TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT

“She grew up on the side of the road
Where the church bells ring and strong love grows
She grew up good
She grew up slow
Like American honey

Steady as a preacher
Free as a weed
Couldn't wait to get goin'
But wasn't quite ready to leave
So innocent, pure, and sweet
American honey

There's a wild, wild whisper
Blowing in the wind
Calling out my name like a long lost friend
Oh I miss those days as the years go by
Oh nothings sweeter than summer time
And American honey

Get caught in the race
Of this crazy life
Trying to be everything can make you lose your mind
I just wanna go back in time
To American honey, yea

There's a wild, wild whisper
Blowing in the wind
Calling out my name like a long lost friend
Oh I miss those days as the years go by
Oh nothing's sweeter than summer time
And American honey

Gone for so long now
I gotta get back to her somehow”

~ American Honey by Lady Antebellum (Click here to listen.)

Figuring out who we are and what makes us tick is one of life’s greatest challenges.  I tend to be a little more self-aware than most.  I’m not sure if that’s a blessing or a curse.  Still, we all get a little lost sometimes and need to find our way back.  This is the story of where I’ve been, who I am, and where I want to be. 

I’m a girl that grew up in a small town with a family who loved me unconditionally and encouraged me to be anything I wanted to be.  I grew up in church and was constantly surrounded by good Godly people who wanted me to know His love.  I grew up believing that I could do anything. I was smart enough to know the rest of the world didn’t grow up in my warm fuzzy little bubble.  I couldn’t wait to get out there and experience all the world had to offer me, but at the same time I was completely terrified.  Like the song says, I couldn’t wait to get goin’, but I wasn’t quite ready to leave.  I was insistent that I needed to go away to college.  When it came time to go, I was so scared that my parents had to drag me to school literally kicking and screaming.  As it turns out, college was a good thing.  Imagine that?!  I learned a lot… more about life than anything else.  I made mistakes.  I formed lifelong friendships.  I got sick, and my life was changed forever.  My eyes were opened to a world I didn’t know even existed.  I learned hard lessons.  I learned to take care of myself.  I learned the value of a dollar.  I learned how lucky I was to have grown up on the side of the road where the church bells ring and strong love grows.  I learned that strong character and values are essential.  I learned about honesty and heartbreak.  I learned who I am.

Sometimes we do get caught in the race of this crazy life and we need to take a minute to remind ourselves who we are and where we came from.  I’m not perfect, but I’m happy.  I’m thankful for the people and experiences that helped shape me.

I’m a Christian. I’m funny.  I’m smart.  I’m kind and compassionate.  I’m stubborn and strong-willed.  I’m creative.  I’m a dreamer.  I’ve got a wild imagination.  I’ve got a temper.  I’m nerdy.  I’m independent. I like to be in control, but I want to be with someone who will take charge and can take care of me.  I have strong opinions about everything, and I don’t hesitate to share them.  I think the color of a person’s skin should be totally irrelevant.  I think we should all be free to love whoever we want without judgment.  I struggle with faith, but I believe God has a plan for me.  I work hard and I play hard.  I value my freedom.  I don’t like to be told what to do.  I’m funky, quirky, and occasionally awkward.  I’m funny.  I don’t like going to the bar every weekend… I don’t even like beer.  I like going to the movies, game night, theme parties, sharing a meal with friends, and road trips.  Most of the time I don’t care what anyone else thinks about me, but sometimes I do.  I want to be with a man who wants to be with me and only me.  I like being comfortable. I’m a jeans, t-shirt, and flip flops kind of girl.  I think it’s fun to get dressed up every now and then, but only when I feel like it.  I love music.  My family and friends are a priority.  I’m a big believer in communication.  I want to talk about all of my girly feelings, and I want to be with someone who isn’t afraid to share theirs with me.  I believe kids should be kids.  I think it’s our job as adults to set a good example, encourage them, teach them right from wrong, and keep them safe.  I think honesty is the best policy.  I cry during movies, songs, and commercials… even when I’m not sad.  I seek adventure.  I volunteer.  I have a heart for those who are hurting.  I wish for world peace.  I’m a diabetic with a sweet tooth.  I’m always going to be curvy… but I still want to be healthy.  I’m passionate.  I’m feisty.  I forgive easily.  I love freely… too freely often times.  I talk a lot.  I’m smart and clever.  I sometimes say things I don’t mean, and instantly regret it.  I apologize too often.  I expect too much of others.  I’m sentimental.  I’m confident in my career and a little insecure the rest of the time.  I’m emotional.  I’m a liberal Republican.  I believe we should all be free to be ourselves.  I support our military, but not war.  I believe in being faithful.  I love to dress up for Halloween.  I love giving presents even more than I love getting them.  I’m thoughtful.  I like making others feel special.  I like being the life of the party.  I’m a planner.  I’m not in any rush, but I do want to be married someday.  If I have kids, I want to adopt.  I take pictures of everything.  I like nature, but I’m allergic to it… literally.  I wiggle in my sleep.  I’m fearless.  I have a hard time trusting people.  I’m still learning to love myself and forgive myself for my mistakes. I want to surround myself with people who love me just as I am.  

So, this is me, take it or leave it.

An Ode to Pajamas

Who doesn't love a cozy pair of pjs?! My love affair with pajamas is the real deal. I have an impressive collection of pjs. I have cute pajamas, cozy pajamas, sexy pajamas, and what I like to call daytime pajamas... those are the pjs you wear around all day when you're when you're busy being a lazy hermit.  In fact, I'm wearing my daytime pajamas as I write this ode to my favorite snuggly duds.

The list of reasons to love pajamas is endless! Here are a few of my favorites:

They make you feel good... when you put them on it's instantly soothing and relaxing... magical!

They're comfortable... and generally a little stretchy which is helpful when you need a little extra room for your food baby.

They keep you warm... or cool depending on the season.

They're FUN-ctional... they serve all of the above noted functions, and they do it in style! I have striped pajamas, polka-dot pajamas, silky pajamas, sparkly pajamas, animal print pajamas, holiday themed pajamas, patriotic pajamas, and lacy pajamas.

FACT: One can never have too many pairs of pajamas! So today, I encourage you to follow my lead and give thanks for your pajamas! Show your appreciation by spending as much time as possible in them this weekend!

Glittery Man Pants

The bond between sisters is hard to explain. My little sister is my best friend. She's the strongest and most interesting person I know. She's cool and I love her. Basically, I want to be just like her when I grow up! We are opposites in almost every way you can imagine... and yet every now and then we have these moments where we are thinking the exact same thing at the exact same time. Our family affectionally refers to this phenomenon as sharing the brain.

Tonight, we were sharing the brain. I was watching the CMAs. She was watching the CMAs. Neither of us knew what the other one was doing. Luke Bryan hops on stage to sing his catchy little tune and immediately I reach for my phone to call Katie. As I'm reaching it starts ringing. I answer and in unison we say "Oh wow! Are you watching..." and "Can you even believe..." followed up with "...those awful glittery man pants!" We went on to have a ten minute conversation discussing the glittery man pants. To sum it up, Luke Bryan = HOT! Glittery man pants = NOT! His performance and the commercial break came to an end and the show went on.  Our conversation was filled with outrageous laughter and then ended with an abrupt "It's back on! Okay bye!" Ultimately, we decided that my brother-in-law, Keaton, is totally getting a pair of glittery man pants for Christmas. Lucky. 

Side Note: The glittery man pants were so scary there weren't even any pictures available online yet... give it a day or two and Google... Luke Bryan CMA performance 2011. Yikes. 

I'm too pretty to die in Oklahoma!

I can think of a few places worse than Oklahoma, but most of them are third world countries. I hate Oklahoma... not just a little bit, a lot. Apparently, Oklahoma feels the same way about me because it's trying to kill me. So far tonight I have survived an earthquake, a tornado, a flash flood, and enough wild game to feed one of those third world countries I mentioned earlier. Did I mention that I hate Oklahoma? Luckily, I have exceptional balance, I'm a good swimmer, and I have a gift for deer whispering... similar to dog whispering only cooler! I'm stuck here until Thursday evening... which can't come soon enough. Assuming I survive, you'll know I've crossed back over into the promise land (aka Texas) when you hear me joyfully yelling hallelujah as I speed across the state line. Did I mention that I hate Oklahoma? Is it Thursday yet?

These Boots Were Made For Walkin’

My parents got engaged just a few months after they started dating.  They knew they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together right away, but they waited to tie the knot longer than one might expect given their short courtship.  It wasn’t because they weren’t sure.  It wasn’t because they planned a big extravagant wedding.  It was because my Paw-Paw wanted to have a new pair of boots made for the wedding.  True story.  My parent's engagement lasted the exact length of time it takes to have a handcrafted pair of men’s boots fitted and sewn.  Texans in general take boots very seriously.  My family takes it to a whole new level.  My Paw-Paw has his boots handmade… and they aren’t cheap.  You could put a kid through college on what he has spent on boots in his lifetime.  He’s a very frugal man, but he understands the value in a good pair of boots.  That has been passed down through the generations.  His great grandson is two and already owns a pair of square toed Anderson Bean boots.  For those of you that aren’t in the know when it comes to boots, Anderson Bean boots are like the Rolls-Royce of boots… the closest thing you can get to a one of a kind handmade boot.  Paw-Paw and Daddy have always made sure all of our boot needs were met.  There was no style, color, or brand that we were denied over the years… even when our request was absurd.  In the first grade, I was convinced that I could not settle for a plain red pair of boots like every other girl in my class… I needed a “special” pair of boots!  They were special alright.  They were bright yellow and I thought I looked gooood!  I showed up to school sportin’ my special boots and immediately, Ashley Jacobs (you guys may know him now as Michael) dubbed me “Mustard Feet” and it stuck.  I was devastated that no one else could see the beauty in my bright yellow boots!  They were magical and unique… and mustard yellow.  I’m sure my parents saw the whole “Mustard Feet” thing coming from a mile away.  As adults, we anticipate things like that.  Still, my Paw-Paw bought me those special mustard yellow boots without hesitation, and I rocked ‘em like they were goin’ out of style.  Anyone who knows me well realizes I never really outgrew my tendency towards all things flashy and different. 

I'm all grown up now, and I still follow in my Paw-Paw’s boot shaped footsteps.  You need two pairs of boots… one pair for every day, and one pair fancy enough to be fit for a wedding.  I’ve become a bit more sensible about the color of my boots, but they’re no less flashy than they were in the first grade.  Even my every day boots secretly scream for attention… under my jeans you’ll find red uppers with purple stitching.  Boring on the bottom, funky on top!

My fancy boots are a bit more subdued.  You won’t find their color in a rainbow, but they’ve got their own spicy flare… they’re a brand new pair of Lucchese Vaquero snip-toe boots that make my feet happy and my heart sing!

Here’s the most important thing about boots… you can wear them anywhere with anything and you’ll always look hot!  You’ll also be comfortable, and that’s at the top of my list of priorities when purchasing new shoes.  I wear mine with jeans, dresses, shorts, and yesterday when I couldn’t find my flip flops I slipped them on with my pajama pants and drove to the Sonic for a Diet Coke… yeah, I looked hot!  Trust me.

Moral of the story: If you don’t own at least one pair of boots, you should go ahead and ask Jesus for forgiveness when you say your prayers tonight.       

Ain’t Nothin’ Sweet ‘Bout How I Hold My Gun

What does your family do for fun?  Mine plays with guns… in a responsible totally legal kind of way.  I’ve never shot a pistol before (until today)… truthfully, I’ve never shot any kind of gun before.  I’m always the nerdy kid sitting in the shade reading while everyone else blows through the ammo.  To say I have a healthy respect for guns would be an understatement.  They scare me… so much so that until now, I didn’t even like being around them.  I’ve always been curious what it would feel like to shoot one, and it looks like fun… assuming you can get past the fear that you’ll accidentally shoot yourself or someone else.  So today, I went to the Bexar County Shooting Range with my aunt and uncle.  Turns out good aim runs in the family!  I’m not one to brag, but I’m good… like real good… like pity the fool who tries to mess with me good!  A picture is worth a thousand words: 

Playing with guns is fun!  Playing with guns is empowering!  Playing with guns is also really dangerous if you’re not careful, so take it seriously.  I shot two different kinds of guns… a Glock 27, 40 caliber semi-automatic pistol and a Ruger LCP, 380 caliber semi-automatic pistol.  The Ruger is tiny, cute, and sassy… it’s also deceptively hard to handle.  The Glock is bigger and easier to handle.  Plus, it kinda makes you feel like a real BAD A$$ when you shoot it… pardon the language, but there’s really no other way to describe it.  If you’re not clear on what feeling like a BAD A$$ looks likes, here are a few pictures:

The best part about going to the shooting range is that it requires 100% of your attention and focus.  That’s a beautiful thing… no time to dwell on any of life’s troubles or the laundry that awaits you at home!  I was nervous and my body was tense, but it was strangely relaxing… all the junk going on in my head was completely silenced… totally peaceful.  It’s kind of odd to think that aiming a gun and shooting to kill is a fun, relaxing, peaceful pastime, but it was like going to my mental happy place… in a good way, not in a creepy way… no need to be alarmed.  There are also some real safety benefits to knowing how to properly use a gun.  As a single girl who travels for a living, it’s not a terrible idea to have one handy as a means of protecting myself.  As it turns out, guns aren’t scary… if you know how to use one properly and responsibly.  Meaning, it’s not okay to pull out your gun and wave it around to let the lady who cut you off in traffic know that you find her poor driving to be mildly offensive and annoying.  It should only be used as a means of self-protection or for sport… and aiming at a person’s feet making them jump around to avoid your bullets is not a sport… although I cannot lie, I can think of a few people I’d “play with” if it were a sport…

Bottom line, I’ve really been missing out all these years!  I’m asking Santa Claus for a Glock, a Concealed Handgun License (CHL), and sassy hot pink pair of those ear protector thingies for Christmas!  BANG! BANG! BANG!     

Swagga Like Us: Why Texans LOVE Texas!

I’m in a Lone Star state of mind today, and I’ve been thinkin’ about all the things that make Texas so great!  Texans have a special kind of pride in our state that’s hard to explain to those who don’t live here… nobody has swagga like us!  As Robert Earl Keen likes to say, “The Road Goes on Forever and the Party Never Ends!” My list of things I love about Texas is a lot like the road… it could go on forever…

The Dallas Cowboys, The Texas Rangers, The Dallas Mavericks, The Dallas Stars, The Houston Texans, and The Houston Astros are all proud to call Texas home!

The bluebonnet is our state flower.  They’re kind of a big deal…

Friday Night Lights! No other state takes high school football as seriously as we do.  Heck, most of our high school football teams could give the Houston Texans a run for their money! ;-)

We’re home to the Live Music Capitol of the World! ATX knows how to rock, roll, and honky tonk! For that, we are so very thankful!

Willie Nelson… enough said.

We used to be our own Republic.  If we get tired of playing nice with the other states, we have the right to secede.  Awesome.

Everything is bigger in Texas… including our economy.  It’s the 14^th largest economy in the world!  That’s bigger than the economy of most countries.  True story.

We don’t have a personal income tax, and you can buy a house twice the size of what you can buy in California or New York for about half the price.  Who doesn’t love a bargain?!

Texas is home to some of the finest establishments of higher education in the country. Hook ‘em! Guns up! Whoop! Sic ‘em!

We’ve got mountains, canyons, beaches, rivers, woods, and everything in between. 

We’re friendly.  We wave.  We say yes ma’am and no sir.  Basically, we have manners and that’s not universal. 

We love guns, and we know how to use ‘em!

The ladies of Texas can skin a deer in the morning and look like the quintessential southern bell by the time the sun sets.  Speaking of sunsets…

We’ve got the most gorgeous sunsets in the world.  Almost all of the sunsets used in television and film are shot right here in Texas... that means even our sunsets are famous!

Our food will make your taste buds high five each other!  Some like it hot, we like it extra spicy with a delicious burst of flavor for good measure!  The best part… it’s served in Texas sized portions!

Simply put, we’ve got history… an entire text book full.  Texas History is part of the core curriculum for Texas students.  We’re as proud of our past as we are of our state!

There are so many things to love about Texas that it would be nearly impossible to list them all!  Bottom line, Texas is AWESOME!  If you don’t agree, you’re clearly from the portion of the map simply noted as NOT TEXAS.

Confessions of a Dirty Girl

My apartment is a reflection of my life.  Some days it’s so clean and organized that people wonder if anyone actually lives here… today is not that day.  Today is the day that it’s so messy and dirty that I can’t figure out how I ever let it get so out of control.  As I sit here writing this blog, I’m surrounded by chaos.  Laundry is piled up everywhere… some of it clean and some of it dirty.  Dishes are in the sink, on the counter, on the table… everywhere but in the dishwasher.  In fact, I’m pretty sure there is more than one half empty Sonic cup sitting on my bathroom cabinet… don’t ask.  I can’t even figure out how they got there.  There are not one, not two, but three suitcases sitting in the dining room that are half unpacked… or half packed depending on how you look at it.  There are shoes in the living room, in my office, in the bathroom, in my bedroom, on the treadmill… and there’s a pair of boots sitting downstairs by the front door that someone borrowed about three months ago.  I’ve been in and out that door a hundred times since then, and still they sit there waiting patiently to be returned to their rightful home… the closet.  Trash is picked up at the curb right outside my apartment every Tuesday and Friday, but all of the trashcans are full.  My apartment is so messy that I called the cleaning lady and postponed my last cleaning because I didn’t want her to see it like this.  That’s bad when you feel like you need to clean before the cleaning lady can come clean.  It’s like a nasty downward spiral.  It starts getting messy because I’m so busy traveling that I don’t have time to do anything but unpack, repack, and leave again.  Then, when I do have time to do something about it, I just don’t care anymore.  Now it’s at a critical stage.  It’s at the “so dirty it’s making me unhappy” stage.  It rarely reaches this point, and I’ve discovered that this stage often times coincides with my mood about things other than the cleanliness of my humble abode.  Life has gotten kind of messy and confusing, and the more messy and confusing it gets the messier my apartment gets.  I found my stapler in the refrigerator yesterday.  That’s bad.  Really bad.  90% of the time, my apartment is adorable, CLEAN, and organized as efficiently as only someone as OCD as myself could achieve.  The other 10% of the time it looks like a war zone.  When my life gets messy I shut down.  I don’t do laundry.  I don’t do dishes.  I don’t cook.  I obviously don’t clean.  I just sit around in the midst of the chaos and feel bad about the fact my messy life and my messy apartment aren’t living up to my expectations.  This is usually the point where my sister stages an intervention.  She comes to town, we clean, I cry, and then we move on like it never happened.  I’m trying a new approach this time.  I’m going to clean on my own today… sans intervention! At the very least, it will be one less thing to sit around worrying and feeling bad about.  Wish me luck!

LEMON / lem·on / noun: A yellow, oval citrus fruit with thick skin and fragrant, acidic juice.

How do you know what to do when you don’t know what to do? How do you fix something you didn’t realize was broken? How do you become something you didn’t know you needed to be? How do you adjust your vision of the future to be the opposite of what you imagined? How do you find a new path when you never wanted to leave the old path? How do you acknowledge the truth when you’re not even willing to share it with anyone else? How do you forgive someone when it never occurred to you they weren‘t worthy of your trust in the first place? How do you accept something when you don’t understand it? How do you undo things that have already been done?

Sometimes life hands you lemons, and sometimes it hurls them at you when you least expect it. One day you’re strolling along wondering what you did to deserve such good fortune, and the next you’re curled up in a ball crying and trying to figure out how you got from point A to point B. You’re wishing you had never started out at point A so you didn’t have to understand how truly painful point B is capable of being. You feel a complicated mixture of sadness, anger, confusion, and desperation. All of which you would give nearly anything to make disappear. You wonder what comes next, and you know that no matter what it is, it isn’t going to be easy. You’re full of questions with no answers, and no matter how hard you search for those answers, many times you will never find them. You pray and you ask for guidance, faith, and patience none of which actually make the situation any less painful in the moment. You then realize you don’t even know what exactly it is you need to be praying for so you simply pray for God to figure it out and help you to accept it. You spend an unfortunate amount of time staring off into space thinking blank thoughts in effort to avoid any real thoughts. You realize a whole day has passed and you never got out of your pajamas, and you hope that somehow you can get away with doing a whole bunch of nothing again the next day. You’re paralyzed by the thought of having to accept what has happened, make a plan, and move on with life. Things don’t just seem overwhelming, they truly are overwhelming. You cry, and then you cry, and then you cry some more.

Eventually a day comes when all those tears, and all that prayer have brought you to a place of acceptance. It doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten. It doesn’t necessarily mean you’ve forgiven. It just means you want to. Until that day comes, you just have to believe that there is some lesson to be learned… the lemonade that comes from all those lemons. In the moment, that’s hard to see and even harder to believe, but it’s true. God has a plan. We don’t have to like it, and we don’t have to understand it. We just have to be willing to accept that the path He calls us to take will always be worth the change, worth the risk, worth the effort, simply because He has chosen it for us. When He finally gets us where He wants us, we’ll wonder why we wasted so much time and energy being upset and trying to figure out why we didn’t get what we thought we wanted. We will be sitting around sipping on the most delicious lemonade imaginable, and we won’t be able to imagine anything better… it’ll be hard to remember what it was we thought was so great about where we were before.

“Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him and He will make your paths straight.” Proverbs 3:5-6

Excuse me sir, could you help me with my baggage?

I took a trip to Florida a couple weeks ago… I also took along a 66 lb. suitcase. 66 seems pretty precise right? It is. They weighed it at the airport and charged me an extra $50 because it was grotesquely overweight. If it had been flying on the plane instead of under the plane, they would have referred to it as a customer of size. I really thought I was doing everyone (and by everyone, I mean my male traveling companions) a favor by cramming all of my necessities into one bag versus several. Obviously I had no intention of being the one to cart that beast all over Florida! Aside from the overweight baggage charge, my “Excuse me sir, could you help me with my baggage?” plan worked out splendidly… until I got home…



As it turns out, it hadn’t really occurred to me that while I had strapping manly men to help me with my baggage as I gallivanted across the country, I was on my own when I got back home. As I sat at the top of the stairs cursing my 66 lb. suitcase, I began to think about a different kind of baggage… the emotional kind. It’s no fun either. I’ll admit it, I’ve got some baggage… and don’t even think about pretending you don’t have a nice set of baggage too! Emotional baggage is messy, painful, and tricky to handle. Really, the best we can do is hope that those who love us will learn to accept our baggage… and in return, we should accept theirs. When you think about it, that nice set of baggage is part of what makes you who you are and vice versa. Most of our baggage is filled up with things like heartbreak, regret, anger, distrust, jealously, secrets, and pretty much every other ugly thing you can think of to cram inside those bags and hide. Here’s where it gets tricky… you can’t let all of those ugly things from your past ruin your future. You can’t refuse to love again because you’ve had your heart broken. You can’t refuse to trust others because you’ve been betrayed. You can’t be jealous when you haven’t been given a reason. What you can do… what you MUST do… is try to accept your baggage, learn your lesson, and move on into the future fearlessly. The things inside that baggage hurt you once. Don’t let them continue to hurt you over and over again by damaging new relationships and filling you with fear and doubt. Life is scary. Life is also an incredible adventure so don’t let your baggage get in the way of allowing you to share that incredible adventure with people you love. When you trust in God’s plan it all starts to come together. Then, it is as simple as asking for help… God will take care of the baggage for you. He’s awesome like that… and He won’t charge you an overweight baggage fee which is pretty generous of Him considering how much baggage we manage to accumulate!

Psychic Readings By Ashley

Fear is… scary. Duh! It’s also kind of paralyzing, confusing, and miserable. Fear is natural. As humans we all deal with it daily in all kinds of ways. We have teeny tiny fears, gianormous fears, and everything in between. Over the years I’ve discovered I’m not so great at dealing with my fears… especially the biggies. I can’t predict the future, and that makes my fears even more horrifying. I was lost a while back and came across this place:

I remember thinking at the time that if I were psychic, I wouldn’t be lost. To me, fear is kind of like being lost. You don’t have the answers, you don’t know how to get where you’re going, and it’s really frustrating. Thankfully, we don’t need a psychic from the wrong side of the tracks to guide our path, that’s God’s job. Remembering that God has it all under control is the hard part… especially when we’re dealing with fear. I’ve got a whole list of defense mechanisms that I use when I’m scared. I recognize them, but I’m not always good at putting a stop to them, stepping back from the situation, and letting God do His thing. I’m not alone in being fearful of the unknown, I’m generally just a bit more self aware than most people. I got scared today. I panicked just a smidge, I cried a lil bit, and I prayed a whole lot! None of the afore mentioned coping mechanisms did all that much to make me feel better, and deep down I know that it doesn’t matter how scared I am or how hard I try to fight back that fear by employing every defense mechanism in my vast arsenal. The reality is that God’s got a plan, and my silly little insignificant fears aren’t going to get in His way. Sometimes the answer is as simple as a deep breath and a few baby steps, and sometimes the answer isn’t simple at all. The trick is to channel your fear into some good old fashioned faith. Today‘s fear grew from something good… which sounds like an oxymoron for sure. Strangely enough, the majority of my fears are that way… mostly because I spend so much time worrying that my fear is going to create a situation where I screw up something really amazing by using all my not so clever fear fighting tactics. It’s a vicious cycle! In dwelling on today’s fears, I had an epiphany. Stop being scared of what lies ahead and simply enjoy right now. Not knowing how the story ends is terrifying for me (which seems odd given my tendency towards being a bit of a free spirit), but pushing aside those fears in favor of a little faith helps me remember that it doesn’t matter how they story ends as long as God is the one writing it...

Birds of a feather…

This posting could alternately be titled, “Ashley needs a gun for self protection because she‘s to dumb to use a map!”

When I first moved to San Antonio I needed to find a doctor. Seems simple enough right? So, I just asked around and scheduled an appointment based on a recommendation. Bad idea… really bad idea. I didn’t Google the address, I didn’t ask questions, I just hopped in the car, put the address in my GPS, and took off for the doctor’s office on the day of my appointment. I live in North San Antonio. When I passed downtown and took a left it should have been a red flag. Southeast San Antonio is about as sketchy as you can possibly get. Long story short, I cried all the way back to my side of town and vowed never to set foot on the Southeast side of town again… unless it was for pizza at Big Lou’s. Anyway, after that fateful day, one would have thought I’d learned my lesson. Always ask where something is located… Google and Yelp are your best friends, use them! Unfortunately, I’m a slow learner. I spent some time on the southeast side of town again today and here’s how it happened… I have a small Groupon addiction… and by small I actually mean completely out of control. A few weeks ago I bought a Groupon to have my hair feathered. I’ve been paying a fortune to have this done in my neighborhood for months now. Generally, I check out the business on Yelp before I purchase a Groupon to make sure I’m getting a good deal. This time however, I skipped Yelp and just clicked purchase. It was such a bargain! I figured it would be located close by or in Alamo Heights… mostly because I assumed that such services would only be offered in posh salons. You know what they say about assuming. For those of you that may not know, hair feathering is this new thing where girls like me who have an irrational fear of permanent hair dye embrace our inner wild child, channel Steven Tyler, and have feather extensions added to our hair. They’re fabulous and super sassy! Plus, you don’t have to wait on it to grow out like you do with hair color… which is a real bonus for impatient people like me. So, this afternoon I set out on my little adventure. I drove, and I drove, and I drove some more. As I approached downtown, I started to get a little twitchy. What had I done?! Sure enough, Fine Feather was located on the dreaded Southeast side of town. Yikes! I considered turning around and requesting a refund from Groupon, but the lure of a head full of colorful feathers simply could not be resisted. I thought perhaps I was lost and had entered the address incorrectly in my GPS when I pulled up here:

Then, I saw the sign cleverly marking this warehouse as the location of Fine Feather. Eek! I text my location to a friend with the instructions to call 911 if she didn’t hear from me in 20 minutes. One would think that if I felt the need to take this precaution, I would have had enough sense to get the heck out of dodge. Wrong. I ventured on into the warehouse area and encountered this:

Eventually I located Fine Feather (a small room with a record player, loads of feathers, and a woman named Rocio who was quite possibly stoned). All things considered, I will give her credit for having a nice selection of feathers:

I set down on the lone stool in the tiny room and let her get to work. In just a few short minutes she was finished and I was sporting a colorful array of feathers in my long locks!

As I sped back to my side of town, I reflected on the important lessons I learned from this little adventure:

#1 - GOOGLE! YELP! MAPQUEST! (It’s a shame I didn’t learn this lesson the first time.)
#2 - Don’t judge a book by it’s cover! I got a sweet deal on some fine feathers, and while Rocio may have been stoned, she was very friendly and quite adept at the whole feathering process. So much so, that I’ll probably go back when it’s time for more feathers!

It’s okay to talk to strangers... as long as they knit!

YELP! I love to share my opinions, and I have finally found people who actually want to hear them… or in this case read them! Do you Yelp? If not, what are you waiting for?! All the cool kids are doing it! So here’s the story of how I discovered Yelp, made a fabulous new friend, and joined the ranks of the Yelp Elite Squad…

Last summer, I made a spontaneous little trip to Laguna Beach, CA with a guy I was talking to… he’s really irrelevant to the story (If only had known that then! lol), but you need context… trust me. We had a layover in Phoenix and he was driving me nuts… like full on what have I gotten myself into completely bonkers kind of nuts. Simply put, he was a whiney traveler. So in a desperate attempt to change the subject I decided to throw out a random fact about myself and see where the conversation went from there. I KNIT. Yes, I did just admit that I knit. No, I’m not 80 years old. Knitting is very chic these days and all the trendy crafty girls are doing it! He, of course, was totally appalled. As we’re sitting there arguing about my claim that it’s totally cool to knit, he smarts off and I’ve finally had enough. So, I enthusiastically announce that he’s a <insert inappropriate adjective>. I go on to tell him I’m going to knit him a scarf with previously mentioned inappropriate adjective stitched on it. All the sudden I hear a little chuckle come from the seat directly behind us. Low and behold, it’s a fellow knitter! A sassy, smart, surprisingly awesome fellow knitter! Sassy fellow knitter’s name is Krys. She proceeds to join the conversation and explains that my knitting habit is legit and perhaps he’s the one who needs to brush up on the latest trend. As it turns out, Krys is also from San Antonio and has been eavesdropping on our conversation for a while now wondering how a cool girl like me got stuck traveling with “whiney guy.” As we continue the conversation, it becomes instantly apparent that Krys and I have bonded and become fast friends. She goes on to explain that she’s headed to San Francisco for a work related meeting at her company’s corporate headquarters. As it turns out, she is the Community Manager for a company called Yelp. Yelp is a social networking site where real people can share real reviews about the places they love (or hate)… restaurants, bars, spas, etc. Krys and I exchange contact info and I promise to check out Yelp. By the end of our initial meeting I’m wishing we could send Mr. Inappropriate Adjective to San Francisco and she could come to Laguna Beach with me! We hop on the plane (which we almost missed b/c we were so busy chatting it up) and eventually part ways in Orange County. When I got back to San Antonio, I set up a Yelp account and began sharing my opinions with the world… which I’ve always done, but these people actually cared about what I had to say. Nifty right?! Krys eventually came back to San Antonio and the rest is history. I yelped and yelped and yelped some more! Before long I became a member of the Yelp Elite Squad, and a permanent resident in Krys’ circle of friends. We strike up conversations with strangers just about everywhere we go, and we love to tell the story of how we were once strangers from the same town destine to meet in the Phoenix airport. So, here’s the moral of this story… well there’s actually two…

#1: It’s okay to talk to strangers!!! Always be friendly! You never know who you’ll meet or how they’ll impact your life! Krys is like a little ray of sunshine!

#2: YELP! Do it now… like right this second now! It’s a great way to find new places to eat, drink, and be merry! Plus, they have all kinds of fun social events… and when I say fun I actually mean legendary, epic, and extravagant!

If you want to check out my profile to see what it’s all about it, click the link below:
Ashley's YELP Profile!

Over Analyzers Anonymous… but not really anonymous since I’m about to out myself…

“After many intense brain things going on inside my head, I have decided*…” that I am Ashley York, and I over analyze things. There ya go, first step out of the way… admitting you have a problem. It’s true, I can spend hours analyzing a single sentence, statement, or look. Part of that is simply because I’m female. Yep, I said it and ladies you know it’s true so don’t act all indignant about it. It’s how we roll and that’s a fact. Honestly, I don’t know how guys survive living on the same planet with us. They say, “Hey, how’s it going?” and we analyze that until it’s all twisted around in our head resulting in something like this, “Hey, I’m not really that into you because I only said how’s it going, not how was your day.” Or, your boss says, “Could you send me a recap of your day?“ and suddenly it becomes “I don’t think you work very hard and you’re really not that smart.“ I make a pretty concentrated effort to avoid this foolish pastime of over analyzing, but obviously I don’t try hard enough. I let this nasty little habit surface in all kinds of conversations… work, personal, insignificant encounters with people I hardly know. It drives me crazy! I. NEED. AN. INTERVENTION. So, now that you know about my “little problem” just tell it like it is… say what you mean and mean what you say. Thank you in advance for understanding and making an effort to meet my needs.

The above noted quote is from the movie Madagascar.  Watch it.  You'll like it. 

Faith Like A Child

“They say that I can move the mountains and send them crashing to the sea. They say that I can walk on water if I would follow and believe with faith like a child.” ~ Like a Child, Jars of Clay

As Christians, we profess our faith in God. In reality, as humans, the whole faith thing gets a little tricky. I desire faith like a child. I’m not there yet, but it’s what I’m praying for daily. Remember when you were a little kid and you had complete faith that your parents were going to take care of you, provide for you, and love you unconditionally? Mostly it was because you didn’t know any better. At that age, no one had given you any reason to doubt those facts. Daily, the world and the people around us give us a kazillion reasons to give up on faith. As adults, we struggle to have faith in ourselves, faith in others, and most importantly faith in God. For lack of a better expression, we’re damaged goods. That damage creates fear… fear of the unknown, fear of failure, fear of being hurt… the list goes on and on and on… still, God expects us to have faith. We need faith. How scary would the world be without faith?! Even when you’re going through a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad time, you can still hold onto your faith to help you through because God promised to take care of us and He meant it. Knowing that, and embracing that are two very different things. Everyone struggles with faith in different ways. Personally, I have a hard time with the whole “Let go, and let God!” concept. It’s not that I don’t think He can handle it, it’s that He made me such an independent, self-assured, impatient person. You like how I just blamed my struggle with faith on God?! Geez. It’s that kind of thinking that gets us in trouble in the first place. I have a desire to live in God’s will… I just have a hard time accepting when God’s will and my will don’t match up. I’m a dreamer, and I when I see something I want, I go for it… no matter what. To say that’s a bad idea that will get you nowhere in a hurry would be an epic understatement. So, I’m working on letting go and trying to accept whatever path He has for me. It’s scary… like really really really scary. I know what I want, and I really hope that it’s what God wants too… BUT, if my will and His will don’t match up I hope that He’ll give me the courage to take whatever path He does put before me. I’m probably not going to be a happy camper about it at first, but I know that in the end His plan will be way better than anything I could have dreamed up on my own… which is pretty impressive because I can dream up some doozies. I’m at a crossroads right now where I’m having to work overtime to have faith like a child. I’m just convinced that He has something so wonderful and amazing for me on the horizon that I won’t even re-sign my lease because I’m not willing to commit to staying in San Antonio for another year. I may still be here in a year, but if another opportunity presents itself between now and then, I want to be ready to walk through that open door. Someone asked me where I was planning on going the other day. My answer, I don’t know. He looked at me like I might be crazy… and maybe I am, but at least I know that when the right thing comes along I’ll be ready for the adventure (wherever it takes me)… and hopefully, I’ll follow God’s path with faith like a child!

Click here to listen to Like A Child!

When Life Hands You Lemons… BLOG!

It was recently brought to my attention that I only blog when I’m avoiding other things. While there is some truth to this, it’s not so much that I’m procrastinating… really it’s more that I’m trying to get out of my own head. I’m not avoiding THINGS so much as I’m avoiding THINKING about things that I can’t control and/or don’t understand. It’s like a virtual defense mechanism! Need a break from reality? Blog! So, here I am thinking about ways to not think about what I’m thinking about. Some people journal. Some people drink. Some people cry. Some people talk about it. I blog, avoid, and deny! I may occasionally be guilty of some of the other previously mentioned coping mechanisms as well, but that's not important right now. It’s not that I’m incapable of dealing with reality, I simply understand that very little about my life is actually in my control. Sure I control the day to day stuff, but all the big picture stuff is really up to God. Sometimes it’s not even big picture stuff. Sometimes you get caught up in other people’s decisions and you can’t really change the outcome so why sit around and dwell on it all day? It prolongs all the yucky emotions and gets in the way of the warm fuzzy emotions. I'm a warm fuzzy kind of girl, and I don't like it when the yucky emotions jack with my generally chipper and delightful demeanor. Alas, I’m spending my lunch break blogging about why I blog. It’s a weird world we live in these days. Anyway, here’s what I’m thinking about (while I’m avoiding thinking about other things)… I’m going to write a blog about Lynyrd Skynyrd and the timeless life lessons shared in their songs. It’s true, I think there’s a lot of useful wisdom in their lyrics… think Simple Man. So, that’s what’s on tap for my next blog. Stay tuned!

Peter Pan & The Lost Boys

Attn: Men (and I use this term loosely) of Generation Y… Millennials… Echo Boomers… or whatever it is you’re calling yourselves these days besides bro… GROW UP! Seriously.

I’m starting to notice a pattern within my own generation. No one is interested in growing up… especially the dudes. “You know what I mean bro?!” There are a few of us who have managed to escape most of the negative characteristics of our generation, but let’s face it, even those of us who “have our $h!t together” are still a little irked about society’s insistence that we grow up and conform to the “norm.” What is the “norm” anyway? Millennials are a generation of free thinkers full of new ideas, and a complete and total inability to play by the rules and/or be on time… even if our life depends on it. Basically, we’re awesome! Well, the women are anyway. Just kidding, we come with our own set of quirks that we can address another time.

The guys though… they could use a little help. ASAP! Please understand, I know plenty of successful, employed, respectable MEN that are part of Gen Y. However, I’m noticing an increasingly frightening trend… it’s like all the sudden a posse of slacker dudes have invaded my city… my state… my country… my universe. Yes people, it’s that bad. I’ve decided to refer to the afore mentioned guys as The Lost Boys. The Lost Boys think life is a party, beer is one of the 4 food groups, and they refuse to get a real job. Sounds like college right? Wrong! We’re talking about guys 25-30 years old. Ridiculous right?! It’s no wonder we’re getting married and having children later in life. The Lost Boys are still throwing rocks at us like we’re on the playground. They’re afraid of commitment, disrespectful, and honesty is a totally foreign concept. Chivalry is in fact dead amongst The Lost Boys. It seems to me that in every social circle, The Lost Boys have their very own Peter Pan. The one they aspire to be some day. Here’s the deal though, Peter Pan is just a dude in tights who refuses to GROW UP! He’s the BOY who’s always up for a party and can’t hold down a steady job because it interferes with is social life. He still manages to get by somehow on his talent, his good looks, his sense of humor, or just pure old fashioned luck. He makes being an immature slacker look glamorous, because after all, life is a party right?! Much to my dismay, all of The Lost Boys aspire to be just like him. Ugh. It’s time for The Lost Boys to grow up and get a real job. And no, unless you have a record deal or are paid regularly in cash (not beer) for your gigs, being in a band does not count as a real job! Being a part-time bartender does not count as a real job… try working at least 5 days a week and then you can call it a real job! Being a “club promoter” does not count as a real job unless you’re being paid in cash (not beer and free cover)! Sitting on the couch in your underwear watching infomercials does not count as a real job… even if mommy and daddy are still taking care of your lazy butt! This might require you to roll out of bed before noon. Don’t worry, you’ll live. People have been getting up before noon for years and no one has died from it yet. In fact, they generally prosper. Don’t get me wrong, if I could sleep until noon every day I would too. Sadly, there is no such thing as a little money fairy named Tinkerbell. So, get up off the couch, get dressed in CLEAN clothes that MATCH, and GET A FREAKIN’ JOB! You will never see an ad that says, “Single white female looking for Lost Boy to support.” We’re not your momma, or your sugar momma for that matter. You see, as millennial women, we are totally capable of taking care of and providing for ourselves. We just want to know that you are able to take care of yourself and are capable of providing for us. You don’t actually have to do it, we just want to know that you could. Yeah, yeah, yeah, we know, you all have this dream and you’re afraid getting a real job means you’re giving up on the dream. False. It just means you’re able to afford a car, a roof over your head, and something in your fridge besides beer. You might even make enough to consider taking us out on a real date. (Note: A real date does not in any way include going to the bar with your buddies in tow, being forced to eat off the dollar menu at Jack in the Box, or “chillin” at the apartment.) Keep working towards your dream if you really believe in it, but don’t use it as an excuse to be a deadbeat. To all the “bros” of Gen Y out there, a least make an effort to pretend that you aspire to be something more than one of The Lost Boys forever, and give up the dream of being Peter Pan already… it’s not gonna happen!

Go Out and Get Shellaced!

It sounds naughty right? Wrong! SHELLAC is the greatest thing since sliced bread… if you’re a woman… or a man who appreciates the opportunity to admire your woman’s well manicured hands! Yesterday, I turned 28 (Truthfully, I turned 30 but I’m lying about it to anyone who asks and no, I don’t even feel bad about it.), and in honor of my special day I treated myself to a relaxing mani and pedi! I had heard a rumor that there was a magical new way to have glamorous nails without destroying them in the process. Sure, good old fashioned nail polish is always an option, but unless you plan to sit around and not touch or do anything what is the point?! My nail polish ALWAYS chips within the first day or two… ALWAYS! I expected it to be difficult to explain what I wanted since there always seems to be a bit of a language barrier at the salon, but the moment I mentioned it, they knew exactly what I was talking about… Shellac! Basically, it’s a gel they paint on just like regular polish… BUT, it is no ordinary polish. It stays on without chipping for nearly 2 whole weeks! That’s like a lifetime in nail polish years! The beautiful thing about Shella is that it doesn’t damage your nails like solar or acrylic, and it comes off with regular old nail polish remover. It cost about $10 more than a regular manicure, and is worth every single penny! I opted to let my freak flag fly, and got my toes painted black. On my nails however, I opted for a sexy, sassy, red in honor of Valentine’s Day! Not gonna lie, it’s HOT! ;-) Don't believe me? Check out the photo below. The one and only draw back to Shellac is that since it’s relatively new technology, most salons only offer it in a few colors. Still, it beats the white trash chipped nail polish look any day. So ladies, GO OUT AND GET SHELLACED! You’ll dig it, I promise!

INTERVENTION: My Life is a Country Song

Ugh. I have come to a terribly unfortunate realization. My life has become a country song. Upsetting… on multiple levels. Admitting you have a problem is the first step right? I’ll start at the beginning. First, I found myself looking up lyrics to songs I'd heard on the radio wondering how they could possibly have known how to so eloquently express my feelings. Here I am thinking I’m the only person in the world who has ever suffered a broken heart of this magnitude. False. Apparently every song writer in Nashville has met the same guy. The guy who is careless with your heart, won’t communicate, wouldn’t know a good thing if it slapped him in the face, and is still in love with his ex. You catch yourself thinking, “Oh wouldn’t it be great if he could just hear this song and know this is exactly how I’m feeling!” Problem #1: He’d have to care in the first place to put two and two together. Problem #2: He’d have to listen to country music, and the only thing he dislikes more than country music is me. Still, I didn’t realize that my new little habit was evidence of a problem. I was talking about “that guy” with my sister when she interrupted to tell me there is no need to finish the story because she’s pretty sure there’s a Taylor Swift song about it and she already knows the ending. Ouch. She meant well… I think. Then, this afternoon on my way back from Austin, I realized I’m in need of a full on intervention. I was singing in the car… a concert worthy performance… not unusual. Here’s the part that’s hard to confess… I was singing My Strongest Weakness by Wynonna… a classic I can’t go on without him, how will I ever love again, oh this hurts so much country tune. I immediately knew I was in T-R-O-U-B-L-E (there‘s a country song about that too). My life simply cannot go on in country song mode. I need to shift gears quickly! So now, I’m considering new genres… rap, rock, reggae… I think I’ll try to avoid the blues… bottom line, as Tanya might say, “I’m down to my last teardrop,“ and I’m quitting country music cold turkey.

Punxsutawney Phil: Ingenious Meteorologist or Grantor of False Hope?

It’s Groundhog Day. Great. I’m like a human popsicle right now, but it’s okay… good ol’ Phil did not see his shadow today and that means Spring is just around the corner! Right. How the heck did Phil manage to make it out of his snow covered hole?! On the off chance he was really able to tunnel his way out, who in their right mind was willing to stand around in this record breaking cold weather waiting on Phil to emerge from his cozy hole and predict the weather?! Phil has been around a REALLY long time… according to The Official Website of the Punxsutawney Ground Hog Club (http://www.groundhog.org/), he’s been around for 125 years to be exact. I am too lazy to research the average lifespan of a groundhog, but I’m certain it is less than 125 years… especially for obese groundhogs. Phil is fat. I realize it’s not very PC to state the obvious, but this is one well fed groundhog.

It’s no wonder that our nation’s position as leader of the free world is being questioned. We use a seemingly invincible obese groundhog to predict our weather.