Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Happy Whore-a-ween!

Am I the only chick who doesn’t want to wear my underwear outside for Halloween?

Forget for a second the females ages 18-35 who give new meaning to “trick” or treat ever year. That has always been the case…sexy cat, sexy devil, sexy witch, sexy lobster. And I can even overlook the over 40 set reclaiming their youth in the same costumes. The disturbing trend that I noticed for the first time this year was the preteen (and younger) market for costumes with slits up to their hoo-has and tops that show off their completely unnecessary training bras. Um…parents…wtf?


Tuesday, October 30, 2007

An Irrational Fear of Patchouli

Disclaimer: This post may be mildly offensive to hippies, frat boys, feminists, and generally anybody from Oregon…so yeah…sorry.

Take a look at this:

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“How could anyone hate this place? How could anyone leave it?” said my friend who shot this picture on a weekend visit to this serene scene. How? I’ll tell you how…

I am all for recycling...I love a good tree hug as much as the next person…yes I own a hemp satchel…but at some point a reasonable person has to draw a line. I drew this line four years ago.

It was a rainy November morning in Eugene, OR (not that that is any different from any other morning because it rains every goddamn day there). The temperature in my apartment had reached an all-time low as I awoke to my muffled alarm through my fuzzy moose earmuffs. I shuffled through my damp and moldy apartment to the kitchen where a batch of my roommates “specialty” (mac and cheese mixed with tuna and franks and beans…I’ll wait while you run to the bathroom to hurl) sat crusting over from the night before.

I willed myself into the shower and then into my “clothes” (pajamas + parka = clothes) and hauled ass to my calculus class in the pouring rain.

On the way I walked down Greek row where the “oh my god”s and the “DUDE!”s reverberated back and forth between the buildings and what’s that I hear? A collective retching coming from that sorority house?

Onward past the feminists screaming at some poor male who got a little too close and the druggies hackysacking and the yeehaws spitting their chew in my path and speaking loudly of hunting and logging.

I passed the graveyard with the creepy kids in black who pretend they are vampires and sleep on the graves and do god knows what else.

Soaked to the bone, I began to hear the drums outside the president’s office (right next door to where Animal House was filmed). The protesters were banging their drums in protest but the hippies didn’t seem to mind. They turned out in droves to dance half naked in the rain to the protest drums. Even through the downpour I could smell them…body odor and patchouli…the scent made me want to turn around, but a band of naked muddy hippie children had gathered at my back, so I broke into a run…past the Tuesday morning bible study…past my classroom altogether and back toward my apartment.

“Screw class…I can’t take this today,” I muttered as I pealed the drenched clothing off me and jumped into my bed with its contraband heating blanket that if my roommate would have know about she would of killed me for using $2 more energy to avoid hypothermia.

People who have visited the U of O ask me, “How could you leave such a beautiful campus?” It is because if you stick around for longer than a week you will see a lot more of what I described than what is pictured above.

No offense Oregon…you have some nice rivers stuff.

Monday, October 29, 2007


Ok…so I told myself I wouldn’t actually write about this whole nablopomo thing. Kinda a cop out to blog about how I have to blog everyday in November. I bet a resourceful blogger could get at least a week out of that subject. Well…I just failed so I might as well go with it.

I am not complaining about the 30 consecutive days of blogging…I signed up for it after all. But November?!?! I can’t think a more inconvenient month. Maybe next year I’ll do the ashblopomo thing and choose a better month like May.

Friday, October 26, 2007

A Fine Line Between Love and Torture

I went to Target last night after work. I did my normal path…I started looking at purses and scarves and hats, moved on towards cards and candles, breezed through house wares, dillydallied in the sporting goods and came face to face with my nemesis…doggie section…dun dun DUNNNNN!

As much as I tell myself that purse dogs and animals in sweaters are ridiculous…I am drawn to the array of designer doggiewear that sits before me. Gus likes clothes (maybe he doesn’t, but I tell myself that he is cold and needs to wear a sweater when we go to the outside hour-long puppy good citizenship class) and so he has his pumpkin costume (cause he’s my little punkin’) that he puts up with for the 15 minutes that I make him wear it to take a picture with my phone and send it to everyone I know.

Talulah…different story. She even chews holes in her leash…she is not a fan of constricting cloth. But while at target I found this…OMG…how can I resist? Luckily…all of the remaining costumes were in teacup size, so she got of scoff free…this year. But then I went online and found this…next Halloween is going to be AWESOME!

I continued my trek through the Target store and past the mountains of Halloween candy without buying any…ok fine…I bought a bag…ok fine…I bought three…but they were on sale…three for $5…and who cares if I didn’t have a single kid come to my house last year…maybe this year will be different…either that or I will eat three bags of candy by myself…again. Tis the season…for pulling out the fat clothes.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

The Return of Feisty Thursday

I am full proponent of the Feisty Friday tradition, but this Feisty Thursday stuff is a little overkill, even for a grouchyface like me. Two days in a row of pure feist is hard to handle, not only for me, but my coworkers, friends and family. I literally stuck my tongue out at my boss today. Some place that crap could get me fired. Luckily she responded likewise and threw a paper clip at me (as you can see…also a fan of the feistiness).

Smart-ass comments and general snarkiness aside, my attitude is pretty well justified as it has been a pretty shitty week. Bad news comes in threes eh? Not so much this week…more of a continuous downpour of nastiness.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007


I am having a bad hair day. It sounds so trivial…but it is really having adverse effects on me. Not only does my mane make me crinkle up my face in disgust when I catch my reflection in the mirror (which makes my look doubly attractive), but it is also causing some workplace hazards.

The crazy wispy new hairs that frame my face are tickling my nose and making me sneeze. The force of the sneeze not only caused me to eject a small piece of granola from my mouth this morning (it is still sitting there stuck to my cubicle partition…ok that is really gross…I just removed it) but it also triggered a spasm of epic proportions in my neck.

Those of you who know me…know that I don’t really do anything with my hair…I hardly ever even brush it. It is always my favorite when someone says to me, “did you do something new with your hair?” The response is usually something like, “uh…I brushed it a little…kinda…with a plastic fork?” So understanding that about my grooming habits…take a second to think about what it might mean for a girl like me to have a “bad” hair day.

It is pretty bad.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

I Can Think of Nothing Worse

Do you remember that horror movie? The one where some guy is walking to his car and there is a bad guy lying under the vehicle who slashed his Achilles tendon? It was a sucky movie…don’t even remember which one it was…but that scene is etched in my mind.

Kinda like the scene this weekend.

Boyfriend and his brother-in-law join a soccer league. Woo fun! They aren’t very good yet…but most of them haven’t played since high school…so they will get better.

Anyway…I was watching* from the bleachers, at least 15 feet from the sideline. And about three quarters of the way through the game, Boyfriend’s bro goes to start running and I hear a SNAP, CRACKLE, POP. It was more just a pop…but it was freaking loud. At first I thought he kicked his cleats together…but then he went DOWN. The man severed his mother-effing Achilles tendon. WTF? He was just running? Can that really happen?

I got him ice and touched the back of each ankle…left side normal…right side…holy squishy grossness Batman!

Stuff like this is the very reason that I avoid physical activity. My ankles hurt just thinking about it. I think I am going to get me a rascal and just forgo the possibility of injury altogether. You never know what risks will arise as you walk…anywhere.

*I don’t play…apparently I never learned to run right. No seriously…apparently this freak doesn’t know how to do the thing that every moron with legs can handle. I am working on this…but with my whole hatred of physical exertion, it is kinda hard to work on my running technique since I kinda like to stop and rest after 20 feet.

Monday, October 22, 2007

U is for Uterus

Ok…if you are a squeamish male, I encourage you to cover your eyes and ears simultaneously and scream “lalalalalalalala,” for the duration of this post.

Holy hell! I have cramps. I’m talking junior-high-mom-needs-to-write-you-a-note cramps.

Last night, while trying to relay the type of sensation that menstrual cramps entails to Boyfriend, I could not find a good comparison. It isn’t like a broken bone, or getting kicked in the balls. It is incommunicable to males. The only way that I could really get the feeling across was to describe what is actually happening to a woman during “that time of the month.”

It is the ripping disintegration of the soft bloody tissue that lines the uterus, sound fun boys? No it doesn’t. It sucks.

So yeah…give me some Midol and a heating pad…I’m going back to bed.

Thursday, October 18, 2007

What Was I Going to Blog About?

God knows I can’t remember. Today’s blog is brought to you by the word “distraction” the number “14” and the letter “F.”

The number 14 is how many times I have muttered the words, “what the heck was I doing?” under my breath today.

The word distraction is the theme of my day as I jump from half-finished task to half-finished task with reckless abandon.

The letter F is the grade I would give myself on my productivity today.

So you can easily see that today would be a great day for me to tell you that the meaning of life is…ooo…look…something shiny.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007


Awhile back I found this (sorry if it was from you…it was a long time ago and I don’t remember how I found it). Anyway, I found it rather entertaining and passed it on to several friends. We all picked our favorites. Mine was the Blobfish. He looked so sad and I felt for him. My friends laughed as they read the description and exclaimed, “You are a Blobfish!”

It was funny at the moment, but as the weeks have gone by I have had an awakening…maybe I actually am a Blobfish. Let us discuss its characteristics:
  1. It is rarely seen by humans…I’m getting better, but I am still a bit of a hermit.
  2. The flesh of the blobfish is primarily gelatinous…nuf said.
  3. It floats above the sea floor without expending energy…not so much with the floating or the sea floor, but I can definitely be a lazy sack.
  4. It lacks muscle…I’m weak sauce.
  5. It primarily swallows edible matter that floats by in front it…this is the one that is truly hitting home and disturbing me…I must expound below.
I don’t eat lunch at work. I try and only eat when I am actually hungry. But I have noticed that the Blobfish style of eating is really what I practice. Put food in front of me…I will eat it. This is especially problematic around the holidays and when you work for a construction company that likes to keep the big burly men fed well at all times. My real issue with this practice goes back to Blobfish characteristic number two.

Why can’t I be a gazelle or a tiger…something remotely unlame?

Tuesday, October 16, 2007


Ok…are you ready? Today is official “Work All Day” day. That means 24 hours of full work. No breaks, no chit-chat, no eating. Just work. Don’t even try to take one of those girly pee breaks…that is against the rules. Food? Water? Pshaw!

Who is with me?!?!


P.S. Yes I know…I broke the rules with the 2.5 minutes it took me to blog this. But come on…I’m doing a public service. You totally would have forgotten National Workaholic Day if I hadn’t reminded you. NOW GET BACK TO WORK!

Sunday, October 14, 2007

A Sandy Beach…In Your Pants!

Pismo was great fun…once you got past the rain, the fog, the cold and the hurricane-strength winds. Other than that (and the sand-filled orifices) it was super fun.

The one thing that never ceases to amaze me are the differences between male and female motor skills. Not motor skills like moving fingers and toes or speaking…but skills involved in motor vehicles. I am not saying women are inferior drivers…actually in many cases I could put together a pretty compelling argument to the contrary. What I am talking about is more the style and aggressiveness of male verses female drivers.

Is absolute fearlessness in men an inherent trait? Cause I don’t know about you, but when I sit atop of mountain of sand with nothing but air below me…the first thought that comes into my mind isn’t, “hey lets jump off this shit!” That might be the last thing from my mind actually…but inexplicably, there are boys blowing past me, leaping off this sand cliff.

“If they can do it, I can do it.” I tell myself. But regardless of my inner monologue, I am not loving the idea of the images in my mind of all the things that could possibly go wrong…mostly involving limbs flailing and skulls cracking.

I finally mustered the courage…and I did it. It wasn’t bad. But that didn’t make me ready to dive off every crazy dune I came across for the rest of the day. The boys can be crazy…I’ll stick to the path with least risk…that nice sloping one.

Friday, October 12, 2007

Nature or Nurture?…You Be the Judge.

I was writing an instructional letter to a friend who is going to feed my dogs, and while reading it back, the sheer ridiculousness of my animals finally struck me. I thought I would share an excerpt of this letter with you for your entertainment/disapproval/amazement:
The dog food is in the laundry room. I recommend filling the bowls on the ironing board, because if you do it on the floor they will knock it all over and probably knock you on your ass.

When you are filling the bowls, Talulah will start on your left and Gus on your right. Fill the scoop even with the top and put one scoop in each bowl, at which point they will switch sides (so don’t trip on them). Close the food container before you put the bowls down or else they will knock it over.

When you pick up the bowls, Talulah will jump up and down a little while Gus will crouch down and skid himself along the wall and then in a circular pattern into the family room. Straddle the doorway between the laundry room and the family room and tell them to sit. Tell them to “leave it” (several times as you put the bowls down…one in front of Gus in the family room and one in front of Talulah in the laundry room). Tell them “ok” and they will begin to scarf down their food (it only takes about 30 seconds). As soon as they start eating….close the laundry room door between them.

Gus will finish first, so wait another 10 seconds or so to let Talulah out and then pick up their bowl immediately. Congratulations…you have fed them.
Wow…I should probably give her a medal just for attempting to feed these monsters. I won't even go into the why...but just trust me when I tell you that every detail in this is necessary.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007


What did you say? Are you mumbling? Speak up!

Ok…so its not you…its me.

You know when you are on an airplane and there is that poor annoying kid, shrieking at the top of their lungs because their precious little ears can’t take the pressure and they have no other way to communicate their pain than to scream bloody murder? That was me today.

I have been off the plane for hours now, but my ears don’t seem to grasp that fact because they still hurt like hell and the world sounds like I have stuffed large cotton balls into my ear holes (which I don’t remember doing).

I have tried all the conventional methods…swallowing, yawning, plugging my nose and blowing, jumping up and down on one leg while yanking on my ear lobes (yeah…I had never hear of that one either, and they were probably just trying to see if I would do it, but I am desperate and am ok with a little ridicule on the off chance that it might work).

And I get to go on a plane again…any ideas?

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

I awoke with a start as the pouring rain slammed my windowpane. A flash of lightning illuminated the clock on the wall…midnight…exactly.

As my sleepy eyes adjusted to the dark, a shadow materialized in the corner of my bedroom, its large and ominous shape silhouetted against the wall at the foot of my bed. I gasped and pulled my blankets up under my chin, as if that would protect me.

I felt the lump of panic rising in my throat. I looked for an escape…none to be found. I thought about screaming for help but my voice had inexplicably disappeared.

A strange crinkling noise marked each move closer and closer to me. And then it was upon me…taking all the air from my lungs. I gasped for a breath while its razor-sharp edge sliced small painful cuts across my knuckles.

As one more flash of lightning revealed my attacker’s face I shrieked in horror at…the biggest…to-do list…ever.

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

October is National Reach Out and Touch Someone Month

It is also the start of a flurry of busyness for me that will last for at least three more months.

So the question is: Why do I choose early October to reach and touch people? It is like a crazy pattern for me. Late September and early October…I don’t know if it is the ending summer or the contemplative mindset leading up to my birthday…whatever it is…it causes me to look up old friends and reconnect.

This year was no different. I managed to reconnect with at least six long-lost friends. Now what? Well I am too busy to maintain those renewed connections, so they will go by the wayside until next year.

In the meantime I have emails amounting in my inbox from these people, wondering why I am such a tease…email them once and never call again. Those emails mock me and make me feel like a bad person.

So what do I do? I blog about it instead of using these ten minutes to email them back. Reasonable choice…right? Yeah I know...I suck.

Monday, October 8, 2007

Can I Go to Bed Yet?

My week is going to be hellish. I can tell. Today was my “easy” day and I just got to eat for the first time here when I got home at 9:12 pm. This week is packed with meetings and chores and lists and other things that give my anxiety medication a run for its money.

The only thing that is getting me through is a beautiful vision of a handsome man on an expanse of sand with a big blender and margarita mix. My hero!


Friday, October 5, 2007

How Many Ashleys Does it Take to Kill a Plant?


I have what they call a black thumb. Cut flowers are perfect for me…because regardless of soil and roots, if you give me a plant it will be dead in 4-7 days. But I managed to murder my most recent green gift in a record 2 days.

My wonderful Aunt gave me a lovely plant and I put it safely in the back seat of my car.

“I am totally going to forget about it,” I said as I shut the car door.
“Don’t worry, I’ll remind you,” said my wonderful boyfriend.

Next day…at work…

“Did you remember to get you plant out of the car?” said the wonderful boyfriend.
“NO! I suck! I will do it in a minute,” I said as I wrote a giant post-it with the word “PLANT” and stuck it to my computer screen.

36 hours pass…I go out to the car and find my poor pathetic plant…DEAD!

I am a horrible person and I am going to hell.

Thursday, October 4, 2007

Networking Tips for the Socially Stunted

Networking can be tricky business. Here are my simple steps to mediocre success in a social situation. Watch and learn:
  1. Stand with your back to a wall…that way you can see everyone who might come up and try to talk with you.
  2. Make sure to wear lots of jewelry so you have something to play with to look busy.
  3. When you can’t think of anything to say, just giggle and mumble a little…people will think you are talking but will be too polite to ask you to speak up when they think they can’t hear you over the party noise.
  4. Eye contact is dangerous…don’t do it…or else people will talk to you.
  5. Eat…a lot…it isn’t polite to talk with your mouth full.
  6. Find the one person you know and glom on…don’t let go.
  7. When all else fails…break into a almost jog and go in and out of doors like you are doing something super important.
With these easy techniques you can be just as much of a party goober as I am.

What Ever Shall I Wear?

Usually I get dressed in 60 seconds flat. This morning was different. I don’t know if it was the pressure of a work networking event, the amount of food I’ve eaten over the past week that has translated to my midsection or just some fluke of negative self-image…but this morning everything in my closet looked like garbage.

People who have helped me move or have seen me on laundry day understand the vast cavern that is my wardrobe. I inherited this trait from my mom…I am a clothing collector. I have enough articles of clothing to clothe a whole army of twenty-somethings with questionable fashion sense.

If I had the guts to actually record it, I would take a picture of my room right now and you would see a pile as tall as me of pants on my bed and not a single thing on a hanger in the closet.

I finally settled on the most boring outfit I own…paired with the fiercest purple pumps. Ahhh…shoes…the fat girl’s best friend.

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

Why So Bitter?

Life is good.

But I guess that isn’t so obvious from my blogging.

It was brought to my attention that my last posts have been a little angry. I’m not angry, so I did a little soul searching. I think that my blog is possibly the most healthy and cathartic thing for me. Apparently I can pour all of my angry feelings out into this text and manage to put a lot of the rage that would normally fester under the surface right out in the open.

Preblog, I probably would have had at least an emotional breakdown per month. But now…I can rage about stupid little things like misplaced scissors and stupid cabbies and that releases my bitter energy so I can cope. Who needs therapy when there is blogger?

So, to break the bitter cycle…I will share a joke that I was told yesterday by a very classy lady (you can tell from the joke):

Q: What kind of panties do clouds wear?

A: Thunderwear!

Ok…giggle inside…its ok…nobody is looking.

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Damn You Society and Your Social Constructs of Beauty

I was driving to work this morning and I reached behind my seat to grab my makeup bag to start the daily masking ritual. I felt around to the left. I felt around to the right. I came to a stop in traffic and craned my neck around to look. No makeup.


I had to make the choice then and there…go home and get the makeup or just power through the day without it. I pulled down my visor mirror and gasped...I had to go home.

On my way back to the house I fumed. I fumed about being an idiot and forgetting my makeup, but that quickly turned into anger over the fact that I HAVE to wear makeup at all. It isn’t so much about my self confidence; it is more about not wanting to waste my day explaining myself. Because I know that not wearing makeup will invite all sorts of looks:
  • The concerned person who comes up and says, “are you not feeling well?”
  • The one who looks at me with pity and says, “you look so tired.”
  • The insensitive guy who will undoubtedly ask, “what is wrong with you?!”
  • The disgusted one who will tell me to “go home” less for my benefit and more so they don’t have to look at me.

Monday, October 1, 2007

Kinda Like Hot Dog on a Stick

I feel like puke on a stick. Good visual...just think about it and try not to throw up a little in your mouth.

Anyhow, I am not sure what is wrong with me. It could be the fact that I sat in the sun for two days straight with no hat or sunscreen. It could be that I slept in the freezing cold outside. It could be that I ate way more than my fair share of mountain man food (MEAT!). It could be that I drank enough Coors in a can to drown a mini horse. It could be one of those things…but chances are that it is all of them coming together to create a perfect storm of yuck in my system.