Wednesday, April 26, 2006

An L.A Face With an Oakland Booty

Sometimes you just have to let go.

It can be hard at most times. Especially after forming such a long, and what you hoped would be an everlasting relationship. They are there for you whenever you're in a pinch, they're there (Oooh I love when I can homonyms right after one another) when you need that oh-so comforting feeling. They are there.

Then one day, GASP! There is a hole. In your absolutely most favorite pair of jeans. World crumbles. Now I know there are people with worse problems in the world than that. I know. But when you form a bond with Said pair of pants, one tends to trickle a tear of sentiment. I have enough trouble as it is finding a pair of pants I can fall in love with, and now this happens. Well, it happened a while ago I suppose. I have just been indenial. Always with me, the hole begins in the buttocks and/or crotchal area. Why? Who knows. You can think of comical sexual reasons why this may happen. I don't mind.

So I neglected the hole as it was still fairly unseeable by the regular passerby. But eventually it was too much to bare. So I patched the hole up with another piece of denim and purple embroidery thread. Just like new. But now my sweet blue jeans have began to tear right up the crack seam! Gosh-diddly-dang-it! I am still wearing them to this day, but have been told on many occasions, that maybe it is time to put them to rest. Maybe I should, but maybe I will never find a pair of jeans that will give me the same kind of satisfaction as these beautiful blues have. Maybe I'm just being silly.

As for now, I will continue to be indenial about the death of my jeans and wear them whenever I like.

Thursday, April 20, 2006

I Don't Go to Sleep to Dream

Just worked the graveyard shift. 10pm to 6am. Holy. Fuck. I do not like them. Hopefully never again I will encounter it again. See!? That sentence didn't even make grammatical sense, or maybe even psychological sense. But I understand it, and will not backspace. This staying up the whole night thing sure doesn't feel like it used to when you'd stay up till 6am at your friend's sleepover birthday party. Not even close. Not even close to those mornings when you're still drunk at 6am and just arriving home. At least you can pass out. Right now I am spry and hungry and anxious. Due to my inability to sleep during the day, I have not yet rested or neared anything close to REM brainwaves. Knowing that I would want to crash in mid-morning, I popped two, yeah that's right, TWO caffeine pills before work. Smart one Ash, the girl whose heart beats like a Ben Harper jambay solo at the sight of caffeine. Shiza. However, I can feel me coming down from them. Eyes glazing, getting heavy, the shakes are fading...

Good night sun.

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Things I've Done Today. So Far.

-Watched the original Spiderman cartoon at 7:30am. Felt like back in the day watching before- school cartoonage.
-Made a sweet-ass breakfast yo. Bacon, egg, sausage bagel.
-Learned to play Tonight, Tonight by Smashing Pumpkins on the geetar. Dedicated to you, Tasha.
-Started to make up lyrics to a Jack Johnson style song that Ian created. The song is about Jack Johnson. Ha.
-Set off a firework in the backyard with my bro at 10am.
-Cleaned up the junk that had occupied my empty room at my parents, preparing for the arrival of me. Again. Temporarily.
-Changed the color of my bloggity blog blog.
-And it's not even Noon.
-I like mornings.
-And I like you.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

You Can't Tell a Hero By His Size

I have been looking for this guy forever. E-V-A. I could not remember his name, or what he really looked like, only that he lived in a cup. Man, Sesame Street had the greatest skits. So much imagination, so many things that you would think didn't make sense, but they did. Just think of how many you can remember. I would love to have all the old Sesame's to watch again. And keep forever. Got any favorites you can remember?




Also, click HERE for a link of a full episode. Complete with a moral of the story.

Thursday, April 06, 2006

They Call Me Mister Fahrenheit

I almost passed out yesterday. I went pale from head to toe, everything started to go black and fuzzy. Dizzy. So I walked out. Zig zagged through a few people who were still able to continue on with the exercises and went and sat on the toilet.

I went to a new fitness class called Largo Fitness. Robyn and Lisa both go to this regularly. They warned me it was a beast of a class. The instructor is this Phillipino kick boxer named Manny. He is very nice and asked me what kind of workout I normally do. I said, "my own workout." He laughed. Oh Manny. So I'm all pumped for this new exciting workout. Energy's flowing, adrenalin's pumping, there's about 30-some people in the room. There is no stopping or breaks either. And you're not advised to drink water during the workout or eat within 3 hours before. Sheesh. 40 minutes in, the paleness comes, then the fuzz. Then I leave.

Feeling somewhat embarassed, and slightly disappointed that I could not go on, an older lady followed me into the bathroom. "I saw you in the mirror and you went white as a ghost, so I came to check on you," she says. I instantly felt comforted and not so silly. She gave me a wet paper towel and told me only to wet my lips...not drink. When some color came back, I went out and tried again. Yep, couldn't do it. The blackness came back so I left again. By this point though the class was almost over and they were now doing suicides across the floor. More people started to filter out as they had exhausted themselves as well. I chatted with others about the insanity of the workout and nearly everyone had the same experience the first time. Now they're all hard core at it.

Anywho, it was fun and Manny is a hoot. He makes you count out loud as you're doing things, and I thought he was yelling "COW" at me, but it turned out to be "COUNT." Those accents get ya every time. He makes you feel welcome and gives you lots of advice. Like how to get rid of plain legs, eh Robyn? The people who go are very friendly and supportive. So if you want a good challenging workout, give it a try. It's in Stratford, right behind the Funeral Home. So you only have a short ways to go if it kills ya! I'll be back, and hopefully will make it through the whole thing next time.