yourfavoriteashley's Xanga

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Wed, 23 Jan 2008 20:52:41 GMT

Remember Xanga?

nope.

Monday, August 27, 2007

Mon, 27 Aug 2007 15:56:47 GMT

forgot that school started today.

Totally thought school started tomorrow.
WRONG.

oh well. I got up at the crack of dawn this morning and my first class is a 30 minute walk from my apartment.
Too bad it seems like an awesome class because I have a feeling I may be skipping it frequently. I guessed within the first 20 minutes of class that the prof was irish and I found out at the end that I was right. And we spent the whole time talking about the war... instead of the fucking syllabus like all the other boring assholes. And about how professors can't actually teach you facts because all they can do is argue and arguments are inherently bias. On second thought. I think I will be going to that class. It's worth the walk.

I can't seem to escape the art building however... my history class is in there. And unfortunately it seems like it's going to be boring as HELL. oh well. Attendance isn't mandatory for that one. So I won't be going save for tests.

And now I am soooo hungry but my bank account is at negative 200 something dollars and my credit card is maxed out. And my apartment is far. I might walk over there anyway. Or just wait till fucking 3 to eat. Next time I am bringing peanut butter and jelly.
GOOD JOB TO ME for finding an apartment on the opposite side of campus from where all my classes are. At least the classes themselves are in the same general area.
I tried to ride my bike to class this morning with my laptop and books in my book bag, and I totally ditched it and tied it to a water meter at the apartments down the street.

BOO the free internet at my apartment stopped working so I guess we're going to have to pay. It's not too bad only 14.99 a month. and we can split it. Once my loan comes in because.. uhh... I'm a broke ass nigga right now. Campus internet will have to suffice.

AND there's more books I need to buy but I checked the library and they have the ones I need. so... perhaps I will be spending some time there this semester. seeing as I am broke and all.

Being at the apartment is really fun. Our first night there we had a party. I forgot to invite anyone but Jose's friends were pretty cool. and some of them I knew from highschool. Drinking cheap mexican beer and debating about the current political climate. Meeting my neighbors. The guy above us must be a music major. He's playing trumpet like ALL the time. He's a nice guy though. And the chick next door has this AWESOME dog. It's like a boxer mix or something. he's beautiful. and then the people like... across from us kinda are these loud black guys. haha. oh wellz.
AND my room is badass, my window faces this lady's huge yard who has this really cool dog.

This squirrel is eyeballing me. it's creeping me the fuck out. it's less than a foot away from me.
Should I kick it?

the end.

Monday, August 13, 2007

Mon, 13 Aug 2007 00:39:17 GMT

Sometimes when you don't sleep enough, and then sleep all day for a day, your head gets a little achy.

I really have little to say about life as of lately.
Or maybe I'm not as inspired to write because I haven't been reading enough.
Things are fine, I still get sad occasionally and it's a sadness I wish I didn't have, but with life comes burdens I suppose.

So instead, I will just share a few of my inspirations lately.
1. Sea Change is indeed my favorite Beck album. ("Lonesome Tears" is my favorite track)

2. Dead Man with Johnny Depp (and sountrack by Neil Young) is a very interesting and artistically inspiring movie.

3. The Tent by Margaret Atwood is a book I just finished. It's a collection of short stories/essays/poetry.
Truly wonderful writing... here's one of my favorite's from the book:

The Animals Reject Their Names and Things Return to Their Origins
by Margaret Atwood

I.

It was the bear who began it. Said,
I'm getting out from under.
I am not Bear, l'Ours, Ursus, Bar
or any other syllables
you've pinned on me.
Forget the chateau tapestries
in which I'm led in embroidered chains.
and the scarlet glories of the hunt
that was only glorious for you,
you with your clubs and bludgeons.

Forget the fairy tales, in which I was
your shaggy puppet, prince in hairshirt, surrogate
for human demons.
I'm not your coat, rug, glass-eyed trophy head,
plush bedtime toy, and that's not me
in outer space with my spangled cub.
I'm not your totem; I refuse
to dance in your circuses; you cannot carve
my soul in stone.

I renounce metaphor: I am not
child-stealer, shape-changer,
old garbage-eater, and you can stuff
simile also: unpeeled,
I am not like a man.

I take back what you have stolen
and in your languages I announce
I am now nameless.
My true name is a growl.

(Come to think of it I am not
a British headdress either:
I do not signify bravery.
I want to go back to eating salmon
without all this military responsibility.)

I follow suit, said the lion.
vacating his coats of arms
and movie logos; and the eagle said,
Get me off this flag.

II.

At this dictionaries began to untwist,
and time stalled and reversed;
the sweaters wound back into their balls of wool,
which rolled bleating out into the meadows
the perfumes returned to France
and old men there fell sweetly dead
form a surfeit of aroma.
Priests gave their dresses up again
to the women, and the women
ditched their alligator shoes in a hurry
before their former owners turned up to claim them.

The violins of the East Coast shores
took flight from the fingers of their players,
sucking in waltzes, laments, and reels
landed in Scotland, fell apart
with wailing into their own wood and sinew
and vanished into the trees
and int the guts and howls of long-dead cats
and the tails of knackered horses.
Songs crammed themselves back down
the throats of their singers
and a billion computers blew apart
and homed in chip by chip
on the brains of the inventors.

Squashed mice were shot backwards out of traps,
brides and grooms uncoupled like shunting trains,
tins of sardines exploded, releasing their wiggling shoals;
dinosaur bones whizzed like missiles
out of museums back to the badlands,
and bullets flew sizzling into their guns.
Glass beads popped off gowns and moccasins
and fell on Italy in a hail of dangerous colour,
as white people dissappeared over the Atlantic
in a whoosh of pollution, vainly clutching
their power tools, car keys, and lawn mowers
which drove like metal fish back into the mines;
black people too, recapturing syncopation;
all flowers were suctioned budwise into their stems.
The Native peoples made speedy clearance work
of cowboys and longhorns, but then took off
westard instead, changing goodbye
to ancestral plains, which were reclaimed
by shaggy mastadons and the precursors of horses
and everywhere
the children shrank and began to
drop teeth and grow hair.

III.

Well, there were suddenly a lot more flamingos
before they in their turn became eggs,
while people's bodies reverted through their own
flesh genealogies like stepping stones,
man woman man, container into contained,
shedding language and gathering themselves in,
skein after skein of protoplasm

until there was only one of them
alone at the first naming;
but the streetwise animals, forewarned
and having learned the diverse meanings
of the word dominion,
did not show up,
and Adam, inarticulate, deprived
of his arsenal of proper nouns,
returned to mud

and mud itself became lava
and lava the uncooled earth
and the uncooled earth a swirl of white-hot
energy, and the energy jammed itself
into it's own potential, and swirled
like florescent bathwater
down a non-existent wormhole.

IV.

I could end this with a moral,
as if this were a fable about animals,
though no fables are really about animals.

I could say: Don't offend the bear,
don't tell bad jokes about him,
have compassion on his bear heart;
I could say, Think twice
before you speak.
I could say, Don't take the name
of anything in vain.

But it's too late for that,
because you can't read this,
because you can't remember the word for read,
because you're dizzy with aphasia,

because the page darkens and ripples
because it is liquid and unbroken,

because God has bitten his own tongue
and the first bright word of creation
hovers in the formless void
unspoken

Monday, July 30, 2007

Mon, 30 Jul 2007 15:45:38 GMT

the things that give me pleasure these days do not come from me. you know? they are coming from external sources.

without external sources we are nothing, lass

yeah I suppose.

our bodies are more designed for input

I think its like a web. The input and output... it isn't productive to send your output in the same direction as your input because then it wouldn't be a web, it would be a line.

i can see that. And your output is input to others to its perpetual.

right. exactly.

we're nothing with out others yet we're so alone.
Our thoughts are only ours

such a huge irony.

indeed. and the life of an artist
gah
such a lonley one.

Sunday, July 29, 2007

Sun, 29 Jul 2007 19:04:42 GMT

If only there was someone out there to understand this.

Because I sure don't. And neither do you... but what can you do?

Just gotta keep my chin up. Let everything else do what it does. Stop trying so hard to understand, or resolve. Find my center, my core, my self, and just let it be.

Saturday, July 14, 2007

Sat, 14 Jul 2007 18:58:30 GMT

Show me a torn carcass lying in a barren, waterless desert with only scavengers in sight.
and I can relate.
Show me a stampede of elk through the wet, green forest growth with the beauty and grace of life surrounding them.
and I can relate.
But show me a thousand year old tree in all of it's peace, all it's solitude, all it's splendid glory,
and I know nothing again.
Immovable.
So strong, not brittle, or easily changeable at all.
I am lost in it's presence.

I can break. I can bloom. I have died and I have lived. But I have never been able to relate to the trees.

Sometimes I get the feeling I was not meant to.

But to be inspired by such an ideal is enough.

I must remember myself.
I must keep myself in mind.
I must be strong.

I think tonight... tonight I will pray to the trees.

Friday, July 13, 2007

Fri, 13 Jul 2007 17:56:48 GMT

My friends rock.
Drunken tetris rocks.
Drunken darts rock.
Beth and Michael rock.
Taco the duck sucks because he wouldn't let me pet him.
I rock.
But hangovers suck. This is the worst one I've had in a while. I threw up like 4 times. Ew.

But I think I'm okay now. Chillin' with Jose and Miranda today. I'm kinda pumped I haven't seen either of them in a while.

Um. I can't believe Scott is in Ireland??! WTF? Not fair.

I don't know why I feel the need to blog. I really have nothing terribly interesting to say. Besides to write about my mundane days. haha.

Things are going good with Ben. :) I am happeh.

Work is 'aight. As good as work can be. I like pretty much everyone I work with. Hollywood Video is a cult though. I need to keep it in my head that I'm not staying there forever.

I am starting to get overly excited about moving. Completely new life of my own = yay.

Have I mentioned I have the coolest friends ever?
Well I do.

The end.

EDIT: holy shit I just now noticed it's friday the 13th! EEk!

Saturday, July 07, 2007

Sat, 07 Jul 2007 20:07:43 GMT

Dear Uterus,

You are good for some things, I understand. But right now... I hate you more than I have ever hated anything. So... get well soon because you are hurting me, I want to vomit, I have a headache, and I am getting hot and cold flashes out of nowhere.

Thanks,

Ash.

PS- reading things I wrote almost 2 years ago really makes me feel weird
http://www.xanga.com/yourfavoriteashley/392725907/item.html

Sunday, July 01, 2007

Sun, 01 Jul 2007 17:26:30 GMT

Last night was a trip.

Shitty comedians made funny by hilarious friends.
Random boy hitting on me action.
Trying to rescue kittens from the Chinese marketplace trash area.
Pool hall antics.
Stories about said boy being associated with assholeish people.
Ditching said boy.
Realizing that friends are A LOT more fun than boys.
Car windows (not mine, thank god) getting busted by someone who didn't even bother to steal stuff.
Duct tape soccer, and plastic wrap madness.
Eating breakfast at waffle house even though you've been up all night.
Realizing that I just made a whole bunch of new friends.
Getting walked in on in the waffle house bathroom by a drunk GUY in the ladies room.
Flying penis person tattooed on my shoulder with a bic pen.

Sneaking back into my parent's house at 6am in the daylight.

Sweet.
Now I have work in a few hours and I need to take a nap.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Thu, 28 Jun 2007 19:31:11 GMT

Zen needs to be restored in my life.

Every day is stressful and full of ups and downs. I wish there was an ocean here, if there was I would just sit at the shore at night time and listen to the earth breathing (that's what I always imagined the sound of waves hitting the beach to be). I need to find something... something to relax me.

So far the song Alone in Kyoto by Air is doing a fine job. But four minutes and forty-nine seconds of Zen just isn't enough.

The idea of God in the form of a being doesn't appeal to me right now in life, because I don't want to <i>need</i> anyone or anything. However, the idea of God in the form of a theory, or a force, makes me feel somewhat more connected to my spiritual side. Perhaps that is what I need. Re-awakening. Not necessarily in the form of religion because I have long been against the idea of religion. But just a discovery of my own self, the force within me that drives me, inspires me, muses me. I've always been attracted to people's beliefs in deities because of how beautiful the whole practice is.
I guess what I am trying to say
is that I am trying to find Beauty.
Beauty is my god.

The life I thought I had was beautiful, and I loved it deeply. The good far outweighed the bad and everything felt right and was working for me. But it has been taken away, parts of it have anyway. I must now accept that I cannot control my circumstances. For the longest time I felt as if I could go back and change things... but this just isn't possible. The only direction I can move is forward.
I have had time to mourn what was, and perhaps I still will from time to time.
But I will not allow what has happened to me to take the beauty away.
There is still beauty and I will not close my eyes to it.