tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19434246578855972682024-03-18T23:55:11.445-04:00lesbifriends.blogspotashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.comBlogger261125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-70146882689983077332012-01-02T16:23:00.004-05:002012-01-02T22:32:50.020-05:00what a difference a year makes<p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Georgia; "><b>what a difference a year makes…</b></p><p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Georgia; "><i>2011: in review </i></p><p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Georgia; "><i><br /></i></p><p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Georgia; "><i><object height="81" width="100%"> <param name="movie" value="https://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F32256160"> <param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"> <embed allowscriptaccess="always" height="81" src="https://player.soundcloud.com/player.swf?url=http%3A%2F%2Fapi.soundcloud.com%2Ftracks%2F32256160" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="100%"></embed> </object> <span><a href="http://soundcloud.com/lesbifriends/lesbifriends-what-a-difference">LESBIFRIENDS; what a difference a year makes</a> by <a href="http://soundcloud.com/lesbifriends">lesbifriends</a></span> </i></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia">around this time last year, i was beginning to feel a bit burnt out. i couldn't keep up with the pace of things; missed calls, unanswered emails, drafts upon drafts of incomplete text messages. my little castle on a cloud was getting mighty cramped. </p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia">i couldn't focus. </p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia">i couldn't remember my dreams at night. </p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia">i couldn't sleep at all. but it was alright- i knew in my gut something was changing. i knew that while things seemed pretty bleak, a new horizon was getting ready to emerge. </p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia">"quit your job? what do you even want to do? you can't just throw it all away because you <i>can't explain your feelings</i>…that's crazy-talk"</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia">as the seasons changed from winter to spring, the rhythmic hum of my life turned shrill. i could no longer ignore what had been bubbling within me. i knew that if i didn't act on those urges- and fast, then i never would. i could see my life play out as a sad, pathetic, washed up version of all my dreams. i could see myself as an old man recalling the past in hopes of drowning out the now. i could see myself in every person who told me what i was doing was wrong- that dreams have a shelf life and we all have to grow up sometime.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia">my last day on the air was friday the 13th- an ominous day, but in an optimistic way. when i quit my job, there were a lot of people who didn't really <i>get</i> why i was doing it. shockingly enough, i was one of those people. i didn't leave with another job lined up- i didn't have a normal list of benchmarks to determine my success…i was more or less just wingin' it. </p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia">once out of the 9a-5p world (or 7p-3a world…i lived in many different ones) i told myself to simply, follow my passions. "i want to do stand-up but i can't stop making crafts. i want to make more videos but can't stop taking nature photos." my mind was in a constant state of frenzy; constantly swirling with questions, answers, and new projects. i had been used to a world where i was completely saturated in my job. since i left school, i was my job. i was always at work or thinking about it. transforming from a person to a job title isn't hard living in/around the nation's capital- people are constantly talking about what they do like it defines them. </p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia">around the end of the summer i was all but convinced i was beginning to go insane. i was beginning to run out of the money i'd set aside to survive sans job and more pressingly- i no longer WAS my job…i was simply myself- but who the fuck was that? oh hello mid-life crisis…what appropriate timing you have. this 24 year old, quirky young lady was in need of having her cage rattled! thanks for swooping on down and bopping her on the head. </p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia"> my parents wanted me to get a job, my body wanted to be quiet and think. i was hopelessly tired and felt as if i was accomplishing nothing. waves of depression began to do their pre-crest pull. rather than continue to be still and listen to my inner voice, i began a full out sprint to the stage to begin my stand-up comedy career. </p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia">the rush when you come off the stage is one countless comics spend a lifetime chasing. it was addictive…one open mic turned into a handful of shows- but i wasn't proud of my work. when i started doing shows, i was venting about the things that i hadn't been able to say for a while. mostly about being a femme lesbian in a male-dominated world…and not because WE live in a male dominated world but i was coming from 5 years experience in the radio/TV industry- which is still very much a boys' club. i'd watch videos of my stand-up performances only to be horrified at how i came across…"that's not me! i'm more than that!!"</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia">the challenge with "finding your voice in comedy" is first in realizing that you will never find your voice in comedy if you are looking for it. being humorous isn't a language or dialect, it is (at its core) about human connections… finding a universal thread and pulling it to evoke a smile. for several months i was scared to go back on stage. at the time i felt it was because i hadn't found my comedic voice but i know now that it was ME that i had yet to find.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia">i had to slow down- WAY DOWN from what i'd been used to. i had to re-evaluate everything. what do i believe? what are my talents? where do my passions lie? </p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia">in the fall i exploded creatively. what should have been a blessing seemed to be more of a curse. i was creating, thinking, and inside of my head so much that it was hard to do anything but create. i could see a future where i supported myself through my talents, and just like that- the fog of uncertainty began to lift. all this time i'd been telling myself that the voice within that urged me to make new things was a distraction. wanting to take pictures when i was to be writing jokes or making art when i should have been reading…these weren't distractions but muses waking up! </p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia">"you're ADD or something- everyone is now a'days."</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia">i'm sorry- but that's just not true. i'm not hyperactive, i'm <i>hypercreative</i>- and no drug can slow down my brain. nearly 8 months have passed since i left a job for my dreams… and i still have no idea what the fuck i'm doing with my life. i have a ways to go before i'm supported by my art and living in my dreamworld but everyday brings me one step closer to all that exists within me. </p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia">people will always have an opinion and oft times they mirror the negative voices in our heads. i hate to be so curt- but fuck those people. life is a series of choices and these have been mine. i proudly stand behind them all. if you don't think i'm living my life according to your standards, you're absolutely right. i'm finally beginning to understand that direction and aim are two very different things. one aims at a target and success is black and white- either you made your mark or didn't. direction, on the other hand, has no specific end point…just movement.</p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia; min-height: 14.0px"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Georgia">i, ashley linder, vow in 2012 to continue moving in the direction of my dreams- join me, won't you?</p>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-8657345256623395152011-09-13T00:51:00.003-04:002011-09-13T00:57:54.010-04:00VLOG: an adorably awkward, dinosaur loving weirdo<div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">coming to terms with being an adorably awkward, dinosaur loving weirdo</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">my personal vlog</span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><iframe width="400" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/o2n5-bcBbew" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">i finally took the stage at Riot Act comedy theater in Washington DC and lessons were learned...lessons like "don't talk about period blood".</span></div>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-76118611852832832332011-08-17T18:58:00.003-04:002011-08-17T19:02:52.351-04:00VLOG: "wow, that could have gone better"<div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">"wow, that could have gone better"</span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">my personal vlog</span></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">
<br /></span></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><iframe width="400" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/h-8jbpHFiFc" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></span></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: normal; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 14px; "><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" ft="{"type":1}" style=" color: rgb(0, 0, 0); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; word-wrap: break-word; font-weight: normal; font-size:11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">
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<br />i spread my comedy wings and host my first stand-up comedy event at Ragtime in Arlington VA...needless to say, things could have gone better.</span></span>
<br />ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-5099564888339883062011-08-16T16:50:00.002-04:002011-08-16T16:55:06.212-04:00VLOG: dino for pterosaurs<div style="text-align: center; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">dino for petrosaurs</span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">my personal vlog</span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">
<br /></span></span></i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><iframe width="400" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/U3nowmOxctE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">
<br />i constructed an entire VLOG around a 10 second clip of me making cat sounds...you're welcome world.</span>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-54664860349628223642011-08-12T08:35:00.002-04:002011-08-12T08:38:31.869-04:00VLOG: august 11th<div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">august 11th</span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">my personal vlog</span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">
<br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><iframe width="400" height="350" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8erAhWk21-Q" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">today brings many joyful things...
<br />-the grand opening of Riot Act in Washington DC (8th & E NW)
<br />-premiere of Apacowonderland later this evening</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">-METEOR SHOWER (i don't mention this in the video, but it is worth noting)</span></span><div>
<br /></div></div>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-48481205879808442172011-07-29T15:42:00.003-04:002011-08-12T08:35:22.140-04:00VLOG: job hunting<div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">ashley goes job hunting</span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">my personal vlog</span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">
<br /></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><iframe width="400" height="350" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/RtoNV-1Qod0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">with a new, state of the art comedy club set to open in DC in a few weeks, i kick up the creative in order to gain their attention...</span></span></div>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-38647705366509689802011-07-19T14:26:00.001-04:002011-07-19T14:35:05.221-04:00VLOG: "the blind babbler"<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><b>"the blind babbler"</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i>my personal vlog</i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><iframe width="400" height="350" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/HVC10Ws6GIg" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></span></span></div>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-33402620240582488382011-07-18T01:06:00.003-04:002011-07-18T01:10:44.910-04:00VLOG: cool kid craft club<div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>"cool kid craft club: party of one"</strong><br /><em>my personal vlog</em><br /></span><br /><br /><iframe height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ewH0J7E-9ZE" frameborder="0" width="450"></iframe></div>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-62572744652704503272011-07-12T13:58:00.003-04:002011-07-12T14:01:31.536-04:00VLOG: it's no joke...<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><b>"it's no joke...i'm fiscally broke"</b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>my personal vlog</i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i><iframe width="450" height="300" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/1TH6WTy7cL0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></i></span></span></div>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-38281183545685170112011-01-25T17:30:00.001-05:002011-01-25T17:37:34.369-05:00techburnt<div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>techburnt<br /></strong><em>in an electrocentric world</em></span></div><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">there are several things i am good at. collecting pens that write smoothly and evenly- choosing the fastest lane when stuck in traffic- striking gold at thrift stores- and making crafts rank among my most useful skills. i used to fancy myself an avid texter as well but with the rise in text-related traffic accidents (read: they passed a law in both the states i drive in daily and i'm not trying to get any tickets) i've almost completely lost my desire not only to text but to communicate altogether via technology.<br /><br />my tech-qualms aren't just limited to my phone, but the internet as well. i've grown increasingly more uncomfortable with the amount of information we ourselves willingly put out there. this epiphany couldn't have happened at a worse time, our society is rapidly changing and growing more and more dependent on technological what-have-yous. from cell phones to tablets to laptops to fucking robots that are disguised as cell phones (i'm talking to you driod); to hell with the copernican model- we live an electrocentric world and we've reached the age of automation.<br /><br />for years science fiction writers and enthusiasts alike have warned us of a robot-lead revolution. fortunately for the masses the probability of robots raising arms against us is slim, but the likelihood of our <strong>own</strong> kind going ape shit with androids raised high is real- very real.<br /><br />last week a friend and i were discussing our weekends. i told her that my sister and her boyfriend of 8 years finally got married and the ceremony was a beautiful one. the other bridesmaids and i wore long black and white silk gowns that danced in the wind. this would have been a picturesque moment were it not 11 degrees and all of us sans bra...but it wasn't about us- it was about love.<br /><br />as i began to regale her with the tale of how the jello shots made it to the reception she stopped me mid sentence- "that reminds me, i'm so pissed at britt. i invited her out this weekend and she didn't respond to my text or my message on facebook. she's so rude."<br /><br />sensing i had exhausted her with tales of my family being far too fun at the wedding, i fueled her tangent by stating, "don't you think you might be acting a bit harshly? it's just facebook and a phone...maybe she was out busy engaging in life or working. i think people are too quick to get pissed off about things that the other person isn't actually culpable for."<br /><br />her pug looking head cock to the side told me that i had lost her. so i elaborated, "what i mean by that is, it's unfair of you to be angry with a person for something so trivial. if you never talk to britt face to face, how will she ever know you got upset about her lack of response? who's to say she even read your message? maybe she is ignoring you- but maybe she's just techburnt."<br /><br />to be techburnt is to be completely strung out and over extended in the online world.<br /><br />now i'm the first to admit, it comes across as pretty hypocritical of me to state that i'm not comfortable with a lot of technology and yet i have a twitter, a facebook, a tumblr, a youtube and a blogger account. in years past i even went so far as to swear to never sign up for a twitter account (as i was convinced it was a tool for the government to monitor 'the pulse of the people'...but that's a can of worms better left closed until another day.)<br /><br />i now regard twitter as a electronic post-it pad that helps me organize my often scattered thoughts. unlike facebook it doesn't ram my activities in the faces of all my "friends". i don't have much to say positivity about facebook except when used properly it <strong>can</strong> be a great networking tool...this is the only reason i still have an active account, well- that AND i was allowed to change my name to "Eunikorn Kweif" (take that, heightened monitoring of name changes!).<br /><br />my main gripe isn't with the services themselves, but how people conduct themselves after being privy to such personal information- as if that level of transparency is owed to us. it's unnatural to me to be mid-conversation with someone, only to be stopped with "oh yah i know, i read about that on your facebook...you mentioned it on someones wall i think." what the fuck?!<br /><br />i doubt i can do much to hault the progress of technology, but i can change how i interact with it. the overwhelming exchange of information shouldn't be feared, but we most definitely need to address how open we are online (as well as how open we expect others to be). feeling slighted for a misconstrued comment or dejected after a missed response online are no grounds for termination of a friendship, but rather an opportunity for you to talk to said person IN REAL LIFE.<br /><br />forgive me in advance for not being the best texter, emailer, facebook wall-poster, or tweeter...i promise you that i'm still the same great friend deep down but i'd rather engage with my real life over the e-one i've constructed (except with tumblr...where i'm forever online and forever alone, lol).<br /><br /><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 274px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 210px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://images.memegenerator.net/Forever-Alone/File/142442/Forever-Alone.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><br /><strong>feel free to connect with me:<br /></strong>twitter.com/apacowayner<br />apacotopia.tumblr.com<br />youtube.com/apacowayner </span></p>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-11414758190188124172010-12-30T15:06:00.004-05:002010-12-30T20:53:47.579-05:00dormant desire<div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>dormant desire<br /></strong><em>aka: my life until now...</em></span></div><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">for as long as i can remember i've made it my mission to do two things- treat people as i'd want to be treated and never, ever be a cliché. the thought of being just like everyone else always terrified me and whenever i tried it it did nothing but make me feel even more unique and different.<br /><br />my fear of being normal is due in large part to the fact that on paper- i am. since being accidentally conceived on moving day after the birth control was packed, my life has been painfully typical. upon entrance into the world i was cloaked in the most common name of the 80's, "ashley". growing up as a white, middle class girl with blond hair, blue eyes and having a pink 1989 vw cabriolet as my first car, it would have seemed that my barbie-doll life was well on its way to "happily ever after". where many would see a blissful, easy-breezy path towards the future- i saw monotony, complacency and the most dreaded of all- settling.<br /><br />i've always had a love/hate relationships with plans. part of me yearns for the security of having an agenda and goals; the other part of me shuns anyone/thing that attempts to 'chain me down' and keep me from a freedom filled existence. in 2005 i graduated high school and there was no question- i was going to college for communications, in hopes of someday figuring out what the hell i wanted to do other than talk in public places and prank call people. (which i was very good at, i'll have you know)<br /><br />it was an interesting place to be, between the certainty of the next four years and the looming uncertainty of what path i would go on after i got that piece of paper. i needed something more concrete. during my first year of college i tried desperately to sink my teeth into something fulfilling, something that would awaken me and set my dreams in motion. class after class; club after club; activity after activity; i found nothing that shook me to my core, i wasn't happy…i had to fix the problem.<br /><br />there will always be those who doubt your choices on your journey towards ultimate happiness...sometimes that person may even be you. all too often we are scared to do what we want because we've been told "it's not sensible" or "it's not right" or "that's not the way it should be done". in 2006 i broke my parents heart and quit college in pursuit of my dreams.<br /><br />my dreams were still pretty free-form at that point. ok, well that's a lie- i <strong>did</strong> know more than anything i wanted to be a stand-up comedian. it was the only dream i'd had since childhood that never went away. i love making people laugh, i enjoy being clever, and i like writing...it seemed like at every bend the universe was pushing me towards comedy. i wanted to move out to LA in hopes of making it big. ahh but then the pesky "i refuse to be a cliché" line kept swimming around in my head. "really ash? you think that you are any different from the countless other dreamers who flock to the west? you think an awkward, string bean of a girl would be successful on stage? you need something solid, something secure...you need to get a ball rolling on a career path."<br /><br />after refusing to acknowledge my dream, i pushed onward in my search for happiness and i made a plan. i enrolled in a broadcasting school and quickly fell in love with radio. since childhood i could be found recording my own shows and forcing whoever would listen, to do just that. after being in school for a few weeks, i couldn't wait to get into a real studio. i snuck down the street one day after class and i talked my way into my first internship at a male talk radio station (unbeknownst to my teachers). the president of my school took me under his wing and pulled out all the stops in order to get my feet wet. he urged me to apply for a job with his daughter, which just so happened to be at the discovery channel. i landed the gig as a media librarian at the discovery channel communications HQ. in the year that i had been home after quitting college i had secured a full-time job with benefits, an internship at a popular radio station, and was going to broadcasting school...life was truly blossoming.<br /><br />during my internship i worked for the morning show which consisted of four main guys, two producers, and a movie reviewer. on day one they pulled me on air to get to know me a little bit better. at the time i had just turned 19 and i was only recently comfortable discussing my sexuality publicly. it wasn't long before i was known as the 'hot-bisexual-intern' to listeners (i came out as a lesbian a year later), which was a regrettable way of confirming to my mother (a station listener as well) that i wasn't kidding when i said i wasn't straight. sorry mom!<br /><br />i gobbled up any job i could around the station. from setting up events to recording commercials to escorting strippers to the greenroom…i did it all and happily so. i loved my time as an intern but as soon as it began the ride was over. a day prior to my internship being complete i was offered a position at the station, which i took (to replace the job i had recently left at the discovery channel) and staid there for another year and a half.<br /><br />people are incredibly dismissive of radio due to the FCC manhandling all creative forces at play on air. many also complain that radio stations play a selection of music that's repetitive and often way too mainstream. what few outside of the radio world know is that terrestrial radio has the potential to be entertaining, interactive, enlightening, and something really magical. i will never stop believing in radio- ever, i only hope that the FCC someday recognizes the err of their ways and adopts the mantra from our own constitution- "freedom of the press".<br /><br />finding a sense of belonging in the radio community, i pushed forward on the airwaves. i left the unpredictable world of male talk radio for a more straight laced spot on the dial- news stations. with all the shtick and sexually themed conversations i'd been a part of in the past, i welcomed the complete 180 of being in a news room reporting on serious events. i accepted a job working weekends as a traffic reporter and in a matter of months i had moved into a full time spot during the weekdays. a year after my first shift on air, i was offered a position on TV as the afternoon traffic girl- at 21, i couldn't have felt more accomplished.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cRSbItsTCps/TR0z1TR0dCI/AAAAAAAABtE/JsRS-SipsWo/s1600/bestfriend.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556654506046157858" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cRSbItsTCps/TR0z1TR0dCI/AAAAAAAABtE/JsRS-SipsWo/s200/bestfriend.jpg" border="0" /></a>for the past three and a half years i've dutifully reported the traffic day after day in the nations capital. it doesn't exactly get me the ladies but i'm sincerely fascinated with the ebb and flow of cars (traffic nerd 2 da MAXX). a ride with me is often sprinkled with little known reasoning behind major work zones, or fun stories of major accidents. nothing brings me as much joy as discussing the gruesome tales i've witnessed/reported on throughout the years...unfortunately, this isn't a shared love and more often then not people think i'm morbid or weird for finding my reports on daily death so fascinating.<br /><br />that itch that prompted me to leave college is flaring up again in a major way. in recent months work has demanded nearly all of my time. i don't say that in the way that most people do when they are mindlessly complaining about their job- i say it in the most honest way possible. while i've gone to a social gathering here and there, since the end of the summer i've been swallowed socially by my job. sitting in it- driving through it- reporting on it- or trying to avoid it; traffic is all i can see. in years past, complete career saturation has been a welcomed occurrence; i like loving my job and don't mind being consumed with it. but the moon is shifting and the tides are changing in my little world, i'm gaining the confidence needed to reach out and follow the stars that live in my heart.<br /><br />i know dreams won't stay asleep forever...i just hope i wake up in enough time to chase mine down.</span>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-37037872226731392052010-11-26T01:01:00.003-05:002011-04-28T15:02:06.195-04:00usurp the drama queen: period<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><div style="text-align: center;"><b>usurp the drama queen:</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>PERIOD</i></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div>drama; a word that in my younger life evoked images of stage productions and movie stars, now is forever marred by the maxed out emotions of petty people. with the rate at which people complain about it you would think that drama was an unavoidable predator, who lurks in the shadows waiting to pounce on kind-hearted individuals.<br /><br />upon first meeting new friends i pay close attention to their word choices. if the phrase, "i hate drama" tumbles out of their mouth (or the less true statement of "i'm totally drama-free") i'm sure to take note. not because i think i've stumbled across the one person who has no issues whatsoever in life but because they are probably full of shit and live for dramatic encounters.<br /><br />i don't generally like to base my theories off of the assumption that people are liars but some of the most troublesome, disruptive personalities i've met also claimed to hate drama. therefore, my theory is rooted in truth (even if that truth is little more than my life experiences).<br /><br />it would come as a shock to no one to learn that there is a portion of people who not only enjoy drama but seem thrive within its grasp. these people are commonly referred to as drama queens. they aren't always as attractive as mean girls would have us believe (something tells me i could have handled high school with a lot more grace where it lindsay lohan and her massive mammaries telling me i was a freak of nature but that's neither here nor there) my mother always told me to avoid these types of folks and keep my guard up around them. being the asshole child i was, i refused to believe any lesson that i hadn't learned in the most challenging way possible. i chose to try and tame the beast.<br /><br />my thinking had always been if there are folks out there who do nothing but stir up drama, then it's possible for the exact opposite to exist. i learned very quickly that it was too idealistic of me to believe that one person could put out all the fires another had set. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">negativity can sometimes spread faster than positivity. when negative vibes begin move around in hateful actions and gossip people start to feed off of it. to a certain extent we begin to enable each other, we tell each other it's ok to be nasty.<br /><br />why? why would we encourage each other to be bitches and assholes? who's idea was it to think that being disrespectful, condescending, or in any way that you yourself would not like done to you, was any way to treat any woman (or anyone in the LGBT community or anyone ANYWHERE)? staying with just women however, i don't think its right to support our friends hurting other people, no matter who that is. jaded, hurt, alone, angry- we've all been there, but why inflict that on another person? why keep that cycle going? that goes against every grain of my being…i, for one, am standing up-<br /><br />if you gain anything from this piece, i hope it is this- we are meant to lift each other up, never tear each other down. everyone is someone else; every body has different essence and soul; we are all worthy of both giving and receiving respect. in order for you to become the unicorn who storms the castle to usurp the drama queen and end her rude reign of tyranny you must be the period. someone has to end the cycle of drama. even if your period is scratched out by a later editor who continues to add more crap as a run-on sentence to whom which doesn't make sense but you have to end it sometime; a period always has to come.<br /><br />unless there is an ellipse… you see, i've yet to find a person who truly leads a "drama-free life". the nature of life is that its unpredictable and at times tumultuous. we've been trained to think that all drama is bad- that it is something to be feared or hated or used as a way to gain power, but that's not true. drama can be (and is) a very beautiful, essential part of life. my only sister; my best friend. my body with bigger boobs and more interesting tattoos, is getting married in a few weeks. a freshly rattled snow globe would best describe the flurry of drama that has surrounded this one day. it's crazy to me but in an inexplicable way. i love her so much and i love them together, i wouldn't trade this drama for anything.<br /><br />good, bad, essential or otherwise drama happens. we are all on this short ride together, doesn't it just feel right to help over hurt? everyone has lead a life up until the point you met them..we all are equals. drama queens around the world (and i do mean actual queens in some cases)? be wary, for someone somewhere read my message. that sour, slithering, saucy sentence you've been spitting? it's going to end…<br />soon…know why?<br />i'm on my period- </span><span style="font-weight:bold;font-size:85%;" ><span class="Apple-style-span">BE THE PERIOD</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">.</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-22755826105798595592010-11-08T22:20:00.002-05:002010-11-08T22:57:13.234-05:00optical illusions<div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>optical illusions<br /></strong><em>what you see isn't what you get<br /><br /></em></div></span><span style="font-size:85%;">not a single soul sees the world exactly as i see it. i'm not special, or unique, or on a lot of hallucinogenic drugs...i'm just blind without some sort of corrective lenses. when strangers pluck the glasses off my face and slip them in front of their eyes squeals of, "oh my god- you weren't kidding! i feel like i'm on drugs!" are often heard.<br /><br />unfortunately for me, i'm blind enough to wear comically thick glasses but not blind enough to own a seeing eye dog...</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> nor am i actually blind enough to legally classify myself as "blind" (a fact found out when i attempted to apply for a scholarship for the visually impaired in high school and was promptly denied on account of the fact that <strong>i can see</strong>.)<br /><br />being acutely aware of my visual shortcomings, i became intrigued early in life with differences in perception. where my eyes failed, my mind filled in the blanks. that spawned a lifelong fascination with optical illusions. the first time i saw the work of m.c. escher my worldview expanded. it was as if he opened the door and gave me permission to see what wasn't apparent outright. in his work what is- isn't...a staircase that leads to more of the same? hands drawing themselves? triangles that transform birds?<br /><br />the mind is a gnarled, unexplainable labyrinth that houses an endless array of possibilities and paths. we are so quick to limit ourselves to believing in only the tangible, the sensible, and the rational that we forget how beautiful the unreal can be.<br /><br />not a single soul sees the world exactly as i see it. i'm not special, or unique, or on a lot of hallucinogenic drugs...i'm just open to the beauty of life's optical illusions.</span>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-39799866241700762172010-11-05T22:00:00.002-04:002010-11-06T00:56:05.212-04:00lost and found lesbifriend<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><b>lost and found lesbifriend</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>don't call it a comeback</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">lesbifriends was born out of a particularly challenging time in my life. directionless, emotionally drained, and just plain lost; my blog began as an escape from my mind. by focusing on other thoughts; by writing about positive things; by simply having an outlet- i found a great deal of peace. through this recent depressive lull in my life however, i no longer found that peace post after post.<br /><br />my blog is a reflection of who i am. i turn to it to unload, to connect and ultimately find some sanity. while i don't like being explicitly personal on my blog, i do make it a point to always speak honestly of my feelings. this stems from my firm belief that were we all honest with our emotions, we'd find we are all a lot more alike than not (and as an awkward, unique, string bean of a lady- that is a very comforting thought.)<br /><br />shutting down emotionally is not uncommon for me but to stop writing...well, that was a new one.<br /><br />i didn't lose my passion for writing- i was still filling up journals and scribbling notes everywhere but nothing expressed all i truly wanted to unleash. i didn't want to turn my blog into what my head had become... something with a nasty, negative, mean voice. the only way i could do this while still posting new material was to censor myself. in doing that i was also shutting down my lone outlet.<br /><br />it was only natural for me to want to write out my frustrations but having a life that is entwined with so many- i felt it would quickly become a gossip blog or a forum to bash situations that i found fucked up. i wanted to allow my feelings to flow out. i wanted to call people out on terrible actions. i wanted to let people know that my social silence wasn't indicative of my complacency but rather was my attempt to 'rise above'. i wanted to tell the world how alone and betrayed i was. try as i might, 'posting through the pain' for the past few months didn't bring me much comfort. i was still sad and not writing about ALL that was swirling around in my head.<br /><br />it was my father's voice from long ago that finally brought me the stillness i so desperately needed. in elementary school, i remember working on my math homework with him one night. the problem had to do with fractions and it was not clicking in my little head. i'd been working on it for what seemed like hours and was still at a complete standstill. i became increasingly more agitated until i finally broke down in tears and demanded he tell me the answer. he didn't... he never would give me the answers... but he did tell me that i needed to take a step back- breathe for a moment- then approach the problem with fresh eyes.<br /><br />i never did figure out the answer to the question (fuck fractions) but i did carry his message with me from then on. meditation, self-reflection and a fresh world view can make all the difference. after a dark and difficult summer, my days are sunny once again. does that mean life is a double rainbow (all the way)? certainly not. but i have 'refreshed my home-screen' if you will, and i'm looking at life through new, bright, hopeful eyes.<br /><br />it feels good to be back my lesbi-friends.</span></div>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-78234183929743815572010-10-05T15:13:00.005-04:002010-10-05T18:59:21.961-04:00directionless dreamer<div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>directionless dreamer</strong><br /><em>finding inspiration in my bff jill<br /></em></span></div><em></em><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524693794204583154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRSbItsTCps/TKunvBhehPI/AAAAAAAABr8/lckUDi1d1zM/s200/jill.jpg" border="0" /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">www.jillbethhannes.com</span></div></span><div><span style="font-size:85%;">during my freshmen year of high school, i met a woman who would change my life forever. it was several weeks prior to the start of school and the summer sun was still freckling my skin as i prepared for tryouts. with my braces freshly off and my nearly blind eyes now corrected by contacts, i walked into cheerleading tryouts confidently. sure- i had no actual experience, nor did i have a passion for cheering...but i liked smiling and waving my arms around wildly, so it seemed an appropriate fit.<br /><br />i learned very quickly that i didn't fit in with the rest of the girls trying out. still three years away from puberty, my body was anything but womanly. my thighs were soft and rounder than the other girls. my hair was long and pulled back with no discernible style. as more girls walked in my confidence faded. they were mesmerizingly beautiful and had been cheering for years, there was no way i could be part of this elite club- i was too awkward and weird...then she walked in.<br /><br />jill beth hannes was an ivory skinned, strikingly beautiful 14 year old. her face, like her eyes, were peppered with freckles. standing still she was the definition of grace and pose. walking, i soon found out, was another story. jill owned two, very narrow, extremely flat feet. this made balance a challenge for her. she came stumbling into tryouts and my life, narrowly missing a face plant on the cafeteria floor. it was clear to me that this gangily, stumbling creature would be my greatest friend.<br /><br />we both made the squad and from then on did everything together. cheerleading, theater, yearbook, stealing shopping carts/repainting them/riding them around the neighborhood; we took high school by storm. my awkwardness and anxious nature had finally found their counterpart. she made me feel closer to normal (which in those crucial years, is very much needed).<br /><br />after high school jill moved to san francisco to follow her dreams of becoming a photographer for vogue. upon finishing school she sold nearly all she owned and bought a one way ticket to new york city. i remember her telling me that all of her internships had fallen through just before she officially moved into the big apple. as someone who thrives on the stability of set plans, i was very concerned for her. "so, you don't have a job or any internships? aren't you scared? how will you survive?"<br /><br />the truth is she was probably scared shittless but she gave herself no option but success. with her back against the wall she was relentless in her search for work. several months after her move she now has a job and two internships, one of which with the famed nylon magazine. jill continues to climb the ladder of success and will no doubt rise to the heights she's been dreaming of all her life.<br /><br />i can't help but be a bit jealous- not of her successes, but of how clearly she sees her dreams. i yearn for that clarity. while i've been successful in my current line of work, i feel as if i'm marching tirelessly on a path with no end in sight. i have no definitive end goal and it's driving me crazy. i have nothing worth selling all i own in pursuit of.<br /><br />i've tried to compile lists of my strengths, as well as things that bring me happiness in hopes of figuring out where it is i should steer my ship. but s.s.ashley is still riding the waves of a path i set out on years ago. and while i'm closer than ever to figuring out what i want out of life, all this introspection is starting to drive me crazy.<br /><br />with time i'm certain i'll figure it out...that's how things generally happen, right? i've always felt like my purpose was to connect with the disconnected and to make people smile. someday i'll find a job that utilizes all of my strengths and talents. i just wish i knew what that job was so i could drop everything in pursuit of it. all i can do now is continue to move forward in work and life and hope that i find my dreams along the way.</span></div>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-72081357065516404612010-09-23T17:55:00.003-04:002010-09-23T18:23:03.119-04:00you can pity the fool<div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>you can</strong></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong> pity the fool</strong><br /><em>but don't pity the lonely</em> </span></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 335px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 222px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.solopassion.com/files/ronery_2.jpg" border="0" /> <div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">everyday millions of people classify themselves as lonely. some are launched into loneliness by way of betrayal, mistrust, and abandonment. others cling to it in attempts to become a stronger individual; proving no one is needed for their survival.<br /><br />being alone has been vilified for years. it should come as no shock that so many regard it as a depressive pit of despair- we've been trained to think this way. it's commonly understood that the crazy cat lady lives alone and speaks to no one but felines. everyone knows the man seated alone at the diner <strong>must</strong> be waiting for someone to join him- he couldn't possibly be solo by choice.<br /><br />somehow throughout time we've come to believe that sadness and loneliness go hand in hand; that no one could possibly <strong><em>want</em></strong> to be alone- let alone thrive when left to their own devices.<br /><br />feeling alone and being alone are two different animals. truly being alone is something i've never been. lest it be family, partners, friends, coworkers, or friendly-faced strangers; i've always found something worth holding onto in other people. all my life, i've clung hopelessly to the belief that people are inherently good. it's a challenge to hold onto that mentality when those who surround you do things that (for lack of a more eloquent wording) make you sad but if you believe that everyone is rooted in evil...what does that make you?<br /><br />the line, "you are the company you keep" continues to swirl around in my head and i can't help but shout back, "WE ARE ALL INDIVIDUALS, NOT CLONED SHEEP!" i've witnessed my friends do things i couldn't fathom doing. in turn, i'm sure they have seen me conduct myself in a manner they find foreign and bizarre. i know that the world is pretty fucked up, but i dismiss that as my mantra and try focus on the good.<br /><br />alone is a tough title to keep while still remaining positive about the world around you. when you remove yourself from society, every one and thing has no choice but to live up to all of your expectations. how can anyone prove you wrong and encourage you to trust again when you won't allow them in? how could anything be more than you imagine when you don't give it the chance to?<br /><br />the most depressing thing i heard this summer came out of the mouth of someone who was very close to me at the time. she was going through a rough breakup and was beginning to loose faith in humanity. with tear filled eyes she turned to me and said, <em>"i know- i'll just sleep with her ex! that will show her!"</em><br /><br />this sweet, kind girl wanted to destroy another emotionally to justify the pain she was in. i understand hurt- we <strong>all</strong> understand being betrayed but when did this mentality of 'getting people back' become king? i've been driven to loneliness by none other than myself, but the actions of peers have forced me to question my return. do i want to come back to a world that encourages us to hurt each other when we feel wronged?<br /><br />the only thing i do know for certain is that i can only focus on my own actions. judging others for living in a manner that i deem unfit is no better than the bigots who flick off my car for my HRC sticker. it boils down to a simple difference of opinion. hate can be hidden in many forms, including that of 'concern for others'.<br /><br />i can now admit that negativity and anger have clouded my vision for far too long this summer. while i'm still baffled by the behaviors i witness, i'm also ready to bat away the cobwebs and return to life. i can either live in the snowglobe-dream-world i've constructed for myself or i can engage with real life and take it as it comes.<br /><br />being alone can be restorative and cleansing. my self-ostracization has brought me closer to myself and given me a greater understanding of how people interact with each other. to my lonely friends out there- remember, through this painfully connected world no one is ever truly alone. as long as you still have the strength to lift up your hand...someone will be there to hold it and even if no one is there, hope isn't lost. you are stronger than you could ever dream. you don't require anyone in order to become who you will be. we all have the ability to both rise and fall, it's up to you alone to choose what path you take.</span> </div>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-19756840473640941162010-09-23T15:09:00.002-04:002010-09-23T20:09:02.516-04:00pride in the sky<div align="center"> <span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>pride in the sky</strong><br /><em>the rooftop in rockville</em></span><br /><br /></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">this weekend is a big one in the lesbiworld around the dc metropolitan area. first you have the annual phasefest, hosted by phase one which starts this evening and lasts throughout the weekend. (<a href="http://phasefest.com/home.html">get more infomation regarding phasefest here</a>) if bands and bars aren't your thing you can hop on down to richmond, virginia for virginia pride. (<a href="http://www.vapride.org/">get more info here</a>)<br /><br />but what about my maryland sisters? richmond is a haul for even viriginians and sometimes DC can be a daunting drive for our neighbors to the north. well fear not friends, all hope is not lost! there is an up and coming event that is steadily gaining speed in montgomery county. <a href="http://www.latascausa.com/site/">la tasca</a> is a spanish restaurant and bar in rockville, maryland. they have several different locations peppered thoughout DC/VA/MD that host such events as live flamenco shows, dancing lessons, and the occational free sangria and tapas. at their rockville location this weekend they are hosting the rooftop party, pride in the sky. <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRSbItsTCps/TJuvaK6qcCI/AAAAAAAABr0/Fx026J-xkP8/s1600/Pride_September.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520198632414539810" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 289px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 378px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRSbItsTCps/TJuvaK6qcCI/AAAAAAAABr0/Fx026J-xkP8/s320/Pride_September.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />on saturday from 8pm-1am every ones favorite, DJ rosie (of Bare parties at Cobalt) will be spinning. they offer a happy hour from 8-9pm with $3 beers, sangria, wine and rail drinks. the drag show goes on at midnight but the view from the roof is free all night.<br /><br />it's also worth noting that several of my close friends are going to be bartending the event. now i say this with as much depth as possible, but they are aesthetically pleasing in every way and thus you should go see them and shower them with your hard earned cash. they even possess charming personalities to match their beauty; all of 'em are worth your tips and good times.<br /><br />i hope where ever you land this weekend, you have a magical time and are surrounded by warm, loving people.<br /><br />pride in the sky @ the rooftop in rockville<br />155 gibbs st., suite 305<br />rockville, md 20850<br />saturday 8pm-1am 21+ w ID<br />$5 cover until 10pm $7 after</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/#!/event.php?eid=155533547792212&ref=nf">event on facebook</a></span></div>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-26254735353605577962010-09-21T15:28:00.004-04:002010-09-21T19:05:54.578-04:00it's that time of the month!<div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>it's that time of the month!</strong><br /><em>bridget mcmanus presents: that time of the month</em><br /></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">just in case you missed the 22 minutes of perfection that aired on LOGO last tuesday, here it is for your viewing pleasure...</span></div><div align="left"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><object width="448" height="376" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" id="ordie_player_bee46083c0"><param name="movie" value="http://player.ordienetworks.com/flash/fodplayer.swf"><param name="flashvars" value="key=bee46083c0"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed width="448" height="376" flashvars="key=bee46083c0" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" quality="high" src="http://player.ordienetworks.com/flash/fodplayer.swf" name="ordie_player_bee46083c0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object><div style="text-align:left;font-size:x-small;margin-top:0;width:448px;"><a href="http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/bee46083c0/bridget-mcmanus-presents-that-time-of-the-month-episode-5" title="from BrunchWithBridget">Bridget McManus Presents: That Time of the Month Episode 5</a> - watch more <a href="http://www.funnyordie.com/" title="on Funny or Die">funny videos</a></div></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">if you want to be a part of the show and love ladies checkout the guidelines for submissions </span><a href="http://www.bridgetmcmanus.com/brmcTTOTM1.htm"><span style="font-size:85%;">here</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> or you can email me at </span><a href="mailto:apacowayner@gmail.com"><span style="font-size:85%;">apacowayner@gmail.com</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cRSbItsTCps/TJkVK522IkI/AAAAAAAABrs/sAx6itsEFnA/s1600/ttotm.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519466095392989762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cRSbItsTCps/TJkVK522IkI/AAAAAAAABrs/sAx6itsEFnA/s320/ttotm.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></div>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-3225896060056341232010-09-16T13:00:00.005-04:002010-09-16T15:32:35.787-04:00vaginas: natures fortune cookie<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><b>vaginas:</b><br /></span><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><i>natures fortune cookie</i><br /><br /></span><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;">every vagina is different. generally i'd follow that statement with "...<em>and all are beautiful</em>" but as my gynecologist delicately pointed out one visit, "<em>there is nothing beautiful about open sores and communicable diseases...<strong>healthy vaginas </strong>are beautiful."</em> i suppose being in a profession where on any given day you <em>could</em> find yourself forearm deep in the herpes-speckled snatch of a stranger, it's easy to see how one might lose sight of the specialness of vagina's and become jaded.</span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;">much like a fortune cookie, vagina's hide life lessons deep inside. when i was seven a vagina taught me that life is unpredictable and oft times uglier than we envision. even at that tender age, i came to the all-too-adult notion that the universe has some fucked up ways of exposing us to it's truths. very few moments in my childhood do i remember as vividly as my first encounter with another woman's genitals...please note: i do not say this with any sense of pride.</span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;">it was my first sleepover birthday party hosted by none other than the popular girls of elementary school. i couldn't contain my joy. new house, new smell, new experiences; it was going to be a great night, all i had to do was not be weird.</span></div><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;">clearly, i was destined for failure.</span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;">as the girls huddled around a table full of glitter, markers, pens and paper, my nose pulled me elsewhere. in my own little world on the floor of the laundry room, i crawled around sniffing everything. instead of leading to a life of coke binges and huffing paint, i hoped that my keen sniffer would simply lead me to the smell source. after all, i was investigating a suspicious scent (which, to be honest wasn't as suspicious as it was just shitty). the other girls undoubtedly got a whiff but they lacked my nancy-drew-like curiosity for the unexplained and chose to color bears and flowers instead.</span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;">unbeknownst to me, slinking around an unfamiliar house and rummaging through boxes of christmas decorations is frowned upon- it might even cause one to never be invited back to said house. moments before i lifted a towel off what i would later find out was a dog cage (with one very ill, shit-covered dog inside) a dainty hand of shocking strength pulled me up off the floor and ushered me back to the party.</span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><em><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: normal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>"wouldn't you rather be drawing poinsettias like the rest of the girls?"</em> the birthday girl's mother asked in a tone that said, <em>"seriously you little snoop- sit, color and stay outta my shit.</em>" she went on to explain how the dog was dying and i shouldn't bother him. her honesty was refreshing but did result in a horrified expression on my cherubic face. at the sight of this her story quickly changed to 'the dog ate chocolate, leave him alone' and my smile sheepishly returned.</span></span></div></em><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;">her hair was wound tightly around rollers and her nightgown wreaked of zest. her blood red nails coupled with the bright blue veins bulging from her hands had me all but convinced that she was going to turn us all into rats later (a la </span><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0100944/"><span style="font-size:85%;">witches</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;">) but after feeding us poisionless chinese food i figured we were in the clear.</span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;">the night began to wind down and the slumber bags were unrolled. as i wiggled my way deep inside the cocoon of cotton and polyester i felt satisfied. i had managed to survive the party being only borderline bizarre with one, lone witness- my friend's mother.</span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;">the line between being conscious and drifting into the REM cycle was finally beginning to blur when a loud sound awoke me. it was a person coming down the stairs. terrified that someone was breaking in, i shut my eyes as tight as i could and waited for them to leave.</span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;">that <em>would</em> have been a fine plan, had the stranger left promptly and not begun to walk around amongst the sleeping pre-teens. i could feel the footsteps march closer towards my beloved garfield sleeping bag until finally, the steps stopped. peeking out between the web woven by sleep, i could make out that this stranger was standing above me- a foot at each of my ears. now in legitimate fear for my life, my seven year old eyes opened as wide as they could to see my attacker and hopefully stave off death.</span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;">that's when it happened.</span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;">vaginatown.</span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;">turns out my 'attacker' was also my friend's mother who had popped back in to check on us. another fun turn of events was my friend's mother also appreciates the ease and comfort of pantie-less living. it's like that moment when you catch yourself staring into the sun. reason tells you that it's likely burning your retina and you should stop but some strange mixture of curiosity and self-loathing prevents you from doing that. her vagina stared back at me and gave me a sideways smile.</span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"><span style="font-size:85%;">it was the only time i've ever been horrified upon the sight of another womans genitals. quite frankly, it's shocking i'm gay having such a traumatizing experience as my first vagina spotting. the entire ordeal proved to be a worthwhile one, for i did learn a valuable lesson that cold (but not cold enough for underwear) winter night. metaphorically or otherwise, we all are blinded by unpleasant truths in life. it might be uncomfortable or painful momentarily but in the long run- it's just life, it's just a vagina.</span></div></div></div>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-23754002424209729212010-09-15T07:20:00.004-04:002010-09-15T15:11:23.081-04:00We hear you now PSA<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><b><span style="font-size:85%;">We hear you now PSA</span></b></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><i><span style="font-size:85%;">apacolyptic productions</span></i></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UnNeBTuYJkA?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UnNeBTuYJkA?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-size:85%;">We hear you now:</span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Public Service Announcment</span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Written/Directed/Produced:</span></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-size:85%;">ashley, apacolyptic productions</span></div></span>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-65634828826691452192010-09-13T15:17:00.003-04:002010-09-13T16:22:31.356-04:00more colorful<div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>more colorful</strong><br /><em>a thought<br /></em></span></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516495818555891426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 121px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cRSbItsTCps/TI6HuCXznuI/AAAAAAAABrk/dGERFHlWmPw/s320/nbcolorful.JPG" border="0" /> <div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">nbc's new fall slogan of "more colorful" television leaves me with more questions than answers. some might be prompted to glue themselves to the edgier, funnier, undoubtedly life changing programming they are set to unveil but others, like myself, ask simply "what color nbc?"<br /><br />at first i thought, "it's a racial nod. 'colorful' oh i get it!" but the greater portion of propaganda with the 'more colorful' slogan on it has a slew of white actors in their 30s. it's clear the color implied wasn't the color of ones skin. sure, a few minorities slipped into some photo opts, but not enough to constitute a new ad campaign.<br /><br />now admittedly, i don't watch tv with any sense of regularity and when i do catch a show that <em>everyone is talking about </em>i've more than likely witnessed it online. i have an acute awareness of the goings-on in the media world due to my job. work forces me to swallow commercial copy daily.<br /><br />after reading (over and over and over again) a commercial for nbc the truth became all too clear. "nbc's new daytime lineup features: the nate berkus show, the ellen degeneres show and the real housewives! everyday is full of color on nbc." as the words tumbled out of my mouth an epiphany was bubbling up within me- their advertising department's intention wasn't rooted in race, but in sexuality!<br /><br />my mother always accuses 'the gays' of being in your face and down your throat with their orientation. (so easily she forgets all the times that i personally have made efforts to <em>not</em> bring up my sexuality because it <em>offends</em> others...but i digress). i couldn't agree with her more in some cases, but more often than not it's only considered 'in your face' because it's not been an open topic in the past.<br /><br />instead of vilifying nbc for not showing more minorities, we should thank them for placing our delicate community smack dab in the center of the dinner table. fresh on the heels of gay marriage, nbc becomes gayer than ever with their obvious nod to the homosexuals. with their "more colorful" take on television, nbc parks two homo-hosts next to each other...it's official world- the gays are taking over the media. </span></div>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-49621079411747842952010-09-09T10:37:00.002-04:002010-09-09T11:25:38.145-04:00fecal matter face<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span">fecal-matter-face</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span">and that time of the month</span></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">when i emerged from my mother's lifehole 23 short years ago, i was covered in an adorable mixture of amniotic fluids, blood, and human fecal matter. not having ever experienced childbirth, it's easy for me to consider being a literal shithead upon delivery disgusting- vomit inducing even. the thought of a pristine newborn looking like a jackson pollock in various shades of brown reminds me that no one is perfect. whenever i accomplish something noteworthy in my life- something that might cause me to shout from the rooftops, i remind myself of one simple truth...</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><em><span class="Apple-style-span">you were born a warrior but your warpaint was shit- stay humble e cloi-face</span></em></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br />being humble isn't always easy when you are a good looking, ferociously smart young woman with a dazzling smile. but if you were a lady in your early twenties with gangly limbs and a borderline unhealthy love of dinosaurs, humility is something that comes naturally to you. it's hard to be cocky when you own both a fanny pack and a pt cruiser.<br /><br />the perks of poo comes in the form of life lessons. i've learned it might give me pink eye if it finds its way in/around my optical area but no shit can't squelch my dreams. i've never had issue with taking pride in my work but i have always been quick to downplay my successes in attempts to stay grounded. </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span">(i fear resting on past achievements causes people to settle...i never want to settle.)</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"> i've made no bones about the past several months having been less than stellar. throughout the summer i assured myself that something spectacular was coming my way- i just had to muddle through waist deep shit to get there.<br /><br /></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">now it's rare that i toot my own horn but BEEP BEEP mo'fucks! i can't keep this to myself any longer! i sat on this information for a little bit- mostly because i had a hard time believing it was real- but a dream has come true in my world and i'm one step closer to finding the cure for aids.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">ok- half of that statement isn't true but i </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span">did</span></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"> land a new internship. while i doubt it will put me on the path to curing aids, it is the gayest, most magical moment in my life to date. imagine witnessing a unicorn mount a vespa and drive on a rainbow colored road, all whilst wearing a top hat and handlebar mustache... </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span">THAT</span></i></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"> is how i feel and have felt since the news came down the line.</span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">some of you don't enjoy reading and find lots of words in a small font boring. you probably didn't even actually read to this point you just skimmed for a paragraph break..for you (and loyal readers alike) </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">HERE IS MY BIG BIG NEWS:<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" ><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;">i got an internship with the new show, bridget mcmanus presents: that time of the month</span></div><div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">which in turn means, bridget mcmanus is aware of my existence.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">the same woman who pillow fought with lena headey and is married to karman kregloe, emails me.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">the show airs on LOGO and afterellen.com, hello gay meccas!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">AND my name will appear as </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span">associate producer!</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">OMFG!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">i'm sorry- i still have a hard time digesting the whole thing.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">that time of the month, showcases the film and video work of lesbian and bisexual women. i owe </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://yourdailylesbianmoment.blogspot.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span">yourdailylesbianmoment</span></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"> author, arlan, a giant thank you. if it weren't for her, my little email would never have been taken seriously by bridget, let alone found it's way to her inbox</span><span style="font-size:85%;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span">.</span></i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"> she has been a tremendous inspiration and friend to me throughout my time in the blogosphere and posts photos/videos of incredibly attractive (generally half naked) women...thank you arlan- for everything.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">my summer into fall transition has been an exciting one, to say the least. one might even go so far as to say that i couldn't ask for anything more...but i will. it's a modest request, nothing that requires too much from you. i ask simply that next tuesday morning come 4am EST, you park yourself in front of a tv, turn on LOGO and watch: bridget mcmanus presents- that time of the month! then it's required that you laugh hysterically and tell all your friends about this delightful, new, lesbifriend-approved show!</span></div></div></div></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">storms of shit are worth weathering. while in the midst of one it's not uncommon to wish that life could go back to the way it was before. the smell, the feel, the overall quality of life during shitty times is just that- shitty. but we all know storms don't last and nothing is as it was before. life is all about progress, positivity and learning to dance with shit on your face.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span">bridget mcmanus presents:</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span">that time of the month</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">september 14th, 2010</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">4am est on LOGO</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">(if you are interested in being featured on the show and </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://www.bridgetmcmanus.com/brmcTTOTM1.htm"><span class="Apple-style-span">meet the requirements</span></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span">, don't hesitate to e-mail me: apacowayner@gmail.com and i will pass your work onto bridget...i can't wait to see what you ladies are working on!)</span></span></div>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-22135796673527780802010-09-06T18:12:00.000-04:002010-09-06T18:26:49.680-04:00rough and tumble<div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>rough and tumble lesbians</strong><br /><em>who are they?!</em></span></div><em><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><p align="left"></em><span style="font-size:85%;"><u>rough and tumble lesbians:<br /></u></span><span style="font-size:85%;">a new breed of mainstream lesbian; a monster mash-up of all your favorite stereotypical lesbian roles:<br /><em>two parts dyke + one part femme + a pinch of 'yo-boy' + a whole bunch of </em><a href="http://lesbifriends.blogspot.com/2009/08/dyke-swagga.html"><em>dyke swagger</em></a><em><br /><br />wardrobe consists mainly of:<br /></em>board shorts<br />brightly colored skater shoes<br />flat-billed hats (only worn slightly cocked to the side)<br />thin, mildly form fitting, cotton t-shirts (preferably v-neck) </span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">these girls aren't afraid to jump back and forth across the line between femme and dyke but they feel most at home in a pair of mesh shorts and a wife beater. with a wardrobe that would leave justin bieber speechless, rough and tumble lesbians offer more than the simple style of a preteen boy. to their outfits they bring color- neon to be exact. those who suffer from seizures should look elsewhere for a lover because these ladies love bold punches from the visual spectrum. from bright splashes on shoelaces to multicolored neon hats, everything is worthy of a kiss of color.<br /><br />rough and tumble lesbians differ from your everyday dyke in two major areas- hair and makeup. dykes are known for their shorter, often gender-neutral haircuts. brash and bold in their hair stylings, the dykes love shaving their heads (or more typical of your modern lesbian- shaving half or simply the square above the ear) sometimes they even spice it up to the point that they shave some speed stripes in there! conversely, rough and tumble girls generally roll with long, straightened hair.<br /><br />the myth that lesbians don't wear makeup couldn't be disproved more by our rough and tumble friends. with a flick of an eyeliner and a coat or two of mascara, these ladies aren't exactly breaking the bank at MAC. it might not be on par with drag queens but they <strong>do</strong> wear make-up, albeit a little.<br /><br />be on the lookout for this new lesbian breed on the rise...</span></p>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-14144711472490628102010-09-06T05:43:00.004-04:002010-09-06T10:13:51.447-04:00you should get naked...<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><b>you should get naked...</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><i>and other fun suggestions i passed on this weekend<br /></i></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">this weekend, against my better judgment, i forced some friends to join me in a directionless adventure. our mission was simple: go to arlington to deliver a birthday present to a jordana-brewster-look-alike. being road-savvy, i thought i'd be in the clear leaving the GPS at home and following my remembered way into the beer-soaked streets of clarendon. that was a great thought, however i forgot to include in that line of thinking that i don't actually go bar hopping in arlington, nor do i have any idea where the bar in question was...hilarity ensues.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">three ladies, collectively dressed to kill, slipped into my pt cruiser and within moments we were on our way. as a plan enthusiast i found it odd how excited i was to arrive at a location that kept changing as we drove. first one bar- then the one across the street- now the one that's catty corner to the metro station...the texts poured in from the jordana-brewster-look-alike. every location given was within the same block or two and that fact kept my nerves at bay.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">our main goal was delivery of the birthday present. the jordana-brewster-look-alike had been out of the country all summer and this was my first chance to really <i>wow</i> her. in fact, it was my first time actually meeting her face to face. no pressure. after a 15 minute drive into arlington turned into a 45 minute tour of arlington we finally arrived at our destination. </span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">it's worth mentioning that the bar we were willingly seeking out was a straight one. in the past, i've had some challenging experiences in hetero clubs and bars but i'm trying to let go of my 'straight-club-hatin' ways. well- more honestly, this chick is a friggin' jordana-brewster-look-alike!! i would have stopped by anywhere to ensure she got her birthday hug.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">after elbowing our way through the entrance we were finally in sight of the dance floor. it was late- late enough that 80% of those dancing had sweat stains and a complete lack of basic motor skills. if i couldn't feel my ass cheeks the night would have been delightful. alas, my ass is a sensitive little sucker and i felt all of the man bulges and giant lady shoulder bags as they shimmied by. the dance floor was packed so we inched our way to the bar. it proved to provide little relief from the crowd but the promise of holding something in my hand was a comforting thought.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">those of you who aren't excessive drinkers understand my uneasiness when my hands are empty while standing bar-side. everyone sees my paws without a drip drop between them and thinks, "she needs a drink." who's to blame them for jumping to those conclusions? i'm in a bar...it's pretty clear that the intention of an establishment such as that is to drink. to help myself assimilate into the bar scene, i've adopted the habit of always holding a corona light in my hand- empty or full, in my hand it stays.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">try as i might to avoid the awkward it finds fun new ways to weave itself into my life. in attempts to play it cool, i told my friends we should stand stationary and wait for the jordana-brewster-look-alike to come around our way. this was a good call on two counts; one- we wouldn't have to bulldoze our way through a crowd and risk loosing each other, two- i wouldn't throw up on the short girls heads and have a panic attack while looking for my friend...WIN WIN!</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">i saw her gracefully bounce down the steps, smiling and saying hi to people along the way. <i>"guys! i found her! but i'll just wait until she wonders this way...i don't actually want hunt her down."</i> sure enough, within 10 minutes a hand cupped my back and a woman politely asked me if she could squeeze by. in true rico suave form i began smiling uncontrollably and saying bizarre, already established things. </span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">why when i'm nervous i slip into stating facts is still a mystery to me. <i>"ahh! there you are!"</i><i>"it's your birthday." </i>in case she wasn't aware, never mind all of her friends standing behind her tossing 'birthday shots' her way OR the fact that she invited me to her <b>birthday party</b>. <i>"this place is packed.</i>" she would have undoubtedly been lost without my assertions. thankfully i alerted her to her own location.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">fake-jordana-brewster, my friends and i chatted for a little while longer until our convo was disrupted by two polo-clad fellas. <i>"do you think we are douchebags?!</i>" they asked as the sweat and booze trickled out of their pores. i wouldn't normally judge strangers so harshly but the tenacity of these two was a bit much for me. maybe it was the one corona light talking but i gave 'em some sass.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">engaging with these drunk strangers wasn't the best move i've made recently. rather than causing them to scatter, my unparalleled wit (or the fact that we were rejecting them) kept them nestled close to our circle of five. </span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">i began rattling off the reasons why drunk people can be douchebags and one guy went on the attack. he grabbed my scarf, <i>"you know it's not winter. why are you wearing this scarf? it's silly."</i></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">at a lesbian bar, i would have been showered with compliments on the classic black kerchief tied round my neck. i told my inebriated new friend that i was on the pulse of fashion and he didn't understand. indeed he didn't- he then went into a tirade on how 'you don't need clothes to be beautiful'. "<i>that scarf isn't you. those clothes don't make you beautiful- you make you beautiful..."</i></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">as much as i wanted to hear him out and accept his compliments (let's face it- we can all use a pick-me-up), his bloodshot eyes and the faint smell of vomit reminded me that he was wasted. the <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">jordana-brewster-look-alike rushed to my defense. grabbing my scarf she shouted, </span>"do you know what this means? it means her dick is bigger than yours.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">" </span></i></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></i></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">for a split second i'm pretty sure he thought i was a M2F trans but then i clarified,</span>"i'm aware of the fact that you are trying to be philosophical but all you are really saying is that we should all be naked. that's a really neat thought sir, but you are barking up the wrong tree- i'm gay."</i></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">being a mature adult he then called me a douchebag and gave me a firm scowl. i went on to remind him that any number of the ladies dancing around would gladly service him later; that our disinterest in dick was no slight to him but the damage was done, his ego crushed for the moment.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">it would be easy to look back on the night and remember nothing but the adventure-filled drive and the 15 minutes spent giving the fake-jordana-brewster her birthday present. but where's the fun in denying all of the fun pickles that life puts us in? </span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">rolling with the punches this weekend was something i'm proud to say i did with relative ease. stepping out of my comfort zone both physically and emotionally was a tough pill to swallow but with friends as smooth and thirst-quenching as mine, it was no sweat...aside from those drenched in it at the bar.</span></div>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1943424657885597268.post-60519061033983442572010-09-02T16:54:00.001-04:002010-09-02T17:26:22.272-04:00epic high fives<div align="center"><b><span style="font-size:85%;">epic high fives</span></b><br /><i><span style="font-size:85%;">a thought to pick you up</span></i></div><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 304px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 277px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://forum.openlabs.com/uploads/1229454762/gallery_1516_5_2098.jpg" border="0" /><br /><i></i><span style="font-size:85%;">hating thursday simply because it's not friday is <strong>no way</strong> to muddle through the week. every day should be praised <em>(except mondays- they always suck).</em> daily we all should try and focus on the threads of hope, humanity, and hilarity.<br /><br />if you are more of a pessimist and find my unusually chipper demeanor annoying- you're an ass, lighten up sunshine. but even the negative nancy's of the world could use a smile. who doesn't enjoy smiling? <em>(that's a stupid question. sometimes smiles, particularly from strangers, are unnerving. picture this- elderly man in loose fitting sweatpants and a beater looks at you from across the bus. his smile stretches from ear to ear. after returning the smile you note both his hands are down his pants- creepy right? that was of no relevance...i'm sorry)</em> point being- we all can use some hints on how to bring more happiness into our worlds.<br /><br />today's hint? </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><em>high fives, man.<br /><br /></em></strong></span><span style="font-size:85%;">nothing quite compares to the joy one gets after a solid clap of the perfect high five. </span><span style="font-size:85%;">after locking eyes, i square up with my partner and while facing each other, our shoulders align. just prior to the approach my arm is fashionably draped over the corresponding shoulder. another breath won't enter my lungs until the one across from me mirrors my sassy stance. some might jump from this point directly into the arch just before the high five. those who do that are fucking high fivin' amateurs.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;">the one, lone key in the making of a perfect high five is the momentary glance preceding the high five itself. it's all about checking out those 'bows. often called 'the most awkward part of the body aside from knees' or 'wenis', the elbow holds all the cards. one fleeting glance in tandem with your high-fiving-friend ensures that you will get the perfect clap- every time.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;">after arching back and hurling my heart and soul into my approach- it happened. *CLAP* that sound; a thunderous, meaty, slap of skin. that feeling; epic, rad, perfection. that connection- open palm, open heart. no debate necessary- high fives can't be beat.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;">if you find yourself feeling a little bit low today, i remind you to smile and find joy in this moment by ramming your hand into anothers. with one solitary slap you can bring an explosion of bright light into your world. if you are too lost in the darkness and feel that no one is around you, fear not- high fives are always possible, no matter how deep the depression. as long as you have two mitts at your disposal <em>(even if the both belong to you),</em> you've got yourself some magic.<br /><br />up high- down low.<br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;">happy day- fo' sho.</span>ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08381817928446553225noreply@blogger.com3