in regards to the last post...

...i really should stay far, far away from the internet whilst under any kind of influence. the universe had it's revenge by giving me a babysitting job the next day and making me throw up in the parking lot on my way there. looking after two kids on winter break all hyper from cupcakes while hungover is not my idea of a good time.

i'm home for the holidays now, and sick as a dog - again. last night was only 2 or 3 hours of sleep as i was up coughing for most of it. it's so frustrating, this persistent illness. i'm thinking i might have to go to the doctor, because honestly, i'm falling apart at the seams and it makes me think that there's something seriously wrong with me. the fact that i'm terrfied of the doctor doesn't help. i avoid them like the plague but i don't think i should anymore. something in my head tells me that i am sicksick, not just "oh, it's a winter cold" sick.

but i'm trying to stay positive. there is a fire in the fireplace and the tree has massive piles of presents underneath it. i spent a good while wrapping this afternoon, fixing giant bows to tiny packages while listening to tegan and sara in the comfort of my at-home bedroom. the only thing missing is jordan, on the road to santa cruz, but i'm wearing his hoodie and the necklace he gave me for christmas and that's almost as good, right?

i'm ready to go home soon, to be back in my comfort zone, to be healthy and warm and full again. for now, though, hot cocoa and my parent's big screen tv is doing fine for me.

drunk as a skunk facebook stalking people i really shouldn't be stalking. this is ridiculous. break, please end so i can be reunited with the people that i love. yeah, that's right - i said the L-word, and i'm not ashamed. i l-word l-word l-word a certain someone and i'm just waiting for the right time to say it.

oh, blue moon - you are a fickle, fickle mistress.

oh, neglected blog. you have been forgotten in the wake of papers and finals and the ever growing presence of boy. when i'm happy i don't have much to talk about and the things that have been angering me lately are too immature to give voice or word to.

last sick spits open mic of the year was last night. after a string of terrible poets and singer/songwriters who deserve to have all of their old jewel CDs burned a very large fire, i went onstage and read "music for a porch life", belting out jolie holland's cover of "old fashioned morphine" in between stanzas of the poem. i wore a black nightgown as a dress and thigh high tights and he sat in the back where i couldn't see him through the lights. i felt beautiful, like i had true talent. i've never sung on a stage before and it was such a liberating feeling.

if anyone is wondering, a microphone makes all the difference. i sound like shite in the car but when you're amplified, you don't have to try so hard to sound good. wish i knew why that was so.

finished off the evening playing scrabble on the plush carpet of jessie and audrey's tiny living room, drinking pabst, trying to pass made up words as real. stifled annoyance over petty things in exchange for smiles. sometimes it's easier not to even acknowledge things that bother you. just smile, baby, and everything will be all right.

So, I've officially decided that I'm going to join the circus. I can't grow a beard and I can't juggle and I'm not flexible enough to do the splits, but maybe I can help train the bears to ride bicycles.

Or maybe I'll just go sit under the bridge in the arboretum and write poems like I used to.

One thing is for sure, I'm gonna force myself back into blissful ignorance. Because...people are terrible and they don't deserve me! Fuck the world! Hare FUCKING krishna!

It's been such a strange morning....

edit: i'm watching my roommate do a ridiculous kickboxing DVD in the living room and it's making me laugh, which is cheering me up. my dad came up and bought me indian food. i get to go sleep in my boyfriend's bed, even though he won't be home til late, and the thought of already being in bed, warm and comfy, when he comes home and crawls in next to me makes my heart extremely glad.

how can i be angry at the terrible people in the world when i'm surrounded by so much love?

i keep expecting things to happen that are impossible. staring up at the big glass building, watching the night overtake the day. i still count windows and remember pacing, patient. the bench on the hill with the moon overwhelming and observant. the hours and secrets and amazement. i was a student from berlin. everything was remarkable and new and we were continually shocked by the ease of it all. i keep expecting knowing that doors are shut and locked, and no amount of knocking will bring familiar sounds back. still, there are places i cannot go. this is not one of them, this favorite spot, looking up at the big glass building through curls of smoke and waiting, crossing fingers, pacing, patient.

i am an addict and i am broken and yes, this will kill me one day.

"i don't look at myself in the mirror because i'm a narcissist,

i just like to watch myself exist."

sometimes i don't know what to do and i make a lot of mistakes. i'm too eager, i say awkward things that make people feel uncomfortable, i wear nightgowns as dresses and hope that no one notices. i'm poor but i'm full. i see beauty in everything, i want to join the circus. i pretend to understand music and have perfected the act of feigning interest in things that could potentially interest me, but are way too over my head. i don't own that many pairs of shoes, but i wish i did. sometimes i feel like a newborn horse, all knees and wobbly ankles, and sometimes i feel like a statue carved out of marble and unmovable. i like to quote books in conversation and wait for someone to call me out so that we can discuss my favorite authors and for once, i can look like i know what i'm doing. i pretend a lot. i talk to myself. i make plans and lists and then never go through with them. i have big dreams but empty pockets so i let myself be content just riding bikes. i get lost easily. sometimes i still confuse my right from my left. i'm a terrible driver and hate being reminded of the fact. all i need in life is someone to let me talk without guarding my words, which usually means saying a lot of stupid shit, but the right person will love my mouth despite all the weird crap i say, and that's what i'm looking for. i hate censorship. i dream about inspiring a nation of disillusioned youth. i have planned my first day in the classroom already. i know what i will say, and what i will wear, and in my head the students love me and see me as inspiring even after the first hour. i think very highly of myself some days, and others, i think i'm worthless. i love antique jewelry but never wear jewelry. most of my clothes i bought at a thrift store. sometimes, i steal things. i have an extremely overactive imagination. my favorite fruit is pineapple and i think it goes well with anything. mess stresses me out, but if your house is messy, i won't say anything, as it is none of my business. when i'm depressed, i reread angela's ashes, which usually makes me more depressed but happy at the same time. sometimes my chest hurts and i can't explain it. i'm somewhat of a hypochondriac. i don't eat a lot. i really love to read my poetry to people and get their honest opinions. if i ask you to hear what i've written, it means i trust you, and that is a Very Good Thing. i don't trust easily. i miss my cats more than i miss my parents. i feel like a child trapped in a body too big for me. i like holding hands and being kissed on the cheek.

i love really, really hard.

give me that old fashioned morphine

give me that old fashioned morphine

give me that old fashioned morphine

it's good enough for me

this is music for a porch life and sunsets and

the sting of metal

and the way your lips tasted chalky after you ate

your words before i had a chance to read them

this is music

in the way the birds exploded from

the mountainside after you fired your gun

for no reason

just to show how strong you could be

(i remained unimpressed)

it was good enough for my grandpa

and it's good enough for me

he used to live the porch life

until his shaking hands broke the needle

so the only songs he had were the

dead dear moans

it had been caught by the bullet and when

it staggered on to our lawn

i could have cried

do you feel strong now? do you feel strong now?

it was good enough for billy burroughs

and it's good enough for me

i read you bad

stream of consciousness prose

while you played the blues scale in E

missing half the notes

this is music for our porch life

self referential and b r o k e n

we started to find difficulty

in finding our veins

so we just drank gasoline instead

it was good enough for isabelle eberhardt

and it's good enough for me

it was the rain that

came up from the ocean that drove us inside

abandoning the corpses already

floating in the yard

you took your guitar and i

took my book of poems and we

burnt our wicker rockers in the middle of the room

i wore my dress long to hide my knees

like the bird bones hidden in my fist

you had a hat, it seemed

unnecessarily formal

the only music was the

cracking of the fire and the

water on the porch, rising to cover our necks

we were patient

waiting for the record to finish

give me that old fashioned morphine

give me that old fashioned morphine

give me that old fashioned morphine

it's good enough for me

i want to cry, i'm so frustrated. i'm home no more than a few hours ever day, i rarely ever sleep at my own apartment, and yet i'm the one who is forced to deal with the constant mess left by the roommates. and then - and THEN - i leave a plate with a little bit of food on it in the (already overflowing) sink and one has the gall to call me over and point at it, saying, "not cool, ashleigh, not cool."

the eggshells and crumbs on the counter aren't cool. the fact that they haven't vacuumed since we moved in isn't cool. the fact that there is garbage on the floor in the living room and a stack of recycling that reaches my waist in the dining room isn't cool.

fuck this place. i'm just so painfullt grateful that i have a boyfriend's house to retreat to, a bigger bed to sleep in, someone to tell me that it's going to be ok.

this year is going to make me crazy.

i have listened to this song every day, multiple times a day for a good 3 weeks now. something about the lyrics coupled with the delivery just hits me every time. i'm beginning to winder when it's going to get old, though, because i've never stuck with a song for this long before.

sage francis - sea lion

The force of my love was strong.

The sea lion lay down long.

Song in the air. Why should singer care?

When singer can be among song.

Ma, Ma--look what i did, Ma. Look what i did to my hands, I broke 'em.

You gave me the stone, gave me the chisel, didn't say how to hold 'em.

Didn't say to give away every piece of the puzzle 'til i was left with nothin'.

But i took it upon myself to crush it up and distribute the dust.

Get in the bus. Hop in the van. Jump in the water. Crawl to the land.

Build another castle out of sand. Break it down and then get into the saddle again.

I'm going city to city - i'm already lost. Tell the boss who is new in town.

I'll ride this horse 'til it it bucks me off and i'm forced to shoot it down.

I'll take him out for some gasoline. Trade this cow for some magic beans.

Gonna make mom proud of the deals that I made, 'cause I'm just a modern day Johnny Appleseed

But i'm glad that I never passed the genes, and I never put down the axe.

Piano man got a checkered dance floor to grace and a painful look on his face.

'Cause the crowd is packed and the louder they clap

the less he is able to make the connection between what he sees

when he hears certain notes and the hurt that is shown in his facial expression. Ahhhhhh.

I don't need your "go ahead" to go ahead. No, I know no one said it was gonna be easy,

but sweet jesus who wants to sleep with me?

Way too many moves to learn. Not enough people to put 'em on.

Look it, mom! No hands. I built this suit of armor with wooden arms.

The force of my love was strong.

The sea lion lay down long.

Song in the air. Why should singer care?

When singer can be among song.

my birthday is coming up soon! only 14 more days until i turn the big 2-0, out of the land of ages ending in "teen" and entering into the world of the Grown Up.

so naturally, i'm going to bake cupcakes and wear a party hat. because i'm so adult.

if any one is curious and loves me and wants to buy me a present, i am currently lusting after this necklace from foundandmade on Etsy:

isn't he beautiful? this girl takes found and antique charms and turns them into quaint little pieces of artwork! check it here.

other than that, i'm thinking i'm going to have a potluck at jordan's house and invite a few lovely people to share beer and good food with. maybe we can play scrabble. maybe we can sing songs. most likely, we'll just bullshit...but those are the best kinds of evenings anyways.

i am more than a little bit overwhelmed by all of this. i'm trying to settle back into something resembling a routine, but these days defy pattern and i feel naked without my rhythm to keep me covered.

keep on walking. things keep getting better. i cannot complain.

"i think you're worth waiting for."

<3

everything was all at once

terrible and good

because he was a mountain that you tried to climb barefoot

and when you reached the top you couldn't

see the air

with all the blood on the ground, all the blood in your hair that he wiped away

with a finger and a concerned look

it was terrible because there was a fire and you couldn't save your dog

it was barking in the bedroom but the hallway was full of smoke

and you couldn't breathe well enough to move

so you just lay in the grass and watched the

world burn down

you just lay in the sand and watched yourself drown and

isn't it lovely how the sky looks so murky when viewed through

rippling green waters that would have been cause for celebration

if they weren't the thing that made you go blind

in the first place

so you try to rub the dirt from your eyes,

you try to write a letter,

you tie a string around your finger to keep you from forgetting

but there is more dirt under your nails and

all the paper turned to ash

and it doesn't matter because by the time the knot is done

you've already forgotten what you'd woken up for in the first place

something about this weather makes me want to feel beautiful. during the summer, i constantly am fighting off sweaty and sticky brows, and i'm forced to wear shorts (which never flatter). but today, today is lovely. i reused my favorite summer dress with a long sleeve shirt underneath it and my new knit tights, dusted off my favorite peacoat and destroyed a pair of cheap boots in the damp. i ate peach cobbler and drank tea in class and shared a cigarette with a dear friend while we shared and umbrella. soon, my apartment will be full of the smell of cupcakes i'm baking for a potluck tonight.

my hair is curly and windswept and my cheeks are red and somewhere tonight, someone will be holding my hand.

We can do some wrecking here

Til a little color comes into your face

We can do some wrecking here

And find something to love

In this broken place

This broken place

going to go watch a soccer game, then play kickball, followed up with a head to head game of scrabble (!!!)

yes, there is a midterm tomorrow, but it's only in human sexuality,

and i'm chosing to study via practical application.

:-)

good morning, first day of school!

my bags are packed and my pens are capped and i am so, so very excited.

poetry and human sexuality today, irish literature and female german authors tomorrow.  AND jennifer is finally here AND i have a class with teresa AND i have so many things to be happy about!

first day of school outfit....what do you think?

me, circa august 2008 in new york city

in less than one week i will be on a plane bound for the east coast with my wifey for a much needed new york vacation!  one day in maryland with my aunts and then onward to manhattan for my cousin's wedding.  

the nuptials will be held here, in one of the most beautiful chapels outside of europe that i've ever seen...

then, the reception here, where there will be family reunions and dancing and an open bar (!)...

granted, the picture makes it look kind of weak, but the reception is being held at top of the times, a rooftop garden located in the heart of times square.  it's all going to be tented and gauzey with black candles and plum ribbons draped everywhere.  the picture is weak, but the event itself is going to be beautiful.

unfortunately, we only have one free day in NYC, but we're planning on making the next of it by avoiding everything touristy and instead, hitting soho for lots and lots of (window) shopping.  and maybe some real shopping...we'll see if i can restrain myself :)

right now, i need to plan my outfits and figure out what i'm going to wear for the wedding!  i have a black dress that i could use, but i got it at goodwill and while it is a sexy little number, i'd rather not wear handmedowns...looks like it's time to shop!  oh, darn.  

There's a war going on for your mind
Media mavens mount surgical strikes from trapper keeper collages and online magazine racks
Cover girl cutouts throw up pop-up ads
Infecting victims with silicone shrapnel
Worldwide passenger pigeons deploy paratroopers
Now it's raining pornography
Lovers take shelter
Post-production debutantes pursue you in nascar chariots
They construct ransom letters from biblical passages and bleed mascara into holy water supplies

There's a war going on for your mind
Industry insiders slang test tube babies to corporate crackheads
They flash logos and blast ghettos
Their embroidered neckties say "stop snitchin'"
Conscious rappers and whistleblowers get stitches made of acupuncture needles and marionette strings

There is a war going on for your mind
Professional wrestlers and vice presidents want you to believe them
The desert sky is their bluescreen
They superimpose explosions
They shout at you
"pay no attention to the men behind the barbed curtain
Nor the craters beneath the draped flags
Those hoods are there for your protection
And meteors these days are the size of corpses

There's a war going on for your mind
We are the insurgents 

my other roommate is coming home tonight!

she is the one that i haven't lived with yet, only met briefly on moving day and once a few months prior.  i'm so nervous to have someone new and different living here!  technically, though, i'm the new one but i've had this week on my own to unpack all of my things and turn the common living space into something of my own (which i hopes she doesn't have a problem with).  my bookshelf is in the living room since it doesn't fit in my bedroom, so most of the color in the living room is in my books and trinkets sitting on the shelf.

even if she does have a problem, i don't really care.   i have to put my stuff somewhere, right?

still.  i was just getting used to living alone alone, and now someone else is going to come in that i have to get used to and work with.  i guess i should stop getting home from work at night and falling asleep on the sofa.  i've done that three nights in a row, falling asleep watching TV and waking up at 1 or 2 with a crick in my neck and drool on the pillow only to then drag my half dead zombie body upstairs to the attic for bed.  oh dear, oh dear.

so nervous!

the last few days have been furiously spent trying to finish the book that i'm binding for my cousin's wedding.  as a gift to them, i offered to make their guest book, since a) i'm quite poor and can't afford a proper gift, and b) i wanted an excuse to do the only craft i know how to execute well.

two days, 64 feet of waxed linen thread, four sheets of handmade paper and an entire Strathmore pad of heavy weight drawing paper later, we have a book!

the cover is going to be decorated with a title and maybe a simple image, but i want to keep it clean and classy.  i used a new method of binding (double needle coptic) that was somewhat difficult to understand, as i've only ever used single needle.  with single needle, you use one length of thread and one needle to stitch the entire book.  with double needle, you use two lengths of thread with a needle at each end, so 4 needles all together - quite a lot to keep organized and untangled!  but, it paid off, because double needle coptic allows for a lovely braided effect down the spine of the book. 

my desk is covered in paper scraps and i have a pack of 5 brand new blades for my exacto knife.  now comes the important, artistic part - how to make the cover look stunning!

i am not here to make change

i break chains

i break dance moves.

sitting at the table, waiting.  drinking warm pabst and thinking about stepping outside for a ciggie break.  short shorts, tights, vee-neck.  soon, music will be louder than it already is and i will be sweating more than i already am and moving my hips to the beat and making people sway.

i'll be seeing him when i close my eyes, and again when i open them, and i'll be wishing all the while to trade this night for his night.  missing.  missing.  missing.

want to wake up to him every morning.

want to wake up to him every morning.

Now he’s idling 
And time is dwindling
In his mind he’s figuring out life’s about the little things 
And his labyrinth 
And all his magnificent can only keep the mice trapped
The princess is innocent
She doesn’t belong… 

i'm finally here!

so i'm sitting at my (new) table eating breakfast (that i cooked myself) in an apartment (that i now pay rent on).  it feels somewhat marvelous to FINALLY be here, on my own, but at the same time i hate it.

i love:

my very large balcony

the pool just downstairs

the lovely manicured state of the complex

my roommate, alex, and the fact that she basically has let me take over decorating the front of the house

coming and going as i please

riding my bike

i hate:

how small my room is. (it feels like i'm cinderella, being banished to the attic when i go upstairs.)

the way noise carries. (but alex loves me and turned her music up way loud so that someone and i could have private time and not be heard!)

having to climb two flights of stairs to get into my room. (my calves are bloody BURNING!)

cooking on my own. (i burnt a scrambled egg yesterday)

all in all...it could be worse.  maybe it just takes some getting used to.  i think once i get my furniture in next weekend and i can finally unpack all my boxes, i will feel more at home.  right now i'm sleeping on the mattress on the floor and it's too close to the ground and everything feels tiny and not-quite-right.

school, where are you??  i need the distractions, so hurry up!

there is an old man i used to see every day at Delta.  he would ride his blue road bike in, then sit at the bar talking to the employees and doing a crossword puzzle.  he always struck me as very friendly and full of health, and though we never spoke, he was a familiar fixture at my favorite coffee shop.

i was absent from delta for a couple weeks, and now when i see him, rather than riding his always-present blue bike, he hobbles in on a walker.  i wish i knew what happened to him.  seeing him crippled makes me sad for people.

everything is about to get very frenzied, very soon.  i'm enjoying lazing about watching E! for a little while, but soon i'm going to have to get up and start making things happen.  today is the day for all my final bouts of laundry/cleaning/packing.  i'm down to 6 days left now!

frustratingly, i found out yesterday that my last night here (sunday) requires me to...not actually be at home, so that my sister and her boyfriend can have a romantic birthday dinner with some "privacy".  i nearly shat a brick when my mum told me.  so...my last night at home i'm not allowed to be at home?

this just is one more reason as to why i hate my sister's boyfriend.  kicking me out of my own home...ridiculous.

i worry about my capabilities, as a friend, as a lover, as a listener and mother and caretaker, as a fighter and a mediator, a coffee slinger and chainsmoker, as a voracious devourer of art and literature, as a person, as a human being, as a piece of the puzzle, as a mouth breather, bottom feeder, space creature.

i worry that 

i am not good enough.

in light of having my iphone stolen in san francisco, i have found myself without a portable musicmaker, which makes breaks at work and walks around davis and housecleaning quite a dull and uninspired task.

so, my mother, being the lovely lady that she is, decided that she never uses her ipod and that if i wanted it, i could have it.  what a gesture!  that is, until i got it and realized that it was the ipod i had gifted my sister two years ago.  she had given it to mom, and mom gave it to me.  regifting to the MAX in my household!

but..hey, i'm not complaining.  yeah, i have a 4 gb hot pink nano which looks ridiculous when paired with me, the girl who doesn't really own anything of bright colour.  my only complaint is that pesky 4 gb problem.  i'm synching it now and it didn't even have enough room to hold my music, plus the music dan gave me.  i had to pick and chose, making carefully designed playlists with the music i know i never fail to listen to, and the few things i want to be able to hear on the go but that aren't tried and true favorites.  with only 4 gbs to work with, there is little room for experimentation.  i cannot look at my music library and say, "hey, i might listen to that sometime in the future..what the heck, synch it up!"  nope.  this little pink number wants absolute certainty in music selection!

i really wish it wasn't so that i get so ridicuously happy and excited whenever a boy enters the equation.  don't get me wrong - i am generally happy and excited about life in general, but the presence of a boy who has no shortage of kind words and kisses only seems to sweeten the deal.

come to think of it...that's probably pretty normal!  still, i'm used to being let down and i don't want to get my hopes too far up, just in case it isn't as wonderful as i'm thinking it is.

ok.  this really doesn't fit into my "don't talk about it or you'll jinx it" plan of action, but i can't help it!  i haven't been this full of grins in such a long time.  my house is full of the smell of raspberry tarts that i'm baking for our picnic on the beach tomorrow and i'm simply giddy and drunk off kisses and promises for more.  

golly.  what a girl!

going through your entire life and trying to whittle down your possessions to the bare necessities is a pretty stressful process.  i've just spent the past two hours cleaning out my closet and aside from clothing, i managed to get everything into one box.  the rest went in the garbage.  trinkets i don't need, books i read and reread enough to be done with...things.  clutter.  signposts from a life i no longer live.

i'm packing myself into boxes trying not to stress too much.

oh, life!

i've been so absent from this blog lately!  i think just that so much has been happening, i don't feel like sitting down and describing it all in great detail.  aside from my cellphone being stolen in the city, the rest of the happenings have been pretty damned good.

i don't want to talk about it because i'm afraid i'll jinx it, but is it possible that something good is coming my way?

we have a day trip to the beach planned for friday, with a picnic lunch and wine. oh, possibilities!!

oh, good morning.

i am doing my best to ignore the hangover that's behaving like a 5 year old child, demanding my attention.  if i leave it alone, it will go away.  i'd rather think of last night, drinking around the fire, talking with friends and the subsequent events that have my face and lips chapped this morning.

i'm bruised in the best kind of way.

it's monday morning and i'm at angela's in sacramento.
i was woken up by a text from someone i don't mind being woken up by.
we have coffee brewing and cherry turnovers in the microwave.

welcome to happy.

sometimes.

sometimes i'll be walking through campus and i'll see someone who, from behind, looks very much like him and then i'll remember and it will hit me like a sack of bricks, and my stomach will turn and i'll choke on my words and be somewhere close to tears, because i'll remember that i am here living in the absence and there is nothing more wicked in this world than being reminded of that.

stop reminding me.  can't you see i'm trying to be happy?

i am avoiding the places that we used to meet because i don't want to see them without you there.  does that make me strange?  maybe.  but it makes it easier to forget.

oh, world.  go easy on me.  

in 10 minutes I will walk to campus and study for my final.

in 10 minutes I will walk to campus and study for my final.

in 10 minutes I will walk to campus and study for my final.

in 10 minutes I will walk to campus and study for my final.

in 10 minutes I will walk to campus and study for my final.

blech.  one more cup of coffee first.  

note to self...don't drink the night before an exam.  hangovers are not conducive to good studying.

good morning, all you pretty things. <3

after being inspired by my darling teresa's list of things she loves, i thought i might do the same.  nothing starts the day off better than thinking of happy things, instead of the intense string of nightmares i had last night.

(t, are we living a double life?  we both have nightmares, we both love things, we both miss eachother...i think we might be the same person in different bodies...)

I LOVE

iced coffee with raw sugar and soy

menthol cigarettes

my macbook and iphone

skinny jeans

finding shoes at goodwill that fit me (two pair, last week!)

thrifting 90% of my closet and having no shame in the fact

dresses that remind me of my childhood

fashion blogs

blogs in general

irish literature/music/film/people (i'm in a current state of constant lust for The Pogues and Flogging Molly, even though FM is a sort of main-stream version of Irish punk.)

my job at Starbucks and my new location

my car

my lovely besties, angela and jennifer, who have my back through everything

missing him in the best sort of way

late night FB chats

bangs (and haircuts in general)

feeling sustainable

delta of venus

my fall 2009 school schedule

my new roommates and my tiny, loved, not yet lived in loft

smiling

dave matthews 

phew!  now, when you think about it, that's a WHOLE lot of happy balancing out all the ugly in the world.  can't help but grin when i think about it.  things can go to shit, the whole world can go to hell in a hand basket but if I'm wearing a cute dress walking through downtown Davis with "#40" playing on my headphones, i can do nothing more but laugh and dance because life is so goddamned beautiful it hurts.

hello everyone!!

it's only five and so far I've:

• spent an awesome two hours climbing with Lundy, getting back into the groove of the harness. my hands are chapped and chalky and my shoulders ache, but damn, it felt so good to be working out! climbing has always been the only sport i can tolerate and i can definitely see myself becoming a regular of The Rocknasium in Davis. the staff there was incredibly friendly and though slightly small, the gym has a good variety when it comes to difficulty. next time, bouldering!
• caught up with my indiana buddy. i'm so glad to hear that his impromptu vacation went well and that everything is right on track for him!
• gone shopping. it's funny how a year ago, i would have turned my nose up at even a sale rack in Macy's. now, goodwill is the only place i really shop. i got three new dresses and two tops for what one dress in a regular store would have cost. funny how the little things make me so happy. :-) i have no money, so i've stopped caring and now i just have fun thrifting!

now, i'm at Angela's in Sacramento on my second beer, eating fresh baked cookies and waiting for her to come home. Much love to everyone in the universe. I hope you all are as happy as I!

oh happy day!

many thanks to harriet for selecting me as the winner of her giveaway!  i'm now the proud owner of this gorgeous Moyna clutch:

I thought it was really cute when I saw it on her blog, but I didn't realize that it cost (*Gasp!*) 159$!  When you're having to scrounge for enough cash to buy gas every two weeks, a prize like that makes you feel pretty good..

So, thanks again Harriet!  

Today is going to be a lovely day, if not just for the fact that I have NO SCHOOL.  I can't take much more of Morton's monotone ramblings.  He confuses himself, even, which makes me highly doubt his abilities.  Yesterday, we're sitting and he's rambling, as per usual, and after about 20 minutes he stops, looks up, and says, "Wait, what happened?  How did we even get here?"  He's incapable of staying on track which means I'm incapable of staying off Facebook ;-)

But really, a fabulous day because I'm going rock climbing with Mr. Lundy (who despite having never actually been my teacher, cannot go by any other name).  Then, it's off to Sacramento for Game Night at Angela's place.  We ransacked the Goodwill yesterday and got a bunch of old school boardgames.  Hi Ho Cherrio, Candyland, Pictionary...I'm so excited!

I hope you all have a good day as well!

  

this post coming to your from the lovely harriet in an attempt to win the clutch she's giving away on her blog.

cheers!

it's a sad day in the ashleigh literary world.  my favorite author, frank mccourt, died last night.  i can't begin to express how that man's writing shaped the way my life has played out since first reading my father's dog-eared copy of Angela's Ashes.  I didn't want to be a teacher until I read his books, and now, I don't know any other option.  He was in the inspiration for everything.  

I'd always dreamed about running into him in a New York coffee shop and telling him how much his writing changed me.  I'll have to wait for that chance meeting now.

Rest in Peace, Frankie.

i never want it to go back.  

this quiet, this freedom and peace.  i don't understand how i ever did without.

the messes are mine, and i clean them because they are such.  i turn off the lights and go to bed at a reasonable hour not because someone is telling me to, but because i know it's healthy for me.  i cook meals not to feed others, but because i know i have to feed myself.

it's pretty much official...any doubts i had about leaving home have been pushed aside after this weekend.

i am so ready to be independent.  new chapter of my life, one month to go.

this has been the most lovely weekend!

the whole family has been gone, so i've had the house to myself since saturday morning.  saturday night i had a date night with casey, indian food, rauchenzeit with michelle and good, good conversation.  it was a luxury to come home to an empty house, spread my painting things out in the living room and play music as loud as i wanted.

last night, i had a few friends over for dinner.  i managed to recreate the pasta sauce we had on the Last Night with a certain level of accuracy, except for the fact that I had to use Hunts tomato paste as opposed to Oro Di Parma (the greatest paste ever, IMHO.)  We had wine and champagne and a cake that I baked, and it was so wonderful just to sit with good people, laughing til my sides hurt.

it was a bit of a shock this morning to walk into the kitchen and see the aftermath of my night:  a sauce-splattered oven, sink full of dishes, and a counter smeared with chocolate frosting and ringed with winemarks.  I've got quite a day of cleaning ahead of me, but for now, I'm enjoying No Reservations and my newfound lust for Anthony Bourdain's pithy voiceover commentaries.

love and kisses,

ashleigh

There is a house by the sea

And an ocean between it and me

And like the shape of a wave

The jealous sisters will sing on my grave

And I've been living to run where they led

And I've been dying to rise from their bed

And I've been sparing my neck from their chain

And they've been changing the sound of my name

And I've been swimming to them in my sleep

And I've been dreaming our love and our freedom

1. i'm sick at cranky and hot, so in general, pretty miserable

BUT

2. i just got frozen yogurt with my aunt and have a happy tummy.

3. going to the city tonight with rachelle and spencer.  i can't wait to take pictures under the stars looking stylish and holding hands.

4. my family is ridiculous.  1.5 more months.

it's time for ashleigh to be a stress monkey!

i have a paper due in two days that i should be writing right now, but instead i'm sitting outside and drinking coffee and blogging and generally shirking anything resembling "scholarly duties".  went to the coops this morning to pick up a few pounds of coffee for my friend, stuck in the middle of nowhere with nothing but folgers to drink.  poor man.  :-(  i can't wait until i'm here and settled and i can buy fresh fruits and veg at the coop without my mum getting on my case for wasting money at things i could have bought at winco for cheaper.

on an aside, the weather today is gorgeous.  it's warm, but there's a breeze blowing and my legs look fabulous in little denim shorts.  i'm happy.  nothing like the sadness that i had last week. maybe i'm just adjusting, relearning how to do things by myself.  it feels like an accomplishment, however small.

if i finish my schoolwork early enough i'll write the two letters i need to get done, and maybe get some poems on paper that have been floating around in my head.  otherwise i'm just gonna keep on swimming and smiling and generally enjoying life :-)

-all at once-

you were all at once

a bird and a tree branch

both broken, 

a stick in the grass and a trail

of feathers speckled with blood

you were a skyscraper

at dawn

back ringed by pink light

and a mute mouth

choking on promises

that could not be spoken

you were a sailboat 

with a broken mast and

the waves that stole it from you

both creation and

destruction

two colliding forces contained

by tanned skin and a 

need to fly

-untitled-

on the first night of the

new year we stood, 

smoking, surrounded by sculptures

with exposed breasts

and the air was electricity

our hands, conducters

we sent sparks into trees

and they burned in the dark

the only sirens were low, hushed

admontions of absolute fact

"it's getting late."

"our soles are touching."

"please, don't stop." 

when we got out of bed there

was ash in your hair

and my mouth was bruised

but i licked away the evidence

and sent the burden

of my secret out into the world,

spread out charred before

our feet

stealing beauty through the 

fire in our bellies

"Do you ever miss him?" she asks me.

"Every day.  Every minute."

"Every minute," she says.  "Yes.  It's that way, isn't it?"  She turns on her side and burrows into the pillow.

"Goodnight," I say, turning out the lamp.  As I stand in the dark looking down at Grandma in the bed, self pity floods me as though I have been injected with it.  It's that way, isn't it?  Isn't it.

I'm rereading The Time Traveler's Wife and every few pages or so there's this big shuddering breath and I'm close to tears again, and I can't help thinking that somewhere there's a Henry and I'm that big missing chunk of his future, and all I have to do is be patient but I'm so tired with the waiting and missing him.  I think I am in love with a stranger, a ghost, someone without a name or a face but someone who is so entirely mine.  

I don't want to be alone.  I don't want to think about these days like giant puzzle pieces and going through the tedious process of fitting them all together until some day in the as-of-yet undetermined future when I can finally see the bigger picture, and I can delight in the completion of everything.

Today is a puzzle piece day.  It has no meaning so far out of context.  I am alone and missing him (whoever he is).  After class I will go out and get too inebriated to think clearly and maybe then it will make the burden of this longing a little easier to bear.

i thought that if i stayed

quiet enough,

if i sat up straight and

kept my promises,

you'd stay

but you were less of a man

and more of an idea,

leaving the moment i tried

to realize you.

I can't think of any other way to better express how I've viewed the past 6 months.  It's been a fun, life changing run and I want nothing but the best for his future.  To my secret friend, good luck and godspeed.

I'll give you countless amounts of outright acceptance if you want it

I will give you encouragement to choose the path that you want if you need it

You can speak of anger and doubts your fears and freak outs and I'll hold it

You can share your so-called shame filled accounts of times in your life and I won't judge it

(and there are no strings attached to it)

You owe me nothing for giving the love that I give

You owe me nothing for caring the way that I have

I give you thanks for receiving it's my privilege

And you owe me nothing in return

You can ask for space for yourself and only yourself and I'll grant it

You can ask for freedom as well or time to travel and you'll have it

You can ask to live by yourself or love someone else and I'll support it

You can ask for anything you want anything at all and I'll understand it

(and there are no strings attached to it)

You owe me nothing for giving the love that I give

You owe me nothing for caring the way that I have

I give you thanks for receiving it's my privilege

And you owe me nothing in return

I bet you're wondering when the next payback shoe will eventually drop

I bet you're wondering when my conditional police will force you to cough up

I bet wonder how far you have now danced you way back into debt

This is the only kind of love as I understand it that there really is

You can express your deepest of truths even if it means I'll lose you and I'll hear it

You can fall into the abyss on your way to your bliss I'll empathize with

You can say that you have to skip town to chase your passion I'll hear it

You can even hit rock bottom have a mid-life crisis and I'll hold it

(and there are no strings attached)

You owe me nothing for giving the love that I give

You owe me nothing for caring the way that I have

I give you thanks for receiving it's my privilege

And you owe me nothing in return