I'm a pretty good girl. As a child I was terrified of breaking rules, because I can't stand someone being mad at me or being punished. Once when I was in elementary school, I cheated on this game at our Halloween party in 3rd grade... There was a tray of different toys and other random things and you got to look at it for only a certain amount of time, and then it was covered up and you had to write down all the things you could remember. So I wrote down all that I could, but when they revealed the answers, I wrote down a few more because I thought, "I definitely remembered that!" I ended up winning, and I got a cute stuffed bear as a prize. Yay!
Though I was happy at first, that night I realized that I had cheated. I had won that bear through deception. I broke the rules to win, and the thought haunted my 8-year-old dreams. I looked over at the prize bear sitting on my nightstand and it seemed to taunt me, "Cheater. Cheater. Cheater." I finally couldn't take it anymore, so I took the bear and threw it into the back of my closet, covered it with a blanket and pretended it had never happened.
In middle school, I had a couple run-ins with a teacher that seemed to despise me. I had him in 7th grade for home room, where we spent very little time. My desk was right next to the chalk board. One time I was playing with the chalk dust, and was writing "Hi" on the board while he was talking. He looked at me and said, "Ashley, stop that please." So I did, but when I thought he wasn't looking, I dotted the "i" because it just wasn't complete without it. There! Perfect.
"Ashley." He said. I instantly froze. Uh-oh. "Come with me." Oh my God! Oh my God oh my God oh my God. I followed him out into the hall, the eyes of my classmates following me across the room and through the door. He turned to me, and began. "...need to learn to obey when a teacher talks to you..." "...extremely disrespectful..." "...immature behavior..." I don't even remember what he said because I was in so much shock at being reprimanded that I could barely hear what he was saying. I just nodded and tried not to look right at him, for fear his eyes would burn into my soul.
It didn't help that the next year in 8th grade, my social studies teacher's classroom was right across the hall from his, and he just happened to find me at my worst yet again. A student named Veronica who was in my class had not completed her spelling packet. She was my friend, and I felt bad for her because English was her second language. About 15 minutes before class started and the packet was due, I took her out into the hall and helped her fill in some of the things she hadn't completed... when suddenly I felt eyes on me, and turned around to find HIM standing there. "Ashley." he said, his voice full of disdain. "And what is your name." He asked Veronica. She told him, and nodded. "Come with me."
This time, I was less fearful and simply pissed. HOW does this evil man appear every time I do something wrong?! I am a good kid! I'm a good student! I rarely do anything wrong, how does he know when to show up?! Does he have a radar or something?! I sat with my arms crossed as he lectured both of us in his classroom, refusing to look at him. He then brought our teacher in to rat us out. I don't even remember the punishment, but seriously, I'm sure I blocked it out because that guy was an asshole.
I'm not a troublemaker; I don't normally do things that I shouldn't. I generally like rules, but sometimes, and I'm sure everyone feels like this at some point, I want to break them. Just a little bit.
It is the summer after I graduated college. I am feeling a little lost, just waiting around for September to come so that I can head off to Spain for almost a year. But the waiting is making me a little reckless.
I am at a party at my then-boyfriend's house, Tyler. We all decide to head over to the local dive bar, The Peacock. Before heading out, Tyler's roommate grabs a Keystone Light. Corvallis has a strict No Open Container rule, but we don't care! We are tipsy and heading off to go dancing, what's the harm in bringing a little bit of beer for the long walk over there? We are all of age, no big deal.
We are passing the beer around so everyone can enjoy it. At one point, I have the beer and am sipping and chatting and can't hear the warning mutterings of one of my friends, "There's a cop, there's a cop, there's a cop..."
"And then, Olivia, do you know what he said?! He said --"
"THERE'S A COP!" Someone yells, and sure enough, driving right towards us is a police car.
I look at the beer can in my hand, look at the police car, and then fling the beer can from my hand. It thumps into the tall grass growing next to the railroad tracks.
"Weeeeeeeooooohh!" The lights come on, the siren screams, and I just stand there. Shit.
The cop car whips around and pulls up right next to us. The rest of my friends back away but I walk right up to the officer. Obviously, I am the one in trouble here.
"Miss." The officer says. "Can I see your license." I give it to him. "Did you just throw a beer can into the grass?"
"Yes."
"Go pick it up."
"... Really?" I ask. He stares at me. I glare back at him, then turn and walk into the grass. This is so stupid. What a jerk, I can't believe he's making me do this, I will never find that damn beer can! It's dark, and this is a freaking field. There is no way.... Suddenly, I see a silver can and reach down and grab it, and start walking back towards the car. Something isn't exactly right with this beer, but I ignore the suspicion.
The officer is writing up my ticket, and I stand in front of him, holding the beer can. The officer looks up from writing and then does a double take.
"... Is that a full beer can?"
I look down at the beer. "Yes." This is obviously not the same beer I flung in the grass...
The officer glares at me and continues writing up the ticket. I am vaguely surprised that I am holding a full beer can, but I try to act like I don't care what happens to me now. I'm totally cool. ALSO I'm a bad ass. Yep.
Someone comes on over the radio and the officer's partner pulls him away for a second. He comes back and says to me, "Tonight is your lucky night, we just got called in for a burglary." Then he turns, gets into his car, and they drive away.
I stand there, stunned, holding a full beer can. What the hell just happened?! I almost got an outrageous ticket that would show up on my record and drain me of any money I had saved for Spain... it's a miracle! My friends rush over after the officer leaves, asking me what happened. I just show them the beer.
"Oh my god, where did you get that?!" They ask. They are surprised then laughing as they congratulate me on my close call. Then Tyler's roommate reaches out and grabs the beer, cracks it open, takes a long drink, and we continue walking to the Peacock.
I guess we can't always be good.
Friday, June 21, 2013
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
This is war!
"We can't let Kyle win again."
"He hasn't won yet. The day is not over."
"Yeah but that was a pretty good picture, how can we beat that?" I ask Claire.
"We will have to think of something good... Peter, what is his favorite anime show?"
Claire, Peter, and I are sitting on our couch drinking wine (Peter is drinking coke and vodka) and watching How I Met Your Mother, as we normally do after work to relax. Kyle is on a "business trip" in Seattle, but from what I gather, it seems to be more of a vacation... what business trips involve Go-Karting and yummy sushi dinners?! Either way, earlier that day I had sent a photo to all three of them; there is a Buddha statue in my office and I had put my sunglasses on it and rolled a post-it note and held it up to his mouth, with the caption, "Buddha is ready for summer."
I got an "Lol" from Peter and an "Are you going to kiss that Buddha too?" (another story) from Claire. But Kyle sent us all the text, "Get back to work... see like me" with a photo of him staring up at a blue sky with white boats floating on the water in the background. Shit.
This was not the first time Kyle had sent an instant winner to the group. During our first official roomie dinner after we had moved in, Kyle was still in Hawaii. The text was, "First roomie dinner and you're not here! We love our house!!! Also, fries" with a picture of Claire and Peter smiling, but flipping him off. He sent a photo back of him giving us the middle finger as well, but in the background was a white-sand beach with palm trees and the ocean waves. There was no argument. Win.
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Claire and I had won once also; after a long photo battle, we stunned him with a photo of Claire's hedgehog, Penelope, in a red solo cup with the caption, "My drink is spiked!" He knew defeat when he saw it. "Too good." He replied. Claire and I high-fived at our victory.
But today, we were not going to let him win so easily. Peter thinks about our question and decides on an anime show, which we pull up and pause at a particularly cool scene. Then, Claire and I go stand on either side of the TV. We hold peace signs up to our faces with one hand, and in the others, I have an (empty) bottle of vodka and Claire holds Penelope. We think this is pretty good. Send.
We are anxious to see what Kyle sends back, but while we are waiting we continue to watch our show. After about 15 minutes, Peter's phone beeps and we whip our heads around to stare at him.
"Oh no he didn't!!" Peter exclaims, and shows us the photo. It is a picture of Kyle with a beer, sitting next to a pool, with his computer. "He's gaming!" Peter explains to us.
"Damn!" Claire says.
"THIS IS WAR!" I say. "Claire! We are going to go upstairs and put on our booby-est shirts. Then we are going to go get pina coladas or another kind of fruity drink and send Kyle a picture!"
"Yes!" She yells, and we rush upstairs to prep ourselves. Never mind that it's 9:30 at night. This is serious business.
Luckily, earlier that day I had been browsing youtube and stumbled upon Jenna Marbles's video log. This girl is hilarious, I had seen some of her videos before, but today I found a tutorial on how to make your boobs look bigger. I am thrilled that I can put this information to use so soon after watching the video. In case you are wondering, her steps to making your boobs look bigger are:
1. Wear two bras
2. Safety pin the straps together right behind your neck
3. Put a sock under the bottom/outside part of your boobs to push them up.
4. Bronze your boobs.
5. Work out your upper body.
I do steps 1 and 3, and it really works! I am pretty proud of the results and have never seen them more alive. Then I put on a low-cut shirt. "Claire! I have steps to make your boobs seem bigger!" I yell to her across the hall.
"I don't need steps, they are good enough as they are." Claire says. It's true. Claire doesn't really need extra help to make hers look awesome.
So we grab our purses and go downstairs, where Peter is waiting. "Whoa! Lookin good!" he says. Muahahaha. I smell victory.
We walk from our house to our normal bar and sit down at a booth. The bartender comes over and asks us what we would like to drink. "Give us the fruitiest, girliest looking drinks you have." I say. "We are at war." Claire and Peter nod in agreement. The bartender looks confused only for a second, but then turns away towards the bar.
"Oh! And some fries!" Peter yells. Claire and I nod in agreement. The bartender is on it.
While we wait for our drinks, we admire our boobs some more and strategize. "Should we send a picture now of just the boobs? Or wait until we have the drinks?" Peter asks. He seems to be enjoying this.
"Maybe boobs first, and then after he responds, we add the drinks?" Claire suggests.
"No, I think we just go for it. Boobs and drinks, all at once. We want to WIN." I say.
They agree.
The drinks arrive, and we get excited about how girly they look. Bright green, with a garnish of lemon and a bright red maraschino cherry on top. I wish we had a little umbrella, but oh well. This will have to do.
Claire and I grasp our drinks in one hand, and use our arms to push our boobs together to make them have the maximum cleavage possible. Then we look at Peter, who is sitting on the other side of the table and has his phone already out. We smile, but then I think of something.
"Wait!" I say, and Peter lowers his phone a bit. "We should look at each other like maybe we are about to kiss." I say. Claire turns her head to look at me and we burst out laughing. We pull ourselves together and tell Peter to hurry, before we start giggling again.
He takes the photo, says, "Niiiiiiiice!" and then shows it to us. It really is perfect. How could anything Kyle send us beat that? Our boobs are boob-a-licious, and the drinks are so girly that Kyle will wish he had one. Peter sends it. "If that doesn't work, we will just have to go to Taco Bell and take a picture there." Peter adds. It's true, that would be our last line of defense; Kyle is truly in love with Taco Bell. But I don't see how he could top that picture.
We go home, laughing at ourselves and pretty sure of our victory. Kyle hasn't responded yet, and since it's now 10:30 and we have to work tomorrow, we head to bed. Claire and I are in our rooms when we hear Peter yell, "KYLE RESPONDED!" Peter comes up the stairs and Claire and I rush out of our rooms, excited to see his response.
It is simply a one-lined text message: Those are some juicy looking... drinks?
"I'm taking that as a victory!" Claire says. We all cheer and high-five yet again and congratulate ourselves on a job well done. The effort we put in to this war was obviously worth it. Win!
"He hasn't won yet. The day is not over."
"Yeah but that was a pretty good picture, how can we beat that?" I ask Claire.
"We will have to think of something good... Peter, what is his favorite anime show?"
Claire, Peter, and I are sitting on our couch drinking wine (Peter is drinking coke and vodka) and watching How I Met Your Mother, as we normally do after work to relax. Kyle is on a "business trip" in Seattle, but from what I gather, it seems to be more of a vacation... what business trips involve Go-Karting and yummy sushi dinners?! Either way, earlier that day I had sent a photo to all three of them; there is a Buddha statue in my office and I had put my sunglasses on it and rolled a post-it note and held it up to his mouth, with the caption, "Buddha is ready for summer."
This was not the first time Kyle had sent an instant winner to the group. During our first official roomie dinner after we had moved in, Kyle was still in Hawaii. The text was, "First roomie dinner and you're not here! We love our house!!! Also, fries" with a picture of Claire and Peter smiling, but flipping him off. He sent a photo back of him giving us the middle finger as well, but in the background was a white-sand beach with palm trees and the ocean waves. There was no argument. Win.
Claire and I had won once also; after a long photo battle, we stunned him with a photo of Claire's hedgehog, Penelope, in a red solo cup with the caption, "My drink is spiked!" He knew defeat when he saw it. "Too good." He replied. Claire and I high-fived at our victory.
But today, we were not going to let him win so easily. Peter thinks about our question and decides on an anime show, which we pull up and pause at a particularly cool scene. Then, Claire and I go stand on either side of the TV. We hold peace signs up to our faces with one hand, and in the others, I have an (empty) bottle of vodka and Claire holds Penelope. We think this is pretty good. Send.
We are anxious to see what Kyle sends back, but while we are waiting we continue to watch our show. After about 15 minutes, Peter's phone beeps and we whip our heads around to stare at him.
"Oh no he didn't!!" Peter exclaims, and shows us the photo. It is a picture of Kyle with a beer, sitting next to a pool, with his computer. "He's gaming!" Peter explains to us.
"Damn!" Claire says.
"THIS IS WAR!" I say. "Claire! We are going to go upstairs and put on our booby-est shirts. Then we are going to go get pina coladas or another kind of fruity drink and send Kyle a picture!"
"Yes!" She yells, and we rush upstairs to prep ourselves. Never mind that it's 9:30 at night. This is serious business.
Luckily, earlier that day I had been browsing youtube and stumbled upon Jenna Marbles's video log. This girl is hilarious, I had seen some of her videos before, but today I found a tutorial on how to make your boobs look bigger. I am thrilled that I can put this information to use so soon after watching the video. In case you are wondering, her steps to making your boobs look bigger are:
1. Wear two bras
2. Safety pin the straps together right behind your neck
3. Put a sock under the bottom/outside part of your boobs to push them up.
4. Bronze your boobs.
5. Work out your upper body.
I do steps 1 and 3, and it really works! I am pretty proud of the results and have never seen them more alive. Then I put on a low-cut shirt. "Claire! I have steps to make your boobs seem bigger!" I yell to her across the hall.
"I don't need steps, they are good enough as they are." Claire says. It's true. Claire doesn't really need extra help to make hers look awesome.
So we grab our purses and go downstairs, where Peter is waiting. "Whoa! Lookin good!" he says. Muahahaha. I smell victory.
We walk from our house to our normal bar and sit down at a booth. The bartender comes over and asks us what we would like to drink. "Give us the fruitiest, girliest looking drinks you have." I say. "We are at war." Claire and Peter nod in agreement. The bartender looks confused only for a second, but then turns away towards the bar.
"Oh! And some fries!" Peter yells. Claire and I nod in agreement. The bartender is on it.
While we wait for our drinks, we admire our boobs some more and strategize. "Should we send a picture now of just the boobs? Or wait until we have the drinks?" Peter asks. He seems to be enjoying this.
"Maybe boobs first, and then after he responds, we add the drinks?" Claire suggests.
"No, I think we just go for it. Boobs and drinks, all at once. We want to WIN." I say.
They agree.
The drinks arrive, and we get excited about how girly they look. Bright green, with a garnish of lemon and a bright red maraschino cherry on top. I wish we had a little umbrella, but oh well. This will have to do.
Claire and I grasp our drinks in one hand, and use our arms to push our boobs together to make them have the maximum cleavage possible. Then we look at Peter, who is sitting on the other side of the table and has his phone already out. We smile, but then I think of something.
"Wait!" I say, and Peter lowers his phone a bit. "We should look at each other like maybe we are about to kiss." I say. Claire turns her head to look at me and we burst out laughing. We pull ourselves together and tell Peter to hurry, before we start giggling again.
He takes the photo, says, "Niiiiiiiice!" and then shows it to us. It really is perfect. How could anything Kyle send us beat that? Our boobs are boob-a-licious, and the drinks are so girly that Kyle will wish he had one. Peter sends it. "If that doesn't work, we will just have to go to Taco Bell and take a picture there." Peter adds. It's true, that would be our last line of defense; Kyle is truly in love with Taco Bell. But I don't see how he could top that picture.
We go home, laughing at ourselves and pretty sure of our victory. Kyle hasn't responded yet, and since it's now 10:30 and we have to work tomorrow, we head to bed. Claire and I are in our rooms when we hear Peter yell, "KYLE RESPONDED!" Peter comes up the stairs and Claire and I rush out of our rooms, excited to see his response.
It is simply a one-lined text message: Those are some juicy looking... drinks?
"I'm taking that as a victory!" Claire says. We all cheer and high-five yet again and congratulate ourselves on a job well done. The effort we put in to this war was obviously worth it. Win!
Monday, June 17, 2013
Sunday, June 16, 2013
The Dream of the 90's is Alive at My Birthday
Friday was my birthday, which started with a text at 5:30 AM from my dad. It woke me up, and I KNEW it was him. My dad hates texting, but for some reason on our birthdays he always texts us Happy Birthday. Though this may seem strange to you and I, it seems to make perfect sense to him and therefore nowadays we just let it slide. What I am sure went through his head was this:
What the hell, the pain in my hands woke me up AGAIN. Well now that I'm up, I better think of something productive to do, because time is wasted if you're not being productive. I could roof the barn, or I could feed the horses, or I could re-route the creek to go around that tree, where can I get a good bulldozer? Well it's Friday so what's on my schedule today... June 14... Something happens on June 14... JUNE 14! It's Ashley's birthday! My first-born child! Oh man, and it's 5:30 in the morning, there is no way I will remember to call her later in the day, it's a surprise I even remembered right now! ... I should just text her now, before I forget. 5:30 in the morning? Oh well, she can handle it, at least I remembered her birthday!
Or something like that.
I did end up talking to him later in the day, but only because my step-mom Laurie called and they were all in the car together. But you know what, my dad is awesome, so it's all good.
But after that 5:30 am text that woke me up, I put my phone on silent. No one else better wake me up on my day to sleep in! At 8:30 when I did finally get up, sure enough there was a few calls and a few texts, and one voicemail from my sister: "... Haaaaaappy Flag Day!" She began, then proceeded to giggle and backtrack and ramble on about Flag Days and birthdays, I was laughing hysterically though, and gave her a call back.
"Hello? Hi Ash!"
"Hey Britt! Thanks for the Happy Flag Day!"
"I know, I though it was so funny but I totally messed it up, I just kept rambling on and I was thinking, 'STOP TALKING! YOU ARE RUINING YOUR OWN JOKE!' But I kept talking and couldn't stop myself."
"That's okay, it was still funny."
"Oh good. I'm so excited to give you this present."
"What is it?"
"I can't tell you!"
"Is it a beanie baby? Or a large pencil?"
"HA! No! I wish! Those things were awesome! You know, like in Zoolander 'What is this, a school for ants?' But instead, 'What is this, a pencil for a giant?' Ha ha ha!"
We proceed to giggle for about 30 whole seconds.
"Hey are you going to drink a mimosa for your birthday?"
"No, I am going wine tasting today and I don't want to be passed out by 6:00, my face on the table."
"Ha ha, you would be face-in-food tired. I'm going to start using that! I'm face-in-food tired!"
Giggling for about 20 more seconds.
"Ash, I have decided I want to meet someone."
"Okay! You should start taking classes, you know, you live in Bend so there are a ton of classes and stuff for outdoor activities, like kayaking or rock climbing..."
"Yeah I was thinking about doing that!"
"You should! It would be a great way to meet new people who are similar to you."
"But it costs money."
"So? We are young and agile and we have money and we want to meet new people so we should just do it! You know, I'm taking a sailing class. And I plan on meeting a sailor and falling in love and getting married and being swept off into the sunset on our yacht that we will sail around the world together."
"You mean, on your sailboat?"
"No, I mean on our yacht. Did I say sailing classes? I meant yachting classes. They teach you how to work out a lot so that you have a hot body to show off when you are sitting on your yacht, also they teach you how to drink a martini correctly and how to choose the best sunglasses and put on sunscreen sexily."
"Oh that sounds like a good class!"
"I'm looking forward to it."
And so on.
At 11:00 I met up with Julie and we drove over to Hood River, which is a town about an hour from Portland. This town is CUTE. It is right on the Columbia River so on this beautiful day we could watch people wind surfing and kite surfing right from where we ate lunch. And the best thing about this town (besides all the wine) is the fact that it looks like it would be in the Willamette Valley in regards to how green it is, but it gets much less rain than the Valley. The best of both worlds!
Julie and I started at Naked Winery, where we had a flight of wine each. The wines had names like "Penetration Cabernet Sauvignon" and "Foreplay Chardonnay," which kept the sexual innuendos rolling all afternoon. The people pouring the wine didn't seem to get tired of them though, which made us think that perhaps they employed recovering sex addicts. We then spent the day driving around in the beautiful weather to several more wineries and vineyards in the area. Hood River is truly a gorgeous place. We had a wonderful time sitting in the sun, sipping on some Italian red, and sending pictures of what we were doing to people who weren't with us to make them jealous.
At one point, out of nowhere, Julie states, "I knew I was an alcoholic when I was in 2nd grade and was more excited about drinking the blood of Christ than actually creating a relationship with God."
I stared at her for a second. "Are you quoting something or is that your real life?"
She stares back at me. "What? No, I'm not quoting anything."
"So you really just said that?"
"Yeah!"
My friends rule. So around 5:00 we made our way to I-84 and started heading back towards Portland. The plan was to meet up with my roommates Claire, Kyle and Peter at McMennamins - Edgefield for dinner. I had never been to Edgefield before, but it had been described to me as a kind of adult Disneyland. After going, however, I would change that description to an adult Enchanted Forest. But instead of finding fairy tale creatures in those little random houses interspersed in the woods, at Edgefield you find magical sorcerers called Bartenders and their magic potion, Alcohol. There was a little hobbit house with a bar squished in it. There were some stables that had been converted into a bar. The basement of the hotel was a winery and a random storage area on the side of the hotel was a bar. Bars were everywhere! I felt like Hansel and Gretel, wandering around with Julie in the woods, suddenly discovering magical houses made of our vice and deciding to consume them. There was a restaurant and a garden and even a place for concerts to take place, which really fulfills any dreams I have of fairy tale kingdoms. Edgefield has magic in its veins. Some places are special like that.
We spent the evening exploring this enchanted place. It was a wonderful birthday experience, but my real party wasn't until the next day. 90's night at the Crystal Ballroom (it was a McMennamins weekend!). I had never been to 90's night before, or the Crystal Ballroom for that matter, but I had high hopes for it. Who wouldn't have fun getting tipsy and dancing to Backstreet Boys, N'Sync, The Spice Girls, and other washed-up 90's bands for several hours? The best part, however, was how enthusiastically my friends embraced this night and put an effort into their outfits. I could describe them to you, but I think it may be better just to show you a picture:
This is just me, my sisters, and my roommates. Even more people showed up later and they were just as enthusiastically dressed! So pretty soon after this photo we hopped on a bus downtown, walked about 8 blocks and showed up at 90's night. As soon as we entered, they gave us all three glow sticks: one to put around our necks and two for our wrists. It was fantastic! We went immediately to the bar and I said, "Give me the cheapest beer you have" I had lost my buzz on the bus ride and needed to get back up to dancing-in-public tipsy, which really doesn't take much for me. So the guy gives me a Pabst for $4.50! Most expensive Pabst I have EVER purchased.
So then after I finish the extortion that was my beer, we started dancing! Some of the songs we didn't recognize at first, but the later the night became, the better the songs were. This may sound weird to some people, but at one point my boss, our other attorney friend, and my co-worker all showed up too! I was so stoked! I truly enjoy spending time with these people, even outside of work. So we danced and danced and DANCED. As soon as I thought I was too tired to go on, the next song would come on and it would be so good that there was no way I could leave. We were all so sweaty and hot but we could NOT stop dancing or laughing. Additionally, my youngest sister Cassy just turned 21 so this was the first time that all three of us were able to go out together, which made this night even more awesome.
At one point, while I am grooving around with my bestie Claire, a guy taps me on the shoulder. "You guys seem to be the life of the party!" He yells over the music. I look around at my friends; Brittany has on only her overalls and a sports bra and is gyrating behind Cassy, who has her hands up in the air and whipping her hair around; Kyle is doing an exuberant running man move, Peter is fist pumping while jumping up and down, Claire is moving her hips as much as humanly possible without knocking herself over, and everyone else is pretty much being just as crazy. I am so proud.
"Yeah! We really are!" I yell back.
"Do you want to dance with me?!" He yells at me.
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" I say, staring at him, not able to think of an answer, "hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" He stares back at me, "hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" why can't I answer him?! Stop saying that!
"...I'll just come back later." He says, looking pretty weirded out, then turns and walks away. I immediately forgot this as soon as it happened and turned back around to dance with my friends, but later I realized that this would be the perfect way to get rid of unwanted male attention, as long as you don't mind looking like a complete idiot.
By 12:30 we are completely exhausted and most of us are just a little tipsy, not even drunk, which I think is the perfect way to end the night. We decide to get a cab and go home. The guy who picks us up says he only has room for five people and gallantly, the four men let us girls grab the first cab. As we drive around the block to get on I-405, we wave to the guys as we drive by, and the cab driver asks, "Do they need a ride too? They can just squeeze in the back of my van." Us girls get pretty excited, and as soon as the cab stops I jump out and wave down the boys, who come running and jump in the back. They barely fit but we got 10 people in that little vehicle that only had one back seat and then some trunk space. We were in a freaking clown car.
So, 90's night was more than a success, and I think it's safe to say it's the best birthday I've ever had. There is really nothing better than mixing a little alcohol, a lot of 90's music, glow sticks, ridiculous outfits and my amazing sisters and friends into one flyyyy night.
What the hell, the pain in my hands woke me up AGAIN. Well now that I'm up, I better think of something productive to do, because time is wasted if you're not being productive. I could roof the barn, or I could feed the horses, or I could re-route the creek to go around that tree, where can I get a good bulldozer? Well it's Friday so what's on my schedule today... June 14... Something happens on June 14... JUNE 14! It's Ashley's birthday! My first-born child! Oh man, and it's 5:30 in the morning, there is no way I will remember to call her later in the day, it's a surprise I even remembered right now! ... I should just text her now, before I forget. 5:30 in the morning? Oh well, she can handle it, at least I remembered her birthday!
Or something like that.
I did end up talking to him later in the day, but only because my step-mom Laurie called and they were all in the car together. But you know what, my dad is awesome, so it's all good.
But after that 5:30 am text that woke me up, I put my phone on silent. No one else better wake me up on my day to sleep in! At 8:30 when I did finally get up, sure enough there was a few calls and a few texts, and one voicemail from my sister: "... Haaaaaappy Flag Day!" She began, then proceeded to giggle and backtrack and ramble on about Flag Days and birthdays, I was laughing hysterically though, and gave her a call back.
"Hello? Hi Ash!"
"Hey Britt! Thanks for the Happy Flag Day!"
"I know, I though it was so funny but I totally messed it up, I just kept rambling on and I was thinking, 'STOP TALKING! YOU ARE RUINING YOUR OWN JOKE!' But I kept talking and couldn't stop myself."
"That's okay, it was still funny."
"Oh good. I'm so excited to give you this present."
"What is it?"
"I can't tell you!"
"Is it a beanie baby? Or a large pencil?"
"HA! No! I wish! Those things were awesome! You know, like in Zoolander 'What is this, a school for ants?' But instead, 'What is this, a pencil for a giant?' Ha ha ha!"
We proceed to giggle for about 30 whole seconds.
"Hey are you going to drink a mimosa for your birthday?"
"No, I am going wine tasting today and I don't want to be passed out by 6:00, my face on the table."
"Ha ha, you would be face-in-food tired. I'm going to start using that! I'm face-in-food tired!"
Giggling for about 20 more seconds.
"Ash, I have decided I want to meet someone."
"Okay! You should start taking classes, you know, you live in Bend so there are a ton of classes and stuff for outdoor activities, like kayaking or rock climbing..."
"Yeah I was thinking about doing that!"
"You should! It would be a great way to meet new people who are similar to you."
"But it costs money."
"So? We are young and agile and we have money and we want to meet new people so we should just do it! You know, I'm taking a sailing class. And I plan on meeting a sailor and falling in love and getting married and being swept off into the sunset on our yacht that we will sail around the world together."
"You mean, on your sailboat?"
"No, I mean on our yacht. Did I say sailing classes? I meant yachting classes. They teach you how to work out a lot so that you have a hot body to show off when you are sitting on your yacht, also they teach you how to drink a martini correctly and how to choose the best sunglasses and put on sunscreen sexily."
"Oh that sounds like a good class!"
"I'm looking forward to it."
And so on.
At 11:00 I met up with Julie and we drove over to Hood River, which is a town about an hour from Portland. This town is CUTE. It is right on the Columbia River so on this beautiful day we could watch people wind surfing and kite surfing right from where we ate lunch. And the best thing about this town (besides all the wine) is the fact that it looks like it would be in the Willamette Valley in regards to how green it is, but it gets much less rain than the Valley. The best of both worlds!
Julie and I started at Naked Winery, where we had a flight of wine each. The wines had names like "Penetration Cabernet Sauvignon" and "Foreplay Chardonnay," which kept the sexual innuendos rolling all afternoon. The people pouring the wine didn't seem to get tired of them though, which made us think that perhaps they employed recovering sex addicts. We then spent the day driving around in the beautiful weather to several more wineries and vineyards in the area. Hood River is truly a gorgeous place. We had a wonderful time sitting in the sun, sipping on some Italian red, and sending pictures of what we were doing to people who weren't with us to make them jealous.
At one point, out of nowhere, Julie states, "I knew I was an alcoholic when I was in 2nd grade and was more excited about drinking the blood of Christ than actually creating a relationship with God."
I stared at her for a second. "Are you quoting something or is that your real life?"
She stares back at me. "What? No, I'm not quoting anything."
"So you really just said that?"
"Yeah!"
My friends rule. So around 5:00 we made our way to I-84 and started heading back towards Portland. The plan was to meet up with my roommates Claire, Kyle and Peter at McMennamins - Edgefield for dinner. I had never been to Edgefield before, but it had been described to me as a kind of adult Disneyland. After going, however, I would change that description to an adult Enchanted Forest. But instead of finding fairy tale creatures in those little random houses interspersed in the woods, at Edgefield you find magical sorcerers called Bartenders and their magic potion, Alcohol. There was a little hobbit house with a bar squished in it. There were some stables that had been converted into a bar. The basement of the hotel was a winery and a random storage area on the side of the hotel was a bar. Bars were everywhere! I felt like Hansel and Gretel, wandering around with Julie in the woods, suddenly discovering magical houses made of our vice and deciding to consume them. There was a restaurant and a garden and even a place for concerts to take place, which really fulfills any dreams I have of fairy tale kingdoms. Edgefield has magic in its veins. Some places are special like that.
We spent the evening exploring this enchanted place. It was a wonderful birthday experience, but my real party wasn't until the next day. 90's night at the Crystal Ballroom (it was a McMennamins weekend!). I had never been to 90's night before, or the Crystal Ballroom for that matter, but I had high hopes for it. Who wouldn't have fun getting tipsy and dancing to Backstreet Boys, N'Sync, The Spice Girls, and other washed-up 90's bands for several hours? The best part, however, was how enthusiastically my friends embraced this night and put an effort into their outfits. I could describe them to you, but I think it may be better just to show you a picture:
This is just me, my sisters, and my roommates. Even more people showed up later and they were just as enthusiastically dressed! So pretty soon after this photo we hopped on a bus downtown, walked about 8 blocks and showed up at 90's night. As soon as we entered, they gave us all three glow sticks: one to put around our necks and two for our wrists. It was fantastic! We went immediately to the bar and I said, "Give me the cheapest beer you have" I had lost my buzz on the bus ride and needed to get back up to dancing-in-public tipsy, which really doesn't take much for me. So the guy gives me a Pabst for $4.50! Most expensive Pabst I have EVER purchased.
So then after I finish the extortion that was my beer, we started dancing! Some of the songs we didn't recognize at first, but the later the night became, the better the songs were. This may sound weird to some people, but at one point my boss, our other attorney friend, and my co-worker all showed up too! I was so stoked! I truly enjoy spending time with these people, even outside of work. So we danced and danced and DANCED. As soon as I thought I was too tired to go on, the next song would come on and it would be so good that there was no way I could leave. We were all so sweaty and hot but we could NOT stop dancing or laughing. Additionally, my youngest sister Cassy just turned 21 so this was the first time that all three of us were able to go out together, which made this night even more awesome.
At one point, while I am grooving around with my bestie Claire, a guy taps me on the shoulder. "You guys seem to be the life of the party!" He yells over the music. I look around at my friends; Brittany has on only her overalls and a sports bra and is gyrating behind Cassy, who has her hands up in the air and whipping her hair around; Kyle is doing an exuberant running man move, Peter is fist pumping while jumping up and down, Claire is moving her hips as much as humanly possible without knocking herself over, and everyone else is pretty much being just as crazy. I am so proud.
"Yeah! We really are!" I yell back.
"Do you want to dance with me?!" He yells at me.
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" I say, staring at him, not able to think of an answer, "hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" He stares back at me, "hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" why can't I answer him?! Stop saying that!
"...I'll just come back later." He says, looking pretty weirded out, then turns and walks away. I immediately forgot this as soon as it happened and turned back around to dance with my friends, but later I realized that this would be the perfect way to get rid of unwanted male attention, as long as you don't mind looking like a complete idiot.
By 12:30 we are completely exhausted and most of us are just a little tipsy, not even drunk, which I think is the perfect way to end the night. We decide to get a cab and go home. The guy who picks us up says he only has room for five people and gallantly, the four men let us girls grab the first cab. As we drive around the block to get on I-405, we wave to the guys as we drive by, and the cab driver asks, "Do they need a ride too? They can just squeeze in the back of my van." Us girls get pretty excited, and as soon as the cab stops I jump out and wave down the boys, who come running and jump in the back. They barely fit but we got 10 people in that little vehicle that only had one back seat and then some trunk space. We were in a freaking clown car.
So, 90's night was more than a success, and I think it's safe to say it's the best birthday I've ever had. There is really nothing better than mixing a little alcohol, a lot of 90's music, glow sticks, ridiculous outfits and my amazing sisters and friends into one flyyyy night.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Fighter
So I have this great boss. She is extremely intelligent, funny, caring, and enjoys taking us out for a good happy hour every now and then. But one thing that she is notorious for is turning her work in to the court at the very last moment possible. She is NEVER late, but she's like I was in college: I'll get it in on time, but not a moment sooner if I don't have to. We have procrastination down to an art form.
Often we cut it so close that she has to walk whatever needs to be turned in down to the court, leaving our office at 3:30 when the court closes at 4:00. Like I said, nothing is EVER late. We know how to work this. So one day, she needs to get something turned into the court, but she has a consultation at 3:00 and will not be able to run it down there herself. So I am put up to the task of delivering it by 4:00. This will be my first time turning anything in on her behalf but I know where the court is, only a 15 minute walk away. Easy.
So I am walking along one of the busiest streets in Portland, 5th Avenue, at 3:45 in the afternoon, and am one block from the court when I feel a slight pull near my arm and suddenly I am being wrestled with, with what I quickly realize is someone who is trying to take my purse! I am in complete shock as I cling to my purse for dear life as this guy is trying to yank it from my arms. I can't understand what is going on, but there is no WAY someone is getting this from me! It's got my life in it! As I comprehend that I'm getting mugged, I cling to it even tighter. This is MINE. I feel myself starting to fall slowly backwards as I try to get away from this asshole but am kept from falling completely over because the mugger still is trying hard to get my purse from me. I suddenly vaguely realize that this guy could have a weapon. I finally find my voice and yell, "LEAVE ME ALONE!" And it dawns on our onlookers that I am being attacked. Finally some guy comes to my rescue and pulls him off of me and I fall completely to the ground. I stare as the guy tries to fight him, but the mugger twists away and starts walking quickly down the street. I don't think I can move.
My rescuer and a bunch of other people come instantly towards me. One gives me their hand and helps me up. "Are you okay?!" Several people ask me. I analyze myself. I'm not hurt, I still have my purse (thank god!) but I'm shaking.
"I think so." I say, and I look around at the small group huddled around me. "This never happens!" I shriek. "How can that happen?"
"I know." The guy says. "I saw him on you but at first I just thought he was your friend, but then you started yelling and I knew something wasn't right." It seems that my onlookers were in just as much disbelief as I was that something like this would actually happen HERE. In PORTLAND. In the middle of the day on a busy street. I assume he's some white meth head who just had a bad court date and was far from thinking about what was smart or sane. "This never happens." I repeat again. I can't stop saying it.
Suddenly, I'm pissed. I've traveled through Mexico and all over Europe, and this never happened. I was prepared and ready for it, but it had never happened. And then I'm home, in MY city, completely unsuspecting and feeling safe, and THAT is when someone decides to try and mug me?! I feel totally betrayed. But then the more I think about it, the more I realize that if this could happen here, in my home, it could happen anywhere. So if bad things could happen anywhere, what's keeping me from traveling everywhere? I kind of feel freed from the preconception that home is safe and everywhere else is a potential hazard. Everywhere has it's risks, and as long as you are aware of it, you could go anywhere. Maybe it's my traumatized brain talking, but it makes sense. At least now I know that I will fight for what's important (my purse) instead of getting scared and letting go (of my purse).
Someone has called the police, and the guy that helped me and a woman who witnessed everything have decided to stay and talk to the police with me. I look down and miraculously, the documents my boss wanted me to turn in are still in one piece, clutched in my right hand. Suddenly, I panic. What time is it?! I look at the clock and it says 3:50. "I have to go!" I say. My two companions stare at me. "I have to turn this in before 4:00, in THAT building. My boss will kill me!" I point to a building a block away. I look at them, and they seem confused. "Stay right here, I'll be right back!" I say, and rush off down the road to the court.
I enter the building, still shaking, and go straight towards the elevators. A woman walking through the building looks at me, points, and says, "You're the girl that got attacked!" Yeah, you're right. Thanks woman for all your help out there! Glad to know that you watched the whole thing but did nothing. "Yeah," I say, give a little smile, and slam the elevator button again.
I end up getting the petition turned in a few minutes before 4:00, phew! I go back outside and see that the two people I left behind are still standing there, but still no police. I see a police car drive by, but they don't stop. I wait there for about 5 more minutes, but after 20 minutes of someone calling the police and still no show, I don't stay. I can't just stand around there, its starting to really frustrate me. What if my purse had been stolen?! Some help the police would have been. So I give the witness my card and say that if the police want to talk to me, they can call me at that number.
I walk back to my office and talk to my boss about what had happened. She tells me to relax, and gives me a high five for getting those documents turned in even though I had been attacked a few minutes before. My co-worker tells me that someone from the police department had called and asked if anything from my purse had been taken. She said to call them back if it had, and if not, I didn't need to return the call. "That's not fair!" my co-worker exclaims, "They don't care you were attacked because you WON?!" That's right, I won! I won a fight against a meth head for my life (aka purse).
So be careful out there! Just because you're home doesn't mean bad things can't happen to you. I found out what I was made of; apparently, I cling tightly to what is mine. Some may call that fighting back. Next time though, I'll be prepared and kick the asshole right between the legs. You will NOT take advantage of ME, and if you try, you will be surprised! I fight back.
Often we cut it so close that she has to walk whatever needs to be turned in down to the court, leaving our office at 3:30 when the court closes at 4:00. Like I said, nothing is EVER late. We know how to work this. So one day, she needs to get something turned into the court, but she has a consultation at 3:00 and will not be able to run it down there herself. So I am put up to the task of delivering it by 4:00. This will be my first time turning anything in on her behalf but I know where the court is, only a 15 minute walk away. Easy.
So I am walking along one of the busiest streets in Portland, 5th Avenue, at 3:45 in the afternoon, and am one block from the court when I feel a slight pull near my arm and suddenly I am being wrestled with, with what I quickly realize is someone who is trying to take my purse! I am in complete shock as I cling to my purse for dear life as this guy is trying to yank it from my arms. I can't understand what is going on, but there is no WAY someone is getting this from me! It's got my life in it! As I comprehend that I'm getting mugged, I cling to it even tighter. This is MINE. I feel myself starting to fall slowly backwards as I try to get away from this asshole but am kept from falling completely over because the mugger still is trying hard to get my purse from me. I suddenly vaguely realize that this guy could have a weapon. I finally find my voice and yell, "LEAVE ME ALONE!" And it dawns on our onlookers that I am being attacked. Finally some guy comes to my rescue and pulls him off of me and I fall completely to the ground. I stare as the guy tries to fight him, but the mugger twists away and starts walking quickly down the street. I don't think I can move.
My rescuer and a bunch of other people come instantly towards me. One gives me their hand and helps me up. "Are you okay?!" Several people ask me. I analyze myself. I'm not hurt, I still have my purse (thank god!) but I'm shaking.
"I think so." I say, and I look around at the small group huddled around me. "This never happens!" I shriek. "How can that happen?"
"I know." The guy says. "I saw him on you but at first I just thought he was your friend, but then you started yelling and I knew something wasn't right." It seems that my onlookers were in just as much disbelief as I was that something like this would actually happen HERE. In PORTLAND. In the middle of the day on a busy street. I assume he's some white meth head who just had a bad court date and was far from thinking about what was smart or sane. "This never happens." I repeat again. I can't stop saying it.
Suddenly, I'm pissed. I've traveled through Mexico and all over Europe, and this never happened. I was prepared and ready for it, but it had never happened. And then I'm home, in MY city, completely unsuspecting and feeling safe, and THAT is when someone decides to try and mug me?! I feel totally betrayed. But then the more I think about it, the more I realize that if this could happen here, in my home, it could happen anywhere. So if bad things could happen anywhere, what's keeping me from traveling everywhere? I kind of feel freed from the preconception that home is safe and everywhere else is a potential hazard. Everywhere has it's risks, and as long as you are aware of it, you could go anywhere. Maybe it's my traumatized brain talking, but it makes sense. At least now I know that I will fight for what's important (my purse) instead of getting scared and letting go (of my purse).
Someone has called the police, and the guy that helped me and a woman who witnessed everything have decided to stay and talk to the police with me. I look down and miraculously, the documents my boss wanted me to turn in are still in one piece, clutched in my right hand. Suddenly, I panic. What time is it?! I look at the clock and it says 3:50. "I have to go!" I say. My two companions stare at me. "I have to turn this in before 4:00, in THAT building. My boss will kill me!" I point to a building a block away. I look at them, and they seem confused. "Stay right here, I'll be right back!" I say, and rush off down the road to the court.
I enter the building, still shaking, and go straight towards the elevators. A woman walking through the building looks at me, points, and says, "You're the girl that got attacked!" Yeah, you're right. Thanks woman for all your help out there! Glad to know that you watched the whole thing but did nothing. "Yeah," I say, give a little smile, and slam the elevator button again.
I end up getting the petition turned in a few minutes before 4:00, phew! I go back outside and see that the two people I left behind are still standing there, but still no police. I see a police car drive by, but they don't stop. I wait there for about 5 more minutes, but after 20 minutes of someone calling the police and still no show, I don't stay. I can't just stand around there, its starting to really frustrate me. What if my purse had been stolen?! Some help the police would have been. So I give the witness my card and say that if the police want to talk to me, they can call me at that number.
I walk back to my office and talk to my boss about what had happened. She tells me to relax, and gives me a high five for getting those documents turned in even though I had been attacked a few minutes before. My co-worker tells me that someone from the police department had called and asked if anything from my purse had been taken. She said to call them back if it had, and if not, I didn't need to return the call. "That's not fair!" my co-worker exclaims, "They don't care you were attacked because you WON?!" That's right, I won! I won a fight against a meth head for my life (aka purse).
So be careful out there! Just because you're home doesn't mean bad things can't happen to you. I found out what I was made of; apparently, I cling tightly to what is mine. Some may call that fighting back. Next time though, I'll be prepared and kick the asshole right between the legs. You will NOT take advantage of ME, and if you try, you will be surprised! I fight back.
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
What's your Animal Totem?
For a while now I've been hearing about animal totems. These are animals that have appeared to someone either through a meditation or some sort of "mystical" experience and are significant enough to claim the title of that person's totem. I think of these as the daemons in The Golden Compass or patronuses in Harry Potter. Additionally, each totem has a special meaning that says something about the person to whom they belong. So over the course of the last few years, one by one, my family members and even a few friends began talking about their animal totems. Cassy's is a horse. Mark's is an orca whale. Claire's is a doe. Sam's is a raven. My mom's is a sparrow (and a lady bug, and a wolf... why does she get three?). They all found them in one way or another, and recently I decided that it was high time that I figured out which little creature was following me around and shedding it's little light on my life.
Now, Claire may be laughing right now, because as some people know I'm not the biggest animal person. Don't get me wrong! Animals are cute. They are magnificent to look at. Even petting them sometimes can be fun. But I'm not someone who will go seek out opportunities to hang out with fauna. I am allergic to cats and I don't like being jumped on or licked by dogs. If they kept their tongues and fur to themselves, I think I would find them much more enjoyable. Also, you never know what an animal is thinking. Is that dog backing up in fear or in preparation to jump on me? Is that horse going to stand there idly or use it's leg as a pool stick and slam me like it's trying to sink the 8 ball when I'm not looking? Is that cat going to lick me or curse me with it's huge glowing eyes?
But in spite of this initial reaction to animals, I do think they are nice overall and would like to know which one is my animal guide. So one day while I'm at my moms house, I mention this fact and my step-dad Mark decides to lead us all in a meditation. We nestle down on the couches, get as comfortable as possible, close our eyes, and Mark begins.
"Take some deep breaths. Relax. Get as comfortable as possible." There's some shifting on the other end of the couch as my sister snuggles into her blankets. "Now. You are relaxed, you are floating. Your spirit soars away from your body and you look down on yourself from above, on the couch with your loved ones." I try to imagine how I look from above, and realize my mouth is hanging open. I shut it and switch positions, and try to get comfortable again. "You float even further away and soar into the sky. You are light, free. You come to a place that you've been before, a place that is your perfect place in nature, somewhere that you are the most happy and relaxed you've been in a long time. It is beautiful, and it is inviting you to come rest. Imagine this place." He stays silent for awhile, and I try to think of my perfect place. A tropical ocean, the white sand, the palm trees, the waves gently lapping against the shore, a slight breeze. "This place is somewhere that all animals could come." I add a stream flowing into the ocean, so that animals from the freshwater would be welcome here. I vaguely realize in the back of my mind that this place is tropical and a bit limited in the kinds of animals my imagination could have show up, but I try to release that boundary and allow all kinds of animals to be happy in this place.
"Now, there is movement among the trees. You see animals begin to show themselves, and slowly but surely, every kind of animal appears in this place. There are birds of every kind flying above you, land animals around you, sea creatures and river creatures in the stream. They are calm, they are waiting for you." Now I begin to feel slightly panicked. There are so many animals! Bears next to giraffes and elephants, horses and kangaroos, deer and gorillas and sloths. There are sparrows and toucans and hummingbirds and every other kind of bird up in the sky. Dolphins and whales and fish in the sea, otters and more fish in the river, turtles and seals and moose. They are all staring at me! They are not threatening but it is a bit overwhelming to have the entire animal kingdom crowded into my relaxing space, waiting for me. Also, I'm sure I'm forgetting other animals! What about the geckos and snakes and dogs and cats and lions and rats? As my beach gets more crowded with animals, and some of the land ones have to stand in the water, and the birds are running into each other in the sky, Mark says, "Now one of them has made eye contact with you." Which? Which one? They are all looking at me. Is it the moose? The wolf? The panther. No. Not the panther. Is it the otter? The panther. NO. I don't even like cats. I push the panther out of the way. Who could it be?
"The animal you've made eye contact is beginning to approach you now." I am feeling stressed. I haven't found my animal yet and Mark is moving forward with the meditation. I didn't get enough time! I try to keep looking through the crowd to see which animal is approaching me. But all I can see is panther eyes. GET OUT OF MY FACE PANTHER. You are not the one! I don't like cats, remember?! I stubbornly move around it and keep looking but Mark as moved on. "You greet the animal as a friend, you know each other. Then you say goodbye and begin to float away, back to the sky, back to your home, back to this couch." I didn't get to pick one! Panther. Panther. Panther. Panther. STOP SAYING THAT!
I open my eyes, frustrated. I didn't find an animal. I know this because I don't like cats. I just thought of the panther because it was the most exotic animal I could think of. That's not really it. For some reason, I feel like crying. This is stupid, it's not real anyways, why am I upset about this?! I didn't find an animal, so what? Maybe a meditation isn't for me. Maybe it will come to me in another way. I will just have to keep my eyes open for a significant animal in my life. Crap.
I go home feeling a little put out, but soon I forget about this. A few days later, my mom sends me a link to an animal totem website. "Read this! I think you got it right." She says. Pah. Sure. But despite my hesitations, I begin to read about the panther.
Of all the panthers, the black panther has the greatest mysticism associated with it. It is a symbol of the mother, the dark moon and the power of the night. The black panther encourages us to understand the shadow powers available to us all, to acknowledge these powers and to eliminate our fears of the darkness.
Now, Claire may be laughing right now, because as some people know I'm not the biggest animal person. Don't get me wrong! Animals are cute. They are magnificent to look at. Even petting them sometimes can be fun. But I'm not someone who will go seek out opportunities to hang out with fauna. I am allergic to cats and I don't like being jumped on or licked by dogs. If they kept their tongues and fur to themselves, I think I would find them much more enjoyable. Also, you never know what an animal is thinking. Is that dog backing up in fear or in preparation to jump on me? Is that horse going to stand there idly or use it's leg as a pool stick and slam me like it's trying to sink the 8 ball when I'm not looking? Is that cat going to lick me or curse me with it's huge glowing eyes?
But in spite of this initial reaction to animals, I do think they are nice overall and would like to know which one is my animal guide. So one day while I'm at my moms house, I mention this fact and my step-dad Mark decides to lead us all in a meditation. We nestle down on the couches, get as comfortable as possible, close our eyes, and Mark begins.
"Take some deep breaths. Relax. Get as comfortable as possible." There's some shifting on the other end of the couch as my sister snuggles into her blankets. "Now. You are relaxed, you are floating. Your spirit soars away from your body and you look down on yourself from above, on the couch with your loved ones." I try to imagine how I look from above, and realize my mouth is hanging open. I shut it and switch positions, and try to get comfortable again. "You float even further away and soar into the sky. You are light, free. You come to a place that you've been before, a place that is your perfect place in nature, somewhere that you are the most happy and relaxed you've been in a long time. It is beautiful, and it is inviting you to come rest. Imagine this place." He stays silent for awhile, and I try to think of my perfect place. A tropical ocean, the white sand, the palm trees, the waves gently lapping against the shore, a slight breeze. "This place is somewhere that all animals could come." I add a stream flowing into the ocean, so that animals from the freshwater would be welcome here. I vaguely realize in the back of my mind that this place is tropical and a bit limited in the kinds of animals my imagination could have show up, but I try to release that boundary and allow all kinds of animals to be happy in this place.
"Now, there is movement among the trees. You see animals begin to show themselves, and slowly but surely, every kind of animal appears in this place. There are birds of every kind flying above you, land animals around you, sea creatures and river creatures in the stream. They are calm, they are waiting for you." Now I begin to feel slightly panicked. There are so many animals! Bears next to giraffes and elephants, horses and kangaroos, deer and gorillas and sloths. There are sparrows and toucans and hummingbirds and every other kind of bird up in the sky. Dolphins and whales and fish in the sea, otters and more fish in the river, turtles and seals and moose. They are all staring at me! They are not threatening but it is a bit overwhelming to have the entire animal kingdom crowded into my relaxing space, waiting for me. Also, I'm sure I'm forgetting other animals! What about the geckos and snakes and dogs and cats and lions and rats? As my beach gets more crowded with animals, and some of the land ones have to stand in the water, and the birds are running into each other in the sky, Mark says, "Now one of them has made eye contact with you." Which? Which one? They are all looking at me. Is it the moose? The wolf? The panther. No. Not the panther. Is it the otter? The panther. NO. I don't even like cats. I push the panther out of the way. Who could it be?
"The animal you've made eye contact is beginning to approach you now." I am feeling stressed. I haven't found my animal yet and Mark is moving forward with the meditation. I didn't get enough time! I try to keep looking through the crowd to see which animal is approaching me. But all I can see is panther eyes. GET OUT OF MY FACE PANTHER. You are not the one! I don't like cats, remember?! I stubbornly move around it and keep looking but Mark as moved on. "You greet the animal as a friend, you know each other. Then you say goodbye and begin to float away, back to the sky, back to your home, back to this couch." I didn't get to pick one! Panther. Panther. Panther. Panther. STOP SAYING THAT!
I open my eyes, frustrated. I didn't find an animal. I know this because I don't like cats. I just thought of the panther because it was the most exotic animal I could think of. That's not really it. For some reason, I feel like crying. This is stupid, it's not real anyways, why am I upset about this?! I didn't find an animal, so what? Maybe a meditation isn't for me. Maybe it will come to me in another way. I will just have to keep my eyes open for a significant animal in my life. Crap.
I go home feeling a little put out, but soon I forget about this. A few days later, my mom sends me a link to an animal totem website. "Read this! I think you got it right." She says. Pah. Sure. But despite my hesitations, I begin to read about the panther.
The panther animal totem is a very powerful and protective presence. If you have this creature as your totem, you are blessed to have such a fierce and aggressive guardian with you.
The panther is a symbol of courage, valor and power. The panther has also sometimes associated with the sun, and solar vibrancy in some cultures (South American, and Central American).
Individuals with panther totems are usually people who come into this world with a spiritual knowing - a deeper understanding of spiritual things. These people often are very intuitive, psychic, and many are artistically inclined.
Of all the panthers, the black panther has the greatest mysticism associated with it. It is a symbol of the mother, the dark moon and the power of the night. The black panther encourages us to understand the shadow powers available to us all, to acknowledge these powers and to eliminate our fears of the darkness.
When the black panther totem appears in your life, it is also a symbol of releasing your passions, and starting a new phase of your life. A phase in which you are discovering your desires, and living your dreams.
When the panther animal totem comes to us (whether it be in the form of images or real sightings) we must begin paying attention to the strength of our inner being - our internal fortitude, and the condition of our spiritual strength and valor. Panthers also beckon us to consider our darker side - analyze this side of ourselves and determine its motivation.
Okay mom, I don't know if I got it "right" necessarily... really these descriptions could be bent to anyone's life if they tried hard enough. But I like what it says. I like thinking that I have a fierce guardian with me, and that it symbolizes courage. Don't we all need a little more courage in our lives? I don't think my panther was black though, so we can get rid of that part of the description. So, I accept the fact that, even though I didn't want it, maybe this panther really is my totem. It was pretty forceful in my meditation. Even when I tried to ignore it, it just kept coming back... typical cat behavior. So I suppose, if I have to have a cat as my totem, at least it's a super awesome and mystical panther that lives in the jungle rather than a lazy, fat house cat that shits in a sand box and plays with lasers.
Okay mom, I don't know if I got it "right" necessarily... really these descriptions could be bent to anyone's life if they tried hard enough. But I like what it says. I like thinking that I have a fierce guardian with me, and that it symbolizes courage. Don't we all need a little more courage in our lives? I don't think my panther was black though, so we can get rid of that part of the description. So, I accept the fact that, even though I didn't want it, maybe this panther really is my totem. It was pretty forceful in my meditation. Even when I tried to ignore it, it just kept coming back... typical cat behavior. So I suppose, if I have to have a cat as my totem, at least it's a super awesome and mystical panther that lives in the jungle rather than a lazy, fat house cat that shits in a sand box and plays with lasers.
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Cute Dress! Now Strip!
“You can’t
take girls to strip clubs.” Kyle mutters as we watch the naked woman lay across
the bar in front of us, looking sexily at the boys while Claire and I dig
gleefully for more ones. I don’t know what Peter is doing because, as promised,
Claire and I aren’t allowed to look at their faces while we’re in the club.
How had we ended up at my first strip club? Earlier that night we took Peter out to dinner for his birthday at a burger place called Dicks Kitchen in NW Portland. After singing him “Happy Birthday” in all the languages we actually knew and then in the ones we could slightly imitate and devouring some delicious burgers, we decided that half-off martinis at Bartini should be our next stop.
How had we ended up at my first strip club? Earlier that night we took Peter out to dinner for his birthday at a burger place called Dicks Kitchen in NW Portland. After singing him “Happy Birthday” in all the languages we actually knew and then in the ones we could slightly imitate and devouring some delicious burgers, we decided that half-off martinis at Bartini should be our next stop.
The waitress brought out our four martinis and automatically started to hand the vodka, gin and vermouth with a twist drinks to the boys. Claire and I said together, “Those are ours” while reaching out to take our drinks, and the waitress looked surprised as she passed the pink girly drinks to Kyle and Peter. “I would have thought it would be the other way around!” Not with this group! Peter’s eyes rolled into the back of his head in what I believe was pure ecstasy as he took a sip of his fruity little drink. He brought his fist to his side in victory, sighed, and said unnecessarily, “That is AMAZING.”
I don’t know at what point we decided to go to a strip club… it might have been when I said, “Let’s go to a strip club!” after two martinis. Peter’s eyes widened and a smile crept unchecked across his face, while Kyle smirked and tried to look like this would be a nice favor he was doing for Peter’s birthday. Claire and I high-fived and then we loaded into the car and headed over to “The Landing Strip.”
“Why shouldn’t girls come to strip clubs?” I ask Kyle, putting a one dollar bill on the counter in front of me, wishing the girl had kept on her G-string so I could stick it in there like they do in the movies. The place is deserted on a Monday night. We are the only people sitting in front of the stripper pole, along with one older, creepy looking guy, while several more people are sitting back at the bar. The place is dark and divey, with red curtains draped from the ceiling and neon lights glow behind the “stage” like glow worms clinging to the wall.
“First of all, because of what just happened.” Kyle begins. What had just happened? Claire and I had spent a good five minutes talking to the stripper about her hike to Dog Mountain she had taken yesterday, all while her breasts were roaming free and her vagina was peeping through the cloth around her waist, which she had now taken off. Oregon is one of the few places that strippers can be completely naked while on stage. For a whole song, she had simply been sitting there half naked, the boys forgotten as we carried on a nice long conversation. Also, it might not have helped that Claire and I had continually complimented the stripper before this one on her dress. “Where did you get that? It’s so cute!” “Thanks!” she had said, then took it off and shook her ass at us. Claire and I kept trying not to giggle.
“Secondly, because when you bring girls, the strippers think that you’re together and don’t do as many things as they would if it were just guys.” Kyle continued. I wasn’t so sure about that, Peter had already motorboated two strippers and they had reached over the bar to put their heads in his lap and nuzzle his neck… but that was probably because we had shouted at the girls that it was his birthday. Kyle is feeling neglected. Poor Kyle.
“How much do you think a lap dance is?” I ask Claire, as the girl in front of us swings around on the pole. We buy Peter a birthday lap dance for $20 and he is taken away as we leave the stripping area and go sit at a booth. Peter comes back about 15 minutes later, throws himself into the seat and leans his head back, his eyes drooping a little bit from the alcohol. “Thanks guys,” he sighs in contentment.
A bit later the girl who gave him the lap dance comes up to us and says, “My manager is making me strip again, he says I have to, I hope you guys come watch.” We look around and realize we are pretty much the only ones left in the bar. Feeling bad for the stripper with no audience, we throw some dollar bills at Peter and tell him to go watch her. I feel like a parent who is trying to get rid of their kid at the pizza place, so they give them a bunch of quarters to go play at the arcade so the adults can chat in peace. Peter eventually comes back and we decide to call it a night... most of us have to work early in the morning. But I would say without a doubt, strip clubs are slimy, dark, make you want to take a shower immediately after leaving, and highly entertaining. Though I think the one time may be enough for me. Now, how do I find out where that stripper bought that cute dress...?
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