in recent years



scott disick or how i learned to stop bitching and love a kardashian?!

Do you know how hard it is to write about something when you can’t talk about it?

Do you? I mean do you really understand what it’s like to try to put FEELINGS and STUFF into WORDS when you can’t actually talk about the things that are causing the FEELINGS and the STUFF?! Because it sucks. IT SUCKS A LOT. And it turns the thing that you do to feel better (ie: writing) into a thing you never ever want to do because it’s TOO HARD.

(This is why there was no Movie Monday this week. SORRY.)

I am waiting on some things right now. Two pretty big things that are sort of complicated to talk about. Things that I and other people involved aren’t particularly ready to articulate. For good reasons and stuff! But those things are DEEPLY impacting the life I’m leading right now because they’re trapping me and they’re making me unstable and they’re causing all this FLUX.

And because I have anxiety and a variety of other issues, they are REALLY stressing me out. And I’m caving to my anxiety. And I’m keeping terrible hours. And I’m doing all this while trying to freelance (and find freelance) and blog and twitter and tumblr and keep up with my 366 projects and look for a full-time job and not be a terrible girlfriend/daughter/friend/sister/housewife. It doesn’t sound like a lot, but HO BOY. It is.

It is also deeply impacting my ability to be funny/insightful/creative/awesome. And, like, do you understand what that means? It means I’m BORING. It means I feel broken. My humor is SUCH an important part of who I am and what I think of myself and the only laughing I’ve been causing lately has been because I have a tendency to fart at really delightful/inopportune moments. JOKES WHAT ARE JOKES?!

Like, I spent ten minutes with my girlfriend tonight RELIVING DUMB JOKES I TOLD A YEAR AGO because I haven’t said anything funny in MONTHS, it feels like. She would argue otherwise (because she’s a good girlfriend) but she would also be HARD FUCKING PRESSED to remember something hilarious I’ve said recently.

I’m not the kind of person that’s hilarious on my own. Like, I am never going to be a stand-up. I am never going to stand somewhere and just BE FUNNY. I don’t tell jokes. I’m funny when I’m responding to things around me. I’m hilarious in conversation. And the reason it’s not happening is because I haven’t SEEN anyone since basically December 10th.

December 10th! One outing aside, I’ve been devoid of non-girlfriend or familial companionship and I think it’s finally starting to destroy me. I feed off of my friends. And they’re not around for me to feed on! And that’s not all my fault and it’s certainly not all their fault. I mean, I don’t get out of my pajamas. Do you know what that’s like? (No… probably because you’re, like, a functional human being with a job.) It’s gross. And it’s weird. And sometimes the thought of even TRYING to get dressed and leave the house is so daunting it’s embarrassing.

But I’ve gotten comfortable in my pajama cocoon. I feel safe. And neither my parents nor m girlfriend judges me. And so I let it feed itself. And the other day I found myself stretched out in bed, petting a dog, and watching one of those Kardashian shows.

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dear future ash…

Dear Future Ash,

I’m writing to you today out of desperation.

No, that’s not right. Out of hope. Hope and desperation are so close, you know, so close. They are opposite sides of the same coin.

I am writing to you today in hope. In the most faithful, hungry hope. I am writing to you because I need to know that you’re okay. I need to know that you’re making it through. That this part that I’m in right now is over.

I know you can’t respond and that’s okay. You’re only a sparkle right now, a glimmer, a figment of desperate need, but that’s all you need to be.

For you, it’s somewhere in the second half of 2012. Not too far from now. It’s easier to see you that way. We’ve probably got a lot of the same clothes still and the beaten and loved 3GS you’re reading this on and the same girlfriend snoring behind nearby in bed. (Or maybe in your time she’s awake because you’re awake at a reasonable hour instead of three am and you’re having mutual internet time and it’s lovely.) I know you’re still making the same dumb fart jokes on the internet that I’m making now.

I hope you have a job, Future Ash. One that doesn’t make you miserable and that respects your ideas and efforts. I hope it makes you happy or at least doesn’t make you crazy. I hope you life is settled because right now… it’s not. It’s really not. I hope that everyone is settled. And wherever, however, that works out is good and safe.

I hope you’re comfortable. I hope you’re cooking more and taking your iron and eating more greens and remembering to take your pictures every day. I hope you’re sticking to the posts you want to make here and that you’re reading and writing more. I hope you’re still throwing yourself into pop culture things enthusiastically and with joy because I’ve just rediscovered how wonderful that can be and how much I’ve missed it. I hope you’re sticking out all this hard work I’ve been doing to Unfuck Our Habitat and that it’s making you feel like a grown-up still and giving you a sense of control.

Future Ash, I hope you’re happier than I am. I hope you’re less anxiety-stricken. I hope you’ve embraced change and banished the word FLUX from your experience. I can say I hope you’ve got it all figured out, but it’s the middle of January and even if I’m talking to the Future Ash of December 2012, that’s a hell of a lot to ask.

I hope you’re hugging people more. And spending time with them. And reaching out to them even when they’re not reaching out to you. I hope you’re asking for help when you need it. I hope you’re still not giving up. I hope you remember how bad it is right now and appreciate how good I hope it is for you then.

Future Ash, it’s not all doom and gloom here now. I don’t want you to think that or think your memories are tainted. There are wonderful things, even if they’re small and hard to remember — forgettable — from where you are now. There’s Sherlock and friends that want to hang out with you even though you’re having a hard time leaving the house. There’s a wonderful, supportive, incredible partner who respects and loves and treats you so much better than you deserve. (I hope you’re paying her back tenfold for these hard times, Future Ash. She deserves so, so much.) There are parents who you not only love, but LIKE, a sister who’s also one of your most important friends. There’s Disneyland. And pets. And a bed that comforts you in a visceral way that makes your heart feel less brittle and your bones feel a little bit more brave.

Future Ash, I’ve got a lot to live for right now, but the glue holding it together is hope. Hope that 27 is better. Hope that your life is different than mine. Hope that next Christmas won’t feel like the last. Hope that you are where you want to be.

So keep this letter for me, Future Ash, and when we meet we can talk it over. You can tell me which bits I got right and I can remind you why you should be grateful even when I got it all wrong.

Here’s hoping. See you soon.

– Ash

movie monday #2: cowboys and aliens

My girlfriend and I stopped at the 711 closest to our house on Sunday night in a mild panic that we hadn’t watched anything for me to write about today. We’d been gone all weekend (Disneyland! Then pulling the Christmas lights down at her mom’s house because we are Good People Who Are Helpful.) and she didn’t want me to go to the movies without her on Monday PLUS there is NOTHING out right now. Dead zone misery. So we stopped at the 711 and I gave her three options: Apollo 18, Cowboys and Aliens, and Warrior. Desired in that order. And they had Cowboys and Aliens, so that’s what we ended up with. [Spoilers!]

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good shit i recently liked: january 6, 2012

Good Shit I Recently Liked:

Almost Done with Christmas and Christmas Day (Rae Hartsock @ Say It Ain’t So) — Those decorations! The pups! My dream home!

Ranked: Every Saturday Night Live Cast Member Ever, From Worst to Best (Phil Nugent @ Nerve) — MOST of these are WILDLY WRONG, but I still enjoyed reading it a lot and it brought on a lively debate on my Facebook.

Hard to Find Week Pre-Party: Cover Girl Crackle Laquer (The Polish Addict) — This one is hard to explain kind of. This blog is defunct and the post is from 2008, but I was looking for a swatch of some nail polish and I somehow ended up on a road ending at this post. A post where crackle finish polish was hard to find because it hadn’t been rebirthed. And where it apparently used to crackle way damn cooler than it does now. I JUST THOUGHT IT WAS A WEIRD TIME CAPSULE MOMENT OKAY, GOD.

It’s Okay to Be Neither (Melissa Bollow Tempel, via Together For Jackson County Kids) — Fantastic. Enough said.

Anne’s Things (Ranch Dressing with Eartha Kitsch) — This was so moving/beautiful! The relics of our lives are so small and powerful.

20 Dated Celebrity Endorsements from Over a Decade Ago (BuzzFeed — These are just the BEST. The late 90s and early 00s were so ugly and metallic and just awful. So great.

Louis CK’s Shameful Dirty Comedy (Frank Chimero) — This is ridiculous on point. And it’s exactly why I love Louis CK so so much.

movie monday #1: young adult


MOVIE MONDAY! The gf (CRYSTAL. I think y’all can probs remember that by now.) will be going to/deliberately watching a movie every week so that I can write about it! 31 Days of Festive-Ass Flicks (Don’t worry! There are fascinating wrap up posts in the works still.) just wasn’t enough and I have to keep doing it. Every week. All year.

We saw Young Adult today at the resident crappy theater (It was an Edwards and is now a Regal and we don’t even GO there, but my aunt gave me a Fandango gift card… two or three years ago? And I figured we should probably finally use it. Only to get there and have them be like… “You have to use this on the website,” which it doesn’t even SAY ON THE CARD. [Seriously, it was like, USE AT ANY REGAL, EDWARDS BLALLRGAJDJKF ETC.] And so we had to download the app and order the tickets and then shove the phone at the cashier. And they are SO LUCKY I always show up 45 minutes early, I SWEAR I WOULD’VE JUMPED SOMEONE.)

Uh, spoilers. BIG ONES.

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