A Note from the Windy City on the Eve of 2012

Last year, on New Year’s Eve, I laid on a bed, snuggled in sheets I could never afford, in a room I will never be able to afford, tipsy on free champagne I could never afford, collapsed with laughter with my partner in crime, Valerie. High on sparkling possibility, hair windswept from the river and red lipstick worn onto the rocks glasses of Vodka Tonic on the bedside table, we swore to things we would accomplish, promises we would not break for 2011.

We checked out late from our fairytale New Year’s Eve at the Trump Tower, returned promptly to real life in frozen Chicago, starting the new year on the highest of all possible notes – brunch from orange. We earned it after the amount of Ciroc consumed the night prior. We spent the evening sitting on MollieBrandonDavid’s floor, playing never have I ever. Not glamorous, but easily one of my favorite moments of the year. Still, it’s too bad every day can’t be chauffeured by a Bentley, accompanied by 8 course dinners and skyline views.

I’d like to say I accomplished everything on the list; that I lost 40 pounds, that I maintained thanking someone every day in my blog, that I figured out how to not procrastinate in my last quarters of grad school, that 2011 was a breeze. It was not easy by any stretch of the imagination. On a New Year's Eve that will honestly probably never be matched for the rest of my life, Val and I swore to a rule of 4. I won’t tell you what those were; they are super secret and only known by the Donald himself.

What I will tell you is that I accomplished infinitely more than the wide-eyed girl with the red lipstick could possibly have imagined.

I finished grad school, I acquired a big girl job, I survived the worst not quite big girl job on record. I fell in love, I ran, I danced, I sipped too much gin. I fell in love with someone who tolerates the fleecy polka dotted pajamas and thinks it’s adorable when I laugh without my mouth moving. I traveled, I figured out being by myself, I moved on.

Things have settled into a glorious calm. I drink more seltzer than gin and tonic. I make asparagus and salmon and enjoy coffee breaks in my office. I realized how fortunate it is to be able to see your best friend from elementary school do stand up, following her dreams or to sleep on the person’s futon whose known you forever or to sleep on a friendly floor after spending hours wandering and exploring and finding new magic in someone else’s city. I realized it’s ok to be homesick, to cry to your mom on the phone, to flee instead of fight every single battle. I realized how thankful I am that Taylor Swift convinced me to keep believing in fairy-tale-breathless-romance. That I figured out how to keep the stars in my eyes.

Maybe I still don’t know what I want to do in ten years, maybe I don’t know how I’m ever going to manage to save enough money to go to Paris, maybe I don’t know when I want to get married or how many children I want to have or in what increments or if I want to get my PhD.

But I do know, after fighting battles and problems and pickpockets and broken hearts, who I am today, what I want for breakfast tomorrow. I know that it’s impossible to show the amount of gratitude I feel for where my path has brought me, but that a thank you note is always the best way to start. I know that anything is easier when you have someone there to hold your hand. I know that I’m never going to stop trying to go everywhere, trying to do everything, and why would I want to? I swear that sometimes when I wake up for my 7 AM meeting, while I’m drinking my intentionally tepid coffee and sunlight is spilling into my dining nook office and I can hear the softly muffled snores of my roommates, I know I’m ready to take over the world, one comma, one casserole, one more lap on the treadmill at a time.

Adieu with many thanks, 2011. 2012, I’m coming for you.

Wish List

It's Falltime.

Which means that birthday time is approaching. And therefore my mom requested my birthday list.

So, here goes.

1.) A Kindle
2.) Orange Coffee Beans from Orange
3.) The Tiffany Twist Bow Ring



4.) The matching bangle
5.) Wine glasses and champagne flutes
6.) A new bowl for my KitchenAid mixer
7.) Decent Headphones
8.) An African Safari
9.) Peach Cobbler Cupcake from Molly's Cupcakes
10.) Books you think I'll like to read.
11.) ITunes Giftcards to buy music for running.
12.) Cooking Classes
13.) A new Canon Point and Shoot
14.) Dinner and drinks at Maude's
15.) An Adventure, doing something I've never done before
16.) Aerosoles Joyride Boots, Black Combo, Size 8
17.) Urban Decay Eyeshadow
18.) Stila Lipstain
19.) Coffee and Conversation Catch Up
20.) Decent headphones
21.) A trip to turn 25 somewhere that isn't where I spend every day
22.) Monogrammed notecards with matching envelopes for corresponding
23.) Pizza from Art of Pizza
24.) Entry into the Hot Chocolate 5K
25.) Kate Spade Burnside Avenue Metallic Evangeline
26.) Kate Spade Swim Team Statement Earrings
27.) Kate Spade Supercalifragilipstick -- Adventurous or Fuschia Fete
28.) Burberry Brit Perfume
29.) Tarte True Blood Cheek Stain
30.) Nars Orgasm Blush
31.) Macy's Giftcard
32.) Shoes, size 7 1/2 or 8
33.) Scarves, Fashion or Winter Wear
34.) Lululemon Giftcard
35.) New Athletic Type Apparel
36.) Manicures and Pedicures are always welcome
37.) Star Wars Pancake molds
38.) Super Hero Cookie Pressers from Williams Sonoma
39.) A cake decorating class
40.) Kitchen Gadgets
41.) Snow Skiing
42.) Tickets to a Broadway Show
43.) Beach Time
44.) Colts Victoria's Secret Pink Apparel
45.) New Sheets and Pillows
46.) Manpower to hang my pictures
47.) New Nail Polish
48.) Colts Tickets
49.) Brunch at Orange

I think that's a pretty good start...

Making Magic

I have been hardcore nerding out at an increasingly rapid pace to a serious of books called The Dresden Files. Think Harry Potter meets Nancy Drew, tangoes with a trashy romance novel and then like gets mentored by Indiana Jones.

It really couldn't be more awesome.

Most importantly, though, there's magic.

If you know anything about me, then you know how I feel about magic. I begged for pixie dust when I went to Disney World, wished in wishing wells, read Harry Potter as though I could find magic through osmosis, wrote fanfiction with fervor to trigger magic from somewhere within. Because magic is awesome. Duh. And I'm always in constant wonderment of pondering its possibilities, ficitious or otherwise.

And magic isn't all glitter and spells and charms by the book. It's really silly, but reading about magic never ceases to make me notice little things that I find really magical. For example:

1.) A two year old's ability to applaud the 37th time through of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star as though it were the opening notes of Carmen.

2.) The way cake batter forms itself into the perfect, tiny cupcake when baked at the correct temperature for the correct time.

3.) The way two tiny moving men can get a couch through a hallway barely big enough for people.

4.) The stillness of a Sunday morning, early, even on busy city streets.

5.) The grandness of Seurat's A Sunday on La Grande Jatte in Gallery 201

6.) The happyexcited feeling when you finally see someone you've been looking forward to seeing.

7.) The promise of always being able to go home.

8.) The breezy moment in the moonlight when you finally say out loud that you are falling in love.

9.) The coin behind the ear trick. I honestly still don't get sleight of hand. It really amazes me.

10.) Sunsets and sunrises. Pinks and purples and oranges and blues and the way the light shimmers on the lake and the beach and reaches up and over to start and end the day.

Anyway, enough with the sappy stuff. I leave you with this.

Faith, trust, pixie dust. Stars and stones. Hell's Bells. Magic is everywhere.

Summer Accomplishments I'm Genuinely Proud Of

1.) I survived grad school. Yeah, I know the MA from DePaul is nice on a resume, but it's just so much more than that. How many times did I try to pack up my toys and go home, turn tail and not finish? How much of a struggle was dragging myself to class when I was some awful, broken shell of a girl? Well, I persevered. And now it's over. And I still managed an A average. Take that, Grad School.

2.) I simplified my life in the form of cutting 7 garbage bags of old, ill-fitted, broken, useless things out. When your room/closet are the size of mine, 7 garbage bags makes a world of difference.

3.) I looked in the corner of the cabinets where I thought there might be something dead just for the sake of clearing out a foul smell in the kitchen. Ew. I'm still freaked out some tiny animal carcass is going to turn up somewhere.

4.) I have learned how to let people help me. Whether it's dinner from the boyfriend, letting someone else pick up those hours, or letting my Dad help me in my job search, I have finally found the balance between being independent and taking on way too much for any one fairly small individual. It's nice to have back up.

5.) I have embraced my nerdiness. Upcoming Star Wars bar crawl, new nerdy book series, playing Mario Kart with the lesbros. Let's face it; ant semblance of cool was always just a facade anyway.

6.) After about a million horrible relationships making the same mistakes that I was making when I was 13, I have finally learned enough about myself to be a functional person in a couple and not just that guy's girlfriend. Grown up relationships are so much better for this, so much less draining, so much more conducive to becoming a better person <3

7.) I successfully traveled across the country and made it home in one piece.

8.) I climbed a mountain (Ok, it was hiking. And it was a small mountain. But it was still awesome)!!! And tap danced on top of it. With Vanessa. The fact that my best friend from when I was 10 is still in my life to scale mountains and then be willing to tap dance at the top of them never ceases to amaze me. Kind of like Vanessa and her passion and beauty, inside and out never cease to amaze me.

9.) Cooking. My cooking has really vastly improved this summer :)

10.) Balance. My life feels like there is so much more balance than there has been in ages. I blame that guy who keeps ruining my melancholy tendencies by making my heart all flippyfloppyfluttery.

The Missing Piece

It seems that I might actually be on to something here. Some kind of lucky break, some kind of winning streak.

(Trust me. I'll take whatever I can get)

And I find that suddenly, very very very suddenly, like a little-kid-dying-to-know-where-mom-hid-the-Christmas-presents, I'm remarkably curious about what it is that's around this next corner...

It's like I have maybe finally acquired almost everything to make life fall into place, found the last few things on the grocery list to check off or something. Whatever little change in the wind it was; I'm so happynervousexcitedawed.

So much gratefulness in this little heart of mine for so so so many things.

Sneaky

Love is sneaky.

After months of trying to figure out new places to go, new ways to meet people, new ways to catch that guy with the dogeared copy of Crime and Punishment's eye. Agonizing over another night in Boystown where you will not be meeting any tall, muscley, book-loving Colts fans with real jobs, another overtime shift, another Friday night of laundry and wine, baking cupcakes for happy coworkers -- simple singleness, slightly settled. Very set in one's ways.

And all of it's fine. There are nights where you twirl down the street in the snow with your best friends, thinking life can't possibly get any better than these starry lit nights where your breath swirls in the breeze with snowflakes and Lady Gaga running circles in your head, walking home on the always alive streets of Chicago. Nights with so much laughter you cry. Nights that are nothing but trouble trouble trouble, stories to tell to entertain adoring fans and captive audiences.

And since life can't get any better, you start to do the same things. Musical Monday, New recipe on Tuesday, Trivia on Wednesday, Class, Homework, Gym, Work, Laundry (lots of laundry). And as quickly as everything became eclipsed by the terrible, happiness creeps in. With no parade, no hoopla, it's there.

And then, on some random night after some lengthy day of procrastinated grad school final writing when plans you had fell through and you end up at the second most likely place you'd ever be found in Boystown on a Monday night, when you least expect it, when you aren't desperately searching for it, when you are just being yourself and drinking the purple pitcher special at Roscoe's, everything changes.

And such a lovely-unexpected-fireworky-sunny-day-in-the-middle-of-a-week-of-thunderstorms-lucky-beautiful-take-your-breath-away-amazing-ninja-out-of-nowhere change, it is. You know, in that, I'd be so annoyed and disgusted if this were anyone else kind of gross way.

Sneaky, sneaky, sneaky.

Thanks Lisa

Dear Lisa,


Thanks for helping me start over and figure out a plan for getting re-railed instead of de-railed.


Love,
me

Sunshine

The onset of Spring in Chicago has this incredible effect in improving the morale of the entire city. Maybe it's the way the sunshine glints off of Lake Michigan or the countless perfect picnic places or the fact that for the first time in months stepping outside the door does not mean one will be greeted with vicious wind ripping at frozen snot and eyelash-cicles. (God knows, it's not the Cubs starting another season.) For me, it's all about the sunshine. Sundresses, sunburns, sunglasses. Shadows, sunsets, desperately romantic dusky strolls. It makes me want to be seriously irresponsible. On any given sunny day, I'm about a minute and a half from making a break from whatever it is I'm doing that's more important than being outside and fleeing to the beach or park or just to roam the streets with the sun warming my face. I want to be grilling kebabs and applying sunscreen and sipping sangria without any responsibilities to tend to. I want to ditch work, ditch homework, kiss in very public places, do something a little bit reckless for once. Mmm. I can't wait for Summer.

Thanks Erica

Dear Erica, Thanks for being willing to make the most of our weird mid-week weekend schedule. I'm glad you appreciate the benefits of sunshine, cute animals, and drinking Long Islands at noon. I think this Tuesday day off adventure was the start of a something very very beautiful. And next time, maybe we should go for the whole pint instead of the half. See you in Admissions on Thursday! Love, Ashley

Thanks Taylor

Dear Taylor, I try not to thank people two days in a row, but I think materializing on my doorstep with a tomato and feta pizza and cans of Half Acre Gossamer with lemon knots for dessert definitely merits a thank you note. I could not have been happier that YOU were my pizza guy and that I got to snuggle up with you for the evening an entire day earlier than expected :) You are kind of the most adorable person I know. Love, me

Thanks Taylor

Dear Taylor,

Thanks for wandering into my life and sweeping me off my feet when I could not have been expecting it less, when I was gloomy and frazzled and tired and ready to throw in the towel when it came to the entirety of the male species. Rachel classified you as a genus Knight in Shining Armor, and it seems you have a knack for saving the day, for saving smiles that are threatening to turn, for saving glimpses of calm in a sea of anxiety-riddled activity. I'm over the moon about your seriousness in studying, your smile, your never ending wonderfulness and wonder over the little things in life that make you happy. And your pancakes. Your pancakes and turkey sandwiches and pasta rock pretty hard. I get too busy being excited about the next time I'm going to see you to focus on how much I'm missing seeing you when we're busy. In short, I'm awfully glad I went to Roscoe's and I'm even more glad you made it your mission to convince me you were a gentleman. And don't get me started on the little flutter in my heart or the fireworky breathless moment after a kiss. You could not be more adorable, more magnificent, more welcome. Thanks.

Love, me

Thanks Vanessa

Dear Vanessa,

Even though you are far away, thanks for listening to my triumphs and tribulations, big and small. Thanks for letting me gush about this guy and whine about that thing that happened and work and for listening and caring and loving me with your whole entire heart, while your heart is residing a thousand or so miles away :) I miss you everyday.

Love, me

Reasons I am Seriously Reconsidering my Lifelong Rejection of Southern Belledom

For years, I refused to tell people that I grew up in Alabama. I took voice lessons to rid myself of my accent, Midwesternified everything about my appearance, my life, even took to rooting for Ohio sports teams (Really? Ew.) But recently, as I've come to know myself a little better, I've found that my heart beats as a Southern Belle; some of that gentility instilled by my mother is there. So, why try to fight it anymore? It seems being a Southern Belle has its benefits :)

1. People love a drawl. They will listen to you coo and prattle on about anything when you elongate your ahs and add in extra syllables all over the place. Men get starry-eyed, women just smile more kindly. And people just want to listen to you talk, and I like to talk an awful lot.


2. Beef tips. Sweet potato pie. Cheddar Jalapeno Cornbread. Petit Fours. Chocolate chip pound cake. Shrimp and grits. My arsenal of southern comfort food is packed with delights of all varieties. Delicious; the kind of food that wins men and friends from the inside out with the kinds of emotional responses it draws out. Southern belles know how to make food that makes you feel, and if you've ever had my cornbread, you know I understand wholeheartedly this principle.


3. Who doesn't look good in a blonde frosted stacked bob? Ok, ok, not everyone south of the Mason-Dixon really rocks one of these, but many do with grace. And the ones that don't, spend a good deal of time painstakingly perfecting the way they present themselves. Lipstick to the grocery store, gym shoes matched to gym bag. Sundress with no sweat spots in 110 degree heat with 90% humidity. Always ready to impress.


4. Hot rollers. Yankee women do not know their way around a set of hot rollers (unless you had a serious showchoir upbringing) the way that Southern Belles do. And who doesn't like spraying the shaft to achieve bounciness?


5. Kindness. There is something about smiling at everyone and moving slowly that breeds a certain kindness, where hellos greet everyone and people gather on porches for mint juleps (Yes, that really happens, my yankee friends). Maybe it's because the skies are incredibly blue and the people in the South don't know a windchill of negative 27, but there is something that makes them kinder, their lives a little more idyllic.


6. People are constantly pleasantly surprised when intelligence and quick-wittedness accompany Southern-ness. I like surprises; don't you?

So, I think I'm going to embrace this long lineage of Southern heritage and fully take on this role of Southern Belle. I'll make my mother and Scarlette O'Hara proud :)

Reasons I Just Couldn't Be Happier, Simply Couldn't Be Happier

1. THE TEST IS OVER. I have been dreading this test since I applied to the non-thesis based MAE program at DePaul in January of 2009. While I was still working at TBC. Before I was even accepted to the program. Clearly, this dread has blossomed over the past few months as I prepared to take it and has been a break-into-hives-have-bad-dreams-occupy-your-every-thought-don't-want-to-eat-manic-can't-sleep-horrible kind of stress. But I took it Saturday, and I honestly feel pretty good about it. I'd even venture to say it went pretty well. Now. Let's just hope the review committee agrees...


2. I went out without a jacket today. Glorious. Hello, April warmth.


3. I met this guy. He's pretty cool and went so far out of his way to make sure that they superterriblenogoodverybad week leading up to my test was bearable with dinners and Disney movies and pep talks all week. Because he's pretty rad like that. I think maybe I'll see about keeping him around because, honestly, I'm a little over the moon about the whole thing (If you met him, you'd be like...Duh. Of course you are.)


4. For Christmas, Brian promised to take me to High Tea at The Peninsula. We finally were able to make out schedules line up tonight and go and it was just so wonderful. Vanilla bean black tea. Tiny sandwiches. Scones. Hazelnut and chocolate pralines. A view of a garden, feeling so fancy, looking so fine. Having careful heart to hearts as we stir honey in with tiny spoons. Perfect fanciful Brian/Ashley time.


5. I saw Belle this week. She is growing up so beautifully and I love to see the very kind little person she's becoming and hope that in some very tiny way, I had a hand in that.


6. I have many new Spring dresses, Spring shoes, Spring bags. Bring on the warm. Bring on the pretty.


7. So many people made it a point to wish me luck on the test, check in to see how it went, even follow up with flowers. It is so wonderful to have people that love you and support you to the degree that the people in my life do. I couldn't ask for anyone better to materialize.


8. DID I MENTION I AM ALMOST DONE WITH GRAD SCHOOL???


9. Blackberry Cheesecake Cupcake and a Jumbo Dog with ketchup, brown mustard, and relish. Win.

Reasons I Could Definitely Be a Femme Fatale

Someone told me last night that I was NOT MYSTERIOUS enough to be a femma fatale. I, however, disagree. For the following reasons, I could clearly make the cut to be one of those kinds of women. Duh.

1. Chanel 75. What kind of mysterious-type lady leaves the house without her kickass signature red lipstick on her lips to leave lovely lipstick stains on the rim of the very dry martini in her hand and on the lips of her lovers? I will default to the red that is Chanel 75 for this.


2. Trench Coat and Large Sunglasses. When traveling incognito, these key pieces are extremely useful to easily escape from bad guys and making sure they *horror of horrors* don't recognize you. Coincidentally, these staples are also really useful for surviving Spring in the windy city with its flaky gale to showers to sun pattern.


3. Mystery. I'm totally full of secrets. For sure. And I definitely don't wear my heart on my sleeve. Ever.


4. Persuasive. Femme Fatales know how to get what they want. Usually with just an icy cold stare. I can glare, I can flutter my eyelashes, I can flip my hair. And, typically, outcomes are just as I'd hoped they'd be.


5. Smart. Even Brian says I'm almost too clever for a woman. Cleverness always pays off when you are trying to outwit bad guys and make good guys fall at your feet. So, I hear.


6. Adventurous. I am certainly adventurous in my pursuits; I even have a little taste for danger, a big taste for the unknown. I'd definitely be willing to flee to far off corners of the world to perfect my femme-fatale-ing, wreaking havoc, breaking hearts all along the way.


7. Dark. Dark hair, dark eyes. A boiling white hot sea of rage underneath layers of sacchrin sweetness. Yeah, I could be dark and twisty if I wanted to be. Duh.


8. I'm well read in the nature of bombshells and femme fatales. Research is always the biggest part of the battle, right? Game. Set. Match.

Thanks Belle and Bradin

Dearest Belle and Bradin,

Thanks for being so adorable. Thanks for getting along, understanding, and being two of the coolest little kids I know. You stomped me in Wii Cow Racing, I'll admit, but didn't gloat too much. Positive. I also really enjoyed our very deep discussion about Star Wars and the pros of Bling Strands. I really love spending Saturday night sleepovers with you guys <3

Love,
me

Thanks Rachel

Dear Rachel,

Thanks for excellent pizza late last night. And for navigating us to Hyde Park via a bus I'd never ridden before. Also for being pretty awesome and having a few pretty awesome friends to be...awesome with. I dig it, even though I've only known you for like two weeks. BFFs :)

Love,
me

Reasons I Am Suffering from Spring Fever

1.) Were you here for the blizzaster that was the month of February? In so many more ways than just the weather. Oy.

2.) Sunshine. Sunshine Sunshine. It makes me want to do cartwheels and lay on the beach and twirl down busy streets and gather flowers that will make me sneeze. And just be outside. In the sunshine.

3.) Thunderstorms make me really antsy. So does the nervousness of anticipating that one could be right around the corner. That's kind of feverish, right? It's ok. I don't mind bunkering down in blankets and hiding myself in music and books until it's pretty enough outside to go splash in the puddles.

4.) My hopeless romantic heart. There is something so beautiful in sunshine and kisses in the warm, rain and sharing an umbrella with a stranger and going to the park/zoo/famer's market to stroll, hand in hand. It's the little things that make me fall in love with love a little more. And I know I mention it every single time the season changes. But seriously. Warm weather makes people over the moon for that silly love stuff. And I'm totally one of them. Even willing to throw caution to the wind and say yes and let this cold,cold heart feel things it wasn't really interested in feeling, being all independent and set it its ways like it is.

5.) Oncoming warmth and greenness after Winter's cold icy grey stare for months and months is just the biggest sigh of relief that the universe gives us all year long. Even if it is accompanied with thunderstorms. And I know that this winter has made me lose my mind a little. Good riddance.

6.) Farmer's Market. Fruits and vegetables are so much better from the farmer's market and it returns in all of its glory with the sunshine and springtime and such. Therefore, you can acquire the fixings for all kinds of new cooking adventures.

7.) Bikes! My bike is in desperate need of attention and repair. But once it's fixed, I'm totally riding it everywhere.

8.) Spring marks the start of training for the marathon for me, a huge deal. It's a life goal, a committment to something huge and hard that I will definitely not be exceptional at. And we all know that I struggle at things I'm not so hot at. But I will persevere. And I will finish that race in October. Promise.

9.) I'd like to spend my days being in starry-eyed awe of the glorious city I live in and the beautiful people in my life and the possibilities of love and adventure and life life life breathed into every step, corner, trip on the red line in Spring time. Kisses and whispers and sunsets on the beach and whatnot.

10.) Spring also marks the end of grad school, marks a huge victory, marks looking much more exciting on paper than I generally feel. <3

11.) Galoshes. Galoshes, light scarves, jackets. Lace, pastels, off white shoes. Soft, pretty pink lipstick and shimmery eyeshadow. Spring is pretty, light, easy in its fashion. I feel for that. Just not the florals.

12.) A few promising things that have me all a-smile. In several different spheres of my life.

13.)
Let's do this, Springtime.

A Collection of Some Advice I've Received in the Past year or so...

When you are lost, seeking direction, trying to cling to dreams and caffiene, the people that know you best always have words of wisdom to try to get you to some semblance of happy, normal, restored. Tough love, words of wisdom, simple advice, bossiness. Little things to help you turn obstacles into popcicles. Right? I have received a good deal of advice in my wandering of the past year and some of it was really sound. Most of it was really sound. Some of it was funny. Some of it was conflicting. Some I took, some I most assuredly didn't. But it seemed that it should be collected and shared. If nothing else, in celebration of needing advice about things that are way more fun and exciting than advice needed previously :)

On What You Want to Be When You Grow Up:
~You won't have to give glitter stars forever.
~You don't have to know what you want out of forever; just today.
~You are special and different in a million and one ways than every other cute brunette applying to any given job on any given day.
~Update your resume every 2 months.
~Never lose track of an important contact.
~Always make an important opportunity work, even if it means working 7 days a week and being a no fun pouty face.

On dating:
~Don't wear the red lipstick. It makes it look like you are only thinking about one thing.
~Don't wear the red lipstick. It makes you seem standoffish.
~Don't wear the red lipstick. Then you can't kiss him goodnight.
~Sit across from him, not next to him.
~Slight cleavage on the first date.
~Wear the red lipstick. It's totally your thing.
~If he wants to find you, he'll find you.
~You should really try to like someone for the right reasons for once.
~DON'T SALT YOUR OWN GAME.

On life:
~Pot. Kettle. Black. Fuck You.
~Always remember to spray the shaft.
~The only thing you can really use is your fingers; don't try to use something else to make that happen.
~Add a splash of coke to your gin and tonic. Old bar trick.
~Everyone likes a girl that can tie a cherry stem in a knot with her tongue.
~If it's wet and not yours, don't touch it.
~Cupcakes make people happy.
~Kill with Kindness.
~Drink water.
~Sometimes the nestthing to do is to just go home to your mother.
~Do not under any circumstances, be that girl.
~Finish your homework. But don't neglect fun.
~Don't do anything you'd be ashamed to tell your mother.
~Faith. Trust. Pixie Dust.
~Serendipity has you.
~Sometimes a step at a time is too much. Sometimes you just need to take it a breath at a time.
~Always say thank you. For everything.
~What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
~Do what makes you happy. If that'a dancing around to Taylor Swift and baking copious amounts of cupcakes, so be it.
On Running:
~Listen to good music and don't let your feet stop moving.
~Let go of whatever's bothering you by the end of mile 1, little by little, step by step.

On Love:
~The fairy tale is there somewhere. You just have to stop looking for it.
~Time takes time.
~Figure out yourself. Then you can worry about figuring out someone else.
~Yeah, not going for it because there might be someone better sounds like the easiest way to end up alone.
~You're too pretty to be that girl.

Perhaps the best of all:
~Be unashamedly and unabashedly yourself. Always.

To coming closer to the last one (red lipstick and all) than ever before. Cheers.

Thanks Stephen Daldry

Dear Stephen Daldry,

A year ago today, my catterwalling sounds during Skid Row caught your attention and you bought drinks for Jason and I at my very first musical monday. It opened a door to a place that is my escape, my favorite night of the week, the chance for a couple of hours to be the fiery starlet I always wished I could have been, belting as high as I can. A place that has given me a reason not to repeat dresses, to delineate between gay pretty and straight pretty, a reason to find my pretty again, and many new friends and smiles and misadventures-- home base. And it all started with you, Mr. Daldry. (Your work is pretty epic too. I looooved The Hours.)

Love,
me

Things that Make Me Feel Better When I'm Sick

1.) My mom's chicken and rice. It always involves potatoes and those little starry shaped noodles. And her chicken is just always so much better than the way mine turns out when I try to make it. The ultimate in comfort food: made with love, consumed for the soul and spirit with mommy care in every tiny grain of rice.

2.) Daisies. Such friendly flowers. Extra points if you know where that came from, because the source material would be on this list if the DVD were not missing in action.

3.) My copy of Eclipse that Cory annotated for me. I almost always revisit it when I'm feeling under the weather and his short notes in the margins and long notes in the back cover make me feel just like he's not across an ocean and here to give hugs.

4.) A cup of Earl Grey, with a splash of milk and a little bit of honey. I'm certain that most of the world's problems could be solved with a cup of tea in the afternoon.

5.) Surprise sick day visits from people who love you enough to brave your germs to come keep you company. Even the kind of visitors that stay generally out of the way of your personal space to try to stay not sick, but still talk and watch movies and bring things for cheer and comfort (including bot not limited to food, gatorade, orange juice, films, books, magazines, bits of gossip, etc.)

6.) Coloring. Seriously. When bed bound, I have been known to bust out the crayons and my Princess coloring book and color away. Maybe it's because I feel like I'm 7 and useless when I'm sick?

7.) NyQuil Comas. I feel like this is self-explanatory.

8.) The lotion-y tissues. They don't destroy your nose when you have to blow it a hundred times an hour.

9.) Reading new books/ watching new movies and tv shows. It's always a little escape to see or do something new which is always lovely.

On that note, it's back to bed with sniffles and a cough for me :( I think you know what that means...^^^

Gratitude

I'm eternally grateful for the incredible people in my life who love me and listen to me and hug me and give me tissues to dry my tears and pep talks when I'm down and celebrate all of my little wins with me.

Gratitude is the greatest gift you can give someone; a true and honest emotion. I started thanking people in this blog at a time when gratitude was the only thing I felt I didn't have to lie about. I was miserable and pretending to be happy, angry masquerading as peaceable, jovial. It reminded me how to truly feel something the way it should be felt and share the way something like gratitude should be shared.

Even now that I'm a slightly more happy and well-adjusted person, when there are days like today, I'm reminded of that time and reminded all over again that I don't know how I would have possibly made it from point a to point f without the influence, interference, love, guidance, support, and blessings that the people around me have brought to my life.

Thanks, even when there are tears and it seems a little harder to breathe, for big and small things, always always always.

Fear

I'm afraid of very many things.

Spiders, thunderstorms, broken hearts, reading my own writing out loud, scary movies. Like a little girl, I scream; I cry. I shake and shiver in my shoes as the prickles move up and down my arms, my palms start to sweat.

When I know I have to read my writing out loud in front of people, I almost always throw up. And I'm stuck in the dread of waiting waiting waiting waiting and then trying to steady my breath, my voice into a normal sound to read the words that are writtentypedscrawled across the page and then deal with the shaking after I've finished.

(Why are you afraid?)

I fear. I fear many things. I fear much of the time. But why? What is it that makes me paralyzed, stricken, stuck to my spot? What creates the stasis, keeps me from chasing down my dreams with every single breath left in my body?

Is it a fear of failing? We learn best from mistakes, so why shouldn't I want to strengthen myself in trying.

Is it a fear of flying? There's not always shame in running away, in cutting your losses and calling it quits.

I don't know. I don't know why I'm afraid. But at every turn, I feel the panicky awful thoughts creeping into my head that I'm running out of time for this and that and that the chances are passing me by to go here and see that and kiss that stranger. Sometimes, I'm even afraid to be happy. It's like I didn't do anything to deserve the moments and blessings and bounty of incredible people I'm surrounded by. I'm afraid to take a chance on this or that because I'm afraid of feeling the way having my whole life turned topsy turvy felt like again.

I'm fearful of fear itself. Fear is dangerous. It holds you back and all I want to do is run run run and fly and go everywhere and do everything and meet everyone. A year and a half ago, I didn't want anything. And then everything changed and now I'm this girl that wants everything. I want the world and I want to be incredible. How can you be incredible when you are afraid?

And mostly though, I'm afraid I'll never figure out happily ever after. Perhaps I'll buy the last dogeared marginaliad copy of Crime and Punishment at the wrong bookstore instead of the one where I was supposed to bump casually into the man of my dreams. Maybe I'll never see the world. Maybe I won't finish my collection of essays or ever have it published. Maybe I'll be stuck in a dead end job, maybe I'll never know exactly how it is that I'm supposed to do great things. And I think that's terrifying. I'm terrified of losing sight of my dreams, my big, lofty dreams and my tiny pleasures and goals and lists. I'm terrified that I won't be able to make it around the world and write about everything that crosses my path. I'm terrified I'll get my heart crushed into a million pieces again. I'm afraid I'll never be comfortable in my body; that I'll never feel as beautiful as you made me feel a really long time ago. I'm afraid I will never figure out how to let all of it go. I'm afraid I won't be able to tell this person how I'm feeling. I'm afraid of being vulnerable, of letting people too far into my deepest and darkest corners of my heart. I'm afraid of where honesty gets you and I'm afraid I've been pretending I'm ok for so long that I'm not going to actually know when I finally am.

I know you can't let fear rule you. And so I try. I make myself move, I dare myself. I smile, listen to too much Katy Perry, consult mantras and happy people and try to just fight back against being scared.

Unless there's a thunderstorm and then I'm under covers, hiding.

Until I figure out how to be fearless, like I'd like to be.

Valentine's Day

Little pink hearts everywhere. Sparkles; cardboard boxes with the latest cartoon character professing how cool you think the recipient of the card he or she is gracing to be. Those really lame foil covered chocolate roses. All appearing in that weird middle aisle in the grocery store where they just cleared the Christmas Candy which had quickly replaced the Halloween Candy...

Yes. It's creeping up: Valentine's Day.

I just have so many thoughts about Valentine's Day. So, I'll do what I do best: I'll make a list. Or two. Or maybe even three. We'll see.

Reasons I'm Opposed to Valentine's Day

1.) Well, what desperately single twenty something girl who's ever had her heart dragged through the mud isn't?

2.) Romance is way too personal/individual/subjective to be relegated to some Hallmark holiday dreamed up in a cubicle somewhere to make girls with too many feelings pine away and pray for Cupid to bring them men. And chocolate.

3.) It's almost February and no suitable Valentines have materialized. Not to say that I'm dismissing the prospect of a meet cute or simply giving up or anything; I meet hundreds of new people a day at the museum. I'm just saying that it makes me prickly to think about being Valentine-less. (For clarification on suitable, please see: Traits a Suitable Valentine Candidate Must Be in Posession Of)

4.) No Valentine's Day will be as awesome as the one spent last year in Shannon Sullivan's living room. Snuggling with Jason, The First Wives' Club, Cupcakes, Champagne, Romantic dinner for 4, a legit turning point in my general mindset and well-being. Seriously, perfect.

Reasons I Secretly Love Valentine's Day

1.) Hello; have you met me? I'm SUCH a hopeless romantic. I love love. All love. All the time. Even forced romance is a little bit magical. Not quite as magical as dancing down an empty street in the moonlight or kissing in the rain while sharing an umbrella, but there's something in the way that people go out of their way to show the people that they love how much they love them on February 14 that is really really beautiful.

2.) Pink is my favorite color.

3.) I really love boxes of chocolate. And I love baking holiday goodies. Like heart shaped sugar cookies and brownies with red and white heart sprinkles. And Swirlz always has awesome Valentine's Day cupcakes.

4.) I have a history of really awesome Valentine's. Even the boyfriends who were the least considerate, the least thoughtful, the most hurtful were creative, wonderful in their Valentine's Day efforts. So I still have a little faith in this rigged romance for managing to bring out the best in every diamond in the rough.

5.) I'm a really great maker of Valentines :)

Traits a Suitable Valentine Candidate Must Be in Posession Of

1.) Willingness to take me out on a legitimate Valentine's Day date, including but not limited to dinner, a movie or play or suitable entertainment portion, and post activity drinks

2.) Willingness to pick up the tab

3.) Willingness to tell me I'm pretty without being prompted

4.) The ability to carry on a conversation intelligently; bonus points for referring to books/blogs/newspapers/magazines recently read

5.) A Romantic Spirit; enjoyment of little things like candlelight and lovely music. But in a manly way.

6.) Dedication to a sports team. Unless that team is the New England Patriots.

7.) Appreciation of the arts, including French Impressionism, poetry, and theatre

8.) Knowledge of the basic waltz pattern and willingness to dance in snow/rain/on empty city streets

9.) Muscles are always a plus.

10.) A real job. And a credit score of over 600.

11.) Appreciation of beer and/or good gin and/or whiskey.

12.) Willingness to laugh at bad jokes and at himself. Overall good sense of humor.

13.) Must be more or equally excited about Valentine's Day date as other involved party.

And so, I'll be thinking about love and Valentine's Day and seeking candidates for actual Valentine's until the day hits, the moment comes. Mostly, I'll be thinking of everything I learned and being ever so grateful for what last Valentine's Day turned out to be.

Kisses,
me

Thanks Mom

Dear Mom,

Thanks for listening as I plot my grocery and to-do lists on the phone on my days off, even though I'm sure there are way more exciting things you could be doing. I love you.

Kisses,
me

Thanks MollieBrandonDavidPouncer

Dear MollieBrandonDavidPouncer (aka the Residents of the 551),

Thanks for providing this restless warrior a home away from home, conveniently located within pajama distance (This is a plus in that it is quick to trek there, even when it is raining/sleeting/snowing/I-am-trying-to-make-a-quick-getaway-from-goings-on-at-home-at-work-at-large.) A place where I can come to cry, to laugh, to snuggle, to get my cute kitten, cable, baking, and nerd fixes all in one. Mostly, thanks collectively for being some of the very best friends any girl could ever hope to have. And tonight, thanks for sharing the Golden Globes and cooking shows.

Hugs and kisses,
me

Thanks Random Married Couple at The Yard on Saturday

Dear Random Married Couple at The Yard on Saturday,

I had my doubts about you when I first perched myself precariously on that barstool where my feet had no hope of touching the floor. Your inebriated voices were too much after my day in the Michigan Ave coatroom, in spite of a bubble bath, complete with candlelight and set to Mozart. But then you started feeding the little computerized jukebox on the wall with quarters and choosing songs by Journey, Taylor Swift, Keith Urban. My heart (and the bubbles floating in my Spaten) danced a little; God, I danced a little. And it totally rocked my Saturday night.

Love,
me

Thanks After Dark Attendees on the Street

Dear Girls Attending After Dark that Dalina and I ran into on the street,

Thanks for your vivacity, your sneakiness, your willingness to chitchat about where we were from, what we were doing. Especially, thanks for offerring to sneak us bottles of beer, which we politely turned down. In spite of the freezing wind and thousands of coats and scarves and drunken owners, it was nice to speak to someone kind and interested, rather than drunk and condescending. You guys were pretty cool.

Love,
me

Happiness

Happiness hit her like a train on a track...

I think maybe the Dog Days are Over.

Ok, maybe not over. But close to over. Coming to their finale, taking a bow. Maybe all of these months and days and seconds of being the most miserable human being that ever roamed the face of the planet are finally exploding into something beautiful and strange and new and excellent. Something so much better than anything I could have dreamed for the girl I used to be.

Perhaps this shaking out with a job and insurance and changes is some semblance of happy. I think perhaps this creeping excitement, the feeling that the world is my oyster, the desire to smile and say hello to everyone you pass on the street, everyone you sit next to on the bus.

I actually twirled down the street yesterday. Twirled. Seriously.

I'm not saying I'm there yet. But, a really long time ago, someone wrote something in his xanga to the effect of: She gets hurt, she breaks down, but then she pulls herself together and moves on. Because she's Ashley. (I paraphrase, of course. I'm not in the habit of seeking out things that will just make me horrifically depressed. Like xangas from times that I were certain the hardest I'd EVER face). And I think I'm there. I think this might be the start of the other end. The place where I get to be all smiles and cupcakes and rainbows and watermelon rings instead of a sobbing heap on the bedroom floor at the drop of a hat or the flick of an eyelash.

Anyway, here's to dreams that come true. And people that make you giggle in spite of yourself. And singing songs and twirling and blowing your breath out in puffs to see it in front of you in the freezing cold air. Here's to nights without nightmares and forgiving and moving on and loving and sharing smiles and beer and Impressionism and blasting Katy Perry as loudly as possible when no one is home. To believing in the fairy tale, even when it's not easy to see.

Most importantly, here's the finding happiness and strength in change and challenges and keeping your chin up the whole impossibly-hard way.

I remember; I think this is what happy feels like.

Thanks Matty

Dear Matty,

Thanks for letting me crawl into your bed and listening to my accounts of my escapades with wide eyes and open ears and no judgement (Unless it's worthy of being judged). Thanks for hallway high fives and love and support and smiles and the time we spend in the living room just catching up on all of the feelings we are having. I enjoyed our chat this morning ;)

Love,
me

Reasons I May Be the Queen of Self Sabatoge

1.) In spite of knowing certain things will instantly turn me into a puddle, like listening to my Jason Robert Brown Pandora station or thinking too much about the week's secrets from Post Secret, I do them anyway, without regard to the little screaming voice in my head desperately warning me to make better choices.

2.) I am a great communicator. I text. I call. I email. I document. I write. However, when it comes to times when this skill is really necessary, I'm really good at doing everything except responding to the letter from my grandmother on the counter or calling back the woman from that theatre company I was supposed to volunteer for or remembering to mail the store keys back to my former employer.

3.) In moments of perfect clarity, when I actually figure out that there is the potential for perfection in some given random situation, rather than pursuing with passion and putting up a fight, I find that I falter and step down silently, letting the moment slip by unnoticed and leaving nothing but some faint glitter of fleeting possibility.

4.) Clumsy. I think this appears in so many of my lists because it seriously is just one of the most crucial and true things about my entire being. I am just so clumsy. Both physically and thoughtfully. I trip when I get distracted by something shiny, both literally and metaphorically, most of the time making me seem like possibly the least put together human being you have ever ever met. (Although, to my credit, that damsel in distress thing has worked more times than I'd really care to admit...)

5.) I giggle. A lot. Like at really inappropriate times. About almost anything. Seriously. Inopportune.

6.) I play dumb. I'm not very good at owning up to my intelligence. Someone told me that people aren't into smart girls once, so I frequently, compulsively smile and nod and agree-with-everything-that-is-dripping-from-your-possibly-pretentious-possibly-wrong thoughts instead of showing off that I have several functional brain cells.

Thanks Jason

Dear Jason,

Thanks for still being the greatest from halfway across the country. All it takes is hearing Suddenly Seymour bursting forth from my phone and my heart lights up at the prospect of hearing your voice on the other end of the line, probably walking down a street that doesn't look too unlike the ones I'm walking on, Wintry and snowy and crowded with people trying to stay warm. I could talk to you for days, weeks, and still be wishing I could come collapse on your futon in my pajamas to watch romantic comedies and listen to musicals no one has ever heard of before. I miss you all the time.

Love,
me

Thanks Brandon

Dear Brandon,

Thanks for always being willing to go out of your way to rescue me from things like awkward encounters at karaoke bars and crying on guard rails in abandoned parking lot. You know how to reason and know the value of instantaneous long islands and always always always knowing the perfect motivational factor in any given situation. I enjoy sharing pancakes and pizza with you. (Meow Meow Kitty Cat)

Love,
me

Thanks Stephen

Dear Stephen,

Thanks for playing Mario Kart with me, listening to high pitched giggles and screams and serious frustrations. I know I'm not the greatest opponent, but you can always count on me to be dedicated and enthusiastic. You're a wonderful addition to our little family and I really love having you around. Mostly so I can sing that Taylor Swift song to you. All the time.

Love,
me

Thanks Break Room Lady

Dear Lady in the Break Room,

Thanks for breaking our awkward first day ice with your discussion of dollparts and interesting stories. You were amusing beyond belief, in spite of our being stuck in the break room, not knowing where to go or what to do next for an hour on our first day. I hope you amuse the people in your department as much as you amused the Visitor Services newbies :)

Cheers,
me

Thanks Bailey

Dear Bailey,

Thanks for dinners at The Pasta Bowl on nights when one really really needs a friend. Thanks for adventures in the city, for Twilight, for cupcakes, for hair color. I was really upset about my granny the other night and dinner with you really cheered me up. You just have that effect on people :)

Love,
me

Thanks Shannon

Dear Shannon,

Thanks for loving the Art Institute so much that you understand how exciting this new job is for me. Thanks for visiting me on my dinner break and wandering around to go get Bennigan's in the snowy downtown swirl after work. I'm glad we talked and that I got to sit for a bit; it was a lovely night to play catch up and watch the snow and the awkward guy with the salad hitting on the waitress across the room from us. Here's to picture cubes and burger joints.

Love,
me

Thanks David

Dear David,

Thanks for immediate phone call responses to text messaged disasters as they arise, no matter when, no matter where you are. Thanks for inviting me out even when you don't really want to go out, for distractions, for music, for sangria, for songs on walks on freezing Winter nights, for making me laugh until I don't remember why I was sad or mad or generally disgruntled. Thanks for sharing your friends. Most of all, thanks for listening, for paying attention, for noticing things like Chanel 75 and new shoes. It is greatly appreciated, always.

Love,
me

Thanks Terrell

Dear Terrell,

Thanks for doing all of the hard physical labor at the event we worked today. Checking one coat in 6 hours was pretty tough stuff, but you made it look so easy. Joking aside, thank you for conversation, for friendliness, for always being willing to help or step in to thwart any I'm-new-and-still-don't-really-know-how-to-direct-you-to-American-Gothic-or-La-Grande-Jatte-or-anything-other-than-the-modern-wing kinds of crises. I also really loved your stories about traveling and making music. Epic.

Love,
me

Thanks AIC

Dear Art Institute of Chicago,

Thanks for hiring me. Thanks for giving me real hours, a steady paycheck, and best of all, a plethora of benefits. Even though 403b's are way over my head and I don't really understand the difference between a PPO and an HMO, I'm incredibly incredibly thankful I finally have to figure them out. Also, breakfast and lunch (And even that slightly-burned-hanging-out-too-long-in-the-carafe coffee) were a lovely gesture.

Cheers,
Me

Thanks Mollie

Dear Mollie,

Thanks for baking brownies with me. For meeting me late at night downtown to ride home together, for listening to my exasperation, for letting me cuddle your kitten and watch the playoffs at your apartment. I don't think I could ever express how much all the little things you do mean to me.

Love,
me

PS~ The caramel nibs were totally a win. And we neeeeed Katy Perry nail polish.

Thanks Shirley

Dear Shirley,

Thanks for sitting down in the empty chair next to me yesterday, with your friendly smile and fuzzy hat. Thanks for jumping into conversation immediately, assuring me that my dreams will come true, when you don't even know what my dreams are, where my heart is. It's ok, Shirley, I don't either. But it seems like things are falling into place more and more every single day. So, I think you are right. I think my dreams will come true if I hang in there. Your reminder meant more than you could possibly know.

Love,
me

2011

Ok.

It's 2011.

This means several things to me.

a.) I survived 2010, and looking back on this blog around that time, I think we all know that's a miracle in itself.

b.) New start. New job. New committment to the Rule of Four. I'm making the most of this opportunity to change things I'm not happy with for the better.

c.) Gratitude. I'm thankful I survived 2010. I'm thankful for my big girl job. I'm thankful that it's snowy. I'm thankful for a lot of things. And this year, I want to show my gratitude to one person every day. 365 thank you notes will appear in this blog before Jan 1, 2012. Even if the first few are retrospective...And flood your little Networked Blog feed on facebook. Sorry.

d.) I'm just too excited for this year to start and to see what it has to bring me in the way of challenges and opportunities. I'm ready.

Cheers,
Ash

Snow

Today, from my big girl job at the Art Institute, I had the privilege of watching the snow fall. All day long. From the Michigan Avenue Coat Room, I watched through the big windows. Big flakes floating and sticking to sidewalk, lions, windblown tourists. Perfection.

On the way home, I leapt into tiny snowbanks to leave my footprints, giggling a little more like a kindergartener than a grad student as my boots squished into these little collections of snowflakes along the sidewalk. I looked up, caught snowflakes on my tongue, felt them glitter in streetlights as they melted onto my nose.

I won't lie. I even took advantage of the slippery street and twirled through the wind, enjoying the dusky halflight of a cloudy, winter evening. Snow sparkles, covering everything in sight, more like confetti than ice cubes. It's one of my favorite sights, light glittering off of snow when it's not quite light and not quite dark. That and the snow in moonlight and streetlights, when you can see it all whirling about through the air (sparkling; most importantly).

All this twirling, all this glitter blanketing the world in its glowy happiness; it's dreadfully romantic. It makes me want to be swept off my feet for nights full of snuggling with someone very warm and walking through cold, night air arm in arm with no one else on the street, and kisses under those snowy streetlights. And copious amounts of Bailey's, hot chocolate, and romantic movies.

Loving this Winter Wonderland...