Unconventional Hobbies

This month’s focus was determined to be about getting a hobby. After consideration, I’ve decided I don’t need to get a new, conventional, hobby; like photography or mountain biking. I am satisfied with my own spin on the hobby front. 

My hobbies include, but are not limited to:

Reading. Nothing too serious. I mostly read Chick Lit. but in a generation that’s main reading material consists of FB status updates and tweets, I’m proud of it. I’m currently reading Stori Telling by Tori Spelling. I told you, nothing too intellectual but at least I’ve read more than my friend’s current locations via their check-ins.. just saying.

Writing this Blog. Duh. Who knows how many people actually read my rants? but I have the end goal of printing (and maybe laminating?) my 12 Months of Happiness in 2012 blog posts and neatly organizing them into special binders, then lovingly labeling them to give out as Christmas presents.* My family can’t wait. 

Reading, stealing, or taking pictures of healthy recipes. Of course, I rarely attempt to cook these low-cal, veggie packed concoctions but that doesn’t phase me. I still get a rush when I see A Two Week Meal Plan in Women’s Health magazine. I’ll rip it out or snap a quick pic of it** and that’s usually where the process stops. Most likely, if I was a “normal” person, with “normal” hobbies, I would stay on the recipe adventure. I would actually go to the store to buy the ingredients (or as it plays out in my fantasy life, I would journey to my magical backyard, where I also do yoga 3x a week, and pick the ingredients out of my homegrown, organic garden). Then I would actually make/try the recipe! But cooking isn’t my hobby. Collecting healthy recipes and never doing anything with them is! 

I also enjoy everything about my Planner. Most people rely on technology to help them keep track of their appointments, anniversaries and loved one’s birthdays. I do not. Literally one of my favorite things about a new year is a new Planner. (And yes, I keep them years after they’re out of rotation. I can tell you the exact date of my bi-annual dentist appointments in 2008). I love the blank pages waiting to be marked up with my black ink. My anticipation of organizing my coffee dates, parties, weekends away, and even work times, is abundant. I write everyone’s birthdays in colorful pens and special symbols on Holidays; Fireworks on 4th of July, a turkey on Thanksgiving, Christmas Trees and tiny Santa’s on Christmas eve/day, a little heart on every 30th of every month...*** And the excitement doesn’t end with the important dates written in and the prospect of future plans to be written out, it continues every day as I open my Planner to see how scheduled and busy and wonderful my daily life is. There are things crossed out, whited out, with happy faces or sad ones. There are arrows from one day to the next that represent my procrastinating tendencies and money signs for my weekly budgets. There are countdowns for weeks or days of school or interning left. There are goal workout counts written weekly and then slashed through.****I spend a solid chunk of the year with my cherished Planner. It’s a personal hobby to look through it, plan with it, and discuss it’s contents throughly, even if the conversations are only with myself.. in my own head.. ok, ok, sometimes out loud.......... 

Another hobby, or something I regularly enjoy to do, is giving people my opinions on shit that probably doesn't matter. I might actually listen to theirs, if I find them extra interesting, in which case I would say conversing may be a hobby, but it's rare that I'm not thinking of the next thing I'm going to say and just listening...

In my next post, I will creatively write about my opinions on marriage, tattoos, why I would want to live in a Zoo (if I were an animal), and possibly politics.. Bet you can hardly wait. 

Stay tuned.. -a.  

*Along with a 2013 custom made calendar of your truly. 

**These pictures double as entertaining reading material later. Two hobbies, one stone.

***01/30 = my anniversary, 02/30.. doesn’t exist, 03/30 = 1 year, 2 months, etc.. 

****Just kidding, sometimes I actually do them and put a star instead of a slash.

stop admitting your an asshole

I've encountered different personalities in my sporadic life, from million dollar babysitting clients to drunk girls in bar bathrooms. I can handle, even get along with, most people I meet. There may be minor differences but rarely anything that makes me question their identity or worry* about their existence on earth... unless you're the self-proclaimed "stubborn" type.

Except if you've been isolated from everyday society, you're stubborn. All American?** people are stubborn because we’re all difficult. No of us want to do something we don’t.want.to do or to be proven wrong. We are determined to do things our way, the right way. It's ingrained in our social existence to be the “special,” stubborn, self-worthy creatures that we are. 

Don’t pretend like you’re not one of these people, because you are. I am. Everyone is. Since birth we’re bombarded with this magical idea that we’re rare and worthy. We’re taught to be entitled and we fall for it, believe it, and live it.

Oh, American baby, so cute, so precious. SO ORIGINAL!!! 

...Just like everyone else.

Being stubborn in it of itself is slightly annoying, but whatever, the stubbornness aspect isn’t the personality trait that worries me. Besides, we're all stubborn biatches, remember? It is the questionable character who reps being a “stubborn” individual aka an asshole that seriously irks me out...

By definition to be stubborn is to be difficult. WHY ARE YOU BE PROUD OF BEING DIFFICULT?!?!?!?!?

You freak.

There's the girl in the dysfunctional relationship, "he won't call me back because he's just as stubborn as I am.  I'm suppppperrr stubborn." You're an annoying, difficult individual.  

There's the bro-dude, "I'm stubborn so I don't do anything  I don't want to do." You're a cocky, difficult deadbeat. 

If you are a self proclaimed "stubborn" piece of work, PLEASE stop. Stop being proud of being stubborn. Stop using it as a personality strength. Everyone is stubborn. You're not special. And, hello, it's not even a good trait. 

PLEASE STOP ADMITTING YOUR AN ASSHOLE!

Thx.

Stay tuned.. -a 

*This months focus, remember? Admittedly this post is loosely related but continue reading anyway.

**Maybe other countries have other worrisome personality traits and don’t deal with self-proclaimed “stubborn” assholes? I don’t know because I’ve spent the last 22 years here, not there.

worrier

Reflecting on my everyday life, and this months focus Why Worry?, I realize I worry all the FREAKIN' time! It's consuming, draining, and probably a form of OCD... but I can't cure it! My thoughts creep to horrible places if I let them, and sometimes even if I try to stop them they still claim victory. 

Those stealth little suckers..

I've had troubles falling asleep my entire life. "Stop thinking Ashley and go.to.SLEEP" my mom would say on the 3rd, 4th, 5th time she would check on me. 

It still haunts me. I can't fall asleep without a solid 20 minute think/worry sesh. And now, with a little "life experience" and a lot of late-night-how-fucked-up-is-our-world-really?-news watching, worrying has crept it's way into my thoughts before bed and intertwined itself into my everyday existence. 

If I need to talk to someone and they don't answer their phone, I freak. In reality, my loved ones are probably being functional human beings and don't need their phone attached to them every.second.of.the.day* but my mind wonders to the dark places if their phone rings its way to voicemail too many times. I have obsessively called my grandparents in the late hours of the night until they answer, just so I know they are safely tucked in bed (despite the fact that I abruptly woke them from their slumbers with my consistent phone calls).

"Sorry I woke you. I JUST WANT TO MAKE SURE YOU'RE SAFE! &Now that I've talked to you and you're awake......... I can finally sleep. Goodnight." 

Word to the wise: don't ignore me if you want to be left alone. 

I'll keep calling.

I'll be worried about you.. so ANSWER your phone and let me know that you are OKAY!** 

Also, remember to always have enough gas in your car to get home because what if there is a disaster and you have to make it home to your family (you do have a meeting place established for all fam members in case such an event occurs, right?! And an out of area contact you'll all call to assure everyone of your survival!) but you run out of gas half way to your designated meeting area and there are riots breaking out and you don't have enough gas...... You have to have enough gas.. And water! Don't forget about that precious H20 that will be the first thing people start killing over. HAVE SPARE WATER! And a land line! So you can call your out of area contact when the disaster hits because all cell phones will be obsolete and you have to assure people, your people, of your survival...

..or they'll worry..

Orrrr will everything be okay, weather you worry or have the impeccable power not to?

Does worrying ward off the dreadful woes of life? Is it a special pass that allows you to sneak through the lows life brings you unharmed and unfazed? Like if you concentrate all your energy worrying, somehow The Universe will divert disaster for you? Because you've suffered enough. You're a worrier after all...

Stay tuned.. -a. 

*I am not one of these.. I love my phone. It makes me a better, smarter individual. 

**Are you creeped out?

Girl Strong

Half way through the year and I am still blogging. Yes, my posts have slipped from the original 4 a month to only 3 but at least it is better than 2? This month’s focus is Why Worry? I think when I devised “The Plan” containing each months focus back in January, I assumed I would be stressed/ teetering on the break of depression due to my non-existent life plan/ a little worried about what comes next? What to do when one (finally) graduates college? What identify shifts have taken place during your expensive 4 (in my case, 5) year college experience?

Well, here I sit, a graduate; and though there may be some lurking fears of what my next move in life should be, I know I’m definitely not worried about my identity. A huge part of that identity: being a girl.

I’m not worried about being a girl in the “real world”. I’ve learned how powerful, magical, and downright awesome it is to be a girl. In fact, I love being a girl.

I love that I can feel things openly and honestly. I don’t have to hide behind a society driven, gender based idea that showing emotion is a sign of “weakness.” Wait, what? Showing emotion, to me, is a sign of humanness and I’m down with the human thing.  Maybe I’m ahead of the times?

I love that I can cry.

I love that my mom never told me to hold my tears, but the opposite; to let them all out. To let every consuming, frustrating emotion out in the form of tears because if not, they can turn toxic, kept in, locked up, wrapped within, suffocating inside you.

I love my boney shoulders and my thighs THAT TOUCH more every day because they are my own interpretation of the beautiful female body.

I love that I have the independence to take care of myself but the trust to confine in a boyfriend who helps. A boyfriend who brings out the best in me (most days..) but deals with the worst.

I love that I have the confidence to admit I have bad days and the vitality to know that’s okay.

And that it’s okay not to hide the fun parts of being a girl. So what if I take longer to get ready? Look at my long fluttering eye lashes, that I applied at least 4 different types of mascara to, and swoon. I love it. I love my too-high heels and red lipstick on Girls Night Out. I love my long hair that some people admire and others hate. It’s okay to love things that make you girly.

And it’s also okay that I will never be able to run as fast, swim as hard, or lift as much as the average guy. It is okay because I’m not worried about being a girl, remember?

Being a girl gives me my own strengths. Strengths that I am not worried about ever becoming irrelevant or unnecessary. Actually I think the opposite will happen. I’m not worried that Girl Strengths won’t, one day, be recognized for the vital human attributes that they are.*

Stay Girl Strong.                                                                                                                                                  Stay tuned.. –a.

*& I’m down with the human thing, remember? ;)

commitment phobe?

Summer days of tanning oil and nights of illegal drinking have been long gone. My responsibilities  extended past eat, pool, drink, sleep, repeat when I started college.  I worked through summer vacations during my college years, but my summer schedule changed every year. In fact, my life schedule changed every 3-4 months. With each new semester came new classes, new days I babysat, and new people in my life. I loved it. Each semester was like a new mini chapter in my pretty little life. I took things that worked (ie: later classes) and left things that didn't (ie: early classes) from the previous semester and applied it to the next. My life was constantly changing, constantly evolving. It never had time to get boring.

But.. what now?

The rest of my life is wide open for Bore Fest USA. I'll be expected to have a consistent schedule for longer than 3-4 months. I'll be a slave to structure. Nothing will change. The baristas at one specific Starbucks will begin to know me and my order (Grande Iced Coffee w/2 pumps of White Mocha, a splash of half&half, with whip cream*). I'll become a "regular with the complicated order" instead of the status I currently obtain, "chick with the complicated order," at Starbucks all around the Bay Area.  I'll have a scheduled time to do yoga instead of sitting on my ass for 6 months because I am one of those all-or-nothing annoying people. If I can't fully commit to yoga 3x a week, why do it at all? Wait. This is a positive thing about having a consistent, structured life.............. my next post..................

So.. where am I now?

My summer vacations are vanishing all together. I will probably be taking out piercings before getting  new ones. Thoughts of permanency and judgements that would come from getting another tattoo will keep me awake at night. 10PM will soon become late. While 10AM will be time for my mid-morning snack, instead of the time I used to sleep in until. I'll have to get used to people telling me when to be at work. I'll have to be in the same place, with the same people, for 8 hours a day, for a large number of days. I will run the risk of becoming bored with my thus far, pretty little (lively due to constant change) life, and honestly, I'm freakin'** out.


Stay tuned.. -a.





*I love you Kasey ;)

**freakin' vs. freaking. I debated for about 2 minutes..

San Jose.. The new Big Apple?

I've discovered it is important to take the opportunity to love the places you spend the most time in.  It just adds to your overall happiness, automatically worth it. 

I’ve never dealt well with change. I had my mom walk me to my locker the first weeks of middle school. I cried the first days of high school. I toughened up (a little bit) when I started community college. I didn’t need my mom to walk me to my classes and I didn’t cry. I was doing good. &then she told me we were moving... to Redwood City. About a 20 minute drive from San Mateo, not a big deal. A normal, well-adjusted human could have handled this without a worry.  I, on the other hand, could not get used to my new life in Redwood City. I remember making my mom drive past the Trader Joe’s close to our house, and take me to the one in my old hood. I would tell people I “only slept” in Redwood City but I lived in San Mateo. I still went to school there, worked there, and all my friends were there. 

I eventually came around, started to actually like Redwood City, and even claimed it as my place of residency. I love my little Audrey Hepburn inspired room and I can spend hours on my triple-mattress high bed. I (used to, before I became a lazy sack..) walk up the hill by my house and revel in the beauty of the neighborhood. I’m a frequent at the coffee shop down the street. I’ve transferred pharmacies and don’t dread spending time in our local Trader Joe’s. I’ve accepted my happy life in Redwood City, home. 

But now I’m spending more time even farther down south, San Jose. I go to school there. (I did cry on my first day at State but because I couldn’t find the shuttle stop, not because I couldn’t adjust!) My boyfriend and some friends live down there. My internship is located in the sunny southern city. As mentioned in previous posts, in an effort to justify my lack of physical movement this semester, I walk to my internship from SJSU. Twice a week I walk through the  streets of San Jose. I walk by the homeless people on the corner and behind the busy men and women in their fancy work clothes. I know the oneway streets and J walk when I’m late (everyday). I run across the Light-rail tracks and know where my bank’s ATM is located. I get a rush on the streets on San Jose that I’ve only felt in New York City. 

I visited the Big Apple for the first time when I was 18 and I fell in-love. I wanted to live there. I had to live there one day! I’ll never forget my first experience in New York. I won’t forget my pulse quickening as I stepped off the airport shuttle onto 5th Avenue or the little girl excitement that overcame  me as I walked through Central Park. I won’t forget the simple moment when I spilt a scone and coffee with one of my best friends, and favorite travel buddy, in Greenwich, or the delicious cupcakes we had in a park. Food tasted better there. Life moved at the pace I wanted it to. I was addicted. I had to come back...

And then I did, a few weekends ago, and my dire obsession with moving to New York had faded. The city was fun, but it wasn’t my city. The city didn’t offer me the same life shattering thrills as it had 4 years earlier. The city was the same, but I had changed. 

I still love New York and will continue to visit. I’ll treasure and rave about my traveling days to city that never sleeps but in the end, I want to sleep and live in my cities. My Redwood City and my San Jose. I’ve grown to love these places. 

&Maybe I would grow to love New York City one day too, but I havne’t grown to adapt yet... so for now, San Jose is my new Big Apple. 

Stay tuned.. -a. 

Taken Opportunity

May’s focus involved realizing who I know. It's not what you know, it's who you know, right? 

Current opportunities have proved this to be true in my life. I am interning for a great non-profit right now and start a summer internship with a technology company next month. Did I mention both internships are paid?! Life is good, but I don't feel like writing about my connections for the next month. Therefore, I'm slightly changing the focus. This month will now be about capitalizing on opportunity.

5 years ago I was a semester deep into community college. I didn't have a job, besides random babysitting gigs, and I wasn't necessarily looking for one. I was completely content with walking to school everyday (I lived close and didn't have a car), coming home to the cozy apartment I shared with my mom (rent free lifestyle), and alternating between napping and catching up on hours of Friends and SNL stored on my DVR. 

Along with living a complete lax life, one of my best, most epic, friendships had just begun. We met in dance class on both of our first days of college. I can still remember the early, carefree days of our friendship, getting to know each other through adventures to the City and strolls around school. The time we took the train South instead of North, but it didn’t matter because we had no where to be anyway. Our endless days of sleepovers and endless hours of conversations. Our constant contact because life was still simple. I not only became close to her but her aunt, uncle, and new baby cousin, whom she lived with, became a significant part of my life as well. 

Her aunt was 9 months pregnant the first time I met her. The next time I saw her, she had an adorable baby boy in her arms. I remember sitting in their living room revealing in the preciousness of new life, when she asked me if I was looking for a part-time babysitting job. There I sat, not exactly partaking in the job hunt, but I said yes to the opportunity anyway. 

I started babysitting for their family within the next two months and stayed for two years. A year into babysitting for them, they had another baby. A girl this time. I was honored to stay with both children. Around this time I also started working for another family. I would pick up an older girl from school and drive her to various activities. My babysitting “career” was expanding and it has continually grown. I work for an average of 3 families a week now, ranging from 2 to 3 babysitting jobs a day. 

It has been a good 5 years because I capitalized on an opportunity. I have been able to travel to San Diego over a dozen times, New York, Boston, Washington DC, London, and Hawaii with the money and flexibility babysitting gives me. I buy coffee from Starbucks everyday of my life. I own my own car. I am able to go on adventures and buy magical things. Best of all I’m graduating with a BA in Communication at the end of the month.

It’s a pretty little life.

Stay tuned.. -a.