The Myth & The Majesty

Here it is. I know it doesn't look like much, but it turns out that this little leather notebook was exactly what I wanted. This was one of my better finds while shopping this weekend ... I took care of a few Christmas presents, got a new pair of shoes (not just any shoes, but The Shoes I Was Looking For -- tell me there's at least one of you out there who understands my current joy!), and I found this. I also went grocery shopping for the 82nd time so that I could eat breakfast this week. At some point I decided that, as much as I love leftover turkey, two meals a day is enough. It snowed today as well and I was psyched. I say "was" because now I'm cowering in front of my computer instead of pulling on my boots to go shovel the sidewalk under the guise of "it might not be done yet." Don't get me wrong; I love snow. But right now I'm warm and cozy and -- I admit it -- wearing pajamas. My jeans got soaked up to the knee just by walking back to my

I'm going to break from the family history for a bit since I'm now at home by myself, listening to Christmas music in the quiet of my apartment and thinking about how the weekend has gone. So! The blow-by-blow. My parents and sibs showed up on Wednesday after a brief detour at the very end of their trek. Turns out Mother Dearest had two sets of the turn-by-turn directions I sent her, and only one had the ever-important correction about the highway they just finished. Naturally, Mia Sorella was navigating from the uncorrected set. Anyway! They got here and unloaded the Exploder, and after a brief tour and some general chat, we hit Hereford & Hops for dinner. H&H is one of my favorite restaurants in town. They're a steakhouse/brewery, and both their steak and their brew are top-notch -- and moderately inexpensive. Having kicked off the weekend in good form, we headed back to the house and had dessert -- blackberry and cream cheese pie from Norske Nook in Osseo, WI. A-

In honor of what I hope will be a fantastic upcoming weekend ... ----- Twelve Things That Put Me In The Holiday Spirit 1. Snow. 2. Starbucks Peppermint Mochas. (I'd be ashamed, but they're so good ...) 3. Shopping. (No, really.) 4. Salvation Army bell ringers. 5. Cheesy Christmas movies. 6. Leftover turkey. 7. Decorating, especially lights! (The inflatable things don't really do anything for me.) 8. Cranberries. 9. A good bottle of Chianti. 10. The holiday book drive at the B. 11. Pumpkin pie, pumpkin bread, pumpkin cake, pepitos ... 12. Crisp, clear, starry nights. (Bonus #13: My mother's Russian black bread.)

High school. High school was when it all hit the fan ... so to speak. My freshman year did not go terribly well, and as such I was a pain at home. Sophomore year my friend situation was a bit more stable and I plateaued. But junior year ... Junior year was a disaster. Mia Sorella was a freshman that year and suddenly we were sharing everything. Rides to school, band, youth group, soccer. All of that time I had previously had to myself I now had to share. And everywhere I went, she was the gregarious, outgoing sister while I was the shy, socially awkward one. That did not bode well for my self-esteem. Then the cold war began. My family does not yell. It goes back to my dad's motorcycle accident over thirty years ago -- we just don't do it. Instead, it is generally acknowledged when people are not happy with each other and things get quiet. All teenagers hit a moment with their parents when they just don't "get" each other anymore. Whether it's t

Fifth grade started in a new town. I went from being outgoing, well-liked, and generally very bubbly to quiet, timid, and shy to the point of awkwardness. I was not excited to be starting over with new friends and new teachers. The summer had gone fairly well. We had moved in during a snow storm the previous spring. While painting the house, we met one neighbor kid, a boy who was between my sister and I in age. When he felt like it, the three of us could entertain ourselves for hours, running around playing our own versions of cops and robbers. When he didn't, Mia Sorella and I would play Sam and the War, an inexplicably complicated game that required more imagination than I can fathom now. If we weren't doing that, we were pretending to be rock stars and putting together huge music sets with the CDs that were just then becoming commonplace. I liked the house and I loved the space, but I had no idea what to actually expect from these "country kids," and I wasn&#

More fresh snow today, which made me smile before I left for work this morning. Apartment is almost clean enough for parents. Almost. In the mean time, I've found all sorts of fun things, like several misplaced pairs of earrings and the floor of my office.

She gave her husband a pointed look. "Ashley used an interesting word today. I can only hope she learned it from her classmates." He cringed. She had been in the garage with him while he was changing the oil in their van. She might've learned it from him. "And what word was that?" His wife sighed. "'Irregardless.' I don’t even know where it came from." He had to smile. "Did you tell her it wasn't a real word?" * I've said it before and it's worth restating: my family is different. We all know this and to be totally honest, we all relish it. While there's no way I can get all the "differentness" into one post of any form of reasonable length, I thought this week would be a spectacular one to start trying. On of my earliest memories is from when I was four years old. We were just moving into a new house and Dad took me for a drive. He was pointing out a window: "That's where you're

"So are you headed back to South Dakota for Thanksgiving?" "No -- my parents are actually going to be here for the weekend." "Oh! Are you nervous?" I have had this exchange with people probably twice a day for the last week -- and each and every time it makes me smile. I am a little nervous, but it's not what they think; my apartment persists in being a disaster zone (probably because I find myself blogging instead of cleaning) and, although I tend to be a cleaning miracle worker when it comes down to the wire, I'm not certain it'll be in quite good enough shape before the fam appears. That and I can't find my salt and pepper shakers. Small difficulties. In any case, I'm actually pretty darn psyched about my family coming here for the holiday. I love hosting events. It's a little weird, really. I just love having people around, getting to feed them, and the shenanigans that inevitably result. I'm looking forward to the late nigh

After another moderately nutcase week, it's time for a weekend of cold, hard labor. Mostly hard labor, actually. In theory my house should stay warm. Anyway! Tonight, I need to get something done right away so I can justify going to the comedy club, or I just need to go to bed early. (Haven't decided yet how that's going to go.) I'm kind of a bit on the excessively tired side. In any case! Six days till Thanksgiving. Thirty-four to Christmas. How's your prep going?

You know those times when you just have a LOT on your mind? Still some turmoil in select friends' lives. Serious turmoil. Starting to die down a bit, though, thank goodness. The Season is in full swing. Salvation Army bell ringers are out. Decorations are on store shelves. Our safety awards just showed up so I have one bigger gift taken care of. Thirty-six days till Christmas. Thanksgiving is next week. I have some menu planning to do, a lot of cleaning, and possibly even more grocery shopping. It's going to be a great weekend -- but right now, it's all about the prep. Group Christmas party will be at my house, so planning for that has started as well. Big group dinner tomorrow night -- ribs at Simon's place. I have a lot of bread to bake tonight. After I get my hair cut, before I can launch back into cleaning. Before any of that, though, I have to finish things here -- which should be doable, especially if I get back to it. So -- later, all.

Feeling better today, much to my relief. May even be able to accomplish something tonight. (Novel idea.) Only nine days till Thanksgiving! Are any of you ready? I'm sure not.

Oy. I don’t feel good.

I have a lot of special notebooks on my shelves. One is used only for short stories; one is filled with letters. One is a (poorly written) novel in progress. Another is used only for Bible study notes. And then there's this stack. They don't look like much, but these battered notebooks represent about a decade of events in Ashleyland. I am an avid journaler. I've always been into books, but starting roughly the summer after my freshman year of high school, I began writing on a regular basis myself. Since then, it's turned into a habit, a need, almost a compulsion. It's also evolved. What started as a "this is what happened today" form of writing has turned into an all-inclusive book. Notes, addresses, pictures, maps, lists, quotes, pre-formed blogs all find their way into the pages right next to my thoughts, reactions, and frustrations with the things going on in my world and the world beyond. It's not always interesting reading, but there's always

Slowly but surely, I've been making a dent in my incredibly messy apartment. Seems the impending visit by my parents is making me a little more focused. But that's what it takes: a deadline. One that involves the possibility of my mother seeing my messy apartment is that much stronger. It also helps that M-Kay is gone for the weekend so I can listen to music at whatever volume I want or turn on a movie and crank up whatever bass I have so I can fully experience "Independence Day" or "Phantom of the Opera." That also means that if I don't get around to vacuuming until 2AM, I won't have an irritated neighbor. And, whenever it is I'm done with my living and dining rooms, I get to break into these boxes. Those boxes constitute the sum total of my Christmas decorations -- except my tree -- and ever since I was in Michael's a few days ago, I've been dying to crack them open again and start sorting. Today, I braved my dungeon-like hole of a base

Will you tell me when the lights are fading 'Cause I can’t see, I can’t see no more. Will you tell me when the song stops playing 'Cause I can’t hear, I can’t hear no more. She said I don’t know what you’re living for - She said I don’t know what you’re living for at all. He said I don’t know what you’re living for - He said I don’t know what you’re living for at all. But I will run until my feet no longer run no more. And I will kiss until my lips no longer feel no more. And I will love until my heart it aches, And I will love until my heart it breaks, And I will love until there's nothing more to live for. I have had the worst of up-and-down weeks. Don’t get me wrong -- I’d rather up-and-down than just plain down. I have a couple of friends who had just down weeks, and I’d much prefer to stay in my own shoes in this case. But there’s something that happens with up-and-down weeks that doesn’t happen any other time, and that’s a truly unique emotional exhaustion. From tryin

About fourteen months ago, six people went out to dinner on a Thursday night. Just dinner -- that was enough that night. We didn't really know each other all that well, but we were all looking for a group of younger folks in the Wausau area. The next week, we went out again, adding one more to our crowd. And the week after that, we went somewhere else on a different night. A couple weeks later, we added one more person. For awhile, the eight of us were it, although around Christmas a couple more were added to the numbers. A year later, we've grown to a total email list of twenty-two people every week (and a total "listing" of almost thirty people) . We have a system in place involving a preliminary vote between two dinner options (a sort of RSVP) and a follow-up email for those who were interested in going. We set a new record last week of seventeen people for dinner. We range from 22 to 30 years old and all have some kind of tie to Siemens; most of us

Fourteen years without a lost time accident! In honor of this rather phenomenal milestone (considering it's not just office people included, but also pressure vessel manufacturers, welders, lab folks, pilot plant operators, and a group of people that spend a lot of time on oil platforms), we're having a steak lunch today. Yeah, that's right. Steak. And baked potatoes. And vegetables. And pie. On the company. This is the biggest meal I'll have all week, and that's fantastic. It's also going to be incredibly crowded down at the lunchroom, so who knows -- I might get to meet some new people. Always fun. That should be enough excitement for the day, BUT -- E-Train's in town as well so there will probably be something going on tonight. Yay again. This week qualifies as "staying busy." I think I'll be taking Friday night off ...

Today's Yahoo! Taurus Horoscope: Slowing down might not feel comfortable right now, but it is the right thing to do. The intense energy you put out today shouldn't be directed at solving problems or putting out fires. Instead, direct it solely at reducing the level of commitment in your life! Put the brakes on a new business project, cool off an overwhelming new flirtation, or tell that pushy friend that you need some time to yourself -- whatever it takes to get yourself to a brand new level of boredom. ----------- Ha! I'm supposed to force boredom!

It's been overcast and cold all day today. Not overly cold -- probably in the thirties -- but cold enough that my not terribly well-adjusted body thinks it's very cold. It's been a good day to stay inside and read, or stay inside and drink tea, or stay inside and watch a movie. Or in my case, stay inside and get distracted from my book by a movie while drinking tea. Sorry. Too much meaningless description. It's been a good day for quiet, for reflection, for deep, hard thought. A day designed for hermiting, if ever there was one. And that's a fact for which I can be thankful. The rest of this weekend ... Well, yesterday was hard on my head, and today was my chance to recover and get ready for the week -- which doesn't look like an easy one, all things considered. It'll be much better for me than others (and I'm fully aware of that) but as outcomes and emotions have a tendency to carry from person to person, it could be rough. So how's that for a vagu

Last night I had dinner with a couple of my married friends before I headed to the B for my usual Friday night "down time." I don't know what it is, but that's the first place I want to go after work on Fridays. It's a little strange, but that's the way it goes. Anyway! I ran into a coworker of mine -- the ever-gregarious Ph.D. with whom I power-mingled at one of the Admiral's parties several months back -- and he asked why I wasn't out exploring the "sizzling hot" Wausau dating scene. That made me laugh. If there's a sizzling hot Wausau dating scene, I sure haven't found it. He asked if I had tried -- and I had to answer that no, I honestly hadn't spent much time looking. This morning proved to be far more interesting than I had anticipated, but I won't get into that. Suffice it to say that, as I sat down with a redeye and a fantastic oatmeal-cranberry bar at Wausau's most awesome coffee shop, I was relieved that my life

My latest music kick (I blame the B) -- Amy MacDonald. Mr. Rock & Roll So called Mr. Rock And Roll Is dancing on his own again, Talking on his phone again, To someone who tells him that his balance is low. He's got no where to go, He's on his own again. Rock chick of the century Is acting like she used to be, Dancing like there's no one there, Before she never seemed to care - Now she wouldn't dare. It's so rock and roll to be alone. And they'll meet one day Far away, And say, "I wish I was something more." And they'll meet one day Far away, And say, "I wish I knew you, I wish I knew you before." Mrs. Black and White, She's never seen a shade of grey, Always something on her mind, Every single day. But now she's lost her way - And where does she go from here? Mr. Multicultural Sees all that one can see. He's living proof of someone Very different to me. But now he wants to be free, Free so he can see. And they'll meet

Holy cow. Almost four feet of snow in Deadwood. At least ten inches everywhere else. 65+ mph winds. 330 closed miles of Interstate 90. And two snow days at Tech. And the closing of Mt. Rushmore. I can't help but worry a bit -- particularly about my grandparents, since it seems their phone went out and they're in a fairly isolated spot. That kind of storm leaves a lot of stranded people in its path. Good luck, all. I know I'll be keeping you in my thoughts and prayers as you dig out, and I imagine the same applies to all of the other relocated Dakotans out there.

Who'd believe a diva happy to relieve a chorus girl who's gone and slept with the patron? Raoul and the soubrette, entwined in love's duet! Although he may demur, he must have been with her! You'd never get away with all this in a play, but if it's loudly sung and in a foreign tongue It's just the sort of story audiences adore, in fact a perfect opera! - From "Notes/Prima Donna" in "The Phantom of the Opera" That's been stuck in my head since roughly lunch yesterday. Just that section, over and over and over. The weekend is upon us at last ... Whee! Weekends have become my retreat, my sabbaticals, as they should be. While things haven't been stressful this week, they've been oddly hectic -- unexpectedly so -- and now I'm ready to sleep in a little and cook whatever I feel like eating at any given time. And finding places to store my beautiful new Taste of Home dishes. Okay, so maybe weekends only get to be h

I hope that was thunder. I don't think there are any loads going out today. Option 2: a backhoe breaking our water main again. Option 3: some other form of construction incident.

Yesterday I drove by a voting center where the sign outside told me to cast my ballet there. I didn't have the heart to tell them that my pirouette is terrible, so I just kept driving. Errors everywhere ... A blogged article about Chevy Chase yesterday cited his portrayal of Gerald Ford on SNL and how that changed Ford's public face ... except the author left that all important "l" out of the word public. Then I had a discussion with my mother about Tourette's syndrome, which is not to be confused with turrets. And then there were a few gems during the meeting that just ended twenty minutes ago -- including "pitcher" versus "picture" (which is one of my pet peeves) and "heighth" versus "height." I'm done nitpicking. Or rather, I'm done until something comes along to really drive me nuts. Shouldn't be long now.

Two more last night in the forty-five minutes I was home. I was reasonably cordial with the first guy, although I told him I didn't appreciate being asked a rude question. Nicer than I was to the third person on Saturday. And the last guy ... Well, I opened the door, saw his fliers, and closed the door again. Not very nice of me. But I was really, really tired of hearing that stuff. And I already have enough fliers from the people who left them in my door while I was gone. Seriously -- the waste of paper is astonishing, largely because these aren't small fliers, either. Anyway! It's almost over. Then we just have to deal with our choice for the next four years. Or eight. Hopefully it works out well for us (although the last sixteen years aren't giving me a lot of hope). I am a political cynic. Duh, hm?

I've been reminiscing while going through pictures on Facebook. And I need to stop -- although I've found several true gems. Things I had forgotten about, or blocked out, or just plain don't think about often enough. This picture is about two years old, from my last semester at Tech. And it shows me at my best, I think. The kind of picture everyone should see if they want to understand Ashleyland a little better. And even if they don't. If they just want to be amused. Despite everything, I love this picture. Ah, M-Day.

Four times. It happened four times this weekend. People were walking the neighborhoods, knocking on doors and reminding the rest of us contributing members of society to vote. Fine. It's something of a public service. And it can't be considered even remotely rewarding. I felt a little bad for them. I voted last week -- I love early voting -- and I told them so. Then came the part that made me angry. "Great! So who'd you vote for?" Now, I remember a point in time where I was told that voting was -- *ahem* -- private. Hence the shrouded voting booths. Hence the anonymity. Yet four complete strangers all asked me the exact same question. It took until the third person asked before I said exactly what I did think. I feel a little guilty now for telling the woman she was abominably rude to ask someone she had never met such a private question (particularly since I actually did use the word "abominably") before I shut the door. Not slammed, bu

It's a strange problem, but on weekends I tend to forget to eat. It's not that I don't get hungry. I just ... forget. Eventually I don't feel hungry anymore. Then I hit points like I just did right now and realize that it is, in fact, 8:30 at night and I haven't had a real meal yet today. I haven't just been sitting around, either. Did some shopping, did some cleaning, did some sewing -- more activity than a lot of Saturdays, actually. Since I took last night off and continued the tradition we started at the girls' house on Utah ("Phantom of the Opera" and some wine on Halloween night while passing out candy), I figured I should accomplish something today. But I managed to forget to eat. I think I need to go do something about that. As in RIGHT NOW.