Wednesday, April 28, 2010


A trip to a public restroom made me think: why would you ever want to turn air in the direction of your face on an automatic hand dryer? Is this supposed to be a bonus feature? I had never actually pushed it down and had the hot, gross, bathroom air steam into my face until last night when curiosity got the best of me. It was not fun. I will never do it again. Why do these exist? Frankly, I would rather just further harm the environment and have paper towel. I judge establishments on whether they have "towel dry" or "automatic dry" facilities.

Monday, April 19, 2010


I made a list of items that had been blacklisted in 2008 until further notice. It needs to be updated because some of the items have been un-blacklisted. Here is the original list from September 2008:

Pier 49 Pizza
Spaghetti Factory
Kiwanis Park

Page, Arizona
People who wear bright orange shirts
Thai Kitchen
Ute Fans
6th East in Provo
Driving to Disneyland

8th North Orem Sonic
B4 (one of my 7th grade classes)

The following items are hereby removed from the blacklist:
Kiwanis Park
8th North Orem Sonic
B4 (replacement class for this year would be B3 - again 7th graders)

Tuesday, April 13, 2010


I hate eating food in public. I am precise on the foods that I like and when I have to eat meals in front of others I hate it. Really, truly, really, honestly, really hate it. Ordering at a restaurant presents difficulties because I can't usually order straight from the menu. I alter the dish in some obscure way that the waiter looks at me like I am crazy. Making new friends is a pain because I have to introduce them to my eating habits. And when I am in a social situation among acquaintances, strangers, friends, family, or dates it makes me sick to my stomach. I literally want to die because I know someone is going to comment on my taste and say:
  • why aren't you eating
  • what do you eat
  • why are you taking the cheese off
  • you don't like that
  • how do you survive
  • you are so picky
This kind of stuff bothers me. I wish people could just understand that I am normal. I like the things I like. The things I don't like shouldn't bother you. At least I have opinions in life and stick to them - unless in the dreaded situation of being a guest somewhere and I'm forced to eat whatever the people have prepared or I will look like a douche. Why does it make me seem like a brat just because I am not interested in eating pulled BBQ pork or whatever gross thing you have concocted? WHY? Three times in my adult life I have had absolutely no choice in social eating situations. 1.I was with a boyfriend's family and I was scared. 2. I was with a family friend that always teased me growing up and I was scared. 3. Was last week with my parentals in some members' house and I was scared. I seriously doubt any of you really get the extreme anxiety I go through just to enjoy the food I like.

Sunday, April 11, 2010


I just bought these shoes. I am happy about the price. I am happy about how adorable they are. I am happy about how comfortable (relatively speaking) they are. What I am not happy about is that I should have purchased them when my mom was buying in Oregon!! What was I thinking?? Mom and I went to DSW in Oregon which translation: no sales tax. And mom was willing to buy them for me!!!!! Major mistake. I got home and had to order them online with $4 tax and $8 shipping. It will be okay because these shoes weren't that expensive at $49.o0 off the original price! All that matters is that I bought cute shoes that reduce cankle appearance and I love them.

Thursday, April 8, 2010


Ashley today

Ashley at 17

When you are 37 years old and someone mistakes you to be 26: that's a compliment.

When you are 24 years old and everyone mistakes you to be 17: that's NOT a compliment.

At least 2-3 times a week someone comments about my age or asks me how old I am. They believe I am in high school. They believe I am in junior high (yes, many times that one has happened). They believe I am too young to use a credit card. They believe I need parental signatures when signing up for things. This isn't cute. It just isn't. And I think the worst part of all of it is when I correct people on their poor assumptions they just say, "Well take that as a compliment. When you are 30 you're gonna love it." Well I am not 30. Believing that I am a teenager at this point in my life is not a good feeling. So don't tell me that your judgment of my age is anything but a major put down.

Here are just a few of the thousand+ examples I have of mistaken age identity:
  • When I was a sophomore in college I went to visit my dad at his office in Salt Lake. While taking the elevator up to see him one of his partners in the law firm asked me what year I was in school. I told him I was a sophomore. His reply was, "Go Darts!" Ehh, no. That would be Go Cougars! Actual age: 20. Presumed age: 15.

  • During the last semester of my senior year at BYU I interviewed for teaching positions. Some crazy teacher in one of the junior high schools that I went to stopped me in the hallway and asked me what I was doing out in the middle of class. Actual Age: 22 Presumed age: 14.

  • One morning Allison, Cameo, and I went to ask a teacher down the hall a question about his document camera. He wasn't in the room so we just took his out and discussed the pro's and con's about buying them for our department. Well the student teacher walked up and assumed we were all students and told us to, "put that down and do not play with the teacher's equipment." Actual Age: 23. Presumed age: 15.

  • Cameo and I took a group of students to Washington, D.C. The best part of the journey there was the fact that we had exit row seats on the plane. Okay, so that was only fantastic until the flight attendant came to inform us that we couldn't sit there because you had to be over 15 to sit in an exit row. Ashley's actual age: 23, Cameo's actual age: 25. Presumed age: 14.

  • Then yesterday my dad took me to a museum in The Dalles, Oregon. We walked up to the counter and he told the woman at the counter we wanted to see the museum. She said, "okay, just one ticket then?" What? Didn't she see there were two of us? She told us all this week kids under 18 get into the museum for free. I had to do the awkward age correction and inform her that was not case for me. Actual age: 24. Presumed age: 17.