aubade, but not really

new day, i love you.

you pull me out of bed, beckoning me closer to the sun, closer to life just-bubbling up from the pot. you tell me to wash the dreams from my eyes. you tell me to make things new.

there's always something mystical about the first moments of the day--what might happen when i walk out the door? who will i meet? what will i see?

new day, you let me catch your breaths and ride them. you fill me with air.

things are right in the morning.

things are all right in the morning.

new day, let me hold you just a little longer. you age far too quickly--your eyes sag, your limbs grow thin. you give way to the forceful sunlight too easily. you become strong and violent. let me have you longer and longer. don't go, don't go.


---

so, that was a weird not-poem but kinda poem. love song to the morning, if you will. will you?

a good day

it's  monday. monday is inherently glum, it seems.

this monday was absolutely no different. BUT--i don't like feeling glum. in fact, it goes against my personality. i enjoy being happy--how else would i be the wise-cracking, always-humming-a-tune ashley you've all come to know and love? well, maybe some of you don't know me...or love me...but you get it.

things always seem worse in the morning, don't they? you've just broken free of the protective womb of sleep, you've just rubbed the sand from your eyes, the cold punch of air outside your bedsheets makes you crazy. you've been there. or, maybe it's the middle of the day, and your job is getting just a bit to frisky. or maybe the humidity ruined your hair. or maybe your mascara's running, or maybe your nail chipped. whatever it is, sometimes, it seems like the world is against us.

but, it's not.

i always just try to realize that it's not the end of the world if a little thing happens to me. i swallow that comfortable glob of self-pity that we've all felt, and i try to think about the good things in my life. i reach out to my family, i pray, i sing songs, i smile. whatever i have to do to make things a little better in that moment, whatever i have to do to slap myself out of gloom, i do it.

today is an especially awesome day--as i'm going to get to hang out with some awesome friends and hopefully plan an excellent sisters adventure this weekend. remembering that things are okay is the hard part, sometimes, but you have to do it. if not, that glob of gloom will cover your whole body, rub off on others, and eventually paint your life gray.

and, although gray is one of my favorite colors, its metaphorical implications are kinda bad.

FURTHERMORE, that gloom makes my writing suffer. that simply cannot happen. my writing is very important to me. maybe y'all will get to see it soon.

chin up, take a deep breath, smile a little.

until next time,

a.

a remedy

more like remedies. for what ails you. whatever it is that's ailing you.

for withdrawals (from a friend or loved one. not drugs, you crazies)...

a cup of hot tea (for warmth, because you miss their warm embrace, their warm smile, their warm fuzzies). the steam from tea clears my mind. the thirst-inducing qualities of tea make me forget about missing someone and think about water.

a shared song. that is, a song you both like and listen to together. hearing this song will stir up good memories and make you smile. you'll move and groove, and you'll feel like you're with the person you're missing.






a humdrum night (where your four walls start closing in on you)...

virgil tibbs. okay, so, maybe not specifically virgil tibbs (or sidney poitier, as he's called in real life), but pop in a good movie or watch something you've always wanted to watch but haven't had the time to watch. some of my favorites are in the heat of the night; hairspray (both versions); a goofy movie; an american in paris; singin' in the rain, mildred pierce; corrina, corrina; forrest gump; a patch of blue...to name a few.

a nummy yummy dinner (and dessert). i find that a little good food (and the time spent making it) can take my mind off most anything. i'm enjoying the moment, i'm cooking up some goodies, i'm trying not to burn my house down, and when it's all done, i'm full and tired and ready for bed. problems solved.


stress (i'm a scholar in this particular ailment)...

there's really only one remedy to this--save talking to my mama.

have some good, old fashioned fun.

take a walk, play tag, blow bubbles, tell some jokes, sing a song, bake cookies, read a book, whatever. just have some fun. take pleasure in one activity and realize that life's still good, no matter what's stressing you out.

the good thing about bad times is that they usually end.

until next time,

a.

assembly

that is, assembly of scenes from the day.

my life is not, by any means, dramatic or wildly interesting, but i find pleasure in the mundane (for those grammar fiends out there: is there a noun form of mundane? i've wondered. haven't looked it up). here goes...

1- the elevator. we all encounter these everyday. but, i've found that elevators are some of the most interesting places in the world. there, you'll encounter frightful folks, hurried folks, and people just floating along. i used to be a little fearful of these things, myself. but, since i've been at college, i realize that these are some of the best places to observe people and get material for my writing. sounds creepy, but if you're a writer, you know what i'm talking about.

2- the street. mundane, yes. but as i embarked on a rather long (and rather hot) trek from one place to another yesterday, something about the hum of the street made me smile. the cars were the same (angry, steaming, heaps of metal scooting along), the street was the same, but i was happier just being around them. this, friends, is what being indoors all day does to a person. you start liking stinky, grumbly hunks of metal and glass.



3- un arbol. only because it's rude to take pictures of people as you walk down the street. it's a pretty tree, but the people in front of me were way more interesting. alas. decorum wins again.

 4- homemade french manicure. couldn't sleep. realized my nails were looking rough. painted them in a french manicure style. if you want to do this at home, all you really need is some white fingernail polish (with an art brush--these come in sets, so you don't have to buy the single ones that cost like five bucks), french manicure topcoat, clear coat, and patience. i painted my toenails, too, but i figured since i'm not a fan of airing out my ashy skin, i'd spare you that photo. :)

5- an army of nail polishes. over the years, i've collected quite a few nail polishes. this photo does not do them justice. it does, however, show how horribly i have [not] organized them. what can i say? i like pretty paints.

there you have it, friends. my life, mundane as it may be, laid out for you. i watch people. i take walks. i paint nails.

until next time (and because i want to stop writing to listen to louis armstrong sing "la vie en rose"),

a.

anxious

that, folks, is what i am.

why? because i'm nearing an important birthday? because i'm nearing an important assignment's completion? because we're having meatloaf for dinner?

nope. although meatloaf's pretty special...

i'm anxious because this weekend, i'm going to encounter the great blue beyond up close and personal.

i'm going to see the last space shuttle launch.

for years, space was a cool thing to me. this, perhaps, was because children love all things associated with astronauts, shiny suits, and little green men. aliens, to me, were nothing more than basketball-playing mon-stars or strange brown wrinkly things. i was not afraid.

then, when i got all old and stuff, things got creepier. big, black, endless space full of danger and the unknown was all i thought of when i thought of nasa, and that ben afleck movie didn't help things much (and did you see those weird looking, disguised-as-humans aliens in men in black?). space was just empty space, ready to make you implode with one wrong breath.

but, i think i've gotten better. i'm really excited to see what could be the most historical thing i'll ever witness (with my own eyes, standing right there in front of it, i mean). seeing a metal bus full of humans blast off into the sky might be thought provoking, awe-inspiring, tear-jerking, what have youl. i'll try my best to post interesting photos and all that for your viewing pleasure. maybe a few poems will fall out of the sky when the shuttle goes up.

here's to a long-awaited escape from reality and a good shuttle launch!

until next time,

a.

UPDATE: won't have photos because i won't be there. staycation it is!

america

you knew it was coming.

happy (american) independence day, folks. wave flags, burn bones on the grill, shoot fire from your hands, watch the stars explode in brilliant colors.

oh say, can you see...

 you know the rest.

ambition

my dad has a beautiful garden at our house. this weekend, as my sisters and i prepared to go shopping, dad called us over to look at this:

a bird's nest. the mama bird was up on a power line, watching our every move as we climbed into the bushes to see the nest. all i could think about was beginnings, renewal, and ambition.

ambition?

yes, ambition. all these precious little baby birds aspire to do is live. that's their biggest goal, and i hope they reach it. i have a lot of goals, too. i'm about to graduate college, so, in a sense, i'm incubating in my little childlike egg, waiting to explode into complete adulthood. i'm scared. i'm perched on a wavering branch, too. i've built my nest over so many years of school, work, and being responsible. the film of my egg is starting to weaken. the cold outside air feels rough in my tender nose. things, friends, are getting real.

but, this nest also made me feel that inescapable rush of excitement that comes with hatching. once i'm out, i can eat, breathe, experience on my own. i can make other nests, visit other trees. and, here comes the unavoidable cliche--i can fly.

okay, maybe that cliche was avoidable, but i didn't want to avoid it. even poets have to stumble through cliches. they're a part of life, people. get over it.

small, beautiful moments like seeing a bird's nest really make a girl appreciate things. standing above the fragile little nest, carefully placing my phone between the leaves to take the photo, watching for mama bird, i felt a strange power. not a crazy, 'i'm-gonna-kill-these-precious-eggs' power, but the power to appreciate life. this is the power people often ignore or neglect. i know i neglect it--i'm such a busy bee, i hardly have time to appreciate the softness of the couch at the end of the day. but, i'm learning to stop and let the breeze cool me, let the grass under my feet amaze me.

baby birds, i hope you grow up to build your own nests and raise other birds. i hope you love the cool, swift cushion of wind under your wings. i hope you step out of those shells and open your little eyes to the bright big world.

until next time,

a.

a masala to remember

last night, i was hankering for something special. so, i decided to make chicken tikka masala and mango lassi. what is chicken tikka masala and mango lassi, you ask? chicken tikka masala is just sauteed chicken simmered in masala sauce (tomatoes and other goodies) served with rice. mango lassi is basically a mango milkshake (with more yogurt than milk). both are indian dishes that i love.

today, i'll share with you the "recipe" (quotation marks because i didn't make things from scratch).

*funfact: i took these photos with my cellphone, and in an effort to not have to retrieve my usb cord, i emailed them to what i thought was myself. when i didn't get an email immediately, i looked at my sent mail. i definitely sent these photos of masala to some random person. sorry, ma'am. i hope you don't think i'm a weirdo...*

anyway, on with the masala.

you'll need:
rice (of your choice--basmati rice usually "goes" with ctm, but it's tre expensive. so regular rice will do)
chicken (you want breast pieces or something you can cut into chunks)
bottled chicken tikka masala simmer sauce (mine comes from target, but you can probably find it elsewhere)
frozen sweet peas
naan (if you know how to make it, do so. if you don't, buy it from the store)
frozen (or fresh, or canned) mango
yogurt (you can use plain if you wish, but i find that french vanilla works really well)
milk
sugar
a little mango juice (to thin out the drink)

okay, so here's whatcha do (and i'm sorry for the lack of photos--i only thought of posting this recipe after i finished making dinner...):

1- cook your rice (you can do this first because it will probably take the longest. that is, unless you're making minute rice. in which case, it'll take no time at all). if you don't know how to cook rice, click here or scroll down to the bottom of this post for my mini-tutorial).

2- start a-workin' on your chicken. to make things infinitely easier, i use gloves and kitchen shears, so all i have to do is snip-snip-snip and throw the gloves away. you'll want to season your chicken with salt and pepper or seasoning salt and pepper (don't season like there's no tomorrow--you'll be simmering the chicken in sauce).

3- heat a pan for your chicken. you want a kind of large pan since you'll be stirring sauce in it and whatnot.

4- cook! that! chicken!!! you'll want to cook the chicken until it's golden brown. it needs to be white and juicy inside. a few tricks: you'll know when to turn the chicken over when the side that was pink has started to turn white around the sides. you'll know it's done when the meat is kinda firm to the touch.

5- throw the sauce in there. it's a little pasty (as in, it's like a paste), so you might need a spoon to scoop it out.

6- right after you put the sauce in, throw in the frozen peas.

7- stir a little, simmer on low for five-ish minutes, or until the sauce loosens up and the peas are warm.

8- heat up your naan (for you quick folks, put it in the toaster or on a stovetop skillet. for you old fashioned folks, put it in a hot oven for a few minutes).

9- serve and eat!!!

for the lassi:

1- clean out your blender pitcher (it's good practice to rinse that thing out before each use. you never know what could have accumulated in there).

2- throw in your mangoes (you can rinse them if you'd like. totally up to you). you can use a small bag or a half bag, or however much you think you'll need for the amount of people you're serving.

3- add some yogurt. now, this is where it gets weird. i'm kind of an eyeball cook sometimes (i mean, if i'm making a cake, i measure the heck out of my ingredients, but i've always loved making drinks in the blender and stuff, so i think i'm pretty good at the old eyeball method). you'll want to add almost as much yogurt as mango. just a liiiiitle less.

4- add some sugar. this is truly to taste. realize, however, that you cannot take sugar out, but you can always add it. so add just a little at a time if you're not a veteran eyeballer.

5- add a splash of milk (maybe like two tablespoons).

6- blend until smooth.

7- if it's too thick, add some mango juice (or a mango juice cocktail, like i did) and blend again.

it should look kinda like mango sorbet or icecream.

aaaand, here's what it looks like!

there you have it. chicken tikka masala and mango lassi. easy as pie.

yum, yum, yum! enjoy, my friends!

until next time,

a



----


okay, that rice tutorial:

1- put about two tablespoons of butter in the pan (less, of course, if you're just cooking rice for yourself)
2- add dry rice (the parboiled kind, not the kind you have to soak for like twelve years) and stir to coat the rice in butter. lightly toast it.
3- after your rice is slightly toasty, add two cups of water (or enough to drown the rice--that is, enough so you can't see the rice anymore. and yes, the water will be cloudy. you started out with butter, remember?).
4- cook for 20-30 minutes, or until rice is soft-ish and the water is gone. make sure to check on the rice and stir it to make sure it doesn't stick.
5- fluff that junk. add salt to taste.

a weird looking fry...and oh, this heat

i'm a tour guide at my university, so i'm pretty used to braving it in extreme conditions with a smile on my face. but i must say, this summer in the south is inexcusably hot. i mean, really, how is a girl supposed to look cute when she's dripping with sweat and panting for dear life?

answer (for those keeping score): she just keeps smiling and pretends that there are no basketball-sized sweat stains under her arms. and yes, her shirt is supposed to be a shade darker on her back.

but, if anything can be said for extreme weather conditions, it's that they allow one's mind to wander to very strange places. that is, after spending two hours outside, your brain is mush, and thinks things you'd never thought possible.

for example: after my tour, i ate some lunch (hastily, savagely, in a manner unfit for civilized eyes) and at the bottom of my fry box was this:

a fry with...well...junk in its trunk.

a normal, unheated mind would never think of this. but a melting, exhausted mind would automatically freak out at the sight of this fry and not want to eat it because of its humanoid qualities. i mean, at the end of the day, it's just a potato, but it seemed a) too big--i mean, did they just cut the potato in half and call it a fry?
b) reminiscent of someone's large posterior. so i didn't eat it. and i'm sharing it with you.


just goes to show you--too much heat can make your imagination run wild. stay cool and stay sane, folks!

until next time,

a

a box of chocolates

mama always said...

if you don't get the reference yet, you've clearly never heard of forrest gump. and if you've never heard forrest gump, well, by golly, you've stumbled upon the right blog!

i happen to have just finished watching forrest gump (starring tom hanks), and, as usual, i'm overwhelmed with hope and warm fuzzy feelings. but for those who are completely lost, here's a little explanation:

forrest gump is a story of a man (who may or may not be mentally challenged, but that's really not the point) who goes through life being a good person. he has a significant impact on everyone he meets, and although he has some trouble wrangling his wayward love and best friend, jenny, things turn up for old forrest after a while.

but this story isn't just about romantic love. it's about truly loving other people and wanting the absolute best for them no matter what. it's about being true to yourself, loving your family, and living your life to its absolute fullest. well, at least, that's what i think it's about.

every time i watch this movie, i get pretty emotional--it's a bit of a roller coaster. but at the end, i always feel so hopeful and ready to go out into the world and spread some love. it's a great feeling. while it's impossible to face life with the same simple wonder and trust forrest has, i think it's possible to open up and love as much as he does. and that's just what i want to do.

and yes, it can be tough to feel this gushy and loving when i roll over to face the bleating alarm clock before the sun comes up or when i walk blocks and blocks across campus in the blistering heat, but after i pull back the covers or step into the shade, things seem peaceful again, and i can smile just like forrest and say, 'hello, world, i love you.'

this is just one of those special films that will stay with me forever. unfortunately, the book isn't as wonderful and heart-warming (this will be the ONLY time in my life i'll ever side with a movie over a book, btw), so i'd definitely watch tom hanks instead of read the book (ugh, i cringe at even writing that. i'm so sorry, books).

if you learn nothing else from forrest, learn this:

life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get. and to take it a step further, chocolates always hold something sweet and unexpected inside, so don't shy away from them--you might just like what you find. and if you don't, well, you've still got the chocolate. :)

p.s. i feel just like doogie howser as i type this post. if only i had a little voice-over and a dinosaur computer...

amazing lunch

people who know me well know that i'm an amateur foodie. that is, i like good food and i watch the food network a lot.

i especially love eating exotic foods--that is, foods from other countries and cultures. i have an unreal obsession with chicken tikka masala and mango lassi from my favorite local indian restaurant, and i went through a phase during sophomore year where i couldn't go a week without a tub of hummus in the fridge. i gorged on ethiopian food during a trip to chicago, and i'm anxious to try some real-deal chinese food (the kind not found in a white paper box).

recently, i've been introduced to something called the 'chicken special' at a local mediterranean restaurant. i was only slightly intrigued when a coworker described it to me--i thought, what could be so amazing about some chicken, a salad, rice and hummus?

but then i tasted it.

this chicken, folks, is special.

needless to say, i devoured the entire carton when i first tried it. it's glorious! and if you want specifics on the name of the place, just comment and i'll send it to you privately somehow (attempts at internet safety here, people).

soooo....imagine my joy when coworkers announced that we'd have it for lunch today! i could hardly retrieve my debit card fast enough!!! and, for those who are visual learners, i'll post a photo of this gargantuan greek feast:

yes, there's really that much.

i think this might have almost topped chicken tikka masala...for now.

what are your favorite foods, friends?

until next time,

a

ashley

that's my name.

this is my blog.

i'm sort of new to this whole...sharing thing. especially sharing of the online sort. but, i'm a writer, and i'm a blog-reader, so i figured, why not start one of my own?

this will be a place for my thoughts, things i've found, things i've written, things i've seen. whatever, really. perhaps the first post should tell you a little about me. so, here it is:

i'm a poet. i've been writing for a loooong time--since i could hold a pencil, really. i wanted to be harriet the spy when i was little, and i watched the movie over and over and over to get her mannerisms just right. i only wrote in composition notebooks for a long time because of good ole harriet. now, i write poetry. and i still want to be a spy.

i'm a student. i'm a student of english at a local university. i want to get an m.f.a. in poetry. i want to get a ph.d. in something. i want to teach creative writing and literature, and i want to be a university prezzz.

i'm kinda ridiculous. i joke around alot. most people don't see this side of me--i'm very reserved, calm, mature, what have you by day. folks think i'm a stick in the mud. this is not true. at least, i don't think it is.

i'm a professional shopper. now, i don't have clients or anything, but i consider myself a very serious shopper--i'm good at it, and i like it. smart girls like clothes, too. don't be fooled by my bookish charm.

i guess that's all i'd want to know about anyone ever...

there's not much more to leave here, but i guess i'll leave a little poetry for you kids to chew on.

here's a line i thought of on the way home from class recently.

from a poem i'd like to call "the bush:"

you look like a blade
from africa.
warrior dressed
in plainclothes.

that's all i've come up with so far...sad, yes.

alright, kiddies.

until next time.

a