Ashley's Closet

Underachieving

2008-05-12T23:26:00.003-04:00

Abandoned police department (I have a strong desire to be one of these people who breaks into abandoned urban dwellings and photographs them. Unfortunately, there are no abandoned urban dwellings around here, and I don't have bail money.)

All electric car coming in 2009 (and it's not even badly priced)

Most Controversial travel destinations (I want to travel to many. I also have some serious questions about this whole "me not being allowed to go to Cuba" thing. I'm too tired to get into it now, but you'll be hearing all about that)

Photos of sand (who knew it could be so interesting)

More stunning pictures (because you all liked that last time)

Remember

2008-05-12T12:12:00.003-04:00

when my external hard drive died? And I lost all of my photographic memories and a lot of my client archives? And I wanted to kill myself?

Well, my father in law says that he can retrieve all of that data. For free. All I have to do is find him a drive just like it, and ship both to him.

The problem is...I'd rather lose all of my memories and work than give my FIL unaccompanied, unprepared for access to the entire backup of every crazy ass thing that has ever been downloaded to, or created on, my laptop in the past 4 years.

All of my lists. All of my letters. All of my graphics. All of everything.

I'm going to have to say Negatory on that one, Ghost Rider.

Now let's hope it doesn't cost me a fortune to let an anonymous professional retrieve my memories and peek at my craziest, most inner self.

I'll pay it though. I kind of have to.

Yesterday

2008-05-12T08:22:00.003-04:00

was so nice!

I've actually extended the holiday, today is Mother's Day Monday. So continue celebrating!

So yesterday we went over to my mom's house to horseback ride, swim, and barbecue.

On the way over there, Big Kid was saying his alphabet backwards. I turned to Mr. Ashley and said, "That's pretty amazing he can do that" and Big Kid paused in the back seat. "Whaddya doin' all dat talkin' for? I'm twyin' to concentwate. I got to concentwate to do dis da right way."

The kid's vocab seriously cracks me up. Observation, Concentrate/Concentration, Privileges are words I hear on a daily (hourly?) basis.

We saddled up Apache soon after we arrived and I hauled little kid up in the saddle in front of me.

He. was. in. heaven!

He loved every second of it. I nudged the horse into a slow trot, clicking and saying "trot" as I did, and little kid happily squealed "Tot! Tot!" and giggled as we bounced around the ring.

I left the ring and took him on a short "trail" ride around my parents' property and he excitedly pointed to flowers and birds and trees and said "uh-oh" every time the horse sneezed or whinnied.

Finally it was Big Kid's turn and as my dad reached up to take little kid off of the horse, he wrapped his arm around the saddle horn and screamed, thrusting out his bottom lip, leaning his face down near the horse's neck and sobbing as he held on for dear life.

Big Kid wasn't quite as enthusiastic, saying he wanted to "pwactice" but that trotting was scary and he really just wanted to go jump in the pool. Whatever.

We all had fun in the pool. little kid doesn't know that he can't swim, so it can be a challenge to swim with him, but he does enjoy it.

I spent the rest of the evening sitting on the back porch reading gossip magazines, and eating steak and peach cobbler. Hell yeah!

little kid spent the day watering one cactus and amusing my dad. There is Big Kid, reciting the alphabet backwards and adding and subtracting up to 20, and there's my dad interrupting him to delightfully point out that little kid was watering the cactus again.

little kid is at a fun age for any social activity because he loves to give random hugs and kisses and crawl up on whatever lap is available for a snuggle. He is irresistible and so sweet (when he's not being a TOTAL TERROR, as he usually is). It's hard not to give him attention, he demands it.

Big Kid adores my parents' house and started crying when it was time to go home, insisting he would just spend the night. Don't I wish.

I forgot to mention that Big Kid made me a card, all by himself, no help at all, that said "Happy Mothers Day. I love you. Big Kid 2008."

So all in all, a kick ass Mother's Day! I hope you had a good one too!

I've got 4 scary phone calls to go make, but I'll try to be back soon. Wish me luck.

Happy Mother's Day!

2008-05-11T10:08:00.004-04:00

It's our day, ladies! Our Day of Appreciation for the hardest, messiest job you never get to go home from. The pay is lousy (I know, I know, the "you're pretty"s and wet, sloppy kisses should be payment enough, but it doesn't work down at the Pedicure Palace. I've tried.), the hours are long, your bosses are demanding, there is far too much sacrifice involved and sometimes it seems that no one else sees the monumental-ness of what you're doing.

We're making people!

Whenever I think of that, it's just astounding. I am making people. People who will hopefully grow up to do great things, or build a better society, or just be amazing individuals who love and are loved.

I am laying the foundation for the future. It may not seem like it when I'm wiping urine off of the floors and yelling at people, but it's just another brick in the wall.

It's one of those hard, sucky jobs that you have to wait a long time to get paid on. You'll get small payments here and there, the big hugs, the handmade cards, but the final payment, seeing what came of all your hard work, will be worth the wait.

In most cases.

I know I've posted this before, but it's very moving and I feel like posting it again and SOME of you deadbeats haven't caught up on every word I've ever written (or copy and pasted, I can't take the credit for this one unfortunately), so here it is again:

"I'm invisible.

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated, but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the
return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous
trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to
compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of- style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: 'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it. And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'You're gonna love it there.'"

I have no idea who wrote that or where I originally found it (sorry I can't give them credit) but it really meant a lot to me the first time I read it and gave me a different perspective on Motherhood, and my role as a cathedral builder. It's a big job.

So enjoy your day! Demand some YOU time. Go take a bath, or a nap. Go get a pedicure, BUDGET BE DAMNED. You deserve it, you're doing a great job. You'll sacrifice more tomorrow.

Edited to add: There's a paragraph where the formatting is all wonky, but you know what? It's Mother's Day! I'm too tired from building these cathedrals to take the time to fix it. So let's just be wild and crazy and leave it like that. And I'm not going to let it bother me. I'm not. Starting now...

You'll NEVER Believe This...

2008-05-10T16:41:00.003-04:00

I think I told you all that last time I was at my hairdresser's, her gay co-worker (who I want to marry) loaned me a book on Catherine DeMedici.

It was a book I couldn't find on Amazon because it was older, so I was excited to get it.

I started reading it the other night in bed, and set it on the floor when I went to turn off the lamp (Not sure why I didn't put it on the nightstand, but hindsight is 20/20).

MURPHY PEED ON THIS BOOK.

Shit.

This does not look good. I hesitated to even tell you all since my library infractions reduce my credibility as far as damaged books go (I've been framed, most of the time).

WTF am I going to do?

Say "Sorry my dog peed on your book"?

Try to find a new one? He signed the inside too, so it's not even like I could try to pass it off as his book. If I could even find another one.

It is so embarrassing. If my hairdresser wasn't my soul mate, I would probably just find a new hairdresser so I wouldn't have to see him again. But that's not an option.

Also, did you all recommend "The Handmaid's Tale"? It was either you all or Babycenter's book club. If you recommended this book...WHY?

Ugh. It's so not my type of book. It was mildly interesting, but not satisfying AT ALL. I can't believe I wasted kid-free time, or time I could've been reading about Catherine DeMedici without the accompanying smell of dog piss, on that book. It was a quick read, but I'm ticked I actually purchased it and took the time.

Not a good weekend for books around here.

All I Want

2008-05-10T10:44:00.001-04:00

for Mother's Day is to pretend that I don't have kids.

Don't want to see 'em.
Don't want to hear 'em.
Don't want to wipe their butts.

Let's start today.

Search Engine Shenanigans

2008-05-09T20:51:00.005-04:00

We haven't done one of these in a while, but today was an especially interesting "Keyword Analysis" day on my statcounter and I thought I would share:

"Tv Skillet Ball Pancakes" Ohhh, the pancake puff. I still want one. Did any of you get one? In my research, everybody that had one LOVED it. I need one.

"Jezebel sucks" Clearly Jezebel has ticked someone else off too. Although I'm not ticked at them. Some of you are though, and you'd better not burn any bridges until we know for a fact that they aren't just too busy typing up an employment contract for me to respond to my request that we share the bloggie they stole from me.

"Whore odor" Hmmmm. I don't know what is more disturbing, that someone googled this? Or that the closet came up? It was someone from France if that sheds any light on anything.

"Will pulling my hair back every day ruin my naturally curly hair?" No. I don't think so. I'm not an expert, and there may be a receding hairline in your future, but I don't think your curls will suffer any permanent damage.

"Pixie cut curly hair" FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DO NOT DO IT. Shit, I hope this was some twisted joke, like someone trying to find a photo of a pixie cut on someone with curly hair in order to mock it. I can't emphasize enough how BAD OF AN IDEA this is. Please don't do it.

"Paradise Hotel 2 Blog" I get a ton of google hits for this search term. Someone clearly needs to make a Paradise Hotel 2 blog.

"Ashley gear" I agree that we all need Ashley gear. I'll get right on that. (I have made progress on getting you all bracelets, stay tuned for that)

"Story people the first time his laughter unfurled it's wings in the wind, we knew that the world would never be the same" That's a great Story People print that I own. That I'm going to frame one day. I swear. It's only been a year.

"dear god please help me quit drinking" This one made me sad. If you happen to be out there, I'm sorry you're in such a bad spot right now and I have faith that you can do it. Unfortunately, God doesn't answer prayers via Google, so it's going to take more than that, but you're at least starting down the right path. Keep on keepin' on, feel free to come hide in the closet with us any day (although that may make you want to drink more. So maybe you shouldn't. I don't know, I'm not an expert, I just play one on the internetz.)

I also get a ton of hits for "Bret Michaels without a bandanna" and "Bret Michaels penis pics", interestingly enough.

Something fun to do online (if you're a total dork like me, and most of you are) is to google your name + needs. (or whatever word, but today we're doing needs 'cuz it's funny)

I get:

Ashley needs an escape
Ashley needs you like water in the lungs
Ashley needs help on Confessions of a Matchmaker
Ashley needs to get something off of her chest
Ashley needs prayer
Ashley needs to pay more attention to her blog

How funny is that? I'm LMAO at how accurate they are. Just about every single one applies one way or another.

Okay, go do yours and report back.

Luckily

2008-05-09T20:12:00.003-04:00

Wedding Story came on right after all of the Baby Story shows, and now I'd rather get married again.

This works out rather well since my future sister wife and I have come to agreeable negotiations and have decided to go forth with our engagement and then marriage.

I need a long engagement though, there is lots of planning to be done (and quite frankly, I didn't realize HOW MANY sister wife options I had...can't hurt to get to know her a little better before I move her in.)

I am thinking we can combine the Ashley's Closet cruise WITH our nuptials!! Isn't that perfect? I thought so too.

So we'll start making those lists and buying wedding magazines and what not soon.

Also, thank you Kira for this comment:

Swallow a watermelon whole, rub your nipples with a pedi-egg, and then put a cat and a dog in a potato sack together, dress it up and try to cuddle it.

Has that refreshed your memory?

If not, I'm hearby offering you my baby on loan until you remember that procreating is a bitch and we're all petitioning to make men have to do the dirty work.

It is oh-so-true and oh-so-effective birth control.

So we'll do a wedding/honeymoon instead. With invitations. And favors. And a champagne fountain.

That will be way more fun.

Three "Baby Story"s later

2008-05-09T10:28:00.003-04:00

and I really want a baby.

I know, fucking craziness.

I was already sweating the maternity session, because seeing pregnant bellies always makes me want to have one...so it was total insanity to watch this crap today. (In all fairness, I didn't turn it to this, it was already on this channel.)

I really just want to be pregnant (but not for a whole 9 months), give birth (it's just so exciting), breastfeed (I miss it. I know that's weird) and snuggle a newborn for a few weeks (ahhh, the smell).

Don't worry, I'm not crazy enough to do it, in fact I'll probably avoid sex for the next two months or so, just to be sure. Maybe forever even.

It's just too risky.

Surrogacy

2008-05-09T09:11:00.003-04:00

I'm watching A Baby Story (which I try to never do, because it makes me want babies) and the pregnant woman is a surrogate for her brother and his gay lover.

She's already had one child for them and is giving that child a sibling.

There is something really heartwarming and very touching about this story, regardless of your feelings on gay marriage or partnership.

What a ginormous, loving sacrifice to make.

How amazing that these men will have children with both of their DNA, and there is do doubt that this child is going to be born into an incredibly loving family.

Will she be teased in school?

Of course, every child is teased in school.

Anyway, I'm trying to get out of my dumb "clean for one hour" plan. I have a Mother's Day Luncheon with The Jews and that 4pm maternity session and that sounds like more than enough for the day. It is two things, after all.

Overnight Wrap-up

2008-05-08T17:01:00.002-04:00

When I walked in the door to pick Big Kid up, he took one look at me and burst into tears, screaming that he didn't want to go home and wished I wasn't there.

Gee thanks, I missed you too.

So because I didn't feel like fighting, and because it did sound like fun, we negotiated to having Em and family over for pizza and Wii tonight.

I know, I know, I have lots of stuff I should be doing instead, and it's a school night for Big Kid, but this sounds like way more fun than any of that.

So we'll get our two totally exhausted four year olds back together and enjoy each other's company for the evening.

On the way home:

Ashley: Oh my goodness, that little kid is not in a carseat in that car next to us.
Big Kid: One time, I bemembered dat Em was in our car wif no carseat, dest a single stwap.
Ashley: No! That never happened!
Big Kid: Yes it did too. I bemember, we were going out to eat, and I bemembered it 'cuz Emmers was not in a carseat, dest in a stwap.
Ashley: Big Kid, that never happened. Not in my car. Oh! I think there was one time we met them at KMart and I let her ride in our car to the McDonald's in the same parking lot, in just a seatbelt.
Big Kid: Nope, dat was not da time So dere was dat time too. But I bemember dis one all da time 'cuz we were going out to eat.

Now let me tell you with ABSOLUTE CERTAINTY that this did not happen. I remember even being nervous about the 50 feet in the empty parking lot to the McDonald's. I really hope he isn't "bemembering" this stuff to other people when I'm not around.

Anyway, it seems that the overnight was a success. Although I guess at one point Big Kid smacked Emmers and then immediately ran to LK and begged her "not to tell Ashley 'bout da smackin'" which she immediately IMed me and told me about.

Then when I arrived, Em kept whispering to LK to be sure I was told about the smacking. Finally we got in the car and closed the doors and Big Kid immediately blurted out "I smacked Em, and I'm sowwy and feel bad." and we had a talk about hitting.

It wasn't much of a talk because he felt so bad, and had tattled on himself, and seriously knew what he did was wrong. He said "Sometimes she's dest so fwustwatin' and I dest got out of contwol and I smacked her. And dat was bad. I really dest wuv her lots dough."

He's sitting here anxiously awaiting her arrival. I actually had sufficient motivation to unearth the laundry couch. I didn't just hide the clean laundry either, I actually put it away.

So I did accomplish something today.

Now I can hang out guilt free.

Life Wants Stuff

2008-05-08T12:10:00.003-04:00

Delightfully, I slept until 10:30am this morning! I think because loud mouthed Big Kid was out of the house, or maybe because I had sweat soaked nightmares all night and needed more sleep so it would count as resting. Regardless, that was nice.

I guess Mr. Ashley called Em's house this morning to check on Big Kid. Upon hanging up, LK told Big Kid that his dad had just called.

Big Kid: I'm not goin' home. Tell him not to pick me up.
LK: Oh, he was just calling to check on you.
Big Kid: I'm not gonna go home yet. I'm not ready. Tell him to stay dere.
LK: No one is coming to pick you up yet, he just wanted to see how you are.
Big Kid: Okay, dest so he knows I'm not comin' home yet. I'm not ready.

So I guess it is going well. Around 10pm last night, Big Kid walked up to LK, gave her a hug, told her he was really tired, and put himself to bed. He has been cracking out on their Baby Einstein collection, but otherwise the whole event seems like it has been pretty painless for everyone involved.

I have a maternity shoot tomorrow afternoon, a family beach shot Saturday evening, senior announcements and prints to order, and the laundry couch isn't even identifiable as a couch anymore...more like a couch shaped pile of laundry. Also, my pantry STILL isn't put back together. (I know, that last part is embarrassing to admit.)

Most importantly, I have so much in my brain to get out to you all, that I feel as if I'm going to burst. I have to tell you that I'm going green (and you are too, I know it sucks, we're busy, we don't want to, but it is time), about several great new products I've encountered, I STILL want to show you the pics from Catfish's dad's benefit and believe it or not, Em's birthday party (Yeah, that was January), I still want to share my Real Housewives opinions and various other outdated opinions I know that you are dying to hear.

It's like I need a whole week JUST to blog.

But my clients and the laundry couch and my sleep schedule (I've been going to bed at human times lately, this is very inconvenient for the closet), don't understand that I NEED some freaking time with you all.

Tomorrow, I'm thinking of waking up, and cleaning for ONE HOUR STRAIGHT. Yuck. I know. I like my 15 minute increments better, but they are getting me nowhere quick. Maybe if I can catch up on crap around here in a major way, I can have at least one day next week of doing nothing but sitting on the couch and talking to you all.

re: The Book Deal

2008-05-07T21:01:00.000-04:00

Whenever I start talking about how to make money, you all start talking about a book deal. Which is all well and good, I am honored that you would all read such a book.

I just don't really want to write a book.

What would I even write a book about? It sounds like a lot of work, and like it would keep me from you.

I would rather just make money doing this, and it be considered "writing". This is more fun for me, and much easier, plus I like that it's a constantly changing sort of thing.

And don't forget...I wrote that series of short children's stories with the main character based on Big Kid, and never sent them anywhere. I just reread them the other day and they're still really good. But who even knows where to start with that sort of thing.

It would really suck to write a long book and then not know what to do with it.

Ideas I did like: having a store or making you all give me a dollar.

Maybe I will refuse to post until another $10 (or whatever, make it $20) is raised. So really you'll all control how much I post. Like a pay per post sort of thing.

As great as the whole "get a lot of readers, advertisers will start throwing money at you" theory sounds, it's not as easy as that, believe it or not.

And suspiciously, Blogher ads says it takes 30 days to process an application, but I applied several months ago. I even followed up a few weeks ago...nada. Whatever, I can take a hint.

So, continue brainstorming, but don't be waiting on the edge of your seat for a book or anything.

Big Kid

2008-05-07T18:13:00.003-04:00

is spending the night at Em's tonight.

I'm not shouting from the roof tops with glee, because the problem child is still here.

I was thinking about just dropping him off on my parents' doorstep, but they would know where to bring him back to, and would not hesitate to do so immediately. So it wasn't worth the waste of gas to even try.

Big Kid needed a little bit of unconditional Em love...I think Vivi has moved on.

The other day we were talking about how he behaves at school when he doesn't get his way and he said, "Like when my Vivi dest wants to pway wif Reese instead of me? I dest do sumtin' else instead. By myself." Hmmm, that seemed sad but strange.

Then on Sunday he said "I can't wait to go to school tomowwow and see my Vivi. But sometimes see doesn't want to pway wif me because I dest wuv her too much. She says sometimes I dest wuv her too much, and den I go pway all by myself."

Wow. How sad.

I suspect he's a bossy little punk these days, because we made the mistake of teaching him to assert himself with little kid.

I also know he has no shortage of friends, so if he's playing alone, it's because his bizarre insistence that "ponies are for gulls" or people are "dest doin' it wrong".

So, he's off for a little Em time, complete with unconditional love and friendship.

He happily ran into their house and made a beeline for their movie cabinet, so he could check out which Baby Einsteins movies she has (I know, he's a total freakazoid.) It's his first real overnight, and he wasn't even sad to see me go. Actually, he seemed annoyed that I stayed for as long as I did.

So wish Em's mom (LK, who needs a new name since so many of you confuse this with little kid) luck...she's going to need it.

Dear Jezebel,

2008-05-07T11:49:00.003-04:00

I have been trying not to write this letter since March.

First, you won the Bloggie for best new blog (and best group blog, which you deserved). I had warned everyone well in advance that if I didn't win, I was going to accuse the winner of cheating. Which I did. I kept it short and simple, pointed out that a slick Gawker owned site with seven paid contributing editors wasn't really your typical "blog" and moved right along.

(Although it hurt, I'll say it. I often think about how you probably stole my only chance at a Bloggie. I can't hang with the big dogs I'll be thrown to next year, you know, the Perezes and Dooces and Icanhascheezeburgers of the world. Best New Blog was my shot. But whatever, I tried to be a gracious loser.)

Then my mom called the other day and was all like "Oh, that blog Jezebel is in our local paper and it's all about how bloggers are getting all rich and famous--" and I cut her off with a quick "Jezebel is not a blog, it's a website" and moved along, again.

But now...well now it's time to talk.

You see, yesterday I received an email from ABCNews.com, wanting me to call them to discuss Yo Gabba Gabba. Oh my. That is so big time (and total terror for a phone phobe, but I was going to do it). Unfortunately, I was on my way out the door to a photoshoot, so sent them an email with my phone number saying they could call me or I'd call them later that afternoon or first thing in the morning.

I know. It was ABCnews.com. I should've dropped everything. But I'm dumb, and I need money, and had an appointment. You see, no one pays me to blog, but we'll get to that. I am naive (read: dumb, but I said that already) and thought I could do both.

But apparently, one of your writers, who does get paid to blog, and apparently even gets paid to smoke pot AND blog...was able to call back right away.

First, someone gets paid to smoke pot and then blog while high? How much do you pay them for this?

Because I'll do it for less. Actually, you just buy the weed and we're good.

Second, the internetz is a big place. We shouldn't always be bumping into each other like this. I'm starting to feel like you're the Wal-Mart of the internet, and I'm the little guy just trying to make a buck or two.

I will honestly say that if Ashley were putting together a professional website with 6 other writers, it would be Jezebel.com. I also think if Jezebel were a SAHM to 2 quirky boys, had a messy house and a few hot girl crushes, she would be Ashley.

The problem is that you are great, but a whole different thing from the Closet. Not necessarily better, just bigger and different and nicer looking (although we both have the whole retro girl thing going on) and richer. We are both attention whores, we are both funny, you're just doing it better.

So, I'll get to the point. As a gesture of goodwill, I think you should consider giving me your Best New Blog Bloggie.

But Ashley, you say, there's nothing to even give you. You don't even get the $20 check if you didn't go to the award show and we were too busy getting high and blogging and cashing paychecks to bother.

This is fine! I'm really not asking for anything, just for you to say "Ashley, as a gesture of goodwill, we would like to bestow upon you our Best New Blog Bloggie for the latter half of 2008."

So really we're sharing it. I would just tell people that I won a Bloggie for Best New Blog in 2008 and if anyone asks, I'll specify that I really only got it for the latter half of the year and as a gesture of goodwill, from a kind, funny, non-evil empire called Jezebel.

Probably no one will even ask. Besides you have that other Best Group Blog Bloggie, you don't need this one too.

Please consider this amicable agreement. Otherwise, we're going to have to think of some way to draw a dividing line down the interweb just so I have a fighting chance.

Also, if that pothead (or any of the others) ever calls in sick or misses a deadline or gives you attitude or anything, CALL ME.

I'll do it better for cheaper.

k?thxbai,
Ashley

Work It Out Wednesday

2008-05-07T08:41:00.001-04:00

Dear Haully,

2008-05-06T16:34:00.004-04:00

(That's how she spells it when she's doing her kre8tv Wal-Mart spelling.)

I see that you have responded to my proposal. With demands, no less. One would think I was negotiating for the hand of the freaking Queen of Sheba.

She has a rider. Can you believe that? The nerve. Half of you would probably beat each other half to death to be my sister wife.

Here is her list of demands:

The Mamalicious Rider would include:
Diet Dr. Pepper
Pork Rinds
Peanut Butter
Wireless Internetz
Michelob Ultra
Petron
Ambien
Lexapro
Xanex (for the occasional freak-out)
NO COUNTRY MUSIC, EVER. (say it like on Mommy Dearest)

I go to bed pretty early and I really like to watch A&E. If Mr. Ashley wants a fun friend, he should probably invite DL to be his brother-husband. Darren is *really* fun and funny. Our girls are pretty sweet, and very cute. A word of warning, though, they are demanding and are used to us catering to them. The big one minds better than the little one, so I'm sure we'd have to stay in a state of well-medicated-ness to be able to endure what LLM and LK can dish out.

Also, we have 2 cats (Phoebe and Oliver). Oliver's nickname is Osama Bin Oliver, because he is a total terrorist. We don't mind leaving them here, but our LBD must come. She is a chocolate lab. She causes no trouble, but her anal glands sometimes get infected and she smells like ass from time to time. It's really no biggie. We just take her to the vet and get her squeezed and clean.

Anyhow, let us know what ya'll want to do about gaining a sister wife and a brother husband. I should probably post the Daddylicious Rider, it's simple: Bud Light. That's all he needs. He eats a cracker ever now and again. Totally easy to please."

Alrighty then. Let's get down to the counteroffer.

--Diet Dr. Pepper, fine, but don't you dare take the last one. It is also my beverage of choice when I'm not on Coke. By the way, I am back on Coke and my waistline is reflecting that. So much for that Master Cleanse (aka the flu) I did earlier this year.

--Porkrinds, whatever. That's disgusting, but a small concession.

--Peanut butter and wireless internetz--always. Come on, it's the Ashley household. Of course we have peanut butter and wireless internetz.

--Michelob Ultra...is a small problem. We would have to have three brands of beer in the house at all times, 4 if we kept your husband (another point entirely). Also, what is up with you two drinking sissy beer? Is this an Oklahoma thing? Please consider Amstel, Heineken, or Heineken Light, for convenience sake. How are you on wine? If you drink wine, we're good.

--Petron, Ambien, Lexapro and Xanax, all fine, just hide them from Mr. Ashley. We don't want to share.

--I can take or leave country music, so since it is so important to you, I'll live without it. That is not a biggie. Oh wait, what about Johnny Cash? Hmm, we may have to further discuss this one and outline specifics.

--Going to bed early--this is fine, actually it should work out well. Mr. Ashley goes to bed very early and it seems wrong for a married couple to always go to bed at different times. So you and him can just go together and that solves that.

--A&E--Perfect! I love documentaries and true crime shows, so we're good there.

Now you seem to have missed the part of the proposal where I really only invited you and one daughter. Not a husband. Why would anyone want a brother-husband?? There's a reason more cultures aren't trying to get away with that one. Just for the fun of it, what is his average turn around time on picture hanging?

I was thinking maybe he could rent our condo, for like market rent + $500, and keep your youngest daughter there with him. And pay child support on the older one, who we would keep. He could come over on the weekends and keep Mr. Ashley entertained and they could watch the kids while we go downtown, get sloshed, and only have a $4 cab ride back to the condo, because it's close. Maybe we'd even all go on vacation together once a year. Also, he could come out on the boat with us, we need men to carry our stuff to the beach.

Your cats are definitely not coming, sorry. I'm really not thrilled about the dog either. I was thinking maybe it and our white German Shepherd, Lily, could move outside together. This would make the situation truly ideal for all of us.

I don't know what to say about the situation with the anal glands. Personally, I would've left that out of proposal negotiations, but let me tell you right here and now that I will not be having anything to do with your dog's anal glands, nor will I be hearing about it. Ever.

Here are my demands, aka the Ashley Rider:

--I prefer not to share the blanket. I sleep with a down comforter all year round and would rather not compete for blanket footage. You can either share with Mr. Ashley, or we'll just have three blankets.

--I sleep with the tv on. Usually around 4ish I wake up and turn it off, but this is non-negotiable.

--I do not wake up early. I do not hear crying children while asleep.

--I do not cook. I don't know how. Expect me to call you at work asking how long it takes to microwave a hotdog. I CANNOT operate the microwave without explicit instructions from someone else on how many seconds. Mr. Ashley will probably do most of the cooking. We're a big "breakfast for dinner" sort of family.

--or clean.

--Some days I just NEED a nap. You will realize that it is far better to let me go take one for an hour, than to try to keep me up and deal with the consequences.

--I don't handle mail, calls, or knocks at the door. Mr. Ashley will probably continue dealing with this.

--I take baths that are rarely shorter than one hour. They are necessary. They cannot be interrupted.

--Stay away from my hairdresser. Her and I share a sacred bond, and I won't have you and your chunky highlights fucking that up for me.

--Do not agree with Mr. Ashley, ever. Also, if I want to bitch about him, don't say things like "At least he changes diapers". If someone wants to bitch about me not cooking, no one is stumbling all over themselves to say "Well, at least she changes diapers." Yes, he is basically a good guy and I'm lucky to have him. He still pisses me off all of the time and I expect your unconditional support in any and all matters that pertain to him and anything annoying he might do.

I think that's it. I really think you would love it here and both of our blogs would benefit, not to mention our social lives. You would work and clean, Mr. Ashley would deal with the outside world and cook, and I would dazzle us all daily with my wit, intelligence and charm.

So what do you say?

Get to Work

2008-05-06T11:28:00.001-04:00

I'm not MIA. I'm working.

I know. It totally sucks. For all of us.

As much as I like to bitch about not having any work, actually having to do some stresses me out, especially this "Senior rush". I don't like deadlines and graduation is a big one.

So I'll be back later. One of your two things should be figuring out a way for Ashley to make some sort of salary (not even anything monumental, but something that could be defined as income) from blogging.

Life would be way more fun for all of us if it was MY JOB to post 8-10 entries a day for your entertainment purposes.

So get on that and I'll be back this evening.

Quick Check

2008-05-05T10:57:00.001-04:00

Political Disturbance

2008-05-04T09:47:00.009-04:00

It was my day to wake up with the kids (little bastards got up around 7) and as I enjoyed my coffee, I decided to catch up on the news.

Not a good idea.

Whenever I make myself fully aware of what's going on in our country, I want to move to Canada. Or maybe Australia, Canada is cold.

(disclaimer to anyone who hates when Ashley gets political...you might want to skip this one)

Now before anyone gets in a huff about patriotism, let me tell you that I love my country. I love "America" and the history and constitution upon which she was founded. I love the idea. I love the freedoms it affords me (such as this very post!).

I get misty eyed every time I hear the National Anthem and can't NOT belt out "Proud to be an American", hokey as it is, at every given opportunity. The evening of September 11, 2001, I used shoe polish to paint "United We Stand" on the back window of my VW Beetle.

I love the American flag and everything it symbolizes.

But frankly, it would be unpatriotic for me not to be concerned about the state of things. We really ARE the checks and balances system here and if we turn a blind eye in the name of "Everything we do is right because we are the best", then we are doing our country a great disservice.

I think this is my biggest concern. It seems like everything I'm seeing in the news lately is indicative of a general "dumbing down" of America. As if it's pretty much assumed that we're all powerless sheep who are too busy noticing Miley's bare back to notice what's really going on. As if we really believe that we can put a man on the moon but not provide fuel for less than $3.70 a gallon, or drugs to sustain life that cost less than a Coach handbag.

These are some of the articles that fueled my fire this morning, and if they don't bother you, I would like to know why not:

Capitalism & Medicine Don't Mix Well duh. I was actually thinking about the price of medication this morning. I was thinking of how my Effexor is $100 a month and a lot of times that seems like the easiest place to cut the budget, but money really can buy you happiness, and I always come back around to realizing that it's worth it. But what about the REALLY crazy people? What if they can't even afford their meds?

Both of my bestfriends' fathers are battling cancer right now. Doctors didn't give a crap about LK's father, who had no insurance or savings, until he got hooked up with some private foundation that pays the bills. Friends are holding benefits and forming a booster club to help Catfish's family with the expense.

Can I point out that the last thing any family going through a debilitating illness needs is financial stress on top of it? And yeah I know, these things cost money. But how much profit is too much when people's lives are on the line?

Also, why are drug companies even involved in politics? In theory, their job (supposedly to create medication to help sick people) should run pretty much the same regardless of who is in charge. Right? Right.

Speaking of who is in charge...well you all know what I think. But, the truth is, we are being lied to. All of the time.

This whole thing that came out about the military analysts we see on the news basically being paid Pentagon puppets? That's really disturbing. Why isn't this a much bigger deal than it is being made out to be? This is blatant propaganda, being spoon fed to us as objective journalism. It is an outrage.

And we don't really believe that the DC Madam decided to kill herself by packing her things, moving to her elderly mother's house, and hanging herself in her mom's tool shed...after publicly declaring many times that she would never kill herself and if it ever happens to be suspicious? Because I have a hard time believing it, especially after she hinted that her client list includes D.C.'s upper echelon, maybe even Dick Cheney himself. I guess taking her hunting would've been too obvious...

I also read that we're already having problems with the ballot machines again? Come on. Once again: space travel = possible, accurate counting = impossible. I don't know, call me skeptical.

And I know that I'm a little paranoid, especially when it comes to government and privacy, but the new "federally approved" newborn screening which hands over newborn DNA to the government makes me NERVOUS. Wow. It just seems like something you should have some control over, your kid's DNA being nationally banked. Or you should at least be thoroughly informed about.

Plus, we know that I'm not organized, but how on earth did the White House lose 5 million emails? That's insane. I've got 18223 emails in just one of my inboxes alone right now. They're really pretty easy not to lose. They just sort of stay there. I'm sure the White House could've even come up with a better system than the one I have of just not deleting things, but maybe not. It's a gigantic indicator of either ineptitude or deceit.

And you know I'm going there...

The war? Where the hell is Osama Bin Laden? Best hider ever. How long do we have to be in Iraq before we just adopt it as a state?

Irony.

I just finished A Thousand Splendid Suns, loved it, gained a greater understanding of Afghanistan political history and the Taliban, terrible stuff. Truly.

However, there is genocide occurring in some countries. There are many politically oppressed, war torn countries. Are they next? Is our new policy "Be a democracy, or we'll kill you?" How do we determine what is invasion worthy?

September 11th was awful. 2752 Americans died. As a (direct or indirect) result, 4066 Americans have died in Iraq.

4066 people is a lot, and that's just the "good guys". Think of all of the leftover, heartbroken, affected people they all left behind.

And what about their "good guys", surely some innocent people have died over there, right? Some of the oppressed?

I started thinking about those people a lot when I accidentally came across a photograph of an Iraqi mother mourning her child. This is one of those things that I don't want to link to because it will break your heart and probably ruin your day (if not longer) to see it, but it is a powerful image, and a reminder that real people are dying over this insanity.

Ugh, I just think the whole "our people will kill your people until you submit" way of doing things is wrong.

This did manage to get an amused snort of laughter out of me:

The gas price situation really is getting a little scary, especially in light of the economy.

I'm also tired of all of the election talk. I really think my idea of a reality show is just as practical. Personally, if it came down to something as drastic as "guy that tortures puppies" vs. "war-prone Republican"...I think I'd vote for the guy that tortures puppies. That's my own offensive opinion on the election, and pretty much sums up my voting strategy.

Okay, do we all agree that I shouldn't have to wake up early anymore? Or read the news? It's a beautiful Sunday and I've just made a valiant effort to depress or offend all of us. Sorry 'bout that. That's what I get for catching up on the world.

If it makes you feel any better, it made me feel better to put it all together and get it all out.

We're going to the beach for a family get together with our playgroup this evening. Girl Crush and another friend that I love AND even the original Girl Crush, for all of you way-backers, will all be there, so that should be fun, and I promise I will manage to be socially acceptable and not wacky, anti-government, conspiracy theorist Ashley.

Well, I will probably be a little wacky, but I think that's okay. Especially if there's drinking involved. And isn't there always drinking involved at the beach?

Wow--link fixed

2008-05-04T09:32:00.003-04:00

This amazing story about a family who lost their three children in a traffic accident, and just gave birth to triplets one year later, really touched me this morning.

It's not too often I read news that makes me smile.

The Gift

2008-05-03T23:45:00.003-04:00

That's right...I got The Renee a bracelet with her mantra engraved on it!!!

I know! Fucking awesome, right?

It did get lost in the mail, true Ashley and Renee style, but whatever. I was so excited for her to get it that I finally slipped up and accidentally referred to it as a bracelet. Luckily I had a photo of it to show her. Then I may have referred to it as "my bracelet" a few times. Because I love it.

So we're pretty sure we now need a store, a product line and eventually a self help book.

(oh the irony)

Which would lead to book signings and product endorsements and eventually Playboy pictorials probably.

We'll get to work on that right away, as soon as we get to our respective office supply stores and buy the new notebooks and pens and dividers and such that would be needed to begin such an endeavor. First we'll have to chat and come up with a list of what supplies will be needed to make the lists and plans and such.

In the meantime, just because such a project could take a while, I'm going to think of a way to get you all the bracelets too. And me one too. Because we NEED them. Oh how we need them.

Back to the gift, the card said, "To the wisest 36 year old trike rider I have ever met. I am honored to be the Laverne to your Shirley. LYLAS & BFF, Ashley" and it was wrapped all cute.

Complete perfection there, even if it was late.

Dear Oscar De La Hoya,

2008-05-03T23:26:00.002-04:00

I'm watching the fight, and as much as I enjoy seeing you (half naked), I am once again struck by the thought that it should be a crime to knowingly allow anyone to punch this pretty face:

Time to retire to spokesmodeldom or something. You're just too gorgeous to do this until you're totally retarded.

Also, I don't know what was ever decided in that big scandal recently, you know the one with these pictures:

Was that you or were they photoshopped or what? Frankly, I don't even care. It's right up there with Matthew McConaughey and the naked, pot smoking, bongo playing session...I just wish I had been there. Sounds like fun.

Anyway, please stop boxing before any permanent damage is done. Just let the ugly people beat each other up instead.

k?thxbai

Truly Yours,
Ashley

Mamalicious

2008-05-03T13:37:00.006-04:00

So the other day Mr. Ashley was reading the comments and saw Mamalicious.

Mr. Ashley: I can't really see her from this small picture, but she reminds me of a girl on "Rock of Love with Bret Michaels".

Ashley: Holly? (laughing) Yeah, probably so. That's definitely a possibility. She's super hot and a little trashy, you know, she's from Oklahoma, let's her kids wear character clothes, gave them Wal-mart names, that sort of thing.

Mr. Ashley: You are so mean.

Ashley: She says it! I like her kids' names, even if she did spell one of them wrong. She's a trip. The other day she blogged about being drunk and going potty in a porta-potty and then realizing she had forgotten to take her panties off and had peed right through them. Then she just kept wearing them. She also calls her period panties her "bitch panties", that's what they call those little doggie diapers that dogs wear when in heat. She's too much, I love her.

Mr. Ashley: So if I click this it will take me to her blog? Oh wow, she is really pretty.

Ashley: Yes, isn't she cute?

Mr. Ashley: Yeah, really pretty.

(10 minutes later)

Ashley: What are you over there laughing at?

Mr. Ashley: Her entry about the panties. That's too funny.

Ashley: Oh, you are reading her blog? Hmm. Yep, she's funny.

(10 minutes later)

Ashley: Now what are you laughing at?

Mr. Ashley: That time when she said she was asked if she was pregnant three times that day. She is so funny, you are right, she's a trip.

Ashley: Oh, I hadn't read that far. I must have missed that. You're reading an awful lot of her blog.

Mr. Ashley: She is really funny.

Ashley: Yeah, people say the same thing about me.

So Mr. Ashley loves Holly. I'd invite her to come be our wife, but frankly, I'm pretty sure she also sucks at cooking and cleaning. She does have a career though, and daughters. She could maybe even bring one of them. Her paycheck would clearly have to cover a housekeeper. Also, she'd have to share her stash of prescription pills. And not be funnier than me, ever.

I'm sure the novelty would wear off REAL QUICK for Mr. Ashley. Two internet addicted, housekeeping failures, who were loud mouthed class clowns? Oh yeah, that would be fun for everyone.

It probably would be pretty fun for me and Holly though, and really, our happiness is what matters.

Mr. Ashley is also full of questions for the commenter who showed us her boobies. That was fun. I'd link to her naughty blog here, but she said she accidentally forgot to log off of that account, so maybe she doesn't want the extra publicity. Not that what she wants will deter the curious, who will just go to the vitamin post and look for boobies, but I'll make you all work for it.

Lots of questions there: Do you know her? Do you read her blog? Who does she write it for? Did you read that one part...? (Then I would remind him that I had not yet gotten around to checking out the blog, and that although I like boobies, they generally don't make me stop in my tracks, drop everything and follow them to the end of the internetz right there and then) Were those really her boobies? I like her.

So, a few of you are catching Mr. Ashley's attention. With your hawtness and your boobies and whatnot. Just thought I'd let you know in case your own husbands were ignoring you, or not reading your blog, or telling you that you were pretty or funny often enough.

Ahem.

11:45

2008-05-02T23:43:00.004-04:00

and not one post for today??

I couldn't let it happen, but I'm also very tired, so here is today's post.

Here's a link where you can go play games for free.

Also, go here to learn about Coney Island's former town of little people, Lilliputia. For the record, I like the word midget, even though I know that's wrong. Personally, I think dwarf is highly offensive, who wants to be a fairy tale creature? The word midget just sounds cute to me, but they don't like it, so I try to say "little people". Which I also think sounds kind of condescending or demeaning. There's got to be a better term. I have always had a fascination with little people, and it's probably politically incorrect to even have that fascination, but whatever. It's not in a mean way, it's in a very friendly, interested way.

Yep, that's it, just two links.

Sorry I suck today. If it makes you feel any better, I got a ton of "real life" stuff done.

I know, I know, it doesn't make you feel any better. Me either.

There's always tomorrow.