... I Am NOT Happy!

So, Today, I came to my Dad's house... Where one of cousin's girlfriends is currently living in MY room. I don't usually mind sharing, but when my belongings start getting broken, I start to get a little upset.

For the past couple of visits, I've been considering packing up my Swarovski Crystal Horse and taking it to my other home. I would inevitably leave it here because I either forgot about it or decided that I didn't really have room for it at mom's. Today, I finally decided to pack it up so that I could take it home with me. When I pulled back the curtain to retrieve it from the window ledge I found that it had been knocked over and is now missing an ear and most of it's mane.

I am not generally a stickler for material possessions, but I really liked this, and I can't even find the piece of the mane to glue it back in place. All in all, I'm upset. I know it's just a thing, but I was rather fond of it and now it's broken because someone else has been living in my room that has no reason to care about my stuff.

I'm not going to be able to fix it and buying another one is out. It was a gift anyway, so it's really silly to buy another one. I hate to be angry for something that was probably an accident, but I'm having a hard time just letting it go.

Threading... No, Not a Needle.

So I got my eyebrows threaded last Friday.

"What's that even mean?" you may be wondering.

It's this really nifty way to shape your eyebrows that originated somewhere in the Middle East... I don't exactly remember where. They do some weird thing where they twist thread around your errant eyebrow hairs and pull them out magically by the root. All I know is that I love it. They didn't scalp my brows, so it's like looking at my old eyebrows, but better... WAY BETTER. My face kind of looked like I had two balding caterpillars hanging out over my eyes. Now, I look like I have eyebrows!

It's all very exciting, and it's supposed to last longer than tweezing or waxing. We'll see. I'm a bit skeptical about that part.

So we were sitting in the truck.... minding our own business...

Last Summer when my friend, Renee, was living with us, she, Mom and I got in Charlie's behemoth truck and went to Kroger. This, in and of itself, was a treat since Renee and I spent way too much time on the compound. We got to go for a car ride! Oh happy day!

Once we were done reveling in our short lived flight from the house, we had to shop... booo shopping... well only boo to grocery shopping, but anyway... moving on. We did what little shopping we had to do and then headed back out to the truck.

We loaded the groceries in the back seat and the three of us hopped (I say hopped because we definitely had to jump to get in) into the main cab and prepared to head home.

Mind you, we were sitting in the truck... minding our own business... being good girls... when suddenly, a driverless truck started rolling across the parking lot.

The three of us sat transfixed, the Rawhide theme song playing through my head at least (Rollin' Rollin' Rollin'), watching this car mosey across the lot. No one did anything... What exactly should we have done? I'll never know for sure. It was like watching a slow motion train wreck, until we were finally snapped out of this reverie when the truck veered and hit a light post.

We all looked at each other and laughed A LOT, and proceeded to go home. I mean, really, who does this kind of stuff happen to? No one but mom and me and whoever happens to have thrown in with our lot, that's who. We're always good girls that mind our own business, and, no matter what... BAM. Craziness ensues. There's just no stopping it

Oh well, at least life's interesting.

Summing Up the Day

Three things to know about today:

1. I believe that mailboxes never have what you want in them until you just don't care anymore
2. My roommate is a Goddess ... she's making an amazing smelling dinner as I type
3. Snow cones ROCK!! They are the essence of all that is Summer.

That is all... continue on with your lives feeling a little more enlightened.

Tanning Should Be An Olympic Sport

I've heard people say that you can tell an activity is a sport if you sweat...

If that's the case, then my roommate and I have been participating in a sport for the past week. Every day we go next door to to feed the cats, water the plants, and enjoy the spectacular pool we have been given access to. This, of course, involves tanning.

Now, you'd think that tanning, of all things, would be relaxing and not terribly taxing... It's way harder than I thought... AND you SWEAT!!

It all starts with swimsuit selection. You've got to pick a swimsuit that's not going to leave you with terrible tan lines... way harder than you'd think... all the cute ones have weird backs or really thick straps, so it's like finding the Holy Grail when you find one you like that isn't slut-wear

Once you get to the pool, you've gotta swim (it's a rule), and that's a taxing physical activity, I assure you.

After the swimming, you've got to get the chairs lined up to get the most optimum amount of sun. This uses extreme knowledge of the sun's position, geometry, and astral physics... not to mention arm strength.

Now, after you've worn out your body and your mind, you'd think that surely... surely, you'll get to relax and enjoy the sun.

It starts out that way... for about five seconds. Then, you realize that it's Texas in Summer. Hence, it is like being on the surface of the sun instead of just lounging millions away from it. It doesn't take a rocket scientist (just an engineer) to see that you're going to sweat buckets.

So, after we went through all these steps and avoided being burnt to a crisp, Meg and I returned to the lovely air conditioned house we're staying in, and realized that we were dehydrated...

We hadn't been RUNNING. We hadn't been JUMPING. We didn't even really SWIM much. We were TANNING after LOUNGING in a deliciously cool pool.

That is why I think tanning should be a sport... no, I take that back. I think it should be an Olympic sport, complete with gold medals and personlized sweats and swimsuits provided by one's home country.

The Army and Me... and Ryan

Let me preface this with a small clarification to a previous blog. I am, in addition to being Polish and an Aggie, Cajun. This means that I love food, most any kind, and have a huge and insane family.

Also I'd like to leave a bit of a disclaimer. I support the US military and believe that even if we don't believe in the mission, we should believe in our soldiers. They do what so many make excuses to avoid. They keep our world safe for us and our progeny, often losing life and limb in the process.

Anyway, I am new to most of what the Army has to offer. I am not a soldier, I date a newly contracted Reservist. My Reservist recently volunteered to go to Basic Training. He was not required to go, but chose to.

To say the least, I was unhappy when I found out. It's hard enough making it through the Summer when he's thousands of miles away, but, while he's at Basic, I get letters and a two minute phone call every other week.

I've been thinking, though, and the more I think about it, the more "ok" I am with it all. Don't get me wrong, I'm not totally thrilled that my relationship with Ryan will involve his olive drab mistress for a while. I am, however, incredibly proud of him. He's been doing amazing things at Basic, and is really doing well. He really excels at all of this "hooah" Army stuff, and it makes him happy. He's taking hold of his future, and if anything, this distance and this lack of direct contact, has made our bond stronger.

If we can weather this nine weeks of unpleasantness, we can make it through just about anything... even a contract with the Reserves

tune in tomorrow for whatever it is I feel like writing.

My name is Ashley, and my mother is a blogging idiot...

My mother is a blogging idiot.

She is apparently, now "cool and with it" (this is a direct quote). Mind you, I've always thought she was cool, but watch out world, Wubycomebackandseeus has a blog and can now post her thoughts on the world wide web. I've been reading her most recent posts and they are, to say the least, entertaining, much like she is.

Anyway, onto the meat of today's story. So I was driving, minding my own business... being a good girl, when I get a phone call that went thus:

"How do you spell Baconator?"

short pause while I process this odd question.

"You mean like Terminator, but with bacon on the front?"

"Yes," she answers

"I imagine that would be bacon with a-t-o-r on the end."

"Okay, that's all"

This kind of question isn't really all that odd between the two of us, so I just laughed and kept on driving... minding my own business.

A few minutes later, I get another phone call.

"How do you spell propeller?"

I proceeded to tell her, and figured these questions could lead me to only one conclusion. My mother was blogging again. This is really a new realm for her, but she's been moving this way slowly but surely for a while now.

She got a myspace, and had friended everyone and their dog. She's been doing other tech type things too. Got her very own digital camera and most recently, a really nice mp3 player. If I'm not careful she'll surpass me in the tech department... Though, in all honesty, that's not hard. I generally have to ask my dad for help with any thing with buttons and circuits.

Oh well, it seems my blogging idiot mother and I will be dueling it out in the tech department until the end of time.

Tune in tomorrow (or next time I get to it) for: The Army and Me... and Ryan

One for the money....

I figured that my first blog should be a basic "about me", so be forewarned the faint of heart and those with no sense of humor should maybe find a different blog to peruse.

I am a Polish Aggie born and raised in Texas. Roll that around in your head. Being Polish gives me a last name that hardly anyone can pronounce, and being an Aggie gets me a plethora of bad jokes, and a seething hatred for the color burnt orange (even though one of my best friends goes to t.u.). Being Texan just makes me awesome ;^)

Not only am I an Aggie, I'm a whoopin', pullin' out, muggin' down, died in the wool Aggie. (class of '10 WHOOP!). I know most of that sounds kind of dirty in a "that's what she said" kind of way, but it's really just an Aggie thing, so don't get your politically correct undies in a twist.

I have a tendency to say what I think, and sometimes I take a quantum leap past honest straight into...well... another category all together. I don't mean to... really, I promise. I love my friends and I hope they love me enough to ignore me from time to time when I get twisted off.

I've never been one of "the cool kids", but I like to pretend :^). I've got some of the most amazing friends in the entire world, a family who loves me unconditionally, and an incredibly handsome boyfriend who does the same. All in all, I'd say, I'm a very VERY lucky girl.

I only get to live life once, so here's to living it spectacularly.