too young for morals

I rang in January with my best friend by dancing, singing and rapping (it was real) until we eventually passed out. We had a Harry Potter moment while hiking in the forest where we vowed "things [were] really gonna change for us." I continued to adjust to my new school and made a lot of effort to do well with my job at the newspaper. I got back into biking after the great 'Hit By A Car Incident of 2009' and made a resolve to change my perspective.

In February I found the perfect red cowboy boots I'd been searching for and ridiculously wore them everywhere. I dyed my hair dark brown for fun and spent rainy days baking and knitting. A couple sweet friends surprised me at midnight on my birthday with wine and chocolate cake and I spent the next week eating treats because it was still my birthday week. I got my first tattoo, went on sweet dates with sweet boys and wore my power suit on fun assignments. I also went on fancy all-expenses-paid trip to Sacramento to lobby against some of California's scariest Republican reps.

In March I took a solo trip north to visit S in Fresno for some much needed heart to heart time. A trip wouldn't have been successful without a visit to Berkeley for coffee dates and co-op parties.

In April I held a grown man in my arms while he cried and after stood on a mountain with him and talked about how it's okay to be angry sometimes. I crashed my car into another car (don't worry, it was my dad's and he was only a little mad) and accidentally rolled down a hill at 2am that same night.

In May I celebrated a year since my third heart surgery. I made preparations to move to Berkeley for the summer and got really distracted from school when my friends came home. I started training for a half marathon the Parisians signed on for together.

In June I spent afternoons in parks with iced tea/coffee and good books. Best friend and I packed up my little car and made the long night drive to Berkeley, complete with a spontaneous glow stick party on the highway to start off a summer that was filled with Katy Perry duets. I went to a concert festival where I was totally spoiled by strangers' kindness, wandered around in an intoxicated stupor and found contention in my lack of showering. I started summer school, went to yoga everyday and went to concerts in record stores.

In July I continued to intern for a politician and reaped the benefits of free donuts. I walked everywhere in the Bay area and met up with friends in Santa Cruz and San Francisco. I celebrated Independence with A and D and had shady encounters late at night.

In August we celebrated best friend's birthday with a delicious coffee cake and a birthday party on the roof complete with late night/early morning McFlurries and "Dirty Harry." I moved home from Berkeley after school ended and spent every night out late with lovely people.

In September I had an incident with a good man friend and now we don't really talk much but I'm wiser now. I went to Berkeley again and finally went to a dance party like I had wanted all summer. I cooked delicious food for a house of people and watched boys pee on the sides of buildings.

In October I started an internship with Barbara Boxer and was harassed for being a liberal in a predominately conservative area. I met a childhood friend for the first time and it didn't work out but we still ate delicious food and managed some passive aggressive humor. I saw Arcade Fire in concert and fell in love. I ran and finished a half marathon and managed to make some people unhappy in doing so but life's not about living to please other people and ultimately my spirit soared so that's all that matters. I took long drives with my brother and found comfort in his forever-friendship. I spent Halloween dressed up like JFK while studying for a midterm.

In November I moved and moved again and got extra prepared for the holidays by eating cranberry sauce every day. I got held up and almost-attacked by a man at Little Cesars but laughed it off and spent the night LSAT studying and eating donuts. I went to a conference in Santa Barbara and danced under the stars. I became even better friends with some oldies and quoted Mean Girls way too much. My car caught on fire and I got stuck in elevator but it reminded me not to take anything too seriously.

In December I danced in the rain. I went on hikes and cooked with friends late at night. My heart hurt a little for missed opportunities. One week, I went to the movie theater four nights in a row. I went on day time adventures and felt guilty for relaxing my tired-from-finals brain. I had a scare and 911 came but one of the medics looked like Seth Rogan. I also had a really intense cough but I'm better now.

I began 2010 slightly jaded and no one should ever be. My motto for the year was "too young for morals" and though at the time, I meant that in sort of a self-destructive, "I don't give a shit" way, it became more about new experiences and taking risks. 2010, (holy goodness that sounds so futuristic! but so archaic) you were really good to me. I'll see you on the other side.

you've changed.

There is a moment in most failed relationships when the person who knows you better than you know yourself, who you love beyond anything believable, looks at you like you are a stranger. And not an interesting stranger, like someone you may see on the street for the first time, but a stranger who doesn't care to know you, with eyes full of apathy.

Apathy hurts more than anger, doesn't it?

And in that moment, nothing you could do or say could change anything. You wish you could climb inside his heart and brain and put those little grey's anatomy resuscitating paddles on them and jolt them back to life. Or shake some sense into him and show him pictures of his happy in-love face and remind him that you're still you and he's still him and you're really good together. But you're standing in front of him with your heart in your hands. He's standing in front of you and he's already gone at the same time.

And your body knows before your brain processes it.

Everything closes in around you and the air gets really thick, and your heart drops through your stomach and your skin gets so sensitive you're afraid if he touches you, you may just bruise, or bleed, or crumble.

I've probably been on the giving end of that dynamic but I can't shut off instantaneously. If I love you, I will always love you--even if I can't keep you.

But some men (and women, sure) have a special ability to switch it off and walk away. Washing their hands of you and already on to the next.

I often wish I could do that too. Wouldn't life be so much easier?

I hate that part.

it's never too early

a running list of what will be present at my 21st birthday:
-red stripe
-bean and cheese burritos
-corn bread
-cheese cake
-pumpkin pie
-the cha cha slide
-harry potter cake (chocolate inside)

edit, Jan 20:
-karaoke
-pinata

edit, Jan 21:
-"Aaron's Party," the hit song from Aaron Carter

-Drake concert (jk, it's age 21+. I just checked)

edit, Jan 28:
-"Mambo No. 5"

Ash is 21.

Today one of my bests turns twenty-one. She is beautiful and I love her. Happy birthday A!

*photo taken sometime freshman year of college. ignore my dumb expression.

little letters

i need to say the following:

dear charming boy:

it all started when i hand fed you that pie. why i did that is beyond me. am i stupid? yes, the answer is yes because you have a girlfriend. i’ve been the slutty mistress before and it’s not fun, it’s not cute, it’s not becoming. what’s worse though is that i really adored you last quarter but we both send mixed signals and then you got a girlfriend and now you’re constantly texting me smiley faces and telling me good night. stop doing that and start doing that to the girl who is probably sitting right next to you as you text me. she is going to kick my ass if you do not.

sincerely, i’m determined to keep this platonic by carrying silverware and limiting my text winky faces.

dear charming boy (again, on a different note):

thank you for being you. i enjoy spending time with you inside and outside of class. i love that we have compatible senses of humor and i think it’s sweet you want to drive us everywhere (THOUGH YOU REALLY SHOULDN’T DRIVE ME AT ALL, FUCKER)

from, aubrey, your just friend who appreciates your just friendship.

dear popcorn:

i love you so much and all your light-butter-60-calorie-per-entire-bag-goodness. thank you for being my dinner five out of seven nights a week.

love, the girl who goes through weird six-month food obsessions.

dear new friend i made at that party last weekend:

i don’t remember your name and unfortunately that’s probably because i was 80 percent more drunk than you. but our conversation was entertaining and i wanted to thank you for being patient as i slurred my words and probably made a complete ass of myself.

cheers, your drunk bff who like, isn’t sure what type of music she likes.

dear liver:

i know, i know. you really need to be clean and that’s my responsibility and i failed you. i will abstain and try harder to keep it that way.

respectfully, your irresponsible master.

dear yoga class:

i’m so happy it’s almost break and we can spend a lot more time together.

namaste, looking for my sanity after becoming neurotic during finals week.

bright tuesday before black friday.

in conjunction with Thanksgiving (hello, favorite holiday ever):

I missed my brother today so I went home and together we made lentil soup from scratch, ate popcorn and watched Lord of the Rings.

I’m thankful for his humor, his understanding of mine and how together we use this combined humor to drive my mother insane. (because sometimes she really deserves it)

this is a new kind of blues.

So unfortunate Friday continued this past week with me getting stuck in an elevator in the oldest building on campus. This was after I basically cried a little and begged my advisor to remove the ridiculous hold on my account and let me register for classes on time. So there I was stuck in an elevator just as my registration opened. Thankfully I had full cell reception and WIFI so not only was I able to Fbook status my situation, I was also able to register for 19 glorious units as I waited to be rescued.

But don't get too excited, unfortunate Friday continued and culminated last night with another fucking car incident at 10pm in a deserted parking lot. (What the fuck life, what the fuck.) Thankfully I've never taken myself too seriously or I'm sure I would have had a complete meltdown by now. Instead I find the humor in these situations, call AAA for the thirtieth time, take mental notes for my memoir (appropriately entitled Missed Opportunities)/manuscript for the sitcom about my life, channel my frustrations into school and work and continually kick my own ass with intense gym sessions.

On another note, I'm looking forward to Thursday and seeing the Potter midnight showing in Los Angeles with A. I'm already planning my character costume and ready to let my nerd flag fly high. Then Friday I'm off to Santa Barbara for the weekend to attend a conference. Work yes, but also some play and really just a great change of scenery and a shared hotel room with two hilarious and wonderful coworkers.

I'm also looking forward to Thanksgiving. Scratch that, really looking forward to Thanksgiving. Not only is it my favorite holiday but I am counting down the hours until Best Friend and the Parisians can play. I want me some fast food excursions, afternoon bike rides, and general lazying around Alexis St.

But also, I'm looking forward to getting some rest. I tried to take a night off last week and it was almost physically impossible. I felt so guilty and anxious and I've come to realize that when I'm to the point where I feel guilty about sleeping, I have a problem.

Tonight I Skyped with Mr. Hern. I miss him so much. Tennessee needs to give him back, sooner the better.

"as purty as a lady bird."

Meet Lady Bird. She was born in 2002 but adopted from a dealership in the shady part of San Bernardino when I turned sixteen in 2006. She came home in January and waited patiently in the driveway until I got my license on my birthday, February 12, 2006. She's named after President Lyndon B. Johnson's wife during a time in which I was really into presidents and their wives. The first place we went together was Barnes and Noble, the first people we drove illegally were A and some other newspaper kids to go orange picking, and our first long-distance drive was to Disneyland. Since then our adventures have included many a late-night drive to get food, multiple beach and Northern California trips, random "let's just drive for the hell of it" drives and so many memories in between. In the summer of 2007 Best Friend dubbed her 'red hot bubble car,' not because she was sexy or anything but because her air conditioning stopped working and from then it was always hit or miss. She helped me ditch high school on multiple occasions, once carried bundles of newspapers and was once filled entirely with balloons for Mrs. Bradberry's class on a rainy day. Lady's received two speeding tickets and probably a dozen parking tickets. She's lived in Redlands, Santa Cruz, Riverside and Berkeley. She's stalled in front of the Watchers' house (so scary) and in the snow at Forest Falls. Her check engine light is eternally on but that's just her way of saying hi. She's been abandoned at a couple parks and at Panera. She's met many many boys, good and bad, and kept me safe during teary drives home when I shouldn't have been driving at all. She looks best after a good washing, loves the cheap gas at ARCO and can often be found with a crusty french fry or two left over from me and hungry friends. She hit a dog one July 4th and recently ran over a bunny. She loves the UCSC sticker she's worn forever and the Sports Chalet 'I'd rather be paddling' plate frames dad and I put on ages ago. For the longest time she carried tampons, condoms and red finger paint in her trunk for late-night pranks (real mature). She loves friends and blasting Miley/Ali Lohan/International Dance Mix/The Strokes/Top 40 radio and listening to us sing badly at the top of our lungs. She's carried up to seven people at one time but is mostly used to two, specifically me and Best Friend, and she doesn't mind his cigarette smoking.

and I don't think lady will be coming home this time and it makes me really sad. Lady Bird and I grew up together and she's helped me have so much fun over the past four years. Cars really do have personalities and their own little quirks and it's hard not to be attached. Though you were a pain in the ass a lot of the time Ms. Lady Bird, I loved you so much. Best Friend said it best, "We had some good times in that car."

*photos courtesy of I's fbook. unfortunately early photos of Lady were lost when my laptop crashed.

unfortunate fridays.

the title is the understatement of the year. so for the past month or so, something ridiculous/bad/tragic has happened involving a car and me and has prevented me from attending my last class of the day.

these events include:

-rearing ending (it was barely a tap but i still cried, go figure) a car with a baby inside.

-locking my keys in the car (luckily i unknowingly dressed like a highlighter and the tow truck man could spot me a mile away.)

-losing my car (i was really tired and dressed like katy perry with cupcake boobs.)

-my car catching on fire. (see Oct. 29)

but today, a miracle: nothing bad happened.

but maybe that's because i got a parking ticket yesterday? dgjnkfdsnf!

two years ago today

we could have done something equally (more, in my opinion) awesome.

i wore this today while working the polls. well, heckling people outside the polls that is. and i had some really profound moments that made me want to cry. i really do not fit in in the ridiculously conservative inland empire but i guess the struggle-- the dealing with people constantly hating, the people going abe shit at even hearing the word 'abortion'-- of spreading our message is all the more significant in an area where people will disagree and are, quite frankly, more ignorant. anyway, i'm going to miss this internship and from what i currently see on my computer screen here at panera, mrs. boxer will win once again. mission accomplished.