop that screen up when and if someone came to talk to me.

"Hey there Bob. Just workin' on these TPS reports. Good times." {nervous laugh}

God I am SUCH a dork.

Also, I don't work with anyone named Bob. Not even remotely close. And I only wish we had TPS reports. Because then I could steal the copy machine and drive into work listening to "Damn it feels good to be a gangsta"

A girl can dream, can't she?

Be patient all. (All 7 of you. My blogging popularity is OVERWHELMING. Heh. I love you guys) A new layout is on its way. It's going to be fanTAStic.

on the verge (of 1 AM)

2007-05-07T23:45:00.000-05:00

Remember how I said that I was sick of my blog layout/template/everything about my blog that isn't the writing? I'd link you to that post, but I'm just too tired.

I am about to change the whole thing. And buy a domain name. *Deep breath*

And it's not even because I have THAT many readers....or that anyone is demanding change.

[how does one demand change on someone's blog anyway? i am picturing tiny icons, representing bloggers, holding signs that say "YOU ARE BORING" and "Give us a pretty layout or give us death!" what? i'm so f-ing tired.]

It's just that....I don't like looking at it. I know....this is all vanity. I don't even like TYPING the damn site name - I always forget the g in growing and end up with a site name that looks like I'm some girl in Alabama just writin' about the good ole days and that there's my mamma and here's my story of growin' up!

Anyway.

This whole thing is getting uprooted and moved. Soon. Possibly tomorrow?

I promise I'll provide details as to where you can find me. It'll probably be something like www.iamdumbandchangedmyblogbutgotstuckwithalongerdomainname.com

if that is an actual site, I will cry with joy.

Working girl

2007-05-07T15:09:00.000-05:00

It has taken me all damn day to get up the nerve to log in to Blogger and post because today is my very FIRST day at my very NEW job.

And, I do not want to be dooced. [Yes, I did a wikipedia search on her. A little obsession never hurt anyone.]

But this is the kind of place where people wear jeans and flip flops to work on occasion and are not the least bit anal about when you leave/where you're going/how long you took for your lunch break. So. I think I'm safe.

So, new company so far is wonderful. New supervisor, awesome. Already have a small friend crush on her. New computer - holy crap. You should see this thing. Panel flat screen, 17 billion inch monitor, a gazillion giga somethings of megapixels....

Have I mentioned that my new job involves working with media companies?

Yeah. I have a lot of catching up to do.

Have I also mentioned that new company is located .34 miles from a Starbucks?

Looks like I will be unable, for the SECOND summer in a row, to kick my caffeine addiction.

Dude. Friday!

2007-05-04T09:10:00.000-05:00

You know that commercial with Sally Field and that once a month pill for osteoporosis? Boniva, I think it's called? So the first line of that commercial is...

"I was talking to my girlfriend about her osteoporosis treatment, and she told me she has to set aside time ONE morning a WEEK to take her pill. Then I told her about once monthly Boniva."

Ok. What? SET ASIDE time? To swallow a tiny pill once a week? How much time do you need?

"Oh sorry, I can't meet you for coffee, Marge. No, lunch is out too. I have to take my pill. Yeah, I'm in for the day."

This is not the only medicine that doctors have tried to make "more convenient." The Pill [you know the one I'm talking about] is now available in every possible form. You put a sticker on your ass and leave it on for an entire month - and boom. No baby for you. There's that Pill commercial where the girl is complaining that while the Pill once freed women and gave them sexual independence, it now WEIGHS us down! How can WE POSSIBLY be expected to swallow a pill the size of an an ameba EVERY day? God the chains of oppression that hold us down! We must rise up against this and demand a quicker way! We don't have TIME to swallow. Make an inhalable birth control so all we have to do is BREATHE and we are safe.

Kills me.

Speaking of ridiculous, go to maps.google.com and hit the get directions link. Type in San Francisco to Amsterdam. Line 29 is my favorite.

Ode to...

2007-05-03T13:56:00.000-05:00

Dear "Little" Brother,

Happy 15th Birthday! It is hard to believe that you are one year away from the legal age to drive. [Scary too.] I can still remember the day you were born - I was playing in the driveway with sidewalk chalk and hoping for a little sister. I decided that it was alright you were a boy when Mom first let me hold you. And now I'm so glad you were a boy. Mostly because you are a freaking awesome kid...but also because I didn't have to share clothes with anyone.

So my advice for the next year: 15 is sort of a tease of an age because you're not old enough to drive, vote, drink, buy porn or really anything fun. BUT the good part about being this age [and there is a good part, I swear] is that you have very few responsibilities. Once you drive, you have to worry about paying for gas and car repairs and you know, making sure you don't run over children or small animals. Then before you know it, you have college applications, jobs, bills, loans, obnoxious roommates....the list is endless. SO. Enjoy being 15. Enjoy doing lots of nothing while you can.

Hope you have a great birthday kiddo. I love you.

PS I sent your birthday card in the mail yesterday. So....you probably won't get it until Saturday. Sorry about that. I suck at sending out things on time.

Dear Staff of OIEE,

Today was my LAST day ever as a staff member. I cleaned out my desk, took a few items with me (like the infamous water bottle that Kat stuffed with Starburst) and said goodbye. It hasn't hit me yet that I will no longer be working there - which is probably a good thing considering I generally becoming a weepy blubbering MESS when it comes to goodbyes and endings. The finality of things coming to an end always knocks me off my feet a little bit, a small reminder that the clock is always ticking.

It could never be expressed how thankful I am for the opportunity to work with such incredible people. You have all become a second family to me - a home away from home. Thank you for all the help, advice, gentle criticism, food, FOOD and more food you have provided throughout the past year.

Erica....there aren't enough words in the English language for this goodbye. You were just my favorite person on the planet to work with. Besides being my boss, you have become such an important person in my life. It is sort of insane to me how similar we are....even though being your mini-me never quite made sense ;) I really will miss you so much. You better not tell next year's intern that she/he is your favorite.

You have all provided me with an unforgettable experience, an unparallelled sense of pride, and support in one of the most tumultous years of my life. Please know that I will take all of this with me and always be jealous of future students who get the chance to work with you all. They have no idea how freaking lucky they are. [Make sure you tell them.]

I love you all.

Project Sick: Day II

2007-05-02T09:47:00.000-05:00

9 hours of sleep + cold meds = (apparently) feeling worse. Who knew?

Enough about my failure of an immune system.

My car radio has a small screen that tells you what song is playing on any given station. Normally, it comes across the screen a few words at a time.

Yesterday, I was listening to HJY and "You Can't Always Get What You Want" by the Stones was playing.

And my radio screen displayed this:

You Cant Alway's Gaet Wha:t You W'ant Ro'lli:ng Stoo;nes

I think I need to call Fergie Ferg asap. She is obviously an excellent speller. And could teach my radio a thing or two.

Hack. Cough. and Rosie.

2007-05-01T10:18:00.000-05:00

I'm a little sick. I think. Or it could just be a sneak attack of seasonal allergies that has caused my entire head to feel all balloon-y. But whatever it is, I feel ICKy. Icky and tired. Icky, tired, and stressed because there are 3 exams and a paper standing between me and graduation. Oh that and I have to explain to my landlord (who I don't think likes me very much and shows it in well, passive agressive ways.) that I can't give her the entire rent today. What a fun conversation that will be. I can just see it now, she will smile crookedly and say ok and then I will hear her doing laundry (in the room right next to mine) at 3:00 AM. Good times.

Does anyone else think it's both amusing and sad that Rosie is leaving The View? No? Ok. Me either.

I was a big fan of Rosie back when she had her own talk show and still pretended to be straight by having a fake crush on Tom Cruise. It was no surprise when she came out of the closet and personally I think her family (3 adopted kids, 1 biological son by her partner Kelli) is an inspiration to gay couples everywhere who want a family of their own. I know she has a very big mouth and says exactly what's on her mind without fear of retribution or backlash. But in the short time that she was on The View (which, I might add, was probably the most mind-numbing daytime talk show next to the Ebert and Roper movie review show on Sunday mornings) Rosie's presence and ability to bring controversial topics to the forefront without always worrying about being politically correct was what gave the show it's huge ratings boost.

So unless they replace Rosie with Donald Trump or Rupert Murdoch himself, I don't think the show will see any continued success. [Well, what the hell do you know? Absolutely nothing. Good point.]

Anyway, I am going to go back to preparing for my exams and praying for the sweet release of death....or for these cold meds to kick in. Whatever happens first.

I have had too much caffeine to think of a title

2007-04-30T14:25:00.000-05:00

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.

2007-04-29T16:14:00.000-05:00

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?

2007-04-23T12:50:00.000-05:00

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.

2007-04-23T08:11:00.000-05:00

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

2007-04-20T18:29:00.000-05:00

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?

2007-04-19T18:26:00.000-05:00

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

2007-04-18T15:25:00.000-05:00

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

2007-04-17T06:40:00.000-05:00

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

2007-04-16T13:18:00.000-05:00

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

2007-04-15T14:18:00.000-05:00

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.

2007-04-12T11:52:00.000-05:00

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

2007-04-11T10:02:00.000-05:00

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

2007-04-10T11:50:00.000-05:00

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

2007-04-09T10:07:00.000-05:00

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

2007-04-07T23:12:00.000-05:00

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

2007-04-06T08:27:00.000-05:00

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

2007-04-05T16:20:00.000-05:00

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.

2007-04-04T14:06:00.000-05:00

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.

Don't call. Never call. Always show up.

2007-03-31T18:52:00.000-05:00

I know, I've been a little lazy with posting. Not lazy so much as preoccupied. With lots of things. Things that I choose not to talk about during this post.

Today I went to see my little brother compete in the high school state drama competition. The whole atmosphere reminded me of when I was involved with the drama club. [Well, technically dating women makes me a lifetime member of A drama club, but...not really the same thing.] But I remember how accepted I felt there and how it really became a safe haven for me. I see that he has that too, and it makes me happy for him. It makes me less worried for him as he trudges precariously through high school, trying to find himself in a "world" that demands conformity and breeds ridicule for those who refuse that demand. But for someone who is really just beginning to grow up, he is a pretty phenomenal person.

That being said, I have some very exciting news. Today, I cleaned. Just allow that to sink in for a second. I every inch of my place. I got on my hands and knees and cleaned top to bottom and all corners. It was a pain in the ass - but when I was done, the place actually felt like somewhere I wanted to hang out.

And finally, a display of my self-expression.

Strange Happenings on Hump Day

2007-03-28T12:25:00.000-05:00

It’s only early afternoon and already this day is turning out to be spectacularly weird.

This morning, while getting coffee, I ran into someone who I do not like. Someone who I have interacted with in a variety of settings over the past few years and have come to believe that she is, in fact, a poor representation of the human race. And she should probably be voted off the island.

Let me explain. I don’t make it a habit to bash people, particularly not in writing on the internet. It’s a waste of time. And creates bad karma. But this person is one of the most stuck-up, self-centered, pretentious, ignorant women I have ever come across. She is incredibly book smart and “successful” [in the sense that she succeeds at sucking at life] both academically and professionally. But she doesn’t listen to anyone but herself and her mother, who I have never met, but imagine she is just as much of an asshole. She thinks herself the queen of everything she does, and not in a cute, humorous way, but in a, seriously I am freaking awesome so if you could please kiss my feet and listen to everything I have to say because I am always RIGHT so shut up and bring me my crown kind of way.

Anyway, I could drown you in anecdotes of her douchebaggery, but I will instead just recount my obligatory interaction with her this morning.

Me: Oh hi *****, how are you doing?
(read: Why the fuck are you ruining my morning coffee run?)

Queen: Hi!!!!!!!!! (the exclamation points are necessary to display her vomit-inducing fakeness) I’m doing great, as usual, how about you? Oh I haven’t seen you in forever!

Me: I’m doing good, thanks for asking. It has been a while. What are you up to?
(read: I was fine until I saw your face. Please don’t misinterpret my politeness.)

Queen: Oh, I’m so busy these days! I’m working up in Providence but still living with my parents in their mansion in Newport. I just simply can’t leave there. Bryan and I got engaged….did you hear? Oh my god he proposed to me when we were in St. Lucia in his parents timeshare, which, is GORGEOUS by the way, you should totally visit there is you have the chance. Have you graduated yet…..

Me: No, in May.
(read: I hate you.)

Queen: Are you excited? I remember graduation….so much fun! Do you know what you are doing afterwards? I remember my first job offer, so exciting!

Me: Well, I think I am going to m-…..

Queen: That’s awesome. Blah blah blah blah blah blah

This continued for another painful 5 minutes. It could have been 3 days, I don’t know. All time and space seem to cease when she talks and you begin to wonder if she has actually succeeded in destroying the balance of good and evil and subsequently caused the universe to blow up.

I guess I’m exaggerating a little bit. But you should meet this woman. You will understand.

So, I left the coffee shop, late for work and seething as I tried to convince myself that even she is a good person deep down. Right.

I get to work, and shortly thereafter must leave for a doctor’s appointment. ALWAYS a good time. I will spare everyone the gory details – because honestly, it’s lunchtime and even I don’t want to recount the poking and prodding.

I will say this. After being weighed (UGH. Wanted to punch very skinny nurse in the forehead) and measured, the doctor reported that I am 5’8.

I’m sorry, 5’ what? I asked. 5’8 she replied and looked at me strangely, because, at this age, who doesn’t know how tall they are?? Well, up until a year or two ago, I was 5’6 and a half. Close to 5’7. Some doctors would just say 5’7, rounding up an inch or two. I have been this height since I was FIFTEEN.

Suddenly and very sporadically, I have grown a little over an inch. “Probably just one of those things” the doctor shrugged and continued the exam.

What do you MEAN one of those things? One of those things where your head starts to vertically expand upward and cause the top of your head to protrude an INCH above your normal height? Of course when I got back to my office, I immediately did a google search for normal height growth in women. The results were mixed, but it seems I am not the only freak who continues to grow well past the normal age. OK. But is it going to continue?

My boss told me I should look on the bright side. At least now I can apply to be on America’s Top Model. Phew. That makes it all better. Now I’d just have to drop forty or fifty pounds and I am so in.

Is this normal?

2007-03-24T19:46:00.000-05:00

I know many women who have some type of shopping addiction. Several of my friends cannot live without their dozens of pairs of shoes. A lot of women just love to shop for anything. Period.

I am not like those women. I don't really like to shop - I mean, I enjoy buying a cute pair of shoes, or a cute new purse, or a pair of jeans that make my ass look really great. I do. But, the whole idea of just going shopping for no apparent reason....I mean, why? Retail therapy? Pshh...it's all sort of weird to me.

I do have a shopping addiction though. I'm not proud of it. But get me within a five mile radius of a Barnes & Noble or any kind of book selling establishment, I lose all control. It doesn't matter that I have a shelf's worth of unread literature. I cannot resist. I become intoxicated by the new book smell, the endless shelves of books - fiction, nonfiction and everything in between. I know that I could just as easily go to the library and read the same books for FREE. I could save hundreds of dollars and still get the same type of intellectual stimulation.

But the book wouldn't be MINE. I wouldn't be able to read it whenever I wanted [or not read it whenever I wanted] and it wouldn't take up another perfect space on my book shelf.

Ok, this probably sounds somewhat mental. I KNOW. But I can't help it!

Today, I went and deposited my paycheck. And then, to celebrate, I went and bought about $75 of books.

Exhibit A:

Granted, one is a cookbook. But still. And one is a book of essays to help inspire me to write my entry into the Writers' Digest annual competition.

STILL.

[NOTE: Yes, that is a teddy bear on the right side of the picture. MY teddy bear, Seymore. I have had him since birth. I will never, ever give him up. He is the only consistent being in my life.]

Anyway. I guess I just have to accept that I am addicted to owning books. Well, books in general, but specifically owning them. I guess there are worse addictions. Crack, for example.

By the way.

Dyed my hair last week. It is way dark, but apparently the closest color to my roots. Which means, I might actually NATURALLY have dark brown hair. Who knew?

Ah! Excitement. Crazy excitement!

2007-03-23T21:15:00.000-05:00

I actually had planned to make up a pie chart displaying the amount of time I spend during a month THINKING about cleaning and the amount of time I actually spend cleaning. In my head, it was pretty f-ing funny.

But then. Then! I received ridiculously good, ego-boosting, make my day news.

An email I received:

Dear Ashley,

I have reviewed all of your materials, including your witty and entertaining blog, and am pleased to offer you a columnist position with ****** .com.

(insert all kinds of details here)

Sincerely,

Mr. **** ******
Marketing person, *****.com

Ok, so it wasn't exactly like that - BUT - you get the idea. I was hired! For real! As a real life writer-person. They sent me a contract and everything. Like, a freelance writing CONTRACT. I know my caps are getting annoying. But I am simply in awe.

(That is what my business cards will say, I think. Ashley Daigneault. Writer-Person)

SERIOUSLY people - someone wants to pay me to write for them. This is....YOOGE! I'm not even trying to brag - promise. I just have to share my excitement with the blogging world - those who appreciate the world of internet writing the most!

Note: The astericks in the above (somewhat paraphrased) email are in place of actual company & actual boss' name. I will be linking my column to my blog, as per my contract, but I'm not sure exactly what the rules are for mentioning said company on here without proper logo and such. So for now, to be safe, I will refer to them as ******.com. The number of * will change according to how long I feel like hitting shift 8.

I'm so, so, so, so tired. I have slept 11 hours in the past 48 hours and worked 22. Hours. With 2 children. Under the age of 4. I'm not really good at math but in my head, that equation = the need for some serious alcohol / sleep. And NO ALARM in the morning.

So I'm going to bed. But I think I will dream about my future celeb status as an online blogger columnist. (Ha, ha, HA. totally kidding. I'm not that big of a doucebag) And also I will dream about being at BlogHer in July and tracking down my favorite "celeb" bloggers and begging to hang out with them. For real, I have some serious blog crushes on these chicks.

I'm rambling. I'm out.

Visual DNA

2007-03-20T20:05:00.000-05:00

This site is really cool and interactive. So cool, in fact, that it caused me to post twice in one day. I am a super dork.

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

How glass embedded itself into my palm

2007-03-20T18:18:00.000-05:00

Today was a near perfect day. I rolled out of bed around 11:00 AM, ate my favorite breakfast cereal, threw on some old clothes and set out to take some wonderful pictures. I have yet to really use my new camera [the one I bought on ebay and was a little obsessive about when I first bought it] so I decided since it was sunny out and I had nothing else to do, I was going to attempt to take some halfway decent pictures.

I drove to Newport and headed to the cliffwalk. I have lived in Rhode Island for almost 22 years and have never seen the cliffwalk. For those of you unfamiliar with RI, Newport is a small island in Rhode Island [which is not an island at all...more on that later] that has beautiful cliffs overlooking the ocean. There is a 3 or 4 mile stretch of pavement that circles these cliffs and really is breathtaking. Playing tourist in your own city or town usually leads to a feeling of wonder and guilt - the first because you realize you live next to and among true beauty in nature, and the second because you are too much of a lazy ass to go and appreciate this beauty, so lazy in fact that it took you 20 + years to venture 5 miles down the road. Lewis & Clark would be ashamed.

Anyway, instead of rambling about what happened, I figured a photo essay was in order. Enjoy :)

The first shot. Though black and white is pretty kick ass, it doesn't quite capture the blueness of the ocean. It was bluer than I had ever seen it.

I don't know why, but I really like random writing on stone or brick. I don't know why it says sleep over and over in a stamp like format. Makes for a good photo op.

This is New England. The temperature outside is 46 degrees. The water temp is probably 34 at the most. There were at least a dozen people surfing. Hard core, dude.

Doggie prints in the sand. Makes my heart smile.

So I climbed down the famous "forty steps" - which are all dedicated in memory of someone.

So I walked down the steps to get a better picture of this waterfall hidden between two of the cliffs. But I still couldn't see it very well. So I climbed further down. It was slippery, and steep....and....

I fell. On a rock. That had broken sea glass on it. Which proceeded to embed itself under my skin. Way under. Owwwww.

Ok, suck it up. There are pictures to be taken!

Pretty.

True story.

The end :)

I am insane

2007-03-19T20:12:00.000-05:00

I decided that my blog was dull. Boring to look at. I mean, I had a blogger-made template for god's sake. The other day I was browsing through blogs and came across 2 (not 1, but 2!) other blogs that had chosen my polka dotted blue/green background.

Panic flooded me. Ah! I'm not original! I'm a fraud! How will I ever be taken seriously in the blogging world?

(I know, I've created a monster)

So I went searching. I took a break from my short story writing...ask me about that later...and decided to explore different blog layouts. Little did I know that I was about to embark on a hellish 2 hour activity.

I won't bore you with the details - but trying to rewrite HTML code over and over and over....it is maddening. I was at a coffee shop while this was all unfolding and my stomach was growling so loud, it drowned out the espresso machine.

The conversation in my head:

You are being obsessive and ridiculous! Go home! Make food! You are starving!

No! Look at my blog! It's all screwed up! How can I leave it like this??? WHAT WILL PEOPLE THINK?

You are losing it. You can fix it when you get home. You've been on this site for over two hours. Give it up.

I just can't leave it like this. My stomach can wait...

Look! It's snowing out. Really hard. You should leave now. Go home, put on sweatpants, make dinner. BE ON VACATION! It is spring break. You are crazy.

Yes, thank you I know. I just have one more thing to fix on the code and I'll be....

**I change the code and hit "preview" only to see a series of incoherent letters, numbers and symbols on the screen instead of my wonderful new template, customized to fit my blogging needs.**

AH! NooOOOOO! (pause.) Ok, you're right. I'm losing it.

Thank you! Let's get the f out of here.

So I'm home now. And I ate before I finally fixed it. So here it is - the new face of The Lighter Side of Growing Up.

If you don't like it, deal with it. I am not going through that again for a while.

In which I try to use reason and logic

2007-03-18T19:08:00.000-05:00

Whenever I get sick [and that is fairly often - spending time with toddlers and infants coupled with the fact that i have real asshole of an immune system just simply does not work out in my favor] I usually try to deny that I am getting sick. I can feel the signs of sickness entering my body, and I chalk it up to the temperature change, the arrival of my period, stress, not sleeping enough, sleeping too much, eating junk food, not exercising, not keeping up with yoga....I have a laundry list of "reasons I feel like shit." Except - I have contracted some type of virus or infection from the germballs better known as the children that I watch.

I am afraid that although many of the excuses listed above have been used to explain my recent complaint of "feeling icky," that I am, in fact, sick. Yesterday, I spent the entire day in bed, only leaving to get up to eat an orange and to fill my glass of water. Sometimes to pee. Never left the house...but judging by the freezing rain that fell most of the morning, I wasn't missing much.

Today, I woke up feeling like a new woman. Cured! I thought as I showered, dried my hair and put on makeup, preparing to go out and greet the sunshine with a smirk. HA - I am not "sick" world, I was just resting after a week of stress and sleeplessness. I enjoyed the afternoon without feeling too terrible until I began to drive home - and that's when it hit. The achying, the sore muscles, the headache, the chills. I ate some dinner, thinking, again - I'm not sick. Just hungry. Food and water. That'll cure me.

Then crawled back into bed. And then, around 7:45 PM (eastern standard time), it hit me.

I. am. sick.

I actually probably have 1. a fever 2.a stomach thing 3.a sinus thing

I call my best friend, in town only until tomorrow. We are both "sick" actually - she with a throat thing. She's been sucking down vitamin c drops and spraying her throat with chloraseptic, which usually just numbs the hell out of the back of your tongue, leaving you unable to properly handle saliva. She seems to be doing ok with it, though she sounds like a boy on the verge of puberty. (Sorry babe.)

We are supposed to go out tonight, to celebrate a birthday and listen to drunk people attempt to recreate hits of the 80s and 90s from artists that we all know and love [especially when we are intoxicated] such as Journey, Jimmy Buffet and Belinda Carlisle.

But, once the reality of sick hit me, the idea of drinking six, seven, eight beers or glasses of wine seemed like a really terrible idea. Even if getting absolutely sloshed right now would be wonderful - I doubt I'd feel that way tomorrow when trying to fight off a hangover AND this illness.

Of course, I could just blame feeling crappy on drinking too much. Then I wouldn't have to actually BE sick.

If I wasn't such a sucker for you...

2007-03-16T16:03:00.000-05:00

And with every passing day, I ask myself why I still live here. Why, season after season of mostly gross, miserable, unappealing weather, I choose to remain in New England. Perhaps it is because I am sucked in by the appeal of the (very short) spring and summer months and the beautiful (though sometimes wet & humid) weather they bring. In the summer, it is easy for Rhode Island to lure you in with its beautiful coastline, its serene sunsets and its way of transforming into a bustling touristy beach town right before your eyes. It is easy to be seduced by morning yoga on the beach, homemade ice cream from Brickley's, and outdoor festivals and concerts almost everywhere you look. Rhode Island takes on another life in the summer - it comes out of hibernation and begins to look like a place where people actually enjoy being outdoorsy.

But just as she takes you in and makes you feel all comfortable, warm and happy, a cold front moves in around early September that will empty the beaches and remind us all that cold rain, snow and cloudy days are around the corner. Growing up and loving Rhode Island is somewhat like an abusive relationship. There's the tension - the fall months, as it gets colder and grayer, the bitterness of winter peeking in every so often to make sure we are all sufficiently depressed....then the explosion -winter, which can be marked by the first day the temperature drops below 40 degrees in the morning and doesn't end until usually mid-April, when the moderate temperatures prove themselves to be more stable and permanent than they did in March. [Case in point: Earlier this week, it was 55 degrees, sunny, breezy....all around perfect. Just perfect enough to make me believe that perhaps spring was upon us. I left my window open as I slept. The birds chirped in the morning. And then, with the blink of an eye, I awake to find the yard covered in snow and sleet, my car covered in a thick layer of what can only be described as sludge. And it is 24 degrees outside my friends. 24.]

Where was I. Ah yes, the key part of the cycle of abuse. The honeymoon stage. Better known to us Rhode Islanders as summer. Summer can sometimes be too hot, but generally speaking is wonderfully warm during the day, cool enough at night, and brings a spark of life back that was probably lost during that last sleet storm while you were walking to your car with your umbrella being blown in the wind and your face frozen by the very cold rain. The honeymoon is what keeps us around. It's why we brave the bitter cold months. It's why we don't all pick up and move our entire state to Hawaii [we're small, I'm sure we could find a small island somewhere to all inhabit. we're bringing the red sox too. just so you all know.]

Well that and everyone in Rhode Island who grew up here is scared that the rest of the world is very dangerous. And very big.

My father on going to Italy over the summer on vacation, "I'm not going to Italy at a time like this! There are terrorists everywhere, people want to kill Americans, we'd all be forced to run around naked with chickens infected with bird flu while singing the national anthem!"

Alright, that might be a slight [slight] exaggeration. You get the idea.

But here I am. Fooled by Rhode Island's promises of warm summers and a plethora of beach days. I'm planning on breaking this cycle soon, I swear. I'm going to throw buckets of ice at myself anytime during the summer that I find myself swayed into staying, just to remember the feeling I had this morning while wiping said sludge off my car.

If I forget though - will you please remind me? Thanks.

Grade 16

2007-03-13T18:33:00.000-05:00

It would be an understatement to say that I am sick of school. I basically have been in school since I was a fetus and quite honestly, I'm just not sure I have another paper or midterm in me. Though my four years of college have been at times enlightening, occasionally distracting, fairly sobering (although not all spent entirely sober) and almost always hysterical, I need someone to hand me a fork. Because, dear readers, I am done in the most extreme sense of the word.

But here I sit, about to embark on yet another midterm study session, cramming half a semester's worth of information into the tired prune that is my brain. Of course, this blog is only one of many tools I have used to distract my feeble mind from getting any actual work done. In no particular order, I have: checked my myspace (twice), looked at everyone's profiles on facebook (spring break pictures are both hysterical and horrifying), checked my email, read the NY Times online, checked the weather for the weekend, written in my planner, gotten coffee, made mindless conversation with the very cute barista and her very cute girlfriend (pathetically cute couple...makes me wonder: does perfect harmony in a relationship really exist? yet another inquiry into distraction...)

You get the (very drawn out) point.

Well actually, the point is, I am 6 weeks away from finishing my senior year of college and obtaining my bachelors degree (barring a short Math class I have to take during the first summer session due to a pompous economics professor and my refusal to keep my mouth shut during his ego-boosting rants and condescending words....much longer story). More specifically, I am 6 weeks away from being able to apply for jobs that require a BA....6 weeks away from freedom from homework, from last minute stress, from resigning myself to the fact that I am in a less than rigorous academic environment and I have exhausted any excitement or passion I once had for my major.

I am worried that the fervor and thrill that I entered college with is gone forever and that I am about to enter the working world and discover that life is just a few great moments and in between a series of dullness and stability. But I am more worried that I simply do not know exactly how to get where I would like to be. I see the destination just over the horizon, but I simply have no clear path that will lead me straight there. My mother reminds me frequently that I have so much time left, more time left that I even realize, and that I need to be patient. I'm not exactly sure what she means by this - either she has concocted an immortality elixer and is planning on slipping it into my ice tea when I'm not looking...or she is attempting to bestow the wisdom that comes with age. The wisdom that almost everyone older than me has told me my whole life - Don't rush it. Life goes by fast enough.

What they fail to see is that I'm not rushing life. Life, in essence, has always rushed me. If I didn't run just slightly faster, I think it would envelop me into a chaotic universe in which I had no control, in which my life was poured out in front of me without any input whatsoever.

What the hell am I talking about?

I should get paid to rant and ramble. I am perfect at it.

Rewind

2007-03-07T22:59:00.000-05:00

Going through my old blog on myspace, I came across one titled "10 things you never thought you needed to know about me" and thought I would share.

1. i love cucumbers on my bagel with cream cheese. mmmm [i know it's weird. but so SO good]

2. i have a sweatshirt fetish. i just love them. they are comfy and warm. white sweatshirts are my favorite, though at the moment, i do not own a white sweatshirt. [sad face]

3. When i was little, i dreamed about becoming president of the united states. no joke.

4. when reading a book, i rarely read every single word. i still enjoy literature and appreciate good writing. i just cannot for the life of me slow down to read every. single. word.

5. i own the three CD disc set of michael bolton's greatest hits. [shhhh keep this on the DL]

6. i cry fairly easily but HATE to cry in front of other people.

7. i have a large birthmark on my right thigh that resembles a map of north america. it used to resemble a map of austrailia when i was little, but when my thighs expanded [thank you puberty and wonderful genes], so did the "map." and, there is a small freckle in the upper right hand corner where new england would be. my mom used to say that it was a "you are here" map.

8. secretly, i wish i could pursue a career as a comedienne. i love love love making people laugh. runs in the family.

9. if i turn out exactly like my mother, i would be the luckiest woman alive.

10. the first girl i ever had a real crush on [2nd grade] had glasses, freckles and dark brown hair. apparently i have had a "type" since I was 7.

A series of requests

2007-03-05T21:58:00.000-05:00

To mother nature:
I realize that officially spring isn't scheduled to begin until the 21st. But teasing us with temps in the high 50s this weekend was just cruel if you didn't intend for it to stay warm. February sort of kicked our asses, and we could all use a nice warm spring breeze. Also, I'm really fucking sick and tired of being asked "Is it cold enough for ya?"

To the new dog:
Stop pooping in the laundry room. It is such a random place to choose to drop one and it makes me think that you do it on purpose simply to be a pain in the ass.

To parking services:
I have managed to avoided getting ticketed by you good for nothing overpaid jackasses...so I have no personal vendetta against you this semester. However, today you were TOWING cars out of the Plains Road commuter lot where, every day, there are hundreds of empty spots. That is just a new low. Every time I see one of your cars, I hum the Grinch song. It is extremely fitting and well-deserved.

To my brothers:
Please be kinder to Mom. She loves you both more than you even comprehend and she is only trying to help. I realize you are self-absorbed teenagers (I was there once too, I understand) and you are sick of parental involvement. But she needs some kindness and compassion. Try to muster some up.

To my credit card company,
Enough with the phone calls. I know. I owe you money. I owed you money last month, I owe you money this month. I still don't own clothes I bought in 2004 at the Gap. I get it. But do you think I enjoy being in debt? Do you really think I have all kinds of money in the bank and just like racking up finance charges and bad credit? Have you experienced many people who exhibit this behavior? Didn't think so. Leave me alone.

To Arizona:
Please stay hot this weekend. I need some warm sunshine.

Shameless plug

2007-02-28T09:46:00.000-05:00

I will not pretend or hide it...I am plugging an event in Rhode Island that is near to my heart. It's my blog....I'm allowed to have a post without substance once in a while.

The University of Rhode Island Peer Advocates present:

the 5th annual production of Eve Ensler's "The Vagina Monologues"

Thursday, 3/1/07 @ 7:30 PM
Friday, 3/2/07 @ 7:30 PM
Saturday, 3/3/07 @ 7:30 PM

in the Memorial Union Ballroom at the URI Kingston Campus

Tickets are $7 with a student ID
$10 General public

ALL proceeds go to the Violence Against Women Prevention Program at URI.

It's a great cause - please come out and support these amazing women. :)

hi, my name is Ashley

2007-02-23T16:55:00.000-05:00

And I'm an ebay-a-holic.

I have always loved eBay, but it has only recently dawned on me that it is not normal to spend 4 consecutive hours searching for red sox tickets, SLR 35 mm cameras, and beaded jewelry from india and japan.

[shrug.]

I get a little overjealous with my bidding sometimes though. I start bidding on a few very similar items and then hold my breath as all the auctions end, praying that I am outbid on all of them because the truth is, I don't need a book on zen gardens. I just don't. [Even if it was 75% off retail value.]

People make fun of me but I have gotten some cool shit on eBay for WAY less than face value. Things I have bought:

1. $300 floor seats to Madonna [EACH] for $75 each. I could have reached out and
touched her at one point.
2. So many Red Sox tickets. Once to a sold out game against the Yankees. Not
terrible seats either.
3. A BRAND new, still in the box, never been used Olympus SLR 35 mm camera with 20" lens and case. With a year warranty. It is worth $400, I paid less than $100.

So laugh on, oh ye of little faith [and thriftness]. But what other people want to get rid of, I will gladly pay 75% off for. Now if you could only buy fabulous Carribean vacations on ebay. I'd be all over that shit.

Musical Memories

2007-02-13T22:16:00.000-05:00

Anyone who knows me has some idea of the importance music plays in my life. I couldn't even begin to describe in words the place music holds in my life (so why am I blogging...? right, I'm getting there.) The truth of it is, there have been times in my life when music was really all I needed to help get me through. Music has such a powerful ability to instill creativity, fuel revolutions, express empathy and make everyone dance. While one song could help heal your broken heart, another will force you feel the weight of the world and the pain of losing someone so important.

I realize not everyone is this intense about music. I know a lot of people who don't even know all the words to their favorite songs. But even if you don't have an intricate knowledge of music and are not musically inclined at all - I can almost gurantee that there are songs that have the ability to transport you back to a certain place and time in your life.

For me, this is an intensely powerful force music has over me. It is comparable to stepping outside on a bitterly cold day and feeling that gust of wind almost knock the air clear out of your lungs. Or the shock you feel when you jump into a pool and your body first slices through the surface of the water. Or the quickening of your heart beat when you first realize you are in love. Some songs have the most insane ability to literally make me feel exactly how I felt at a certain moment in my past. The memory of that time becomes so vivid in my brain, not just as pictures, but as emotions, as colors, as sounds....the sense of touch and smell.....it is as forceful as a sudden jolt of deja vu, stronger even, because it is not just a sense that I have been there, but the reminder of somewhere I was, somewhere I will never be again.

As my iTunes shuffles through the 1000 + songs on my playlist, I find myself having to skip many of the songs, as they remind me of painful past memories....or wonderful past memories that ended in pain. Or memories where I was so incredibly elated with my life that just remembering it brings tears to my eyes and slowness to my breath.

How music gained this much control over me, I will never know. But as I sit here and listen to one of the first songs that ever made me think of the love of my life....I am overwhelmed. And somewhat relieved that I still am able to feel so powerful just through thought.

A Recap (and I'm not broken!)

2007-02-06T15:08:00.000-05:00

Let me just start off by saying the following:

Vermont is incredible and I did not injure myself at all snowboarding.

Now on to the details.

Jenn and I left Rhode Island a little later than expected on Friday morning. Who I am kidding, we expected to not wake up when the alarm went off....so a little later than planned. There was 3 inches of snow on the ground in South County when we embarked on our journey north, which was a very good sign. The drive up through Massachusetts and New Hampshire was relatively uneventful.

Once we hit Vermont, however, we entered a different world. I'm not sure how or why this happened, but the scenery around us went from blah to breathtaking in a matter of miles. In addition to the mountains and the cute villages scattered on the landscape, there was a sense of calm there. At noon time on a Friday, it seemed like we were the only car on the road.

Jenn was determined to see a moose and therefore had pseudo conversations with them every time we passed a "moose crossing" sign.

"Come on moose! You've got the next 3 miles to come out and show your face to me"

She did this at every single moose crossing sign on the trip up and back. We did not see one single moose - you can imagine her disappointment. I was beginning to think the moose were purposely not coming out just to spite her. Or maybe they were all at a moose convention in Canada that weekend. It's hard to say really. But we definitely did not see any moose. It was a shame.

We stayed in Burlington the first night and I experienced the wonderfulness of this tiny, unique city. It is very vegetarian friendly, it is quaint and charming but funky and chic at the same time. I really did love it...and can imagine that in the summer time, it must feel like one of the most wonderful places on earth. I ended up buying probably the greatest t-shirt that has ever been made. It is a tribute to both Vermont and Sadie, Jenn's dog, who also happens to be a black lab. And the most wonderful dog that has ever lived. I am full of superlatives and emphatic terms of endearment tonight....but it is the only way to properly describe my Vermont experience.

The shirt:

If you're not as in love with dogs as I am, you might not understand how wonderful this is.

So we left Burlington, reluctantly, and headed south towards Stowe where I would attempt to glide down a mountain on a small piece of fiberglass. I know, I didn't think it was such a great idea either.

Oddly enough, not only did I not injure myself - I liked it - a lot! And I wasn't terrible either. Granted I spent enough time on my ass for an Australian ski instructor to look at me pathetically and ask, "Is this your first time?" Nah, I just love slamming my ass against firmly packed snow. Jesus. Even more hysterical is the fact that little kids were zooming past me on their little skiis and snowboards....without fear at all. Jenn pointed out that because kids aren't afraid of much, they don't hesitate while going down the mountain which actually helps them. I'm sure they haven't dislocated their kneecap when one ski decided to stick into the snow and not release from the boot, completely twisting their leg as if it could move independent from their torso. At any rate, ignorance really is bliss.

The woman who ran the inn was a trip - Alice gave us a very warm welcome and the sense that she was probably very lonely and loved when people came into the office to talk to her. I found this out while attempting to get some hot chocolate and check my email after we returned from the mountain. She cornered me near the hot water pot and began to ask me about our trip so far. I mentioned we had been to Burlington before coming to Stowe and she made sure to warn me of the dangers of a "big city." It was all I could do to not laugh, as I supressed my smile and nodded solemly, yes, Burlington, with all of those outdoorsy, dreadlock wearing hippies and free spirits....they might force you to wear tye dye and be one with nature. Oh the horror!

It was kind of her to warn me. She also made some comment about college students and working full time - something to the effect of "I don't know they do....stay up all night and work all day. That's how they get into the drugs, help keep em awake. My god, I don't know how they do it." Yeah....I know writing my position paper for Ethical Problems in Modern Society was really when I hit rock bottom with my heroin addiction. Doing lines in the library while reading Kant. Damn. Alice is so wise.

All mocking aside, she was very kind and our stay at the inn was pleasant....though the free "breakfast buffet" left a lot to be desired. Nothing like a mound of refined starches to start your day!

In truth, it was a great long weekend and I miss Vermont already. Though I have sworn up and down I would never move north where it is COLDER than here (see my chipmunk blog for further understanding), I could definitely picture living in Burlington. Even if it is a dangerous big city.

And don't worry, I bought some maple syrup. How could I leave without it?

A little too much wine...and some photography

2007-02-01T17:27:00.000-05:00

Accident Prone

2007-01-31T14:59:00.000-05:00

My parents have said many times that they should purchase an ambulance as our family vehicle since our family is extremely accident/sickness prone.

I am no exception to this wonderful family trait. I am a klutz, injury myself in bizarre ways and have a wimpy immune system. I have been in the hospital for such things as : almost slicing my thumb off by opening a soup can, dislocating my knee cap while doing layups at basketball practice, and getting a concussion after passing out after being bitten by a dog. Not even cool injuries....not from heroic efforts, not from intense, extreme sports. Just basic activities. I have considered buying a bubble to live in, but that's just not a convenient way to live. So I just suck it up, try to be as careful as possible, and pray that my next visit to the emergency room isn't because I lost in a battle to a non-perishable food item.

That being said, I am going snowboarding this weekend. Before I get into this, let me just tell you that I have attempted a winter sport before. I have skiied a few times, injuring myself every. single. time. I had fun skiing, before I sprained my wrist/disclocated my knee. But I'm just not terribly coordinated. It's an unfortunate truth that I must face if I ever want to be able to laugh at how ABSURD my track record of getting hurt is.

So snowboarding. Why, you might ask? Well, I think it will probably be fun....and hopefully not too painful. Truthfully, my sort of girlfriend (?) is the reason I am going. She loves to snowboard and doesn't get to go nearly as often as she would like. The winter hasn't really provided wonderful conditions for snowboarding either. So of course I was excited about booking a trip up to Vermont to snowboard. I figure she's going to make me try it eventually, and escaping for a weekend away with her is hard to pass up.

Here's what I'm really concerned about. Breaking my ass. You might laugh, but from what I've heard, your ass takes quite a beating. And if ANYONE is going to break their ass, it's going to be me. I certainly don't want to show up at work next week with one of those ridiculous donuts to sit on. I will never hear the end of it - my coworkers, while hysterical, are merciless when it comes to these things.

Well, wish me luck. If you don't hear from me for a while, you can assume I am in a hospital up in the mountains in a full body cast. I promise to write once they cut me out.

I'm thinking about becoming a chipmunk

2007-01-25T22:27:00.000-05:00

Here is the thing. I have a strong disdain for winter. More specifically, any time of year when the temperature drops below 50 degrees. You would think I grew up in a warm climate, a place where the sun shone brightly for more than three quarters of the year and going to the beach in December was completely normal.

But I did not. I grew up in the snowy cold winters of New England. People in New England like to say, If you don't like the weather, wait a minute. Which I suppose is valid....the weather here does change often. But for the most part, winter is cold. You have to dress in layers and pray to god that your extremities have enough blood flowing to them so as to prevent any type of frostbite. It's just unnatural for it to be that cold. More precisely, it is unnatural to venture outside when it is that cold.

I know I just sound bitter about the winter - but hear me out. All of nature (well, most of nature) hides in the winter time. Birds fly south, fish in small bodies of water swim the bottom of the water where it is warmer and stay still under the frozen ice, bears and other woodland/foresty type creatures store up food all year round until the temperature drops and then they hibernate. Simply, they sleep.

This is why, I've decided, I'd like to become a chipmunk. Why you ask? Chipmunks are cute little woodland animals, but more importantly, they store up food in their cheeks. How ingenius is that? They store up their food and then for the most part, they live in trees and sleep all winter.

Ok, so maybe that's not exactly what happens. In my head, that's what hibernation means. But then again, I am not an animal expert. I do know that walking outside in the winter makes me angry. Not at anything in particular, just at the air for making my lips chapped, my skin dry and my hands feel frozen 24/7. This is why I'd like to transform myself into a hibernating animal.

Then I wouldn't have to get up and venture outside for things like class or work, you know - "important" things. ;) I also wouldn't feel obligated to work out or be productive. I could just gorge myself on all kinds of yummy, filling foods and then fall asleep. When I wake up, it will be warm again and I can stop feeling like a grumpy ass bear and start feeling like a normal, functioning individual whose body temperature doesn't feel like it's nearing 90 degrees.

This is chipmunk, signing off. Tomorrow is supposed to be 16 degrees in this area. god speed.

She works hard for the money

2007-01-23T18:53:00.000-05:00

I hate money. Maybe this is because I have none. My guess is that most people who are broke hate money....or more accurately, the lack thereof. I doubt that millionaires sit around their beautiful beachfront mansions and discuss how much they just hate the three million they just made on their last movie.

Here's what I hate about money the most. The less you have, the more people take from you. The bank is a perfect example of an institution that bases much of its business on this this idiotic principle. If you overdraw your account, they charge you money. So let's say you have $14 and you make a purchase with your debit card for $18. Now, I'm not mathematician or anything, but I think that means you have -$4. And then, the bank charges you $20 for not having enough money in the first place. So now, you have NOT no money. You only wish you had $0....but you don't even have that much. Then the bank sends you a little note in the mail.

Dear Poverty Stricken Individual,

Recently we have noticed you are having some budgeting issues and your account was overdrawn by $4. We empathize with your situation. Therefore, we have charged the $20 overdraft fee to your account. Your account is now -$24.

Sincerely,

Your Bank
# I in Customer Inconvenience.

There are times when I think about taking a picture of myself wearing nothing but a barrel and eating a banana peel and put it on the front of a card and send it back to the bank.

Dear Ass Monkeys,

Recently I noticed that you took $20 of the less than no money I already had in my bank account. Being in banking, one would assume your accounting skills are top of the line. Therefore, I wonder why you act surprised that I am in debt, seeing as you charged me money for having no money. If you could perhaps take your empathetic feelings towards my recent impoverished situation and maybe give me BACK the $20 that you took that didn't really exist in the first place, that would be swell. As always, thanks for not fucking me big time.

Sincerely,

Another broke customer.

Coffee talk

2007-01-20T16:35:00.000-05:00

For the past two hours, I have been sitting in a local coffee shop getting some work done and browsing the internet for potential jobs and summer fellowship opportunities. In addition to being productive, I have also been listening to a woman sitting at the tables next to me discuss literally her entire life story. She is sitting with two men, neither of which are her husband, I know this because I know her husband is deceased. I know THIS because she talked about him and their home in Hudson Valley where she was a teacher for over 25 years. I won't subject you to anymore information about said woman....but let's just say that she has barely stopped talking long enough to take a breath or sip her coffee.

The men didn't say much, responding occasionally with comments but only barely open their mouths before she was off and running again with yet another anecdote from her life. She laughed at her own jokes, she answered her own questions, she discussed her likes and dislikes as if she was on a first date with herself.

It has been mind numbing. I understand that people come to coffee shops to talk - but there is no need to loudly talk incessantly for two hours. This is what I get for not remembering my headphones. I could be blasting John Legend right now and enjoying my coffee peacefully. Instead, I am learning that Woman A likes to listen to books on tape in her car instead of listening to music and that books on tape are the way she became interested in submarines.

Enough said.

So...you know that cliche that everyone has the "senior freak-out" - the crisis that occurs for everyone about to graduate from college? I didn't think it was going to happen to me. I truly didn't believe that I was going to find myself panicking about an event that I have been prepared for for years now. I guess I try to portray the calm, cool, collected version of myself I'd like everyone to see....when on the inside, there is a volcano of anxiety about to errupt and cause me to watch Roseanne reruns until 3 AM on Nick at Nite due to insomnia.

Speaking of which. Does it bother anyone else that Family Matters, Roseanne and Full House are all now played on Nick at Nite? When I was little, Nick at Nite played I Love Lucy and Mork & Mindy re-runs. Old shows. Shows in black and white or fuzzy color....not shows with Steve Irkel! What is happening - are these shows consider old now? How can TGIF shows be on Nick at Nite????? Where is Mr. Cooper when I need him?

I know I'm not "old." But for some reason, 22 just sounds strange. Responsible even. And now this. If Salt N Peppa start playing on the B 101 oldies station here, my quarter life crisis will be in full swing.

Ta-da!

2007-01-19T14:02:00.000-05:00

After many, many blog posts on my myspace page, I have decided to join the world of actual blogging...which I am told includes everyone from major celebrities, to your average professional, new parents, all the way down to computer nerds.

So welcome to my blog. I suppose my reasons for wanting to do this vary, from pure narcisism to a genuine interest in human nature, life's many paradoxes, and being able to discuss all of this things in prose form. If you'd asked me when I was in my early teens what I wanted to be when I "grew up," I suppose I'd probably have said a writer. I began journaling when I was seven (perhaps some of my most profound work was done in the diary...) and haven't looked back. I'm a big fan of poetry, although it isn't my forte when it comes to actual writing styles. My poetry is usually sickeningly full of romantic notions as usually the only time I am moved to poeting (I make up words a lot, get used to it.) is when I am feeling, as my ex calls, it "squishy."

Def, squishy. Adj. The quality of having lovey, warm, gooey feelings for someone else.

Anyway. The idea behind this blog isn't to be squishy so you will seldom find poetry in here. Unless of course I am moved to write a hiku about renewing my driver's license at the DMV. It could happen.