Sleeping

It's 5 am.

I have been AWAKE since 4 am.

I cannot seem to fall asleep again. Again, something is making my brain, my pulse race race raccccccce since I jolted awake an hour ago.

And, so, here I am. In Auburn, Alabama; chilling in the bed that has been mine for so many years. Surrounded by my things, although they are in a different room, a different house.

Like usual, I'm wondering how to turn it off; the worry, the waiting, the wishing. How to make my mind sit by nicely as I take a ten day respite from the struggle against the cold, against the money I don't seem to ever have enough of, against the exhausted, burnt out feeling ofhavingheld multiple jobs for multiple years now.

I'm closing my laptop. I'm turning over and hoping for the best. I'm going to be calm and, damnit; I'm going to sleep. And sleep well. All wrapped up in this bed and its memories and an overwhelming amount of love and tiger stripes.

Goodnight.

You're too Pretty to be That Girl

Someone very dear to me, in a heart to heart on a Musical Monday, told me a few weeks ago in reference to my qualms about relationships and men and vices and moving on and whatnot, "You're too pretty to be that girl."

I am thankful for this thought, even if I'm having a little trouble completely agreeing that it is applicable to this girl at this very second in my life. This is a good thought. I like this thought. I like that carefully manicured nails and well-trimmed bangs and thoughtfully applied Chanel 75 can battle being that girl. That a little playful confidence can will a text message during a tryst to work out the way you want it to. But surely enough, no amount of red lipstick seems to cover it in my eyes: I. Am. That. Girl.

Insecure, moody, messy, jealous, and sometimes even spiteful. Kind even when it kills, sunny dispositioned and fighting a slew of dark clouds. Worried and watchful, waiting. Trying to get through the tangle of how to move on and be ok for good. Well-intentioned but not sure how to make my dreams come true; sleepy and smart, a whirl of emotions exponentially more complicated than I could ever put into words. A ball of white hot rage burning in a huggge heart that would love everyone and everything if it could.

Furthermore, I am still THAT girl.

Worse, I am THAT girl and I'm not sure if I even believe in the fairy tale anymore. That's right. I said it. This princess can't seem to find a fairy tale she fits into, a glass slipper in a size 7 1/2, and trust me, poufy ball gowns on this figure just make me look like a cupcake.

I'm feeling dull, lackluster; this feeling vastly increased by a series of failed attempts to get back out there and misplaced emotions of the garden good and bad variety. This feeling vastly increased by the constant inescapable comparison in the back of my mind, excacerbated by staying in on weekend nights, by that truly desperate loneliness that only the holidays can bring, by the paralyzing fear of making all of the same mistakes that I have ever made in any friendship or relationship before.

I get it. This indicates a certain degree of not-readiness. Fine. These things will happen when they are meant to. But why am I having such a hard time feeling pretty inside and out? I have lovely things. I have people who love me. I am kind to others. I try really hard to match my shoes to my ensembles (Unless it's snowy and then the Croc boots win every time.)

Not to like get all crazy on the lack of self-esteem train because this most assuredly is not what this is. I believe in myself; I'm just feeling invisible, transparent, somewhat ashamed of my ongoing inability to be ok, to be functional, to pay my bills, to get enough sleep, etc etc etc.

And this is where it was always nice to have someone to curl into a ball with on the couch, to flatter my vanity and kiss me on the cheek before I left for work/school/shows. It's a time when it would be nice for out of nowhere, in some back corner of the bookstore where I buy my french books, I brush hands with someone who wants to buy the same French translation of Crime & Punishment that I'm looking at. When my umbrella breaks on the street, some tall, dark, and handsome stranger offers to let me borrow his. It's where it would be nice to be swept off my feet, surprised, reminded personally and not just by seeing it in others that magic and fairy tales do exist.

I'm a dreamer. I'm a hopeless romantic. I have honestly watched Notting Hill hundreds and hundreds of times. I don't think romance or fairy tales need to be standard to be magical; I don't expect Prince Charming to appear out of nowhere in the snow outside in a puff of smoke and whisk me away to a place where I don't have to worry about money or papers or writing or findind a job. Where I feel pretty sitting on my couch in my pajamas, typing furiously on a snowy Sunday morning, in spite of the way my bangs have crimped from a failed attempt at a side braid the night before.

But, I mean, my polka dotted fleece-y pajamas are pretty adorable. And I know that someday, I'll meet someone who isn't Brian or Elyse or Matty that thinks so too. And I wear red lipstick like it's going out of style. I understand the timelessness of black liquid liner and how much a compliment can make someone's day, how far a little kindness can go.

I'm going to go put my teacup in the dishwasher and start my day and try to ignore the things that being that girl implies. I'm going to go to the gym. I'm going to read. I'm going to keep being me, keep trying to be kind, keep trying to be forgiving, keep trying to stay abreast of current trends without destroying my bank account, keep putting on lipstick just to walk to the grocery store, keep talking to strangers on the train, in line for lunch, and in the elevator. Maybe I'll even ask that guy that I keep running into from Marketing for coffee.

Mostly though, I'm going to keep reminding myself that I'm too pretty to be that girl until I can finally agree inside and out, see it in the mirror and feel it from within. I'll probably always be that girl. That's who I am. Granted, usually happier, but someday, I'll run down the list without cringeing. I'll agree that my exceptional qualities vastly outweigh the bad, and I'll be happy with the smile I see in the mirror. I guess it's all moving forward and figuring it out until I get there.

Thanks Jennie

Dearest Jennie,

It's always funny how people from your past past wander back into your life at the most curious times. I could not have been more happy to walk in to you on my couch yesterday. You always make me smile with your dry wit, your cool humor, and your overwhelming intelligence and poise. I loved getting to catch up with you and hope to see you many times over again very very soon.

Love,
me

Thanks Swagger and Tampa

Dear Swagger and Tampa,

Thanks for interrupting Bailey's and my post-dinner-well-earned-after-the-completely-crazy-day-we-had drinks last night with your questions, your interest, you general amusing qualities. You certainly turned our random tripout of the rain and into the bar for a beer into a serious adventure, talk of tea-bagging and all.

I know it's because Bailey and I are so bad-ass :) (She is the B to my A, after all).

Most of all, thanks for a little attention when I was starting to wonder if people were looking straight through me to the other side, and for being the answer to my current need to meet and befriend everyone in the world.

I hope Swag's post-T-Box-having-been-drinking-for-at-least-12-hours-when-we-left-him-at-the-bar hangover is manageable and I hope Tampa succeeds in becoming a sports analyst someday.

Love,
me

Thanks Kim

Dear Kim,

Thanks for coming over on Friday night at 10:30 from across town just to catch up. Thanks for chatting and listening and bringing a present. Seeing you, spending time with you always always always warms my heart. I'm so glad that you are happy, that you are settled, that you are successful. Your contentment always gives me hope that things are going to shake out exactly how they are supposed to for me one day too, and that is something I could never be reminded of too many times.

Love,
me

Thanks Mollie

Dear Mollie,

Thanks for helping me mix cocoa powder, crush candy canes, and whip up peppermint buttercream for the cookies I took to work on Friday. Baking with you always makes me feel a little calmer, in a whirl of flour and accompaniment provided by Miley Cyrus. And those cookies were absolute perfection.

Love,
me

Unsettled

I'm feeling dreadfully unsettled and restless tonight.

I need to be awake in five hours, but I can't seem to will myself to sleep. I can't remember how to still my mind, how to slow my breathing, how to slow myself. It's all run run run run run this way and that way in circles until I can't seem to see where I started or how to end.

And so I'm chasing my tail. Trying to calm myself. Trying not to worry about the future and tests and papers and jobhunting and drama (which I'm much too old for!)

Time to count sheep?

Burlesque

New life goal:

Christina Aguilera Pipes. Glitter. Fake Eyelashes and Red Lipstick. Leboutain Heels. Hot-Sometimes-Plays-An-Evil-Vampire-But-Is-Way-Cuter-Playing-the-Piano kind of love interest.

Check.

(Show a little more...)

Thanks Madeline

Dear Madeline,

Thanks for always making friendly conversation and having the answer to all of my silly questions from across our shared cubicle wall. I'm glad you like lattes and Taylor Swift and have an affinity for boots and books and black eyeliner. Thanks for accompanying me to the Company Book Fair and for not judging me too much when I purchased more books than I could carry. It always makes my afternoon when you ask if I want anything from Starbucks or when we get distracted talking about what to wear when. If anyone was going to replace Laura, my old cubicle neighbor, I'm just so glad it was you.

Love,
me

Thanks Melanie and Martha

Dear Misses Melanie and Martha,

Thank you for covering for my super sick behind while I sat with my head between my knees, bundled up in my winter coatn in the back room. You guys are my heroes for facing the Saturday crowd, for braving the snow and for handling limo complications while I felt like I was going to die. I appreciate you guys taking care of me.

Love,
me

Battling the Holiday Gloomies

Confession: I have been unusually gloomy this Holiday season.

Perhaps this started with having pneumonia and still not being caught up with the flurry of work work and school work and house work I got behind on during this period of my life. Perhaps it's the the lack of daylight awake hours caused by daylight savings time. Perhaps it's the realization that without my car, I have to spend a great deal of time traveling from place to place, generally in the cold.

Regardless, I have been anxious, sad, generally disgruntled.

I mean, I walked into Macy's last week, the mecca of Christmas shopping, holiday melodies, glitter, glitz and ornaments the size of an average human child. Things that have always made me smile. When I was in high school, I used to plan elaborate treks to the mall at Fairfield Commons to go Christmas shopping for the perfect gifts for my friends, humming Christmas songs from Thanksgiving to New Year's. Casey and I would spend a crazy evening every year assembling little bags of Christmas cheer for people in our classes.

This year, the music made me sad. The couples scurrying around together on Black Friday made me feel infinitely lonely. When I tried to go shopping for my roommate I drew for Secret Santa, I was unfocused and in desperate need of a picker upper by the time I came out, empty handed no less.

Maybe it's a growing pain about Christmas and being away from my family. Maybe it's just another reminder that things are not the way they used to be, not as comfortable as that week we spent at the sewing machine making those quilts. Maybe it's the walk in the rain when I realized that that thing that wasn't going to be a thing meant more to me than I ever bothered to mention and the moment for mentioning slipped past.

I don't know.

But here I am. I'm in my living room. Surrounded by my roommate's Christmas joy. A village, a tree, sparkly pieces of felt draping everything like snow, even the Eiffel Tower. There's a wreath, there are even presents, mailed to me from people I love in Ohio. I've talked to my family 4 times today.

So where is the holiday cheer I've always wrapped so closely around my heart to keep me warm and bubbly and effervescent when it's snowy and freezing and it's just me and Ewok at night? Is it in batches of Christmas cookies? Holiday films about Santa?

I think it's about slowing down, about seeing love in it's hundred and one different forms and not getting so caught up in spreadsheets and boys that don't call or care and who you did that with last year that you forget that Holidays are about the people you love unconditionally, for thankfulness, for taking more than a lunch break to find a Christmas present. It's for snail mailing cards sealed with kisses to people you haven't talked to enough since last Christmas. It's about small victories in the toy aisle and sharing Peppermint Mochas and heart to hearts with your best friend. It's the joy of the first rip of wrapping paper and kisses from your Granny's lips and the smell of White Shoulders powder on her neck, familiar and welcoming, no matter how long its been between phone calls. Love. Love. Love. It's all about remembering that love come in all shapes and sizes and from all people and places, where you expect it and where you don't; when you need it the most, it's always there.

So, with that thought, I'm going to take a deep breath, still my thoughts, and drink some tea. And remember all of the tiny things that Christmas is really about.

Winter...

Well, Winter is upon us. And I, delicate Southern Belle though I may be, happen to really and truly love Winter. In all of its snowy, occaisionally gloomy, overly-commercial-jam-packed-with-too-many-holidays-to-really-enjoy glory. There are several things that make me particularly happy about the onset of Winter.

1.) Snow. God, I just love the way snowflakes look blowing against a deeply purple sky, swirling about in streetlights, finding windows, branches, and eyelashes to rest upon. Snowballs, trudging to the bus stop in giant boots and mittens, watching it snow from the warmth of inside. White, powdery perfection.

2.) Hot Chocolate. I know hot chocolate is not reserved only for the Winter. But only in the Winter does it have the magic, the crazy-restorative-healing-tingly-warmth to save even the icicliest of people from the Winter blahs. Mix with Bailey's and friends for warm and wonderful conversations.

3.) Snuggling. Baby, it's cold outside. And when it's cold outside, I just want to stroll and hold hands and snuggle in for movie night or a glass of wine by the fire. I get all, If you really hold me tight, all the way home I'll be warm, eyelash-flutter-kiss-on-the-cheek. Maybe it's the magic or snow and twinkly lights and feeling the wind gusting, willing you someplace warm; I just like to be warm not on my own I suppose ;)

4.) Ice Skating. Ok, I know I'm the least coordinated person in the world, and odds are, if you are reading this, you know me and can second this motion. But, give me ice skates and I'll Nancy Kerrigan you. Well, at least I'll try. And as I wobble close to the side where you can hold on and wipe out occaisionally, I always find great joy in sore ankles and busted kneecaps when they are accompanied by ice, the Chicago skyline, and great WinterWear.

5.) Cuddl Duds. I swear by these things. I seriously wear them all the time; under jeans, as leggings, doubled up and tucked into boots. Thanks, Mom and Granny.

Anyway, you know how I feel about everyday romance and magic, etc etc. And I think you know that Winter is just full of magic. Anyway, I was feeling awful this morning, coming off of a terrible bout of some random and awful stomach virus (Ew.), and then I discovered a Winter Wonderland just off my front steps. Love love love.

Thanks Journalism Peers

Dear Journalism Peers,

Thank you for being kind to my library story even though it was totally all over the place. You were constructive and pointed out the positives and made me feel like a really great writer. Which is hard to do. Especially in real life. Where my palms get sweaty and my face flushes the color of strawberries at the peak of summer when someone is reading something I've written. But today, it was not nearly so traumatic.

Love,
me

24 Things That Were Awesome About Turning 24

1.) Presents! I recieved so many wonderful things: chanel red lipstick, a gorgeous Kate Spade wallet, silicon baking cups, ramikins, etc. It was lovely.



2.) My roommates threw me a rocking party. They themed it out. People came, they dressed up, they drank, they had a wonderful time. I love that.



3.) My party nearly sparked a resurgence in Communist revolutionary tendencies.



4.) Even though Mollie, Bran, David, Bailey, and Brian were tired and busy and had a million things to do, they still sucked it up and went out on a Wednesday.



5.) I sang "A Whole New World" at a gay bar, karaoke style, with Brandon.



6.) I got really really sick (Ok, that wasn't awesome) and inadvertently was forced to take a week-long vacation to convalesce. Boring, but who can argue with sleeping all day?



7.) Mollie started my day off with coffee and an Ann Sather cinnamon roll. Perfection.



8.) My parents came to visit! I love them :)



9.) Conor and Manny baked me a really excellent cake; yellow with chocolate frosting. And vodka gummy bears. Win.



10.) Bailey did my hair on my birthday and for my party. Without her, I would not have been pretty.



11.) Dancing. Dancing. Dancing. Dirty dancing, swing dancing, slow dancing. Spinning, Twirling, Hands Upping. Dancing was done by all.



12.) I babysat Tessa on my birthday. She just wanted to snuggle. There was no screaming. Amazing.



13.) I'm not 23 anymore. See below.


14.) I did not have to give up on that thing I was going to give up on if that other thing had not happened.


15.) Elyse came home in time for my party!!! <3 money =" new">

23 Reasons Blink 182 Was Right: Nobody Likes You When You're 23

1.) That ambiguous time between your early twenties and your mid twenties. Ew.

2.) College is over, but in this economy, it's not very likely that the rest of your life has started.

3.) Broke broke broke. Food is expensive. Beer is expensive. Life is expensive.

4.) Walking the line between angsty teen and responsible adult is really hard.

5.) Your friends all start getting engaged and getting married. Because that's clearly the next step toward growing up. This causes much anxiety when you are not even close to ready to settle down.

6.) If you've never seen the world, this is when wanderlust settles around you like a little fog you can barely see anything else through. It's born of the vague, angsty dissatisfaction not quite being a grown up brings.

7.) Champagne tastes. Beer Budget. Familial financial support is cut back on the road to financial independence. This makes it hard to buy those cute shoes in the window at Macy's.

8.) No one cares that you graduated from college in 3 years with a 3.9. No one.

9.) Your friends are very likely just as vaguely dissastisfied as you are. Therefore, making them less than fun to hang out with.

10.) You experience the biggest round of growing pains since kindergarten around this time and that takes a toll on even the most put-together, successful 23-year-old.

11.) In the absence of a real job in the recession, you probably have to pick up a cruddy job. Like working for a salon and spa for rich little girls. Or selling popcorn to tourists. It's a hard life, but it pays the bills.

12.) You have to learn how to do your own laundry. I successfully did not do a load of laundry until I was almost 22. At 23, I had to start learning the finer points of separating and using different soaps and drying certain things outside of the dryer.

13.) You have to learn how to cook. The grown up inside of you is no longer satisfied with doritos and easy mac. So you have to find recipes, devote time to preparation, cooking, experimenting. And sometimes your efforts are less than successful (e.g. -- salsa chicken. ew. not to be confused with chicken salsa. which is a gift from god.)

14.) Sometimes you don't get what you want. This is where that cataclysmic crumbling of everything you thought was going to happen after college that you've been plotting and planning since you were ten falls down around your head and you have to start over again.

15.) You have to make your own doctor's appointments, take your own sick days, pick up your own prescriptions.

17.) You have to buy your own groceries and clothes; le sigh.

18.) Laugh lines.

19.) Credit cards and scores become scary and loom over your every financial move.

20.) No one understands you. No one.

21.) You have to make a serious decision about what you want to be when you grow up which weighs on you at the gym, when you are picking out ground turkey and riding the bus to visit friends from work.

22.) Jealousy rears its little green head alllll the time.

23.) The combination of these factors make you miserable. And whiny. And teary. And it's hard.

Therefore, I'm very excited that I'm not 23 anymore :)

Thanks Elyse

Dear Elyse,

Thanks for coming home, for caring about the radioactive roaches that are living in the microwave, for using your lesbian superpowers for good and not evil. I know that you are a little glum, but I also know that there's no one in the world more incredible and talented and wonderful and warm than you. This girl knows all of your dreams are going to come true and probably sooner than you think. Until then, it's fa-la-la-lattes and netflix and couch snuggles :)

Hugs and kisses forever,
Ashley

Reasons It's Not Fun to Have Pneumonia or Similar Respiratory Illnesses

1.) You have to stay in bed. And not do anything. Because when you do leave your bed, you wheeze and cough in a really unattractive, unflattering way. You also feel like your limbs are made of lead so movement becomes challenging. And not in that fun-I'm-doing-the-crossword-puzzle-in-the-New-York-Times kind of way.

2.) Steroids make you puffy. Ew. And this makes fitting into your skinny jeans tres difficult.

3.) Reading is fun. For a little while. So is watching episode after episode of TV show. Eventually this becomes old hat. Even if that TV show is wonderful, like Pushing Daisies.

4.) Inhalers make it hard to focus. So, on top of being wheezy, you are woozy and therefore wholly unproductive. Therefore, it is easy to get behind in work work and schoolwork. Boo.

5.) You cannot work if you cannot stand or move without wheezing or woozing. No work means no money. No money means no shoes, no black eyeliner, and no groceries.

6.) Pneumonia makes you exhausted. Sleeping is nice, but day after day after day. It leaves you desperate for a little energy, a little fun.

7.) Coughing from your wheezy, tight, foggy chest is rather painful.

8.) People are not sympathetic to your cause. They seem to think it's easy to fake respiratory illness. They also lack a basic understanding of pulmonary problems. You can't catch someone's astma, fyi.

9.) Breathing treatments take me immediately back to being twelve and chubby and awkward with my Nancy Drew books and Audrey Hepburn dresses that wouldn't be cool until I graduated from college. Talk about a painful place to land.

Anyway, I'm glad I'm starting to get better. Yay!

Cheers

It's windy. I can see the little puffs of air swirling viciously through the trees; hear it trying to tear through my flue. Not unlike the wind the whirled my slightly shorter hair around my face, wet with rain and tears as I stood on the McClennan's back porch about a year ago one grey afternoon, suddenly realizing that my life as I knew it was crumbling all around me.

I made it through the wilderness, blah blah blah. No one loves to celebrate the accomplishment of having gotten through this whirlwind of a year more than me. No one loves to relish in how far I've come more than I do. But that's not what I'm thinking about today. I am reflecting on the year, of course; how could I not, with the birthday and bedrest and whatnot?

Today, I'm reminded subtly of crushing blows and spontaneous car rides, sleepovers on futons, showtunes, red lipstick, dancing, and more gin than anyone should ever drink. And Katy Perry and the Stanley Cup and hot chocolate spiked with Bailey's when it's snowy. I'm reminded that my life has gone on, in spite of certain unforeseen hiccups, and I'm thankfully nudged to remember that things never stop moving forward. I'm reminded to keep forgiving, myself and others.

But, tonight, I'm feeling that familiar breath of panic, the push toward being a little terrified about what happens next. Mostly because I've finally fallen head over heels for something closely related to a career. And because there are a few other things that I'd like to take a chance on. Things I'm not even sure I know where to begin when it comes to taking chances.

I'm worrying that my wanderlust will never be satisfied; that I might not ever see the Sphinx or the Eiffel Tower or the rest of the world. How do you see the world when you can barely pay your rent? Faith. Trust. Pixie Dust.

And I'm remembering that sometimes it's ok to just hold your breath, hope, and make wishes when you kiss the wall at 11:11 (Confession: I almost always pick the same wish when I wish on the wall, in wells, or on eyelashes.). Wishes help turn obstacles into popcicles.

Cheers to the year it's been and all of the things I've learned, loved, and become along the way. Here's to never forgetting to be a little terrified; it keeps you on your toes. And mostly, here's to wishes and dreams and never giving up on any of them, no matter how far out of reach they sometimes seem. Here's to happy; here's to love in every possible way. And, of course, here's to you.

Adieu, 23. Adieu.

Thanks Fireplace

Dear Fireplace,

Thanks for being the centerpiece of our living room, glowy and gorgeous and golden when lit, casting glittery flickers of light throughout the living room, washing our laptops and stolen afghan in delicate light and shadow. You are warm and make this place feel so much like a home to my heart. I love nothing more than sitting with the roommates and gazing upon you while I catch up on facebook and reveal my heart in my melodramatic fashion from my corner of the couch.

Love,
me

Thanks Valerie

Dear Valerie,

Thanks for the first birthday present of the year, a tiny piece of red fabulousness that reminds me of YOU. It matches my planner with perfection. And everytime I go for my id or my money, it will be like you are with me, kind of. Or at least, a little bitty part of my heart will have a friendly flip in thinking about how lucky I am to have you in my life. I love it and I love you.

All my love and a little more,
Ashley

Things I Want For My Birthday

Ok. My birthday is in 2 weeks. 14 Shopping Days. So, for anyone seekingto purchase a present, I thought I would make your life a little easier. Besides, birthday presents sound like a better diversion than the sonnet paper I should be completing currently...

1.) My charm bracelet back :(

2.) A new cognac faux leather motorcycle jacket that I'm not cool enough to wear to replace the one I so carelessly left behind that one night at the Houndstooth.

3.) World peace.

4.) A pony.

5.) Cupcake papers.

6.) A really good icing bag.

7.) Recipes for fun foods.

8.) Music you think I'll like and don't have.

9.) Books you think I'll like and haven't read.

10.) I'd really like to go see about a million shows that are playing right now. Take me to see one?

11.) Black ballet flats. Size 7 1/2. Preferably with a bow or some other interesting detailing.

12.) Canned goods. Or frozen foods.

13.) Pumpkin cupcake from Molly's.

14.) A really excellent dinner date to somewhere I've never been before.

15.) Drinks at The Violet Hour or The Signature Room or somewhere where a new dress is equally necessary.

16.) A half price pitcher of sangria on 11/3.

17.) An adventure to see something I've never seen in the city before.

18.) Magnificent Mile Shopping Spree.

19.) Colts tickets. I haven't been a season without a game in like 3 years!

20.) Maroon 5 tickets. Please and thank you.

21.) Katy Perry's CD. Duh.

22.) Giftcards. I'm not offended by them in the least.

23.) EReader of some sort.

24.) Photoshop

25.) Notebooks. Nice enough for interviewing.

26.) A career.

27.) The Creative Habit by Twyla Tharp

28.) Take the Comprehensive Exam for my MA for me?

29.) Money. I take donations in all increments.

30.) Riding boots. Brown.

31.) Hang my photos and fix my broken things for me?

32.) Tiffany Key necklace. The plain, sterling silver one.

33.) Trip to Germany?

34.) A food processor.

35.) Bowls and plates.

36.) A dresser.

37.) The black dress in the window of the Hugo Boss store.

38.) A bag worth bragging about.

39.) A bag that will hold my laptop and my books and my notebooks.

40.) A DSLR to replace the one I formerly had...

41.) Quarters.

42.) Vanessa and Valerie in the same place at the same time.

43.) Scarves. In alllll different colors.

44.) New headshots. I need them and soooo can't afford them.

45.) Brides who need weddings planned.

46.) Winter clothing or the means through which to acquire said clothing.

47.) Socks and skivvies.

48.) Canned goods. Seriously. A girl has got to eat.

49.) I'd really like to see a musical on Broadway.

50.) Brunch at Orange or cinnamon rolls at Ann Sather. Dinner at some epic downtown place I've always wanted to try but have never had an occaision to.

51.) Beauty and the Beast on DVD.

52.) Twirl by Kate Spade perfume.

53.) Black Kate Spade trench in Glamour this month.

54.) Ramikins.

56.) Stick Blender.

57.) Meat thermometer.

58.) A new bottle of Burberry Brit perfume.

59.) A fabulous and sturdy umbrella.

60.) Someone to retrieve the music that is stuck on my old laptop that I have no working charger for. It's a PowerBook G4 circa 2005. haha.

61.) Mani/Pedi

62.) Hot Rollers

63.) Massage.

64.) Take me to see the world.

65.) A sweet fedora.

66.) A watch. Men's like but a little feminine; You know the kind.

Now, this list is not exhaustive and independent ideas are always highly valued. :) But really, the best birthday present would be your pretty face at my birthday party. November 6. Be there. :)

hugs and kisses,

the almost birthday girl

Thanks EvanstonSkokieNorthernSuburbs

Dear EvanstonSkokieNorthernSuburbs,

Thanks for providing me with things I don't have in the Greater Chicago Metropolitan Area, like backyards and Steak and Shake and gas that costs less than $3 a gallon. For whatever set of reasons, going to a place where people drive more than they walk and have terrible service in chain restaurants with fairly standard fare helps ease the homesickness in this sentimental heart. Seasonal milkshakes from servers who can't get a simple order right and taking wrong turns down streets with skateboard shops and subduvusions take me right back to North Fairfield Road in Beavercreek, OH, and that warms this certified city girl's heart.

Love,
me

A Kiss is Just a Kiss... (As featured on the blog of Love, Lulu Mae)

“A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.” ~Ingrid Bergman.

Kisses. Pecks, French, on the cheek, with your grandma, closed-lipped, open-mouthed. Are any two kisses ever the same, even between the same kisser and kissee? And is there anything more lovely than a kiss? I still sign all of my letters with x’s and o’s, as taught by my Granny in 1993 when I was learning to write letters. Sometimes, for letters that need extra love, I even break out my favorite red lipstick (And I think we all know how I feel about red lipstick…) and actually leave kissy marks at the bottom of whatever correspondence I’m mailing, hopeless romantic that I am.

Kisses are delightful. Even goodbye kisses remind us of what there is to look forward to or to come home to. And when you have a romantic kissing dry spell, there’s always the kiss on the forehead from your best friend, the kiss on the cheek when you greet someone, a sneaky kiss when someone gets a wild hair to play Spin the Bottle on Easter (Please tell me that’s not just my crazy friends…).

And then, suddenly, a real kiss ends the time without. After months of pecks on the cheeks and kisses goodbye to Granny on the phone, in the middle of conversation about what you are working on or while rocking out on the dance floor to Katy Perry or over a Venti Pumpkin Spice Latte, someone leans in and really kisses you and there aren’t words for the melty-weak-in-the-knees-in-and-out-of-the-moment-breathless-tickly minute it happens; lips touching lips, the tickle of moustache underneath a nose, all caught up and spinny with what must be all the blood in your body rushing into your cheeks. And then there’s the second after, with breath caught up somewhere else and lovely haziness keeping the nervous chatter at bay. Delicious.

I believe in that second with every teeny tiny bit of my slightly too romantic heart.

But, even if that’s not the kind of kisses you are getting or giving, I implore you: don’t give up on kisses. Give more than it seems you should. Kiss babies, kiss strangers, kiss your mom. Blow a kiss to the waiter that brings your mimosas at your Sunday Brunch. A kiss is such a miniscule gesture, a captured and contained moment of love or romance or passion or ecstatic excitement, but for such a tiny time commitment, a kiss always means so much. So, dear reader, love and kisses to you for a wonderful weekend!

Reasons I Love My Job at the Tribune

1.) Sweet SWAG. Like T shirts and sticky notes and pens and copies of the Chicago Tribune and Chicago Magazine.

2.) An incredible and energetic team. They are vibrant and young and incredibly dedicated to doing their best. I love being a part of the positivity on our floor.

3.) I have a cubicle of my own that overlooks Michigan Avenue. Even if that cubicle is only on the second floor.

4.) I work in one of the coolest buildings in Chicago, the Tribune Tower, Epic.

5.) When onsite for Chronicles of the Cursed, I get to have a headset and hang out in the Production Trailer. Which makes me seem important and I like that.

6.) Opportunity. This really is just such an incredible opportunity for me and I just couldnt be more thankful about it. :)

7.) I get to wear big girl clothes to work.

8.) I commute downtown everyday. This leaves time for crosswords and Tolstoy and the Red Eye and listening to music I really love.

9.) The Tribune Media Group is now on my resume!

10.) They care about my life and safety. And do things like pay for cab rides home when I'm way out of the way. Even though they all hardly know me.

11.) It just makes me so incredibly happy.

Thanks David

Dear David,

Thanks for being up for anything. Including Twilight, Letters to Juliet, frozen pizza, and ice cream. Thanks for pouring diet ginger ale over ice and scooping ice cream while I remained curled up in fetal position on your couch. I greatly appreciated the cheering and indulgence while I was not feeling so hot. Also, thanks for infinite advice about boys and going to the ends of the earth and way more out of your way than you have to in an effort to cheer me up when I'm feeling a little bluer than normal. And thanks for answering the phone at 2 AM when I'm inebriated and need help and friendly voices to be able to get home. We do have a love worth crossing oceans for. Bad soundtrack and all. Hahahaha.

Love,
me

Reasons Valerie Jonkoff should be in the Same Zip Code as Me

1.) I would not have to pine away for her if she were in the same zip code as me. As is, I see her two or three times a year. And that is just not close to enough for someone whose heart is in my heart all the time.

2.) We would have so many adventures. Rooftop parties with Irish guys in Wrigleyville, brunch on the mag mile, shopping with money we don't really have. Vodka tonics, doritos, Mom's salsa and walks along the lakefront. Perfection, right?

3.) We could share clothing. Valerie has seriously gorgeous stuff in her wardrobe and if she were easily accessible, her clothes would be too. And vice versa for mine. Although mine are less exciting.

4.)I could tell her about my life in person. On evenings that involve wine or chocolate when necessary. Besides, when things go awry, she'd be here to force feed me Sicilian Pizza from California Pizza Kitchen.

5.) Our epic hunts for the loves of our lives would be infinitely better with mutual moral support in person, not just via facebook chat or phone calls.

6.) While talking on the phone or conversing online is lovely and a great way to stay in touch, the Valerie response faces are lacking. The exasperated eyes or the frustrated lip curl or the excited smile that is just so contagious you feel all rainbows-kittens-unicorns-sunshine happy about it. These are priceless moments, lost in distance. Tragic.

7.) Did I mention if we were together I would get to miss her less?

8.) Infinite wisdom. Infinite support. Infinite love. Infinite hope. Present in current relationship. Really put in to practice with new, closer relationship with less distance. There are not many people in the world that remind me no matter what. no matter how black things get, no matter how far off course I roam that things will be ok, that I'm incredible with the same fierceness as Valerie. (Mutual feeling, of course)

9.) We would for sure be able to really shake each other out of current moods and funks. With happiness and love and hugs and sunshine. And probably more rainbows.

I miss you, Valerie Joyce Cynthia Jonkoff.

Hugs and kisses,
A

Thanks Bailey

Dear Bailey,

Thanks for the excellent new hair color. I keep staring at it in windows and mirrors and shaking my hair to see how it looks during epic hair flips and the way it catches different light when I tilt my head like this or that. Needless to say, I'm a little smitten. But I'm also smitten with you and your infectious smile and laugh and adventurous spirit. I'm soooo Team Bailey :)

Love,
me

Thanks Vanessa

Dear Vanessa,

Thanks for reminding what kind of lady I am exactly when I need to hear it the most. In fact, I'm about to start reading a novel in French to distract myself. And maybe start learning a new language. We are reading poetry in my Shakespeare class and if we still loved together, I'd probably be forcing you to listen to me read aloud. I miss those nights. Poetry and Twilight and Bombay potatoes :)

Hugs and kisses,
me

Downtown, as featured on the blog of Love, Lulu Mae

Petula Clark sings to us about the beauty of going downtown; you know, where “Everything’s waiting for you!” I have found this week that this could just not be more true. Downtown Chicago is possibly the second most magical place in world (Disney World being the first, naturally.)

I started a new job (at the Chicago Tribune, no less) this week, so I get to get up three days a week, put on clothes that are not going to get glitterfied and regurgitated upon by minions and take the train from Boystown down to Grand and State. I do a crossword and listen to my iPod or chat with my mom before removing myself from the Red Line and walking the few blocks over to Michigan Ave and down to the Tribune Tower. Here, I swipe an ID to access my floor and go to my cubicle. My cubicle in the Tribune Tower that overlooks Michigan Ave. Victory. Cubicles are supposed to be gray and depressing and completely uninspiring. But not this cubicle.

This girl is more than a little starstruck. Seriously.

I look out my window and there’s the river and tourists taking photos and businessmen running late to meetings hurrying down the Magnificent Mile. Women stroll for lunch dates down by Nordstrom and pick up all of the latest in the Mecca for shopping this girl can’t afford. (Yet. But I will.)

I explored on my first lunch break and was just overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the city I live in. Seriously, Chicago is gorgeous. Especially in the fall, when everything gets washed in the gold glittery almost chilly sunlight. Waltzing about in the shadows cast by skyscrapers and seeing couples kiss ever so sweetly down by the River Walk, I felt just like the girl I always wanted to be when I was little. I mean, there I was, strolling the Magnificent Mile on my lunch break in my trench coat and high heels, living on dreams and a smidge of caffeine and red lipstick.

Just a little bit of that downtown Chicago perfection that made me fall in love with this city to begin with. And it has me all excited and ready to conquer this little corner of the world. So, go take a walk downtown and enjoy the fabulous weather this weekend, dear reader!

Thanks Ewok

Dear Ewok,

You came into my life at a crossroads. There were tears and down days where I couldn't even get out of my bed. But you were always there. A reminder not only of things I loved about my past but of two people that love me more than most in my present. I find, silly as it may be since I'm a grown up, that I have a little trouble sleeping if I can't locate you. All I'm saying is you have been a top-notch cuddly companion in all of your Ewok-y glory. Thanks for being the best birthday present ever.

Love,
me

Thanks Meghan

Dear Meghan,

Thanks for making work infinitely more bearable. Always. No matter what crazy-whirlwind-not-sure-if-I-can-fix-this kind of thing is happening. Also, thanks for the reminder that you miss 100% of the shots you don't take. So here I am, taking that shot :) Thanks for reminding me that I should. And for being generally wonderful and terrific and stuff.

Love,
me

Thanks Jason

Dear Jason,

Thanks for not moving away and disappearing from my life. Thanks for phone dates and text messages and emails and all of the things you do to keep in touch and remind me that a.) you still know everything and that b.) you are always right. I miss your face, but could not be prouder of every single little thing you are doing with your wonderful life in New York City.

Hugs and kisses,
me

Thanks Friends

Dear Friends,

Thanks for being so overwhelmingly supportive and excited for me about my internship at the Tribune. Thanks for flowers and champagne and dinner and cake and love and kisses and kind words and hugs and for being so proud of me that I want to burst with how much love and thankfulness I'm filled to the seams with. You make my life a better place to prance around in :)

Love,
me

Thanks Matt

Dear Matt,

Thanks for loving football as much as I do. And for making sure I don't starve. Especially, thanks for not letting Mollie and I get stolen by that guy on Clark Street (Why do guys on Clark Street feel like women are something to be stolen? Curious.) and then for helping us with our homework. Even if my notebook does smell like my gin now. Oops.

Love,
Ashley

Fearless

"And I don't know how it gets better than this; Take my hand and drag me headfirst, Fearless" -- T.Swift

I know that I have been known to be a smidge on the whiny side, a little self-deprecating, a little lost in my direction. But can I tell you that for the past week, I have felt more myself, more like I was headed somewhere rather than nowhere than I've felt in months.

I have been happy.

Like over the moon, heart racing at every new turn, playing the question game, taking a leap of faith, feeling like I'm the girl I kind of always wanted to be happy.

And I haven't been afraid.

No lingering thoughts of what she did or what he said or worrying whether the next move is the right one. Diving in, going for it, taking a chance. Starting things all over again. New and with cuter shoes.

I think things are most certainly looking up. For several reasons ;)

Things I Just can't Stop Thinking About

1.) Apple Cider Martinis. Seriously. It is tiiiiime.
2.) The whereabouts of my cognac faux leather motorcycle jacket.
3.) Your smile when it hits your eyes.
4.) How much I love my new job.
5.) When I'm going to finish all of my homework.
6.) Falllllll!!!
7.) My birthday :) Yay!
8.) Did i mention your smile?
9.) Fuzzy blankets and wrap sweaters.
10.) What to wear with my new gray boots.
11.) Who I'm going to cling to at Staff Night for Chronicles of the Cursed. Oy.

If Friends Were Flowers, I'd Pick You, as featured on the blog of Love, Lulu Mae

I seriously have the greatest friends in the world. Whenever I’m bummed about my job search or not being able to lose that last 5 pounds, I know exactly who I can call to make me feel all warm and fuzzy and sunny and happy all over again. I firmly believe in telling the people you love just how much you love them as often and in as many different ways as possible, and the same goes for when you are proud of people. People devote a great deal of time to doing this in childhood, but it seems to fade as people grow. There’s less whispered adoration between BFF’s, fewer dangly Friends Forever bracelets exchanged.

My friends are the kind of people that make me want to be a better person. They see me at my absolute worst and help me become my ultimate best. And although they are scattered all the way around the world right now, they are all pursuing their dreams all the way to the ends of the world, making something out nothing and becoming the people they had always hoped to be. And the thing about growing up is that you don't notice it happening until it has. And the people around you start getting married and having real jobs and doing everything in their power to make their dreams come true. And it's kind of beautiful how it sneaks up on you, whispers in your ear, enticing you to come forward, step out, be more, make those dreams happen.


Now, I'm not so sure how to make my dreams come true, but I know that there are people in my life, always so willing to help me figure it out, who know how to chase after the life they want with all the life they've been given. They light from inside and find bravery in the darkest corners of their hearts and stomp forward, with a smile, with a song, with a tiny pirouette. Who remind me that I am brave enough to figure it out too, who keep me balanced when everything spins just a little too fast. Their dreams are big, their goals are mighty, and yet, with every little piece of my heart, I know that there is magnificence brewing, magic waiting to be sprung, lives to be touched by your beautiful, beautiful hearts. And it makes me want to be better. And it makes me happy. So very very happy.


But sometimes growing up means that the people you love the most have to leave you for a while. But distance can't change what someone means to you, what someone has meant to you. Goodbye is not always forever, and farewells don't have to be sad. Sometimes an ending is really just a beginning backwards, a step to something new and exciting. With a kiss and a tilt of the hat between letters and phone calls at 3 AM and emails, there's never a shortage of ways to say what needs to be said. And as for the people I'm really talking about here, I couldn't be prouder to love you from afar, see what magic you will work and be gloriously reunited when the time is right :)


Someone who is most likely much wiser than I am once said, “To the world, you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world.” So, I challenge you, dear reader, to say thank you to someone who means the world to you today. Show them how much you love them. It will make your world (and the world at large) an infinitely better, brighter place.

Reasons I Am Useless Around Boys I Like

1.) Tongue-tied. That's me. I get soooo tongue-tied. I trip over my exceedingly large vocabulary, trying to sound impressive, but just flail. I try to make connections that don't sync up, stutter, and even start to return to the let-me-bake-you-a-peach-pie-sugar drawl that I worked so hard to get rid of in years and years of voice lessons.

2.) I won't lie about it, and I admit this in the hopes that you won't judge me too much, dear reader. My brain goes straight to what your name and my name would look like linked together and embossed on folded pieces of parchment paper and wrapped in vellum and ribbons. Some girls dream of sex, some girls think about holding hands. I am the product of my mother and grandmother who are convinced that I am, at 23 and 3/4, an old maid. So I think about wedding invitations. (I. Am. So. Crazy.)

3.) Spidey-sense. I get way too perceptive. I note twitches, twinges, the way the green in your eyes is catching the light when you look at me, the way your nose crinkles when you laugh. And then I get all cerebral in my analysis because I have spent years spouting out pretentious nonsense about everything I've had to process academically and so it runs into the rest of my life too. I should have been a chemist. I bet chemists don't try to create meaning out of everything even when it's not there the way English majors are trained to. This dilemma makes me seem space-y. Or weirdly academic in that not-endearing-rather-unrelatable way.

4.) CLUMSY. Tripping, falling, slipping, bumping, bruising, colliding foreheads when we kiss. I'm. A. Mess. And contrary to what Stephenie Meyer teaches us about Bella Swan who boys fawn over in spite of her serious clumsiness, outside of Forks, you just look a little unsteady.

5.) The clumsiness is not aided by the whizzbangflipflop triple backflip marathon that is inspired in my chest by someone I'm seriously in like with. I swear anyone who is in my immediate proximity has to be able to hear it too. And there's the prickles on my spine and the warm-cold-excited-nervous-giggle-up-down-everywhere-in-between-wonderful-fizzy-bubbles-sunshine-on-a-fall-afternoon feeling that is a little overwhelming in it's lovliness that walks the line between incredibly happy and epically melancholy. It makes it hard to focus.

6.) Like a 9-year-old, I am plagued by the giggles. This is worse when you are immensely funny. I will spend the whole day/night/rehearsal/job/photo shoot/dinner date/party giggling and not contributing anything clever to a conversation. Which I imagine is flattering to your vanity. But probably makes me seem remarkably vapid. And I'm actually not vapid at all. I'm just nervous. And you are too funny.

7.) Most of the time, I am not particularly shy or demure, but boys I like make me revert to 12-year-old Ashley who blushed furiously anytime Zach Wright told me hello in the hallway. I guess a rosy flush is nice though, right? Besides. With the glasses, it kind of makes a sexy librarian thing happen. Sometimes.

8.) Fidgeting. When I get nervous and I'm standing, I run through ballet positions. In order. With my feet. I mess with my skirt, play with my hair, nibble my bottom lip, adjust my shoe too many times. This makes me feel less pretty in the outfit that I spent ages picking out in the hopes that your attention might at some point be extremely focused on it. Fidgeting, like other forms of self-sabotage, makes me seem immensely less put together than I am at any other time in my life. And again, a little vapid. Which I have already stressed I am not.

So between the self sabotage and talking way too much about myself and being a total crazy, I promise that if you pause for a minute, get past the frenzy and chill with me, I'm totally endearing, kind of cute, smart, witty. I bake really good cupcakes and plan stunning weddings and write really well. Among other things. Which are positive attributes in a girl.

Like me? In spite of everything? I promise, I'm super great (and only a little crazy) :)

Reasons I Should Maybe Not Start Trying to Knit Again

Fall = scarves. Scarves = expensive. But you can knit scarves. And that makes them less expensive. And more pride-inspiring.

However, there are many reasons that there are flaws in this logic with regards to this girl right here.

1.) I have tried and tried and tried to be a good knitter, but I'm just not. I drop stitches, don't keep the tension even, lose track of what I'm doing. I end up with a scarf that at one end is 7 inches wide and at the other is 9 and half.

2.) I have learned no fewer than 8 times from a slew of different people (Caelynn's mom, Casey's mom, Vanessa, Casey, Kelli, etc) how to cast on. Yet, every time I think it's a good idea to start knitting again, I just never remember how to do it. And then I'm at square 1 all over again.

3.) I have infinite patience for a few things. Reading, writing, getting babies to eat their vegetables, deciphering what will make an infant stop crying, waiting for the phone to ring, piecing together patterns, having faith. You will note that knitting falls nowhere on this list.

4.) I have 17 Fall/Winter Scarves already. 17. Do I really need more that are going to be less put together looking than the ones I have? These are the questions...

5.) Do I have time for a project? 2 classes, 3+ jobs, homework, chores, etc. I suppose I could trade knitting in for my social life. But fishbowls of margaritas are certainly more exciting than knit knit perl perl knit.

In spite of these reasons, my knitting needles are out. My yarn is neatly balled in my fall tote, in the hopes that I am suddenly stricken with the memory of how to cast on. Or that I meet someone in passing that looks like they know how to do it.

Guess we'll see how this goes.

Thanks Random Girl on Cornelia

Dear Random Girl on Cornelia,

Thanks for stopping and taking a moment to affirm my solid belief in the power of a beautifully-written-from-the-heart thank you note when you overheard me discussing them as a dying art with Valerie on the phone.

Love,
me

Thanks Brittanyanne

Dear Brittanyanne,

Thanks for calming text messages about any major or minor crisis in my life. From boy drama to what to wear in any given situation, you are always ready with words of wisdom or adjectives to describe the look toward which I am striving. I love that. And how happy you make the bestie. Win. I'm glad that life has made our paths cross again :)

Love,
me

Thanks Mollie

Dear Mollie,

Thanks for being the easiest person to surprise in the world. And for being so excited when successfully surprised. You are adorable :)

Love,
me

PS~ I hope you liked the Mollie!!

Battling the Big Girl Job Blues, as featured on the blog of Love, Lulu Mae

What do you want to be when you grow up? Sometimes, I’m still not sure I actually know the answer to this question. In fact, most of the time my answer will be different than it would have been if you had asked me just a few minutes earlier. When I was little, my life goal was to be Miss America. Seriously. (Ok. Ok. Mostly it was just because it seemed like all Miss America really had to do was wave, wear pretty dresses and don a very sparkly tiara. But still.) Little me with lofty aspirations never thought I’d be twenty-something, struggling to pay my rent between my salaries from the several jobs I schedule around my class meetings for grad school. And not to be all, “Poor Poor Pitiful Me,” but this girl has had a rough year, full of parking tickets and homework and a heartbreak of the rather serious garden variety. And there is still no big girl job in sight. Yes, the search for the big girl job (which I have been wholeheartedly pursuing for quite some time now) has me a little blue, a teeny tiny bit down on myself. I’ll be honest. After applying to 437 jobs, getting interviewed and rejected and ignored, it’s hard to remember why it is that I’m any different than any of the other dime a dozen witty, highly educated brunettes with cute shoes that want to write for your magazine/schedule appointments for your office/address envelopes for your mailing/sell your expensive handbags, etc.

So, in light of this little bout of the blues and to celebrate the awesome interview I had this morning, today is dedicated to a few things that make me happy. And there will be a little less pouting, a little less heavy sighing; a lot more gin and tonic, a lot more red-lipstick smiles. I mean, life is tough. So what?

1.) The Ron Bennington Cupcake at Molly’s Cupcakes. Just look at it. Chocolate-y goodness filled with peanut buttery loving and topped with chocolate frosting. If this is not happiness come to life (and served on a tiny plate or sent home in an adorable box with a bow), then I’m not sure I know what happiness is anymore. Check out their menu and go visit their adorable little shop on Clark Street: http://www.mollyscupcakes.com/cupcakes.php

2.) The Kate Spade Kellis Pump. I found a pair of these at Nordstrom Rack; a total steal (Unfortunately not enough of a steal for me to actually make it home with them) and my heart whizzbangflipflopped in a way I have not felt in quite some time. Now, if I could just find a man that made me feel that way, I think I’d be set for life. But for real, these shoes are captivating. And they felt so pretty on my feet. My heart is still hurting from having to put the box back on the shelf and walk away.

3.) My “Conquer the World” Playlist, named as such because it can motivate me to do anything from cutting out pattern pieces for the dress I’ve been putting off making to finishing the last dreadful mile of a run even to diving into my homework for my Women and Shakespeare class. It contains the following: “Don’t Rain on My Parade” by Lea Michele, “Don’t Stop Believin’” by Journey, “Bad Romance” by Lady Gaga, “Dance Your Life Away” by Jon McLaughlin, “Fearless” by Taylor Swift, “Party in the USA” by Miley Cyrus, and “Dynamite” by Taio Cruz. These songs will make you smile and get you pumped up. Seriously. Download. Listen. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

4.) The Sangria at The Bar Celona. My friends and I hit up The Bar Celona at least once a week (usually on half-off night, which is Wednesday). A cute little place in Wrigleyville, their sangria is fruity and red and served by the pitcher. And trust me, a pitcher of sangria has the potential to get you into oh-so-much-good-clean-run-of-the-mill trouble. But mostly, at The Bar Celona, it just makes you want to dance dance dance. (And let’s face it, even if you are the worst dancer in the world, there is just nothing better than shaking it on the dance floor). You can see their other specials: http://www.barcelonachicago.com/.

5.) Football. Fall means football, which my mother raised me to put second only to God or diamonds. Which means beer at bars on Sundays and cheering on Peyton Manning with my roommate, Matt, until I’m hoarse. (Not to mention seeking the love of my life aka a tall, muscle-y, book-loving Colts fan with a real job and credit score of over 600 becomes significantly easier when they are en masse at Mullen’s on Clark on game day.)

Ah. I feel happier already.

(Check out the real post with pictures: http://lovelulumae.blogspot.com/2010/09/battling-big-girl-job-blues.html)

Happy Birthday, Mollie

Dear Mollie,

Happy Birthday. You are just the most wonderful person I know, kind and loving and genuinely concerned about the welfare of the people that surround you. You are smart and funny and know the fine line between proper princess and damsel in distress. I really admire how much you do, how much of yourself you give to others, how seriously you dedicate yourself to anything you do from the baking of smores brownies to news articles to readinf to writing your vampire novel (Which you will finish. And it will be so incredible. Just like you.) You cannot possibly know how much you mean to me, how much you made one of the hardest times I've ever been through bearable. I'm not sure where I'd be without your company, comfort food, pep talks, and general friendness. I hope that this birthday is just as magnificent as you are, fit for a princess, filled with love and wishes and only dreams that are sure to come true. Cheers :)

Love,
me

Birthday

It is Mollie's Birthday week!!!!!

And this is something to be very very very excited about :)

Thanks Taylor Swift

Dear Taylor,

Thanks for providing the music that I spend such an epic amount of time listening to :) I enjoy your teenage angst veiled by your sweet country crooning and deflected by the fact that I am frequently tutu'd when listening to you. And I know all the words to almost all of your songs. That's right. I said it. Hmmm..We wanted more of you at Country Night. So that should speak leaps and bounds about my feelings and the way you got me through some tough, tough times :)

Love,
me

Laughter

Between the giggles and titters and teehees, there's a jolly guffaw that is stuck in my head like my iPod's stuck on replay. Oy. There was this song in the Kooman and Dimond review that J directed in the FTL this summer; this gorgeous song called Lucy's Laugh. Youtube it. Seriously. I hope my laugh makes someone feel that way about me eventually. Granted, this is coming from the girl who yesterday told Mollie that she hoped she found a man who made her feel the way the red Satin Kate Spade pumps she was clutching to her breast did. Hapless. And hopeless. But hopeful. That's me.

Also, my horoscope told me to work on the project I've been putting off today (I did.) and to pursue the Leo I've been lusting after (Lusty Leo? Are you out there? Bueller. Bueller...) while my energy is so incredible. Hmmm...

Thanks Wednesday Nights

Dear Wednesday Nights,

Thanks for never ceasing to be a source of amusement and a debacle of debauchery and then just a little bit more.

Love,
me

Thanks Brian

Dear Brian,

Thanks for strolling in after class with that gorgeous red moleskine planner that I've been lusting after. A celebratory gift from you means so much more than simple praise from most places. But I think you know that already. (Now I just need to snag that sweet job at the Trib!)

Love,
me

Thanks Cathy

Dear Cathy,

For about a million reasons, I'm glad Mollie put me in touch to help you out with sitting last Winter. But more than your sharp tongue, immense intelligence, and wonderful mommy compassion, I love talking to you about life. And I love when you mention that there is less of me. (I certainly hope there is...) You are pretty rad. So are your kids :) (And that sister-in-law of your as well...)

Love,
me

Thanks David

Dear David,

Thanks for introducing me to several things, including (but certainly not limited to) Take Away Show videos on youtube, The Spitfire Grill musical and the Alexander and Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day musical. Which have vastly increased my happiness level and vastly decreased my productivity level with many hours spent watching youtube videos in all three categories (especially the Take Away Show ones. I'm obsessed with the Jason Mraz series). Thanks for eagerly anticipating smores brownies and for debates about what team I should be pro with regard to Twilight and for intelligent conversation regarding books and plays (also for NEVER turning down a challenge). I'm glad you moved in with Mollie and Brandon just down the street. The 551 posse is my fave.

Love,

me

Blogging

My blogging adventures have expanded. I am a weekly featured blogger for a fabulous company called Love, Lulu Mae. They make the most gorgeous bridal accesories, hair accesories, hats, boudoir apparel, etc. :) I am soooo excited for the opportunity. Below you'll find my first blog for them. I'll probably continue to share them as they happen weekly?

An Ode to My Beloved Fall (As featured on the blog of Love, Lulu Mae)

Ladies and gentlemen, it’s fall (Finally!). Say what you will about summer sun and spring fever and winter’s insatiable impulse for cuddling, but this girl finds every single year that fall is just the most romantic season out there. It makes me swoon over caramel apples and lightweight sweaters and thank my lucky stars for the permission to finally wear all of my terrific boots again. (And purple lipstick. Glamour keeps telling me that it’s all the rage this season in their beauty blog.)

And it never fails to make me want to fall in love. Over and over and over again. (To be fair, I do just love love so this should not be too shocking to anyone who has read me or spent 5 minutes with me.) But since I am not in love with anything other than apple cider martinis right now, I’m looking to outside sources for romantic inspiration. Like this, which I fell hard for when my very best friend sent it during a catch-up facebook date from the Arts Beat Blog in the NY Times:

http://artsbeat.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/09/09/fiddler-up-his-sleeve-lin-manuel-mirandas-wedding-surprise/

The groom, creator and star of Broadway’s In the Heights, orchestrated the whole thing, choreography and all as a gift to his new bride. And look at the look on the bride’s face the whole time. Maybe you aren’t into Fiddler. Maybe you cringe at the thought of your fiancé and dad teaming up for a song and dance, but you can’t deny when you see how happy they are, that there is serious romance in the air. It’s these little uniquities, these oddities where the truest romance of love lies: the giggles over private jokes, the sweeping gestures just for the girl of your dreams, remembering to buy coffee filters when you used the last one. Yes, the most romantic gestures have nothing to do with roses or candlelit dinners for two, but everything to do with the quirky, the unusual, even the weird. In weddings ( I plan weddings as one of my 5 current jobs), it even comes with the what-is-that-guy-doing-and-why-is-the-bride-spending-the-rest-of-her-life-with-him kind of bizarre. Unexpected, but beautiful. But love is love. And love, even when I’m not in it, never ceases to make my heart sigh and flutter with a little extra beat of happy (And hope?).

I think that’s why fall’s my favorite season. A little off-kilter, not quite the mainstream, but full of romance and second chances and that slight chill whispering on golden sunlight every afternoon. (And in Chicago, it brings along that one-sport-pepper-too-many-Chicago-Style devotion to our beloved Bears. That is a tragic, tragic romance allllllll on its own) I might not be dancing along the lakefront in the starlight with anyone this September, but I am certainly falling hard for my new cognac faux leather motorcycle jacket that I’m definitely not cool enough to be wearing, but so pridefully sport whenever it’s chilly enough on my bi-weekly Jewel trips. So, dear readers, I leave you to the question as fall starts to unfurl its colors and canned pumpkin starts to make its way back onto grocery store shelves and I bust out that plum lipstick in my efforts to get pretty and snag a mate that will make my mother proud: Where do you find strange romance in the season ahead? What are you falling in love with at this very second?

Fall

It is fall.

And so I find that I am

f
a
l
l
i
n
g

ever so

DEEEEEEPLY

in love with it.

(As I do every year about this time)

Some people get Spring Fever; it's all the rage. Some people swoon for summer. Not this girl. I love fall. It makes me all pumpkin pie and golden leaves and apple cider martinis as I float in breezes just chilly enough to grant permission for scarves and boots and light sweaters.

Fall. Is. Perfection.

Thanks Ian

Dear Ian (of Ian's Pizza fame),

I don't know you. I doubt I've ever crossed your path, but in this, the smallest of all cities, I've come to know anything is possible so I won't completely discount this possibility. But damn, you sure know how to make a mean pizza. Your mac and cheese pizza and smores pizza calmed all of the carb and cheese and chocolate cravings my rather unruly period threw at you. And that is QUITE a feat. Thanks for being open and welcoming when the men in my life decide they need sustenance in the middle of the night and thanks for that cute little punch card that fits neatly tucked in behind my id. You really really rock.

Love,
me

Thanks Frank

Dear Frank,

Thanks for dealing with us last night. And by us, I think you know I mean my just-turned-21-and-celebrating-almost-as-cute-as-he-thinks-he-is roommate. Thanks for listening to my boy drama and for being the perfect bitchy bartender as you poured my diet cokes and Matty's beers. I think we will definitely be visiting you again, sir.

Love,
me

Reasons I Love Football

1.) Mollie and I get to work on our super sweet blog: http://pigskinprincesses.wordpress.com

2.) Men in tight pants. Duh. Who doesn't love a tight end???

3.) The love. The coming together. The random high fiving of people you will probably never high five again.

4.) The pride, in winning and losing.

5.) Chicks dig men that are good with balls and teams and stuff.

6.) My satin Colts Cheer Jacket gets to come out of the closet.

7.) Day drinking.

8.) Bears fans are soooo intense and I love it.

9.) The odds of meeting a tall, muscle-y, book-loving Colts fan with a real job and a credit score of over 600 are vastly increased.

Thanks Matt

Dear Matt,

I'm glad we are roommates. I'm really glad you have finally actually moved in with us and are here for adventures and cleaning and singing, etc. Thanks for being neat as a pin. All the time. We needed that around here. Today, thanks for thinking about my period-riddled-feeling-like-my-uterus-is-trying-to-claw-its-way-out-with-a-butter-knife body while you were at the Swedish Bakery and for bringing me home that chocolate cake with the raspberry filling and the ganache. It was a heavenly way to arrive home from work, with the box and its bow and the gooey, chocolatey fruity goodness inside. My hormones greatly enjoyed your support of their volatility. And I greatly enjoyed every single bite.

Love,
me

Thanks Jason

Dear Jason,

Thanks for all of your tough love, even from halfway across the country, when I really need it.

Love,
me

Thanks Brian

Dear Brian,

Thanks for being cheery yesterday when my job interview turned out to be quite a debacle. Thanks for joining me on campus and for reminding me not to lose sight of my goals in the form of your catchy weight-lifting chants. I. Just. Love. You. But, after Wednesday night, I'm fairly certain you already knew that.

Love,
me

Thanks Justin

Dear Justin (whose name I am still not completely convinced was not Joseph),

Thanks for telling Shannon and I that we were pretty when we strolled into the bar where you were drinking. Then, for buying our entire 8-person-none-of-whom-you-even-remotely-knew-group two rounds of shots, greatly aiding our night of drinking, dancing, and debauchery. Thank you also for the twirl as we were leaving. It made feel a little bit like a princess. Which made the entire night, lovely on its own, even lovelier.

Love,
me

Munchkins

I am up early with 2 very grumpy little people.

Godspeed, Ashley. Godspeed.

Thanks Kira

Dear Kira,

Thanks for being ever so very cooperative on our marathon walk to Montrose Beach and the subsequent time we spent there. You were all fun fun fun and there was not a meltdown had. Which was glorious. Thank you also for your overwhelming concern about life's great questions, like how will the sun and moon be friends if they are never out together and who can marry who and what Bwandon's dad's name was. You are just such a great little munchkin and I'm glad that your Aunt Mollie and Mom let me play with you alllllll the time!!!

Love,

me

Thanks Steak and Shake

Dear Steak and Shake,

Thank you for always providing a place to escape in the middle of the night to wolf down comfort food, catch up, and run into people you usually don't care to see. Thanks for reinvigorating Mollie's and my delirium last night and supporting our adventurous spirits :)

Love,
me

Special

When we are little, people tell us all the time that we are special and different and that we can do anything and be anything. And as we grow up, these things are instilled in us repeatedly, with love and lessons and learning. And we are special. And we try. And we move forward, reaching toward our sometimes limitless dreams. We graduate high school and go to college and decide what we want to be when we grow up and graduate college. And then your real life can finally begin.

But there are bills and parking tickets and no jobs to be found anywhere close to your major. Forget health insurance and vegetables and gym memberships.

And sometimes along the way, after a few misguided mishaps, after sending out a billion resumes to no avail and interviewing for hundreds of people that never call, it all gets a little overwhelming.

At the risk of sounding melodramatic (and I'm not trying to be for once), I'm going to say it: I don't remember why I'm special anymore.

Dear 77th job I've applied to this month, I'm not actually sure why you should hire me. Love, Ashley

How am I different from the other 300 or so dime a dozen English majors that want to write for your magazine? How am I different from that other brunette with the cute shoes at the end of the bar in whatever bar I've ducked into while traipsing aroud Wrigleyville? What is it about me that makes me sparkle? And I find that I'm in this weird place where I just can't remember anymore.

And it's not that I'm depressed. I'm rather enjoying my life, my friends, my new apartment. I have great shoes, great dresses, great books. A fiery passion I rediscovered for certain kinds of literature after a happenstance discussion that probably mattered little to the other half of it. But there is statis. I'm miserable at Sweet and Sassy right now. If another person screams at me because I can't book their birthday party for tomorrow or corners me because their child has lice, I'm going to explode. I want to write. I want to plan. I want a challenge.

If I could find a challenge to overcome, perhaps it would ignite some spark. Some inkling of something special, some key to the hundred or so dreams I have floating around in my head and which ones I should actually be focusing on.

Because I know, even if I can't remember why or put my finger on what it is that's different yet, I am special and I'm going to be great. At something. (Other than changing diapers and giving glitter stars). Yes. Yes I am.

Things You Can't Be Unhappy While Doing

1.) Drinking through a bendy straw
2.) Baking Cupcakes
3.) Mixing Cookie Batter
4.) Sipping Ginger Ale (Especially in conjunction with #1).
5.) Listening to the song "Omigod You Guys"
6.) Dancing
7.) Wearing Galoshes
8.) Shoe Shopping
9.) Snuggling a sleepy infant
10.) Singing loudly in the shower
11.) Eating goldfish while having a heart to heart with a kindergartener
12.) Sharing an umbrella
13.) Having the required post-mortem on ridiculous evenings
14.) Twirling
15.) Walking into a theatre (Even if the show is a downer, the thrill of walking in and getting situated and anticipating is really lovely)
16.) Sipping champagne. Especially when it's pink.
17.) Strolling down Michigan Ave during any quintessentially seasonal day (a sunny day in summer, a slightly chilly, golden day in fall, a snowy day in the winter, a rainy day in spring)
18.) Reading love poems
19.) Being a part of a group hug
20.) Eating ice cream
21.) Eating popcicles
22.) Reading your favorite book for the 107th time
23.) Greeting someone you are excited to see when he or she arrives somewhere
24.) Erasing dry erase marker
25.) Watching fireworks

Thanks Iris

Dear Iris,

Thanks for lunches and dinners and thank yous and all of the loving that only a mom can give you. Hanging out with you this week made me miss Jason a teeny tiny bit less and we hit up allll of my favorite places in the city. I'm really sorry that I almost made you miss your flight by driving us to the wrong side of the city, but I'm glad that by some miracle of god, we made it to the correct airport in the nick of time! Your love has made your children some of the lovliest people I've ever known and for them, I will be eternally grateful :)

Until next time,
me

Thanks Tessa

Dear Tessa,

Thanks for, in spite of the 97 meltdowns Kira was having on Monday, for remaining sunny and happy and always ready to try anything. You are really a joy to snuggle with and I enjoy our heart to hearts (even if you do respond to everything I say with "Cat."). I also really like that you applaud me whenever I come to take you out of your crib post-nap. I'm excited to wear my tutu and give you your tutu on Saturday for your birthday party :)

Love,
me

Sunrise

It is early.

So, I saw the sun rising over Lake Michigan this morning. A breeze ruffled my extraordinarily disheveled hair through my car window, a perfect chill to complement the pinks and purples across the sky and the gold flitting across the slight waves on the water.

Gorgeous.

Now, back to bed.

Thanks Brandon

Dear Brandon,

Thanks for always having my back and preventing me from doing really stupid stuff all the time. Like seriously, you save my life time after time after lousy decision making time. And keep booze flowing freely. For real though, you're a win in the friend category and I'm glad I get to share drunken stumbles and aforementioned poor decisions with you. (Sidenote: I really dig your girlfriend too.)

Love,
me

Hmm..

I promise I like you when I'm sober too.

Thanks Cory

Dear Cory,

Your email about the sheep made me weep. Profusely. It was so beautiful; the story, your words, your wishes for me. It made me miss you so much that for a second I could not catch my breath. It was not a pretty cry. My macara ran, my nose ran, the tears soaked my pajamas. But then I did just what you said. I wrapped myself in my warmest blanket and I remembered good times, like the talk we had when I was weeping on the floor on taco night when Ness and I fought and when we held hands on the way to see An Education, and when we shared Jeff's umbrella passing out fliers in the rain. And it worked. I wasn't so sad anymore. I swear I could feel your love allllll the way around the world. Maybe it was the sheep, maybe it's just you.

I love you and miss you immensely.

Hugs and kisses forever,
me

Thanks Shannon

Dear Shannon,

Thanks for the hours of amusement and amazement brought by all of the complimentary tickets you manage to snag to the best shows in the city. Thanks also for that heart to heart in the kitchen (when we looked like we were going to make out) about the thing (that was most assuredly not the thing that everyone thought we were having a heart to heart about). Thanks for the analysis of the flippy floppy feeling I've been feeling and reminding that it's ok to feel flippy floppy sometimes. About some things. Like that thing. That we talked about.

Love,

me

Things I Really Enjoy Talking About

In my 23 3/4 years of living, I have spent a lot of time being criticized for being shy. I am shy. Very very shy. And a little withdrawn. And socially awkward in what is sometimes an adorably endearing way. But, I guarantee that when you hit any of the following topics, my shell will immediately fall away and I will not draw breath (until London. That was for you if you are reading this, mom)...

1.) Poetry. (Especially Cummings, Eliot, Baudelaire, Frost, and Collins. I have a lot of feelings about these poets. Especially after the Franzia kicks in...)

2.) Musicals. I am in love with musicals. It is a serious and torrid affair, and if you know anything at all about musicals, I will listen and try to absorb all of your knowledge like a sponge. (And probably get a little starry-eyed as well.)

3.) Fall. I'm obsessed with the leaves changing colors and the way the air on fall mornings adopts that vague chill, a crisp breeze that ruffles the dry leaves on the street or stirs around the puddles. It always always always reminds me of walking down the street to the busstop in Beavercreek, OH, blowing my mom a kiss from the corner. I love fall colors, fall fashion, with its boots, sweaters, and light scarves. Then there's apple cider...You get the point. (My birthday is also a key factor in this love.)

4.) Love. I love love. I love romantic love and platonic love and love for your neighbor and love for your dog and love for the chocolate bar you venture to 7-11 in the middle of the night to acquire. Love makes the world go round and if you have a story about love, looking for love, finding love, losing love, I will be rapt. And yes, in case you were wondering, I do truly believe that All You Need Is Love.

5.) Educational Psychology. I have most of a teaching degree and I really enjoyed my psychology classes. Ask me about the way a kid's brain develops and I'll be able to tell you much about the way our educational system excels and hiccups. (I'm also a great lesson planner.)

6.) Books. Duh. I read anything that is stationary, so I feel like this is a given. I'll fall in love over and over again over a good cup of coffee and an intelligent conversation about the book I just read.

7.) Places I Want to Visit. I am constantly battling my wanderlust and consequently have about a million trips planned out in my head that maybe I'll take someday. I'll talk your ears off about any of them. Or all of them.

8.) The things my faraway friends are doing. I am a proud mama hen about my friends who have scattered throughout the world and I'm a threat to brag about them and how great they are to anyone trying to get to know me. It's just because they make me so proud in their bravery and pursuit of their dreams.

9.) Fashion. What are you wearing? What am I wearing? Do those shoes really complement that hem length? Eyes or lips? The green dress with the straps or the black one with the bow? If you've seen my filled-to-the-point-of-bursting closet, you know.

10.) Chicago History. I read a lot of books to prepare to move to this city so I'm fulllll of useless information about where there used to be brothels and what survived the fire and when this and that appeared in the skyline...I am also useful as a tour guide or reference material when seeking something new and exciting to do.

Thankful

I try to thank people for the very specific random acts of kindness that they provide me in my life in my blog, but I can't help but notice the handful of people that I find I want to thank all the time (Who make me feel like I look in that picture). The people who call to check up on me and text me to say goodnight and tell me I'm pretty when I need to hear it and always play me songs they think I'll like to hear or give me books I'll like to read. And for that, I'm, well, thankful. I am the luckiest.

Thanks Deena

Dear Deena,

Thanks for understanding about the need to sit and be a little lazier than usual on Tuesday. It really did help with the feeling that my uterus was trying to pry its way out of my body with a machete and a dull razor blade. Now, if I could just procure some really good dark chocolate...

Love,
me

Thanks Colin

Dear Colin,

Thanks for being excited to see me yesterday, even though

a.) I'm not your nanny.

and

b.) I make you repeat things endlessly.

You are just such a great kid and I'm glad that Belle has friends like you to hang out with (Although it would be better if you both kept your clothes on while you play Doctor in the future...).

Love,
me

Wandering

I find that this morning my mind is wandering off somewhere unexpected...

And that the inner monologue is just as surprised as the outer.

Hmmm?

Edgy

I have been a little edgy lately.

I have seen people I don't care to see. I have been rejected rejected rejected for jobs, internships, etc. And I have been working non-stop with a hellacious sinus headache that just won't quit. (I know, I know. Like Jason never fails to remind me, whining will NOT make anything better.)

So...

Last night, I happened upon my apartment, empty. Free of roommates, free of friends, free of animals we are harboring temporarily.

This NEVER happens. (Which is fine by me. I'm just not into spending time alone a lot.)

I quickly gathered a few things, lit some candles, and drew a bubble bath (I had to use shower gel as bubbles, but the improvisation worked). I sang showtunes with my iPod at the top of my lungs, read a new vampire novel (Nice Girls Don't Have Fangs. Read it.) and giggled, and just focused on the more-serene-than-you-can-posssibly-imagine feeling of being enveloped in warm water. (I also played with the bubbles. Old habits die hard.) I closed my eyes and listened to notes wafting somewhere outside of my head; my mind cleared. The edginess dissipated.

I laid there for a good hour and a half; reading, singing, dozing, all wrapped up in my own bubbly semi-conscious world. And it was really, really lovely.

Thanks Tom Petty

Dear Tom Petty,

Thanks for being so right. The waiting IS the hardest part. Also, Mary Jane's Last Dance is definitely in my top ten songs I like to blast while driving alone. You rock!

Love,
Ashley

Rainy Days and Mondays

I have been incredibly melancholy for the past few days.

So, this morning, I am curled up on the couch with a HUGE fluffy blanket, sipping tea, and listening to the sound the raindrops are making as they clatter against my living room window. I get the grayness. I feel the damp, cold puddles. Yet, it's time to get up, to go on with the day, stop indulging the gray.

Perhaps today will bring something wonderful :)

Lessons I've Learned on My Vacation

1.) Manners never take a vacation. (Thanks, Mom.)

2.) Meeting the people that the people you love love is always a worthwhile pursuit.

3.) There are wonderful people waiting to be met EVERYWHERE.

4.) Sometimes, a little magic really is all you need.

5.) It really does just take faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie dust.

6.) All time off should be spent with people you love and yourself.

7.) What makes you happy when you are 5 can still make you happy when you are 23.

8.) I love being able to see my friends succeed in their own lives. I think that is a really beautiful thing about being a grown up.

9.) It really blows to get vomited on while on an airpla

10.) Sometimes it is nice to take some alone time. Like reading at the pool. Or flying across the country. Or shopping for a bottle of wine.

11.) I neeeeeeeeeeed change. I am not so broken anymore. It is time. Much reflection has brought me to that knowledge. Now, how to make it happen?

12.) I love to bake. I love when other people like things I bake :)

13.) Getting away is good for your soul.

14.) Going home is good for your heart.

15.) Disney World truly is the most magical place in the world.

16.) Love comes in all shapes and sizes and forms. And it's the kinds that we tend to overlook when we are caught up in the quest for romantic love that make us better people and help us be whole even when we are worried that we never will be better or whole again.