Ephemeral Smash

I found an old birthday card today, and it read, "What's this?" (Picture of a toilet) Inside the card, "It's your birthday potty. Might as well cut to the chase." Then below that, it read, "Happy Birthday Smash." I stared at the words on the page and engaged myself in all the memories that came with it. I realized that "Smash," my bold and audacious alter-ego, has been quietly receding into the shadows as a more careful and protective Ash emerges. I haven't been aware of the transition until now. But as changes go, I think this one is normal. I've changed living arrangements, jobs, friends ,boss's, reading literature . . . . as I ponder all these adjustments, and the decisions that precipitated them, I see that maybe in my subconscious, and my love-stung heart, these results happened because I realized I needed to advance.

How I Spent His Time

This title just came to me last night. I realized that when we lived together, I spent his time. It wasn't a traditional romantic relationship were two people comprised likes, dislikes, feelings, humors, etc. He was quiet and discontent with life. I was energetic and eager to please him. At the end I realized I was just occupying space in his life for a short time. It would never work between. I picked him, but he did not pick me.

During our time together my main focus everyday was how I could please him. Whatever he took pleasure in became my new passion. Camping, football, animated off-color cartoons on Comedy Central, mountain pies and indie-music. It wasn't so much that he adored these things, they were just items that passed through his life that he participated in, but the fact that he participated in them when he was such a non-participatory person, made me develop an allegiance to them. I felt that if I made them important to me he would translate my devotion to him. This is never happened. I eventually told him how I felt: blessed that he had provided me with so much pure, yet mixed-up pleasure and distraught that he never gave me the affection or consideration I deserved.

I changed. Oddly, while trying to compliment him and make him love me, I learned difficult and ugly lessons about myself. Pitiful and heartbreaking to friends and family members that saw the change and didn't accept it, but nothing felt more right than making him sandwiches at 6:30am and watching football all day while he explained the responsibilities of a QB. The smell of Suave Cucumber and Melon bodywash can still wrench my heart.

In the end he became more moody and silent. I would ask questions in a format that was reaching, and strained for some form of acceptance. And I would receive answers accusatory in manner, as if the question were not only rude, but stupid as well. The sting of one conversation would make my stomach clench. I would wait for some kind of acknowledgement and wonder whether he was playing a game with me, or whether if was possible everything was okay. As it turned out it was neither.

And that was how I spent his time.

Rhi's Birthday & Myspace Hackers

Last night I went out to Mingo at the Round in Beaverton for Rhi's birthday party. There were 11 of us and I had a fantastic time. I got to sit by Erica, which was just great by me, because she is fantastic. I ordered their Special of the Night, Braised Duck Ravioli's with Chantrelle Mushrooms in a Sage Olive Oil sauce. It was magnifico! Plus, a Limoncello Cosmo, a Ketel One martini, up, with 3 olives AND for dessert . . . a scrumptious Tiramisu. Mmmm, my mouth is watering again.

The only thing that sucked about the night was that it was so far out of Portland. I'm definitely a city girl, and Beaverton is no way, no how "the city." (I admit, I got lost trying to get back to the Pearl.)

When I got home I was going to paint my toenails, let my incredible meal digest and then go to bed, however, as I was checking my voicemails in the car on the way home I realized I had missed 6 calls. (That's normally a lot for a 2 hour time span on a Monday night.) They were all from friends who called to alert me that my Myspace account had been hacked into and someone was sending out comments that said, "Click Here for a FREE $50.00 Macy's Gift Card," and posting bulletins with the titles, "Biggest Clit" and "Penis Enlargement Pills." Lovely. So then I had to deal with that. At first, I was kinda scared. Only because I was frightened by the violation of all it. I toyed with the idea of deleting the whole account completely, but then read the security notices and just changed my account information and password. I decided I want to keep my account . . . and besides, how would I humor all my voyeuristic tendencies if I couldn't spy on all my friends and find out who-broke-up-who, who's engaged and who is about to get divorced!?!?!?!? Oh the drama . . . I would miss that!

Tonight Michelle is coming over for holiday treats, Peach Sparkltini's and great conversation. I'm hosting at my house instead of our usual "happy hour" around town. Yay! I've felt bereft of holiday cheer, but after the injection of Christmas music on repeat this morning at work and Nancee's Legendary Hot Crab Dip tonight . . . I'll be as Christmas-y as a little elf on the eve!

I only flirt with the smooth ones.

I attended 2 fantastic holiday parties this weekend. .:: My voice: Dripping with sarcasm:. One party can be categorized as I-met-a-boy-who-I-thought-was-sane, but-turned-into-a-mentally-challenged-5-year-old-with-ADD-on-steriods. The other party was almost worse because I attended a function as my Dad's "date" and ended up having to get a ride home with 2 80-year-old's because he met a woman who wanted to go dancing (and apparently spend the night at The Eugene Hilton). During the holidays, as I get older, I tend to feel like a cross between Bridget Jones (not in a "wanton sex-goddess" kind of way) and an Anna Maxted character.

Take last night for example. I arrived at my friends Christmas party completely unaware that she has changed the rules this year and everyone is supposed to come dressed up in as much holiday attire as possible. As my hosts open the door I am greeted by approx. 20 party revelers who are dressed to the nines in jangling bell christmas sweaters, red and white striped stockings, reindeer pajama bottoms and some of the most gaudy (and Goodwill's finest) holiday attire I have ever layed eyes on. And immediately I get boo'ed becuase I'm wearing black pants, black heels, and a black "boob" top. Cute, yet completely unfestive. (Guess who won the Scrooge award for the night?!?! And I am NOT a holiday grinch!)
However, things looked up when I saw my current crush standing by the tequila shots. (Side note: This crush, let's anme him "Operation Mistletoe," is a very quiet, yet pithy guy. He tends to make me smile and we've engaged in a sly flirtation for a couple of months now.) I mosey on up to him and decide to comment onhis choice attire of the evening: skin-tight, white women's pants with a tiny holly pattern, a crocheted white, brown and green Reindeer sweater, and a red Santa hat . . . White ball and all! We shoot the shit and down about 3 tequila shots over a 1/2 hour time period and suddenly, I have a feeling this will be one of those unexpected great nights.

Cut to 3 hours into the night. I am getting a little hammered, but more than drunk, I am annoyed. Operation Mistletoe has had another 5 tequila shots, plus chocolate martini's, plus dr.pepper and soco's and is running around acting like a fucking moron. This guy, who has always been so sweet and reserved has just told me for the 18th time that he can't stop staring at my boobs, he sat in the salsa 15 minutes ago, has broken my Scrooge award present, tried to put his tongue in my ear and almost fell over and took me out with him and is now running around the party with no pants on and only Christmas-inspired boxers and reindeer slippers. Oh, and he's hit on every other girl here. Another one bites the dust.

This weekend it will be round two, please pray for me that this next weekend goes better.

Ashamed Ash

It's now been 19 days since my last post and all is I can say, is "phooey!" These last few weeks have been pretty incredible, and not in a fun-wow-that-was-amazing kind of a way. Hawaii was a blast, but upon return I was irritated to find out that my irresponsible and scattered employer ( a non-profit that I will not mention names about) still had not renewed my contract and presumably was not going to. Now I have to work everything out with the contractor they DID hire. And the funniest part--- they claim they're looking out for my best interests! Ha! More like they're covering their own ass and don't want to take on any more responsibility with this project than absolutely neccessary. The whole situation is unfortunate and has made me cranky and moody lately.

I have a meeting with the contractor this week, so I'm hoping to get things resolved soon.

More once my mood changes and I can be a bit more chipper!