The MisAdventures of Ashley Robin

Interior Design 101

2010-06-30T01:01:00.000-05:00

So as I mention in my bio, I've been tinkering around renovating and rehabbing homes. Truth is though, no one will care if the walls are new, if the roof is new, if the plumbing is good or the electrical works..if the house has no real design or is designed poorly.

In my business, I come across a lot of people who think if they buy a bunch of stuff and throw it in a room, they've made a home. Tsk, tsk, tsk...what a shame. People see me doing what I do, and always ask for advice. However, I make my LIVING giving my advice and even going so far as to put the space together, so I can't assess your space for free. I'd love to, but...if I did, I'd be broke, and me being broke...is not cool on so many levels. So instead, I've decided to occasionally address random questions I get on a general basis. If you want me to look at your space and give you my opinion or even redesign your space, email me here and we can work something out.

Rule 1- A space should make a statement about its owner.
Often, I meet people who have mismatched furniture, some that is either a hand-me-down or old, some inexpensive and screams cheap and the more current items clash with the old. The only impression someone coming into it can leave with is that the owner doesn't care about what their place looks like, is too cheap to invest in some better quality furnishings, or just has bad taste. If that is the impression you wish to make, feel free. But, it won't help you if you're someone who likes to entertain. Believe me, you and your place are being teased.

Rule 2- Never expect to fully put a room together in a short amount of time.
When people tell me that they have a tight budget, and don't want to hire someone to decorate, I always ask them how quickly they expect to have a cohesive scheme in that area. As a designer, it's my job to work fully on creating a complete space from four raw walls. This can include painting, refinishing floors, laying down carpets, finding area rugs, etc...and all that is timely. The average person works full time, wants some aspect of a social life or time to relax and may even have some time commitments outside of that. The last thing they want to do is try to decorate. So, if you decide to tackle a room, don't expect to have it be exactly as you imagine in the span of a day or two. Some people are lucky, they can go to one store and just get everything and be satisfied, but in my opinion, it's best to take your time. You might get all the furniture from Store A, but Stores B-R might have the accessories that really bring it to life. It may take a while to get it complete, be patient. Otherwise, hire someone and they can have it done much quicker.

Rule 3- Windows need something at them other than paper shades.
Paper shades are for when a site is under construction, not for once you've moved in and living there. They tatter, they lose their adhesive ability to the wall and bottom line, they are ugly. Please, please, please...if you've been living at your place for over two months, BUY SOME CURTAINS! JC Penney and IKEA sell sizes for all range of windows very inexpensively. I see them all over the place and it just irritates me....beyond all reason.

More rules/guidelines to come in further blogs...
Ashley

Hard Times

2010-06-29T21:45:00.000-05:00

Hi,

I decided to change up the way my blog looks and restart it, simply because I'm restarting myself. Life is nothing but challenging and engaging, and I've decided that I need a new perspective to match the way I'm going to see things. All that black and dark...wasn't it.

I have been given some big hurdles in my life, moreso than the average twenty-something, and I've done my best to overcome them. Sometimes I've failed, most times I've won or learned how to deal, and the lessons I've learned along the way have helped form me. I've been cynical, naive, angry, frustrated and impractical. But despite it all, I've had big laughs and big tears and can say now that I'd not have wanted it any other way. Each time I get knocked down or kicked in the gut, I've taken in the pain and moved along, chugging to my destination. I've screamed at people I love, kicked holes in walls, stood in the rain until I could feel the water saturating my bones, and I've managed to come up stronger.

This new perspective is going to be shared on this blog, which I will be using as my outlet to whomever wants to read it. I start it out as a woman who has no responsibility to anyone to censor myself, just me and my mind.

With that, I present....me.

Ashley

Where have all the bloggers gone?

2010-04-28T02:07:00.000-05:00

Hey,

As you know I went on hiatus. I hadn't planned on it, but I wasn't really in the state of mind to write much of anything. I got a better grip on what I was dealing with and decided to return to my blog as my life is evolving quite nicely, and I wanted a way to record it while still asking aloud, "Is this normal?" Meanwhile, I look up and a lot of the bloggers I interact with...are gone.

Some may have changed their blog names, but others are just MIA completely. Did everyone abandon blogging for Twitter and Facebook? Too much online and social networking caused the blogs to overload completely....

Something to think about. Meanwhile, I'm here and I'm gonna write, to my heart's content.

-A.

Common Questions I'm Asked About Europe

2010-04-26T19:48:00.004-05:00

When I tell most people I've gone to Europe, there are usually a range of questions that come with that topic of conversation. So much so, I find that I know what questions people are going to ask...well before they even ask them. Even though my trip is a year old as of May 16th of 2010, I'm still regularly asked questions...and so I've decided to put them here, and answer them, in the effort to help others plan their own trips, not to just Europe, but anywhere they can imagine.

Did I feel safe? Was it scary to travel alone? Did I worry about getting lost? How did I keep my belongings safe?

Well, isn't it always a little weird to walk around in a city that you've never been to before, and do so alone? Doesn't matter if it's in another country or state. Crime happens. People get robbed, mugged, beat up, or worse everyday in areas where there are lots of people. But, if you worry about what will happen, you'll never do anything. If I had that attitude, I never would have gotten on that plane, went to the airport or even bought the ticket in the first place. The same rules apply as to when you're alone in any city, like not advertising or allowing people to think you have a lot of cash on you, don't walk down any dark alleys late at night, etc. Follow your gut. And don't let anybody outside the Sacre Coeur in Paris put a bracelet on your arm. Traveling alone wasn't as scary as it was sometimes a little awkward. But after you've managed one meal in a restaurant alone as well as a canal ride, the next ten or so are a breeze. I downloaded apps that featured city metro bus and train maps to my iPhone, and I found I used that more than a city map. I didn't worry about getting lost, for some reason, I had an innate sense of direction. I kept my belongings locked up in a locker at the hostel, and I was the only one who had a key. My mother had a key here in Chicago, and best believe, if I'd lost mine, she'd have been fedex'ing that key overnight.

What's the best ways you saved money on the trip? How did you get from each city (London to Rome, Rome to Paris and Paris back to London)?

The best ways I saved money was to pack effectively. I traveled on a small airline that went from region to region, but they were big on baggage fees. I was gone for three weeks, but I only packed a week and a half of clothes, knowing ahead of time that I'd have to do laundry. I also made sure that I kept a daily budget and stuck to it fairly religiously. I bought an Oystercard in London that I still have as an souvenir. It saved me a lot of money on the train. I also took advantage of the duty free (tax free) shops in the airports, buying whatever toiletries I needed there instead of in the cities, where the prices would be much more expensive. There are many airlines that fly to many different regions in Europe, RyanAir, AerLingus and EasyJet are three I can think of, offering fares as low as $20-$60 per trip. Realize though, each airline has STRICT rules, and if you don't follow them you will have major headaches. Make sure you know and understand them all before you even think about booking a ticket, which you need to do pretty much as soon as you know your itinerary.

What is the biggest culture shock you received overseas? What are things Americans who've never been overseas would be surprised to see or experience? Any stereotypes that are true or false?

In Rome, there is a lot of ease and slow pace. But the cab drivers are CRAZY. I thought New York cab drivers were bad...the ones in Rome put them to shame. Also, the poverty in certain places is a little off putting. However, the biggest culture shock I received was shopping for deodorant. It was EXTREMELY difficult to find some in smaller neighborhood stores. I luckily found a trial size in the bottom of my bag and that was able to last for the duration of my trip. As a result of the deodorant shortage, there was a lot of FUNKY encounters. Even now, I can close my eyes and that pungent, wet and onion-y smell comes wafting back into my nose. The stereotype that Parisian women are any more fashionable than American women is also not as prevalent as one would think. Plus, people are a lot more affectionate. You go to the bars and it's normal to see everyone in the bar making out with each other, whether they know each other or not. I saw it in London at the IceBar (a bar built solely of ice, and you wear these massive coats), in Paris (even on the streets, lol) and in Rome (everywhere also).

Were there any weirdness with the different kinds of food that they eat versus what is normal American fare, even if it might be Italian, French, etc?

The food itself is smaller portions. However, Europeans eat more often than we Americans do, so if you keep that in mind, you won't go hungry. As a result of the portion size being smaller, flavors are richer and more...luxurious. People aren't as worried about fat content as they are in the States. Going to a Starbucks and getting a low-fat macchiato might get you some weird looks. Also, it was hard as hell to find soy milk. So much that I skipped eating cereal and drinking coffee, etc during my trip. It wasn't worth the headache. Europeans have really cornered the farmer's market concept, and some of the best fruit I've ever been fortunate enough to taste was the fruit I bought in Rome outside the Coliseum. Some people may hesitate to try outdoor food sold like that, but it's well worth the risk. It's also easy to eat well and inexpensively while in Europe. Just be sure to try the croissants in Paris, the espresso in Rome and the hamburgers in London...and be sure to do plenty of walking! I did and ironically, I LOST weight.

So, you stayed in hotels or motels or hostels? What was that like? Are they like the ones in that horror movie?

In order to save money, I stayed in hostels, which are like dorms. Most rooms are shared, with bunk beds, and like hotels, each person has a key or keycard. The cheaper the room rate, the more roommates you'll have. The ones I stayed in were all recognized by Hostelling International, the biggest group behind hostelling travel in the world. Not all hostels get their stamp of approval, and each place has to not only maintain their facilities, but also their safety guidelines to meet their criteria, which is audited by them officially every year. They also will revoke a hostel's inclusion on their material if they get enough complaints from guests. The one I stayed in Paris was the nicest, the most modern, with a full restaurant and bar in the lobby. The floors were female, male and co-ed, and bathrooms were filled with stall showers. Everyone got a large bin to put their belongings and lock it, and it was fine. The London hostel had a bathroom right in the room, with laundry, a kitchen if you wanted to cook, as well as a bar in the lobby. The Rome one was the least modern, with no elevator (and I had to climb five flights to get to my room..imagine doing that twice drunk), but had the best bar and the hottest bartender. No psycho killers wanting to sell my body to an illegal hunting group. I had one stalker, who actually followed me from Rome to Paris and stayed in the same hostels as me, but he was a sweet stalker and left after he realized I wasn't interested.

These are just some of my questions I get. If you have any additional, hit me!

She's BAAAAACKKKKKKK!!!!!

2010-04-26T19:06:00.004-05:00

Hey,

So circumstances in my life have kept me from blogging for a while. I wasn't really in the right mind to write and then edit it, I honestly don't think I'd have been able to edit it, and anyone reading it would have wanted to find a nice white room with padded walls for me. Anyway, I made an executive decision to leave the blog alone, and to resume it when I was in a better emotional space.

Well, that time has now come. I'm back. Expect postings from me at least once a week, and feel free to leave me questions/comments and even inspiration for future posts. You'll see that during the hiatus, my life has changed and as a result, this blog will begin to reflect that. It's still my misadventures, still told in the same way...just more.

Enjoy.

Parisian Perfection

2009-08-31T23:37:00.007-05:00

Hey,

So the plane gets into Paris around 8pm, and because I landed in a smaller airport, we had to take a bus into the city. I was grateful that we did, because it allowed us the opportunity to see the French countryside. Unlike in Rome, where I felt history, in Paris I just felt. No matter that the city itself is gritty, unforgiving and much dirtier than I'd imagined, there is LOVE everywhere. I arrived at night, and spotted at least 8 couples making out as I forayed my way to the hostel. I would see couples kissing all throughout my journey in Paris. I will tell you this, there is something in the air in Paris. I don't really know what it is...whether it's a smell, a sensation or a feeling, but it's like aromatic euphoria. Every time I would get angry, stressed or sad, I'd breathe that air in, and it seemed to say, "Chill, you're in Paris." That's pretty much how I felt. Like I was in a dream, and couldn't wake up. But, after my first night, I really didn't want to.

Ironically, though I considered Paris to be dirtier, the hostel itself was MUCH more modernized than the one I left in Rome. It had internet, a bar, a sauna and decent showers. I was more than excited to see the showers that didn't soak your feet because the drain was too slow. I have to admit, I also had another reason to get excited about Paris, and that reason was waiting for me at my hostel. I was very glad to see the reason, my buddy Terry, live and in the flesh, and after being solo for a while and fighting off some loneliness, it was nice to have some company. Together, we saw the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame and the River Seine. I actually enjoyed just being lost in Paris, randomly walking down streets just to see where they led. Surprisingly enough, none of the alleged Parisian crime affected us.

After he left on the third day, which did make me sad, I decided to take advantage of some of the other sights of Paris that we didn't see together. So, I found a free walking tour of the neighborhood Montematre, where all the artisans reside, and the home of the famed Moulin Rouge theatre. I caught the Paris metro to the train stop, got out and walked around for a bit. While doing so, I stumbled upon the first and only Starbucks since London. I went inside, and it felt less like Starbucks and more like a Parisian cafe, which appealed to my tourist side, but the slightly homesick for America side was expecting to see the Americanized version of which I've become accustomed. Imagine my disappointment, as I was searching for something, anything, American to forge a temporary connection.

After I took a deep breath and got a dose of "Chill, you're in PARIS!", I quickly recovered, found my tour and discovered my favorite parts of Paris, Montmatre. Full of hills, monuments to artists, little squares of people singing and dancing to well performed music, it was the infusion of spirit that I needed. Walking around some parts of Montmatre is like accidentally stumbling into a quaint village, while other parts seem to exist as its own city, independent of Paris. There are plenty of affordable and not so affordable shops to get food, clothes and mementos. It is hilly, so good shoes are definitely required, but the views of Paris and the cityscape from some particular streets is absolutely breathtaking. I started to get sick for my mom, not because I missed America, but because I wanted her to see the things I saw...and I knew that she'd be one of the only people I know who would see them the same way I would. Plus, watching her climb up these hills would have been a hoot. Although I would have gotten smacked for making fun of her arthritis.

I completed a staring contest with the local scam artists, who gather in the square below the Sacre-Coeur. The scam is simple, and it scares many tourists, enough so that they give you a lecture about it on the walking tour. It works like this: they come up to you (and usually they are African men), pretending to know little to no English, and they tell you that they want to give you a friendship bracelet. (In some cases, they don't tell you.) Before you can reply with an "ok", they slip this string looking thing around whatever arm you have available. Then, as you try to walk away, you realize they are holding the end of it. The scam comes in when they tell you that they want a certain amount of euros to release you. Depending on how scared you are, how little you are, or how big they are, it can range from as little as 5 euros to as much as 50 euros. I spotted this con being pulled on many of the unassuming tourists, and after accidentally bumping into some of the guys pulling it, I realized the con was that their english was pretty perfect. However, the face I was making must have been incredibly scary, because I found that they never even thought of messing with me.

Later, I was convinced to go on yet another pub crawl, but unlike the one in Rome, this one sucked. The places they were stopping seemed to be very....low rent, and the drinks were weak. So, I made an executive decision to ditch the crawlers, and go walking around downtown Paris. Yeah, that might not have been the smartest decision, but I did it. And, I managed to stumble into a not so great neighborhood. I saw some guys who were pointing at me, and began to walk behind me. I kept the eyes that grew on the back of my head on them, and decided to cut back across the rue (street) to return to an busier one..and through an alleyway. Moving quickly, and losing sight of the guys following me, I felt relief. I stepped onto the corner, and in doing so, I found a tiny slice of Parisian heaven.

Understand that I know some French. I'm nowhere near fluent, like I wish to someday become, but I surprised myself with being able to go to the store, read signs to do my laundry, pay for Metrocards, order bread, find clothes and manage with basic conversation. I amazed myself at how much I really knew. With that in mind, my Parisian heaven, was a place where English...was out the window.

It was a tiny lounge in the basement of a coffee shop that sold genuine African food. Greeted by a beautiful cocoa-skinned woman in all African garb, she beckoned me inside. I walked in, not because of her, but because of the smells. There are no words in any language, English or French, to accurately describe the loveliness, divinity, mouth-watering, passionate, salivating awesomeness of that smell. A combination of rice, spice, seafood, chicken and fruit...it was heaven. The beautiful woman told me to call her Maman, which is part of the word "bonne maman" which means grandmother, even though she looked like she could be my sister. Without much of a discussion, she asked me if I was hungry, and I nodded. She asked if I liked lamb and I said no, and then she disappeared. Music was thumping, people behind me were dancing and gyrating, really just having a great time. I watched Maman, hard at work at a small stove off to the left and in front of me. I couldn't see what she was doing, but I sat patiently.

After being hit on by two guys, one of which I kept turning away from because of his rank breath, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to face a smiling Maman, who held a bowl in her hands. She extended it out to me. I peered inside, not knowing what to expect, but found the most beautiful looking pile of rice and peas that I'd ever seen. "Pour la vegeterianne" she says, smiling. (For the vegetarian, which she assumed I was). I dove into it....and it was FANTASTIC. A simple meal cooked well. Sauteed tomatoes, yellow rice, onion, garlic, and big beautiful peas. Sigh. I would find this place and go there twice before I left Paris, and the people tried to get me to teach them English in exchange for food. I explored, but never found nicer and warmer people than in that little lounge. Paris, I'll be back.

Roman Sentiments Part II

2009-08-26T18:50:00.011-05:00

Hey,

So first, I have to apologize in the delay between blogs. I've just been busy. But anyway...back to the Rome trip.

The idea of a pub crawl is something I'd never experienced before in life. It's a genius idea actually, if you think about it. In a pub crawl, you pay the operator (usually a local promotions company) a set amount of money, and you get to go from club to club over the span of several hours. Because you paid the fee to the promoters, you don't have to pay to get into any of the clubs, and usually you get a wristband that allows you some deep discounts on drinks at the various clubs. Well, this pub crawl I joined did all that, plus they gave us shots as we walked along the club route. I didn't know that they would be doing so, and had a couple of drinks before we left, So, by the time we reached the 1st stop of the evening, I was more than a little intoxicated. (Sorry, Mom). I also have to add that the pub crawl gave me a chance to actually walk the streets of Rome, which are amazingly beautiful at night.

Roman nightclubs make me feel like I've decided to climb into a time capsule and travel back ten years. The decorations are dated, along with much of the music, (they played YMCA by the Village People for goodness sakes) but there is something magical about these places. Unlike American clubs, they have a feel of someone's living room and aren't the cold and unfeeling places I've seen in past club outings. The people there are focused on two things 1-having a good time and 2- drinking. If you come across as not doing either, you should be prepared to spend the night alone. I was able to do both until 2AM. The Kissing Hour. (cue "doom" music) It is an unofficial rule in Roman partying, at least in all the clubs I visited, that everyone start kissing when the DJ announces it. Well, the DJ announced it, and I look to my left. Kissing. Look to my right. More Kissing. Look in front of me, MORE KISSING. The crowd parts, and an attractive but sweaty Italian guy comes a-walking in my direction. At this point, I only had two options. Deal with him directly...or run. I chose the latter, hiding out in the unisex bathroom.

After all the kissing was over, I emerged from the bathroom and decided to walk back to the hostel. I did so without a map, and really was able to take in the city. Of course, I made sure to not freak out my Mom and I did so with two guys I'd met who also were staying at the same hostel as I was. I'd be grateful they were with me, because not less than one block from the club, a random Italian homeless man began shoving roses he was selling in my face. Then he tried to hug me and touch my butt. The guys stepped in and got him off of me, and we made our way back to the hostel, which was a long walk, but we made it safely.

Over the course of the next few days, I would see all Rome had to offer. I went to the Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon and the Vatican. I ate such wonderful Italian food and drank fabulous wine. I even made friends with the staff at a wonderful restaurant called Miscellenea (find a review of it here), where Mikki, the manager, and his waitstaff made us feel like we were hanging out with friends instead of in a place of business. So much so that we could have gotten away without paying, they were so relaxed about it! It's right near the Pantheon, but only open for dinner. If you go to Rome, you must visit, if not for the inexpensive food, have a glass of the 2 euro 'sexy wine'. Unlike regular red wine, it is made from fermented strawberries, and not grapes. As a result, it has a smooth sweet taste and smells like fresh strawberries. I bought a bottle home with me, and my mom can vouch that it is amazing. I intend to go back and get more.

There are some aspects of my trip to Rome that I hated. So while I talk about how magical Rome is, and how you can smell the history and touch buildings that are older than Christ, there were moments where I wanted to leave. Walking around for two hours looking for a bank was one. Being propositioned as a prostitute was another. An Italian man asked if I had a hotel and if I would sleep with him for euros. After being disgusted and walking away, another Italian told me that because of my complexion, people would mistake me for being Brazilian, and the Brazilian women are perceived to be thieves, prostitutes and otherwise of bad moral character. It explained a lot of some of the treatment I received, but didn't make much sense because I spoke no Portuguese, had an American passport and an American accent. But they were convinced. A vendor spat into a sandwich that he tried to sell me which led to me screaming for my money back and having to call the police, a lady followed me around in a store because she thought I was going to steal something, even though I had no place to put anything, and I was glared at in many places. Later, I would find out that Brazilian women broke up a lot of Italian marriages and used to openly be spat at in Rome as they walked through the Piazzas. I was just grateful that never happened, because I'd be in Italian jail right now for murder.

While I enjoyed the beauty of the city, the saliva-free food, the wine, the architecture, I found myself more and more ready to leave Rome behind for Paris. The last night I was in Rome, I went to bed early after eating a three course meal for only 10 euros (about 16 dollars), made sure my clothes were clean and ready to be packed. On the plane, I found myself wishing that I'd been able to share the experience of Rome with someone else, and for the first time, I felt lonely. I watched out the window as the plane propelled up into the air and shut my eyes, wanting to get to the destination I was the most excited to see: Paris, France.

As I sat on that plane, I thought about my trip and realized I'd miss Rome. It's a city with so much history and beauty. Places like the Campo de Fiori look beautiful at night, as well as the lights all lit up on the Tiber River. The Vatican is breathtaking, as well as Saint Angelo's Castle. The Pont Angelo (Angel Bridge) lined with majestic angel statues that literally take your breath away, the clear blue water of the Trevi Fountain, the powerful emotions when looking at the Spanish Steps as well as the Tomb of Raphael...it's a city that serves as the model for many American cities. If you have the chance, do go see it for yourself. Even though I had some downs on my trip, I don't regret going in the slightest.

Before I knew it, the plane was landing outside of Paris, and the next leg of my journey was soon to begin.

Next Blog:

Parisian Perfection

Thoughts?

Ashley Robin

Roman Sentiments

2009-07-15T23:52:00.008-05:00

Hey,

After I said a goodbye to London, rode a train and arrived at Stansted Airport in the suburban London countryside, I would get on the flight from hell and head to Rome. Not only did I arrive at the airport entirely TOO early because of my own poor planning, but I was tired from being out the night before TOO late. I got up too late, and rushed, breaking my neck and not realizing that I could have taken my sweet time and arrived just like I wanted. However, getting there so early allowed me to experience what the airport SHOULD be.

In a word, Stansted cannot be described. It's clean, sunny, bright and people are really happy to be at work. Well, except those who work for RyanAir. (I'll get to that later). The airport is totally state of the art, with internet stations, showers in the restrooms, duty free shops like Chanel, M.A.C., Sephora, and a full fleged deli with caviar...sigh. Duty-free shops are simply places in the airports overseas where you can buy things and not pay taxes on them. Unlike America, where you pay MORE for goods at the airport, in Europe, it is LESS. Hindsight, I would have bought more from there. This is what it looked like.

Well, the flight from Stansted to Ciampiano Aiport was interesting. I'd never seen anything like it. The flight on RyanAir was more like the Wild Wild West. Passengers were drunk, flight attendants rolled the cart down the aisle selling food, then trinkets, then liquor, then jewelry. Random babies then began to walk up and down the aisles, and then they started to cry. There was a smell of body odor that ran rampant, and the Italian lothario on the flight proceeded to make his way down the aisles flirting with woman after woman, and by the time he got to me, he reeked of rum. People were not wearing their seat belts when told, the flight attendants were screaming at people...it was pure insanity. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I instead shrugged my shoulders and did a lot of head shaking.

Finally, I was off the flight and in Italy. Signs were in Italian, people spoke Italian. I landed at night, in an empty airport, and I got in my hostel late. I managed to drag my hefty bag there, and fell asleep. The next morning, hungry and out of money, I searched for a bank. In doing so, I would get my first taste of true Roman hospitality.

"Get out!" were the first words I heard upon surrendering my purse to a locker, and walking through a kind of revolving doorway that locked as you stepped in, which was unlocked by bank staff. I was confused. I'd said nothing and done nothing, and after walking in triple degree heat, I did not understand why I was being treated in such a way. I asked if they knew how I could get money from my account, and after rudely being told that my business was not wanted or desired, I was escorted (and I use that word nicely) out of the bank and into the street. I started to walk away, until I realized I'd placed my purse in a locker. I went back and after some fussing at the guard, I was able to retrieve it, safe and sound. It would take me almost two hours to find another branch, one in which my money and my business was appreciated. It happened to be in a tourist-y area, where I should have remained.

As I did in London, after getting enough money to last me for a moment, I began to explore my surroundings. However, while I was amazed by the history, and noticing the buildings and underlying beauty of Rome, I began to notice something else. People...were staring. At me. And I didn't know why. I walked along the Tiber River, down to the Campo de Fiori and watched the city light up at night. I walked past Termini station and down into Chinatown, where I scored two of the most comfortable pairs of sandals I've been fortunate to wear. However, I felt like people were staring. When I got back to the hostel, I asked why the people of Rome might find me so interesting and got no reply from the Australians who worked the desk. I showered, went out to eat my first Italian meal and shrugged it off.

My first Italian meal was pasta, of course. I washed it down with a Coke, and it's pictured to the left. It's known as a local seafood special, and consists of mussels, langoustines (shrimp), scallops and clams tossed with olive oil with garlic and a hint of basil on a bed of linguini pasta . The plate doesn't look too big, but it was deep and cheap and orgasmic. I found myself eating here everyday, where they knew me as an American, and because I tipped well, they took care of me. I was so hungry on my first visit, that I ate this bowl and took another as a take-away (to-go)! Hey, why not, I was on vacation! Who cared if my waist expanded? After a night of walking around, I settled in my room and went fast to sleep. The next day, I did not wake up until around 430pm. I didn't realize I'd slept so long until I looked up and realized housekeeping had managed to clean all around me. Invigorated, I decided to try my hand at a night of Roman partying in something called a pub crawl.

To Be Continued in:

Roman Sentiments, Part 2

My London Love Affair

2009-07-13T23:37:00.014-05:00

Hello All,

Some of you who read my blog know that I've always wanted to go to Europe. It's been something I've wanted to do since I first knew about it in grade school. My eyes would always grow big when teachers spoke of foreign places, and I always wanted to see the places spoken of with my own eyes. Well, just after my 25th birthday (eek!) I was fortunate enough to go on the trip of a lifetime. I planned it myself, without the help of a travel agent, and had no regrets. My money was saved up, my route was planned and directions were printed, research was completed. By the time the day came when I was due to board the plane to London, my first city of a few that I would visit during my 18 day trip, I was so excited to go that it didn't really hit me..I was getting on a plane and going to a place where I didn't know anyone.

I never told my mother, but about midway through the flight, it hit me. "What if I get sick? What if I get lost? What if I get robbed or attacked, or worse? Who would be there for me?" The closer I got to London, the more these thoughts seemed to disappear from my mind and more practical things filled it instead, such as "How the hell am I going to lug this bag around? What am I going to eat? What should I see first?" I stepped off the longest flight I'd ever taken on the Atlantic and faced the unknown with the optimism of a newborn. I breathed the air, looked around me and threw my arms up in absolute joy. This gesture, along with my American accent and naivete, was greeted with laughs and grins. I didn't care, though...for 18 days, the overseas world of Europe was mine, and I intended to do all I could to conquer it.

The trip started in London, actually Heathrow Airport. I remember stepping off the plane and not knowing what to expect, if people in the Queen's Guard uniforms would be standing there or if I'd be immediately offered tea and crumpets. I certainly did not expect to be interviewed for at least 5 minutes by the UK Customs Officials, while I saw plenty of other Americans bounce past the officials in seconds. However, I took it with a grain of salt, and carried on. After getting my luggage to the train, or 'the tube', lugging it up stairs, getting lost twice and then finding my way, and finally finding my hostel....I was beginning to relax. After bumbling around until I was able to get into my room, taking a hot shower and then going out, I did not feel like a tourist, but instead like I was home.

I walked throughout the streets, the well known ones and the 'dodgy' ones and felt as if I'd lived there for years, without a map, without a compass, without a guide. I found myself in supermarkets, coffee shops, burger joints, pubs, bars and nightclubs... shoulder to shoulder with the Brits. I drank potent apple cider for the first time, and also drank absinthe. I was asked by men to sit with them and entertain them with my "cute American accent". I did not receive any rude treatment, and when I did try on a Brit accent to buy a paper and some cigarettes for a roommate, the owner of the shop asked me what part of London I was from. "Brixton", I said, as I handed the exact amount to him, darting out of the shop before more questions ensued. I also made sure to do the "typically tourist" things, like walking through Hyde Park, stopping at the Marble Arch and the Wellington Arch (which is pictured with moi to the left) and at least see the inside of the Sherlock Holmes Pub. (They serve phenomenal fish and chips there, FYI)

I found out about the history of Big Ben, rode the London Eye and walked along the Thames River. I ate fish and chips, skipped the bangers and mash and indulged in a pint of ale. I drove past Wimbledon, tried Ethopian food and learned some Brit slang. I began to count my money in terms of quid, half-quid, quarter-quid and so on. I did not mind the intermittent rain, the cool breeze that whipped through my hair, and the awkwardness in dialing 13 numbers instead of 10, and how being a "vegetarian" was not as commonplace as it is in the States. I went without coffee. I woke up in the early mornings and walked, took the tube to random places, and saw the splendor of Harrod's. I was on a bus that drove on the London Bridge, stood in a spot where people were executed, and I learned the difference between crisps, chips and fries.

I walked through Piccadilly Circus, saw Madame Tussauds and stood at the site of the 02 Theatre where a Michael Jackson sign was being erected. I was hit on by men from Australia, New Zealand, Germany, France, Netherlands, Poland and Italy. I was able to find my way through a crowd of jubilant men and women, celebrating the arrival of an upcoming weekend by dancing the night away. I took a black taxi through a ghetto and saw their version of public housing. I saw the docks where the Titanic was built. I ate one of the best meal I've ever had in my life at a Gordon Ramsay restaurant and, if I did nothing else, I danced.

I was without a care in the world, happy and the world was my oyster. Simply, because I was in love. And I had made friends there too, who embraced my bumbling American way and made sure I was given a true tour of the city. Not something you get on a double-decker bus, or from a booth in front of the Ridley's Believe It or Not Museum. The way in which I was welcomed and embraced by the city and its people, wholeheartedly and without reservation, was priceless. It couldn't be bottled or mass distributed. As I reflect, I know that there is no price for what I experienced when I was in London. During those days, I fell in love with a city blessed with a history longer than the States. I look at my pictures from those days and I realize something, that my love affair with London is ongoing.

Thoughts?

Ashley Robin

Next Post: Roman Sentiments

Why I Boycott the COON Awards (otherwise known as the BET Awards)

2009-06-28T22:06:00.004-05:00

Hey,

So I've been a little outlandish in my attempt to get people to boycott the COON Awards this year. (If you don't know what I mean, I'm talking about the BET Awards). I call them the COON Awards because that's what they are. I could get into how offensive I find them, how I feel that all the executives at BET should just be shot...(The Toya and Tiny Reality Show is just one of MANY examples) but all in all, the network does nothing to uphold the ideals it was founded under.

Long story short, Bob Johnson and a bunch of other people made BET an outlet for African-Americans who had positive uplifting programming for the black community that could not get airplay anywhere else. They also created the network to help fill the gap in the number of blacks not just in front of the camera, but also behind it. The plan was to create a venue for blacks to not only get work, but avoid the stereotypical roles that were open to them at the time. BET wanted to give blacks opportunities to work, not just as actors, but also as directors, writers, producers, etc.

So now, we fast forward past decades of "progress" where many said BET was no longer needed because racial issues were no longer something that was in our faces. People (and I mean not black people) felt that the mass media outlet did not need to have such open segregation. And as R&B music rose in popularity, the artists themselves became more diverse. Commercially successful groups like New Kids on the Block and Color Me Badd, as well as individual artists like Jon B., Robin Thicke and Justin Timberlake caused a sort of melting pot of a "typically black" avenue of music. That, along with a great deal of syndicated programming allowed BET to set itself up to be bought by bigger television companies. So, when Bob Johnson decided to sell the network, why was anyone surprised when Viacom (home of MTV- a similar type of network as BET but more or less designed to please the "white, mainstream" audience) stood up and purchased it. With the sale, Johnson allowed his network to become the COON Channel and was able to not take any responsibility for it.

When I say COON, I do not say it to be disrespectful of blacks. I do not say it to get under anyone's skin, but I say it because that is what it is. COONing, as I mean it, is simply chucking and jiving for an audience, no matter what the race. Putting on a face other than your true one and doing whatever some conglomerate tells you to do in order to get ratings, and make sure YOU get a paycheck. Can we say "Sellout"?

So, why am I NOT watching it? Well, as we all know, Michael Jackson died. There are no words about that, and I could go on and on about what Michael has done for me and people I love, and I'm not talking about just making a record. But, in short, his death hit me HARD. Hard, not just because it was sudden and unfair and I wanted to see him perform in London, but because it's the loss of a musical icon. It's also hard to watch people who two years ago were distancing themselves from Michael because of his personal issues all of a sudden come out of the woodwork talking about how much they loved him. HA! And guess who is at the top of that list? BET Network.

So all the major networks covered his death and the still (as of this blog post) undetermined cause. And because Michael has legions of fans, people who never watch the news are suddenly glued to their televisions, which results in higher ratings. CNN reported a 965% increase in ratings the day Michael died alone. ABC was around 600%, NBC was about 500% and CBS was around 450%, last I checked. So now, BET, with their failing ratings, sees not only an opportunity to tap into that large network of fans, but also an way to bring some major audience to a program that, quite frankly, sucks. Sounds like some phony BS and I ain't a part of it. I still hope all the BET execs are shot.

If you are watching or watched the show, in my mind you're part of the problem, not the solution. I wonder if Michael hadn't passed how much mentioned he'd have gotten. And that's my opinion and I'm sticking to it.

Later, (sure there will be plenty of thoughts)

Ashley

RIP to Michael Joe Jackson. A blog about him is upcoming.

In Honor of Father's Day

2009-06-21T04:19:00.005-05:00

Hey,

I know I haven't written in a while, and have pretty much lost most of my following as a result...which sucks...but I'm working on it. I've got more time on my hands now, and so I can spend more time writing. The blogs about Europe are coming, I promise, but for now... I can give something more amusing.

Now, I'm on twitter as @ashleyrobin. Follow me, I promise I tweet often enough to make it interesting. But in honor of Father's Day, the holiday to honor all the real fathers out there, I tweeted a bunch of Trending Topics in regards to growing up with my father, who I love to death.

The topic I used was #irememberwhen... so just for you, I am posting all the tweets I wrote. My mom can attest to them being true and accurate. If you knew my dad, you'd know I wasn't bullshitting or exaggerating. Enjoy!

The #irememberwhen Tweets

In honor of my dad, I'm doing a trending topic based on stuff that happened with him when I was growing up called #irememberwhen. here we go

#irememberwhen my dad was yelling for me (i was in the park), walking up & down the street in a silk robe (open) with boxers & pink slippers

#irememberwhen my dad asked me what i'd been eating because my butt had gotten so big. *FACEPALM*

#irememberwhen after I was crying about being flatchested my dad told me I should be happy b/c I'd never have to worry about them sagging

#irememberwhen my dad took me to the circus & was catcalling at the acrobats. "Can I take u home & show you how to bend those legs?" *FAIL*

#irememberwhen after I told my dad I wasn't a virgin anymore, he sarcastically said, "Oh, that's such a shocker" *FACEPALM*

#irememberwhen i told my dad I had a serious boyfriend, & he didn't ask anything, he said, "Dont get pregnant. I aint supportin no bastards"

#irememberwhen I asked my dad if he had a girlfriend & he said, "I'm 78 years old, who the hell am i gonna be fukkin?"

#irememberwhen dad asked me if I could rub his back b/c he was constipated. I told him no. I asked him for $$. guess what he said.

#irememberwhen a local boy asked my dad if he could walk with me as I walked my dog. My dad pulled a loaded gun on him. we were both 12.

#irememberwhen my dad took me to coney island & we saw a prostitute on the boardwalk givin head. I asked "what's she doin" he said "her job"

#irememberwhen my dad & i went to the res. people didn't have shoes. he said they sold their soles for alcohol. so i started crying for them

#irememberwhen he told me to stop crying for them, rubber was cheap. I thought he meant SOULS. He said they were all going to hell anyway

#irememberwhen my dad retired from his job & i asked him what he was going to do w/his time. His response: "watch oprah & porn"

#irememberwhen my dad yelled @ me for listening to hiphop music & not appreciating jazz. i went into his room & he's watching THE BOX!

#irememberwhen I asked him what he was watching on tv, and he told me "shut up, you don't know shit...go get me an ice cream"

#irememberwhen I asked my dad who he would wanna fight, Batman or Superman, he said, "Your mother"

#irememberwhen i used to ask my mother if she was sure this psycho really was my dad. She said, w/her head hanging low, "yes"

#irememberwhen i told my dad i was dropping out of college & wanted his support. He said, "Sure, if u want me to support u being a failure"

#irememberwhen when i got my wisdom teeth pulled after surgery & half drugged i had to go find my dad 2 sign me out he was asleep in the car

#irememberwhen we got home from surgery, & i asked him to make me some soup, he said, "get it urself, i aint ur maid" i cried & called mom

#irememberwhen she asked to speak to him, & then he was making me soup, tea, coffee...even offered to help me change into my pajamas

#irememberwhen my dad would talk all this mess about my mom, & then when she'd come around, he'd be EXTRA quiet.

#irememberwhen I asked my dad y he didnt say all that stuff 2 my mom,& he told me to shut up. I laughed. He locked me out the house

#irememberwhen i realized laughing at my dad for being a punk around my mom wasn't funny when it started to get cold. he let me in tho

#irememberwhen someone asked my dad why he drank evaporated milk in his coffee b/c it ws for babies. he said, "i ain't no baby, bitch!"

#irememberwhen i asked my dad if he ever believd in santa claus. he said "no, i believed in the pull out method" he's got 6 kids. *FAIL*

#irememberwhen i was so proud b/c i'd made the Dean's List & wanted my dad to know. He said, "ash, i know ur smart. it's ugly to brag"

#irememberwhen my dad told me i could do whatever i wanted as long as I ended up in NY. in Queens. In St. Albans. In his basement. With him.

#irememberwhen my dad got a mysterious 'free' cell phone in the mail. I asked him who sent it, he said, "The white man." *FACEPALM*

#irememberwhen my dad said he was getting his name on the Native American Wall in DC. That's nice but my dad is Jamaican. Accent & everythin

#irememberwhen i asked my dad to get me some feminine napkins at the drugstore. he came home with a roll of pink paper towels.

#irememberwhen my mom told me she once dated Billy Dee Williams. So I renounced my crazy father & was calling myself Ashley Dee Williams

#irememberwhen I asked my dad why we never went out anywhere to eat. So he took me to iHop & asked, "Now is the princess happy?" I wasn't.

#irememberwhen my dad asked me to take my makeup off @ the movie b/c he wanted to see if he could pay the child rate... #extracheap

#irememberwhen my dad last ordered my food for me at the restaurant. he proceeded to cut my chicken up for me. wait, he still does that.

#irememberwhen i asked dad about having guys over. he said, "when ur kids have more sex than u, u feel like shit. U'll see when ur married "

#irememberwhen i told dad i was going to tell his ppl at the res he was jamaican. he said, "treachery is rewarded with death" & looked at me

#irememberwhen my dad asked me where his dad's day gift was. I told him w/my bday present (none). He said, "I guess u must not want this $$"

#irememberwhen i hung up the phone & found a card and sent it to him asap. He called me & said, "Nice card, but i aint sending u shit"

***Just some of my memories with my dad, who I love to death. ****

Kisses,

Morsels: It's All for the P***y!

2009-04-17T23:13:00.002-05:00

Hey,

So, for some strange reason, I'm always asked about sex and relationships. I don't know why, but my friends and even people I don't know well, seem to gravitate towards me for advice and counsel in their love lives. It baffles me even to this day, because I'm perpetually single and tend to be less lucky in love then they are. Anyway, I tend to be honest and realistic in my advice. In so, I have set up four couples. Three of them are married, one is engaged, and the three marriages have all resulted in children. Part of me wants to open a matchmaking service, but I will hold off on that idea for a little while. In respect to that, I've decided to blog more about the things I get asked about, things I'll call Morsels.

With that, I give today's morsel to women. Most men out here are dogs. I'd say 80-85% of men out here are simply used to getting what they want. Now, I'm sure I'll hear from men who say they aren't, and therefore, they can find solace in being in that 15-20% range that are. Even though some of them may be lying to us, and themselves. But anyway, most of the dating game is not at all about dating. It's all for the p***y. Either the pursuit of it, the obtaining of it OR the ability to keep on getting it. And, I know, to be honest, if I were a guy I'd be chasing it too, but let's be real. Nothing really great comes easily. So ladies, instead of wondering why a man doesn't call you after you have sex or wonder if something is wrong with you because all the men you have sex with disappear, why not make it harder to obtain?

Realize that because you are a woman, and you have p***y, you have a good deal of control. Not all, but a good deal of it. Most women fail to see this, and find themselves hurt more often than happy. And bottom line, we all want to be happy, right? So, I'm not saying subject yourself to any games or deceit, but I simply say, demand more of the guy you are interested in. I could blog forever about the power struggles of dating, but that's later.

The next blog: My Advice on Getting a Mate and Keeping Them Interested (Men and Women)

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

What A Wonderful World

2009-04-08T23:09:00.003-05:00

Hey,

So I've been gone for a little while. Long story short, a lot has been going on in my little old life that made me wonder what direction fate/destiny was taking me. I didn't think I could write and still have the same sense of the world that makes me, well....me, and so I decided to take a break.

I think that we all come to a point in our lives where we are tested. Who knows why, or for what purpose, but sometimes those tests come in the friendships we think that we make, the choices or decisions that we are faced with, and the journeys that we choose or not choose to embark upon.

With that, I am and always will be a big believer in fate. Lately, I've been questioning her, and myself, but...as just a believer as I am in fate, I am in karma. And karma is a b-i-t-c-h. So, although I may have been tested by others, karma will right all the wrongs.

In conclusion, I apologize for my absence, and I am announcing my return! More sarcasm and nonsense to come in the days, weeks, months ahead. FYI- The trip to Europe is set, I leave May 17th, and will be taking pics, etc...

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

The Drama with the Passport!

2009-03-16T21:48:00.003-05:00

hey,

i've been out of the blogging game for a while, but for good reason. i have good news, though, and that is that i'm going to europe this summer. very exciting, and the trip is very wonderful. i'm planning it all out now, which is pretty much consuming my time outside of school and the doctor. as far as the medical, i'm doing so much better...and i consider this trip to be a reward for myself.

so, today i went to get my passport for the first time. well, i should have not listened to my mother's friend at the passport office, and just went to the post office like normal. however, he told us that i needed to go downtown to the official passport office to get it. well, i get down there, park my car and am off. this begins the hellish adventure of obtaining my us passport.

first, i have to go get my passport photo. i go in the little shop, and a spanish speaking old lady points to the stool. so, i sit down. no warning, no nothing, but a giant flash goes off in my face. i must look confused, because she says, "you go" and points off to her side. so i get up, and a few minutes later, my picture comes out, and in it...i look like someone slapped me. so i ask for a retake. this time, i look like grimace the grouch because i'm trying to keep my eyes from widening so big from the bright light. disgusted, i take the photo and leave. (I'm getting my bank to reverse that charge).

i go to the passport office, and it is PACKED full of random people. so i leave, and am told i can apply at a post office across the street. i go there, and the most mentally lacking person who mumbles everything starts reading all the details on my application. now, that's one thing, but then she starts revealing my details to everyone around. that's right, she starts READING my application out loud in louder than normal speaking volume. She didn't believe I lived in englewood, etc...

finally, i finish there and head out to go get my car and go home. i walk down the street and see two boys tripping a nun, and laughing. so, me being a catholic and young woman, i help her get up and collect her belongings that she dropped as she fell. then i make sure she's fine and proceed to tell the boys (once she is out of earshot) about what her outfit represents and that by tripping her, they have condemned themselves to eternal hellfire.

so, I get my car and drive back home, killing a seagull. i ran it over with the car, and i still feel guilty. but, it was either swerve and whack an old woman or whack the seagull. since seagulls can't sue me, i figure it's time to say bye to the bird.

after that, i realized i'd been dinged twice on my card for a charge i never made, and then...i got hit on by....THE CORN MAN.

all of chicago knows this man...he rides or walks up and down thoroughfares on the south side selling the mexican corn...which is a roasted corn on the cob (or in a cup) with mayonnaise, mexican cheese and sometimes has hot pepper on it. because i am light skinned, and wear my hair curly, i am often thought of as latino. and because i was in a latin area of the city, i guess he felt like he could holler. but he was at least 40, had about three front teeth, and was wearing a sombrero, pushing his corn cart down the street. he even asked for my number! i was beyond mortified, especially when all my friends i was meeting saw him talking to me when honestly, i just wanted the corn.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

I Told You So!

2009-02-14T19:37:00.004-06:00

Hey,

While I recuperate from my illness that I wrote about here, I am literally under instruction to "take it easy". Many people who know me know that I am not a person who does that. So I find myself in a bit of a Catch-22. As a result, I find myself looking at a lot of articles and watching a lot of CNN. As of today, I just have four words for all those who doubted me. They are:

I told you So.

A while back, the whole scandal erupted with my former Governor and official Hero, Rod Blagojevich and his Senate Appointee, Roland Burris. At the time, they could not reject Burris' appointment simply because Blago (as I affectionately call him), was allegedly dirty. Now, we all know Blago got thrown out of office and Burris proceeded to step all over his body to get an alley-oop into the Senate. Now, it appears that karma is a b**ch and she's pissed off at Roland Burris.

An article has come out in the Chicago Sun-Times that states that Roland Burris is more than likely going to be investigated for perjury. For those of you not sure of how perjury comes into play, Burris testified to the Illinois House Impeachment Committee in early January that he had no contact with Blagojevich or any of his staff in regards to the Senate appointment. Now, it appears that that may be a false statement. In an affidavit, which is a certified legal document, the Senate appointee admits that he spoke with Blagojevich's brother, Robert, in regards to a possible $10,000 donation to his campaign or campaign support upon his becoming the Senator from Illinois.

I am laughing my ass off right now, because it feels so great to be right. The wrongs of corruption should be corrected and Burris should be kicked out of office. Being found guilty of perjury alone is a charge serious enough to cost a practicing attorney their legal license to practice law. In theory, a politician can be stripped of their title for such. Look at President Bill Clinton, who was impeached for perjury. We all know what happened there.

So, with Blagojevich saying that even though he was out of office, we would hear more from him about names, times and places, as well as making sure any and all affiliated with any of the crimes he was thrown out of office for, with these affidavit, and now all these balls rolling in a direction to get Burris out of the Senate, as many (myself included) have wanted from the beginning, a man that no one wanted in office initially, except those who didn't really understand the dynamics going on around it, I say finally, Karma is a b**ch.

I just wonder where "Senator for less than six months, perjurer and overall failure to the people of Illinois" will fit on his massive tombstone "monument" to himself in Oak Woods Cemetery on the South Side of Chicago, Illinois.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

A Bit of Irony

2009-02-12T00:10:00.000-06:00

Hey,

I have been feeling tired, exhausted and like something was draining me for weeks. I go so hard on things that I do in life, that I usually am the last one to realize if something is wrong with me physically. I've been taught from a young age that pain is nothing but a hinderance, that you suck it up, ignore it, will it away, wish it away, and it does everything you tell it.

However, last Friday, I could not ignore the pain anymore. My mother and I went to the ER after the pain was so bad that it caused me to swoon, and subsequently, I passed out.

Eight hours later, I was found to have a really bad kidney infection. How does one get a kidney infection? Well, a few days before, I'd had stomach flu really bad. The doctors believe that the virus somehow didn't die, but traveled instead to my right kidney, which already is weak, and infected it. I also have found out that I have other issues which have contributed to the infection, but I'll keep those private for the moment.

The point is, I now find myself in a position where I cannot even attend school because it is far too uncomfortable to sit in a chair for a long period. I went to my classes today, and found myself in agony to the point of screaming. And because of the infection and antibiotics, I can't take anything for the pain stronger than Tylenol #3, and I'm downing them like breath mints to no avail. I think I took 3000 mg of Tylenol today alone. Sad stuff, I know. Until I rid myself of the infection, I can't have any surgery or medical procedures done to rid myself of the pain. The one procedure I do have on my schedule is for next week, where I will get a dye injected into my kidney to see if there is any scarring. There is also another one, where I will be injected with something to pretty much force all the gunk in me out. *Sorry if that's TMI*

I tend to take everything that happens in stride. Here I was, exercising and working towards running a marathon, and now part of me isn't sure what will happen to me next. I swear, I just feel like I'm climbing an uphill battle and I've got cement blocks in my feet.

So the irony comes in a bitter pill for me. I wanted to slow down, and now I have to. I can't will my body to heal faster, and I can't force myself to do what I can't do. I'm hoping that Monday will bring me a better chance to bear it all though. I can't wish for Thursday soon enough.

ARGHHHH!

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

Back Again for the 2nd Time

2009-01-31T22:23:00.003-06:00

Hey,

I know I have not posted in a while, but a lot (and believe me when I say a lot) has been going on in my life. So many misadventures to tell you about, I hardly know where to begin.

I hate to say it, but the past two weeks have been strange. I find myself constantly on the move, busy with things, and between schoolwork, catching up on sleep and trying to get my head back into the academic game, I'm dragging. Not really sure why, but Im just not getting the sleep I want, I don't have the energy or passion I need to function, and Im just..drained and bored.

I just found out today that my May graduation has been pushed to December. Why? Because of a god***n technicality. Nothing else. So I have two options, be pissed about it OR take advantage of my situation. I'm going to do the latter. I've decided to stay on at my school for the Fall Semester, and take some additional classes that can help me if I choose to go into a Masters/JD Program. I also am still taking my trip, and getting my bike. Nothing stops. I have learned to not stress myself with things out of my control, and unfortunately, my advisor not being the least bit accommodating, is one of them.

I have an internship in the PR Department of a local hospital. I enjoy it, but I'm always so damn tired...and it seems as if my presence is the bane of the Department Coordinator's existence. I try to do my job as best as I can, but some people just ain't morning people. I seem to be one of them. Not a morning person, but one of the night people, I mean.

Im getting an iPhone tomorrow as a late Christmas gift to myself, so I'll be able to blog more as I go about my day. I promise not to have such a lag in it.

Sad day about Blago being impeached, kicked out of office and banned from holding any Illinois office as long as he lives. I, being someone who loves the law, believes in being innocent until proven guilty. I think that he should have resigned, and while he did not want to do that, there is someone who could have gotten the message through to him that the cards were stacked against him. Honestly, I've liked Blago. Any man who can personally ask me for my vote as I ride in my car and even lean out his Black SUV and down into my droptop convertible to shake my hand at a stop light at 67th and Cottage Grove is my governor, plain and simple.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

Dream a Little Dream...

2009-01-17T23:57:00.004-06:00

Hey,

Today is a sad day. I realized that today I put a wall up when it comes to people. Not just in my relationships, but friendships and whatnot. I'm very guarded, which is something that was hard for me to admit. So, I'm sad. I believe that I've always allowed myself to be an asshole, someone who listened and never spoke, and when I did speak, the words weren't as honest as the words I'd heard from others. Oh, I've known for a long time that I'm an asshole in certain ways, and that I, like most people, can be pretty self-serving, but in this time that I've spent stress-free, I've had the chance to learn about myself, and know more about the girl who stares back at me when I look in the mirror.

First, she's not a girl, she's a woman. A woman who knows what she wants, and when she wants it. A woman who won't settle, who will do anything for her family and who is loyal to her friends to a fault. A woman who finds humor in the crude, wise and intellectual things, and who gets her kicks from reading about policy law. A woman who is learning to smile more, to be more open and to not hold herself to some incredibly high standard, a standard so high that she doesn't even hold others to it. It's unrealistic for them, and now, as I've learned, is unrealistic for me. There is no formula to life, and there is no appropriate time to do things, except when the time feels right and the stars are aligned. (If you believe in that sort of thing)

So, I'll learn to dream a little, to not worry about having a plan and to move forward naturally, not because of pressure from others, the outside world and the need to feel as if whatever I'm doing is 'acceptable'.

On A More Personal Note, I forgot to mention...

Happy Belated Birthday Aaliyah Dana Haughton, who would have been celebrating her 30th birthday, January 16th, 2009.

I miss her a lot...she truly was an angel on earth, heaven sent.

Rest Forever in Heaven, and Rest In Peace.

Love You.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

Today Would Have Been:

2009-01-17T12:02:00.000-06:00

Hey,

Today, I'm a bit bummed. I know that I am bummed and blue because of many different reasons. One of the reasons is that I have to return to school on Tuesday (Wednesday if I can get the okay to watch the Inauguration). I'm not looking forward to school mainly because I have spent more time stressed there then anywhere else. Last semester was so rough for me, emotionally, just because a lot of drama happened. And ironically, most of the drama was not my doing, for a change. I was unwillingly pulled into a situation that was out of my control and there was nothing I could do to stop it from happening. Because it happened, I was accused of having part in its creation, and the drama followed me as a result of that accusation. It sucked, and I looked forward to the break to just get away from it. And I did. While I didn't travel anywhere major, I was absolutely stress-free. I enjoyed talking to my dad, hanging out with my mom, sipping hot toddies and watching Jerry Springer. I'm sad to say goodbye to that time.

Another reason I'm bummed is because of the weather. When it gets cold, I tend to just retreat into myself, and not really want to do much of anything. I find that I get bored with being in the house, but unable to push myself into the world. It's a weird limbo that I live in, and while I don't like it, I find comfort in it. However, this cold is unlike anything I've ever seen. It moves, it breathes, and it just turns people into....assholes. Today, I was out in the cold, trying my best to be polite to people, and not only did some man try to steal my shopping cart at the store, in his efforts to take the cart (which had my cell phone and keys in it) he pushed me into the snow. I was lucky in that I could grab my stuff before he disappeared into the store, but what if I'd been unable? I was shouting at him that I'd grabbed the cart, but he didn't care. At all. I wasn't hurt by it emotionally or physically, but it was just the rudeness that hit me just like the cold. Hard, insensitive and unrelenting.

I'm also going through a stage where in my recovery of my past relationship that I begin to feel sorry for myself. Overall, mainly because it looks like I'll have a whole year after graduation to kill before I go to law school. And I know that in that year, time may go by slowly or fast, depending on what I am doing with myself. For example, my mom asked me when I was going to start dating again, and I had to excuse myself so that I wouldn't cry. Pathetic, I know, but I'm just feeling a little off center. I've not had much luck with relationships, and I'm starting to feel like I'm not meant to. And before anyone says it, I'm not whining, or even looking. I guess it's the inertia of my life, the uncertainty of what's to come. I can plan my semester, even a few weeks or so after, but the rest...remains unknown. With the job market being even more depressing and unrelenting than the cold, it just seems like next year, I'll be doing nothing but blogging and writing. Which is okay, but unless I get some crazy idea to make an income off of it or ~~join a cult~~ start work for PrePaid Legal it won't pay my student loans.

Thank god for Forbearance!

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

Friday Five: Five Thoughts to Keep in Mind When Approaching a Woman

2009-01-16T00:55:00.000-06:00

Hey,

So it took me a little while longer than usual to come up with my list for this Friday and is actually getting posted late..(my bad). It's my gift to men, and it's the five thoughts to keep in your mind when you approach a woman. This list does not apply to men looking to seek the boughetto, one-nighter or 'popped' woman. No disrespect to them, but this is the list for a man who has an intelligent, articulate, wife-type in his sights.

5- Frumpy= Dirty+ Smelly, therefore Frumpy= U Solo.

Men should understand that women are not naive. Generally, most of us are interested in a man with a command for the English language. So walking up and speaking gibberish like, "sup lil mama, u lookin gud in dat dere dereons, nowhaimean shawty? what up!" is bound to get you the "what the hell" face? Just as how you speak is important, how you look is just as, if not more so, important. I only say that due to the fact that most people base their first impressions of people not on what is said, but by what they see. Even if your vocabulary is on point, and you show her that you were not required to ride the short bus to school as a kid, that you didn't need special tutoring to learn how to "read good", if you look like a lame ass, Cash Money records reject, you will get shot down more times than not. If you want a girl who is not ghetto, white tees, gold fronts, Timberlands, and fake gold chains are not what's hot. Neither is hot breath, dirt stains, yellow teeth and uncombed hair. You have to dress the part to get the girl you want. Now, if any of the aforementioned is what you are, that leads us to Thought #4.

4- Be Yourself, even if That Self is an Ass.

If you are a nasty, grimy, stank-breath having, car bumming, broke, jobless, aimless, lazy, freeloading mama's boy, then you need to go after women who will want to take care of you. Likewise, if you are a guy who takes three hours to get dressed for a function, whose eyebrows are perfectly arched all the time, and who is often asked questions about his sexuality, then you need someone ready to handle that also. Also, if you are uneducated, unintelligent, and obnoxious, you need someone to be supportive of that. I can only say that presenting the woman of your choice with who you are from the moment you met her is vital, simply because it prevents drama from happening later. *Drama, for example, being a pot of hot grits thrown on you, something that is best known to have happened to legendary singer Al Green.

3- Being a Know it All is NOT Attractive. Shut Up and Listen.

Albert Einstein was a genius. However, even he got crappy grades. How does that relate to your approach? Well, men who seem to know it all don't wind up with the girl. While it is great to look well versed and know what you are talking about (you don't want to come off as an idiot) you don't want to seem to battle her for the title of "Most Intelligent Person in the World" within a few days or outings with her. It's all about listening and observing, allowing her to control the conversation, simply because you learn more about her, and you also show that you don't need to be in the driver's seat every single time you interact. It also helps to let her stay within her comfort level, and trying to "teach" her about something may backfire because it can drag her, kicking and screaming out of it.

2- Confidence is JUST Like Cologne. Too Little, You Can Barely Notice It. Too Much, and It's Way Overpowering.

There is a need for cologne and confidence. However, you have to know when to stop putting on both the confidence AND the cologne. Some men use being overconfident as a crutch because they can rely on it to round out their nerves. Others use lack of confidence to come off as genuine, and 'real'. However, both approaches to it can be wrong, depending on how you play it. Women can detect it, however, so keep in mind that your confidence level counts. You should know in your mind that this woman is going to want to get to know you, but she shouldn't realize that you know this. Subtle, my Rhett Butler in training, is the key word.

1- As Play said, Check Yourself Before You Wreck Yourself

Ice Cube said it too. In those cases, it meant threats of harm of some kind. In this case, it means, make sure you are together physically and mentally before you step out and try to get the attention of the young lady. Make sure your hair is neat, breath is fresh, that you smell right, that your clothes are clean, as are your nails and that you have means to get her information. New school: cell phone. Old school: paper and pen. Just make sure you look nice, that you know what you are going to say and how you are going to say it, as well as the impression you want to leave. Don't dally, don't stutter, don't slur, don't drool, don't fidget aimlessly and don't, WHATEVER YOU DO, don't look off into the distance during the conversation. Women don't like that.

It's So Hard Being Cold

2009-01-15T00:12:00.000-06:00

Hey,

So, I'm in Chicago, home of the 30 below temperatures. The weather, as told by Amy Freeze of Fox News, (enter obvious joke here), is going to be so cold that people are advised to stay indoors unless they absolutely must have to venture outside. With that in mind, what do you think my plans are? Yep, you guessed it, to go outside.

So, why am I venturing out into below zero temperatures, to face the "frozen tundra" and potentially risk frostbite on my person? Simple. I have a date with waffles. Specifically, some of my female friends and a plate of waffles. Fried chicken and extra maple syrup is optional. (But still great.) I don't know if I'll actually do the chicken since I have yet to eat meat in 2009, but we will see. One of my goals for 2009 was to lower the amount of meat I ate, if not cut it out altogether.

I guess I value time with my friends more than I do my fingertips, and maybe that's just dumb. Or, I just really love the taste and the smell of chicken and waffles. But I've got gloves, a hat and a good coat, so I guess that's the most important thing. Meanwhile, I hope and pray that those waffles keep me warm.

Meanwhile, let me just say that I am not happy about Roland Burris becoming my Senator.I even wrote Durbin a letter in response to it, telling him that I refuse to even acknowledge that man as a Senator-elect. Granted, he has BIG shoes to fill, but still...the man is an idiot and just as big an egomaniac as Blago, if not more so. People hate Blago in Illinois, but any man who has a shrine to himself erected in a cemetery before his actual demise....yeah, no comment there. I just hope that the next two years fly by and someone worthy wins the seat in election. If Burris runs for it, I pray that Lisa Madigan (the person who I felt should have been appointed) runs and kicks his ass in the primary.

More blogs are coming, and I'm always looking for inspiration for more. So hit me up!

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

I Will Not Be Seeing Notorious

2009-01-13T17:43:00.001-06:00

Hey,

If you haven't realized from reading the blogs that I've written so far, I'm a New York native. And unlike many of the posers, I am not from the suburbs, from some weird place near New York City, I am from there. I was born and raised (for a while) on the South Side Jamaica Queens, home of 50 Cent and a bunch of other of those jokers, as well as my favorite rapper NaS. So, anytime that anything New York related comes out towards Chicago, people I know ask me my opinion on it. So, there's this movie coming out about Biggie. After a nationwide search, they found an unknown actor to play him, and this actor (Jamal Woodard) said he went to Juillard to work with a vocal coach to get the voice of Biggie down.

*Dead*

Even with the fascination I have for Biggie's life and learning more about him...

There's one reason and one reason only why I will not be going to see Notorious.

Lil' Kim is not with it.

And as her fan, I gotta support her.

Say whatever you want, but I love Lil' Kim. She's my favorite female rapper, period. I'm not a fan of some of her ho-ish antics, but she is who she is. After meeting her and going to her concerts on more than one occasion during my summers in New York, I can say that her music is a perfect representation of her. She is who she is. Like her or not, she's gonna be that. If you like it, buy the cd... if not, go f**k yourself. That's her mantra, and as a confident woman, I love that! I've always been more of a Kim fan than a Big fan. I liked the stories that Big told in his songs, but I loved the passion and arrogance that Kim brought to hers. Even if the story was about some random sexual encounter, or even how some wanna be tried to holla, her delivery was bananas to me...and I had to get as much of her music as possible. When my mom found out I was listening to her, she made me give her all of my Kim cd's with the intent to throw them away, which made me so upset. Then, before she threw them away, I asked her to listen to my side and not just the words. When she realized that I wasn't taking the words as edicts for my own behavior, she let me have them. Happy day! LOL. I even had my mom listening to some of her stuff...and while she never really understood why "such a pretty girl just had to be so trashy", she allowed me to keep my Lil Kim music.

I even dressed up as her in high school, for favorite celebrity day senior year, and I took my costume from this video. The song is called "No Matter What People Say" and my costume was just like her outfit at 2:39. It took me a week to make it, and I had a blonde wig dyed like hers. I even memorized the entire dance sequence and "performed" as I went about my business that day at school.

We all know that Big and Kim had a relationship, and it was full of passion, determination and strength...possibly even more so than the relationship that Big had with Faith. And my girl does not like the movie, more specifically, the way she is portrayed in it. So, like her, I'll catch it on bootleg, on cable or if ever.

*Thoughts?*

Ashley Robin

Living a Life that is Stress-Free

2009-01-11T13:45:00.000-06:00

Hey,

For the first time in a long time, my life has been relatively stress-free. It's a weird feeling to not have any drama, conflict or issue going on. All of my MisAdventures are relatively easily solved. I ended my cycle relationship with my ex-boyfriend, and things between us have been excellent. We've always been close no matter what, and probably will continue to be.

Last night, a mutual friend of ours got engaged. We all knew he was going to propose, and he wanted to ask her to marry him in front of all his and her friends. So, we headed to dinner at this really nice place out in the Schaumburg area, and because we hadn't told this group of friends we had broken up, we decided to just wait until after Rodney proposed. We both agreed that this night was Rodney and Amber's night, and our news would just take away from it. Anyway, he picked me up and off we went, just talking about things.

We got to the dinner, and did our best "couple" behavior with all of our coupled friends, sitting by each other, and even laughing and joking. When Rodney proposed, all of the men took the hands of their dates, and my ex took my hand, just like the rest of them. When all the women giggled and grinned at Amber's engagement ring, so did I. But even though the behavior matched, there was something missing. It was if by lying to them, we were lying to each other, and the longer the lie went on, the longer we both realized that it would end, and we would go back to being just two people.

It's hard ending a long relationship like that, going from being a fixture in social settings to just going back to being regular folk. Rodney told my ex and I at the dinner that part of the reason that he proposed was because he had watched us together, and realized because of us, he realized he was in love with Amber and didn't want to spend a moment without her. I was more than happy to hear that, but also sad because we couldn't last. It's interesting, to mourn the loss of a relationship. Like an old friend, it changes just as you do, grows as you grow, and adapts with you. The other person in the relationship is just like you, learning, changing and growing...and it seems as if they should serve as your parallel. In the case of my past relationship, neither of us wanted to let it go. We decided to do what was best for the both of us, and it has worked out so far. Events like the engagement dinner however, serve as terrible reminders. Anyway, I made it through it, with no kind of awkwardness.

As far as the one who got away, that situation resolved itself rather nicely. However, I find that now there are others who are interested in me. Why is that as soon as I free myself from one situation, there seem to be others who are interested. However, if I'm not attached at all, there's no one around? It's almost as if there's some kind of signal that recently single or attached women give, like they just smell better to men or something. It makes no sense to me at all...I'm clueless about it. If I could get a man's opinion on it, I'd be able to know more. It's just one of those things that makes little to no sense in all the issues of the world. So frustrating.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

Awkward Situations

2009-01-05T18:22:00.000-06:00

Hey,

So everyone I know has that "one that got away". You know, the person who you wish more than anything you could get a re-do with, that one guy (or girl) who you know if you just had one more chance with, you'd end up with them, contentedly living out your happy ever after. I've loved a few men in my short 24 years on this planet, and I've loved them hard. I've been lied to, hurt, dragged through the mud, cheated on, etc...and I've grown to be strong and resilient despite all of that. But, I've never really had any regrets in my life as to how things have turned out with all the men I've dated, whether I loved them or not. I've never regretted the decisions I've made, the way in which those decisions were made, or even the drama that surrounded them, simply because it made me who I am today.

Except one.

Oddly enough, he wasn't the one who I thought it would be. No, not Mr. Wonderful (or the former Mr. Wonderful), but someone who has hardly been mentioned on this blog...if at all.Isn't that the way that things turn up, that you end up reflecting on the past and find that in your analyzing of the past that you think more of people who you might not have noticed in the beginning. Sigh, I'm rambling. Anyway, the one who got away, who I'll call Mr. Escape Artist, has re-inserted himself into my life. How ironic that those things happen, and now, of all times. Karma is something funny, I tell you.

I'm not really sure what to expect, or even if my relationship could be as it was, or even if I want it to be. I just want to let him know that I've grown up, and I don't expect some sweeping emotional reunion. I don't even expect a do-over, but part of me just needs to tell him that I felt about him the way he felt about me, because the first time, I didn't. I'm not even sure why that is, why I have that need....but I do. I'll figure out the right time, and the right moment...and after I say it, I won't speak on it again.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

Friday Five: Five Lessons Learned in Jail

2009-01-02T23:53:00.000-06:00

Hey,

Today's Friday Five is about the Five Lessons Learned in Jail.

{My cousin's husband was a guest of the Florida State Correctional Facility, and when he was released, I asked him if he had any stories of interest about jail. From them, these lessons are derived.}

There are few experiences in life that teach you about your nature, that are both embarrassing and humbling, that are funny and sad, dramatic and fretful while seemingly boring and unforgettable than jail. Getting arrested, however, is not cool.

There is nothing funny or exciting or thrilling about being arrested. I promise, to all the kids looking to toughen up their resumes, jail time isn't it. Get into a street fight and then run like hell when/if the cops show up. Don't ever get arrested.

5- Talk is Cheap

The Bottom Line is, running your mouth to people you don't know and pretending like you got picked up for murder when you simply were disturbing the peace, trespassing or even jaywalking. Even pretending to be a badass is not cool. People know that isn't who you are OR why you are doing your bid. Something in the eyes, the way you walk, your confidence, whatever...they KNOW. People also know people who surely know YOU. I'm sure you are familiar with that bit that the comics do, where they pretend they are the baddest mofo on the planet, and act crazy...it doesn't work. Truth is, everyone in jail, especially in a County facility, is crazy. So pretending to be ain't smart at all. Matter of fact...that sh*t is for the birds.

4- If You Do Talk, Prepare to Back It Up

If you talk about how many asses you can kick in jail, then be assured someone will try to test you. If you try to back down, then you'll get it. FOR REAL. And the guards ain't there to break up sh*t. They will sit and watch and laugh at you getting yo' ass beat, just because you said you were the baddest mofo on your block.

3- If Someone Asks For Your Biscuit, Eat It. Even If You Don't Want It.

In jail, food is synonymous with the social hierarchy. If you give up any food to anyone, that person becomes higher than you on the hierarchy, and you become their footstool. (or their b*tch) So, if you ain't hungry, don't willingly give that ish away. Let them 'hungry' mofos get it out the garbage. Peeing on it beforehand is optional.

2- Songs about Being a Convict Might be Funny, But ACTUALLY BEING a Convict Ain't No Joke, Kid.

Akon might sing somewhat funny songs about being Locked Up and how they "won't let him out", but actually BEING locked up is no laughing matter. Once those bars slam home, and you know that you can't freely roam around, go to look out your window if you want, or even take a late night stroll..it's real. You are no longer you, but a piece of property belonging to that correctional facility. The Smoking Gun says that Akon is no felon, so why would you want to be?

1- In Jail, Time takes on a Different Meaning.

When all you can do is wait on a certain amount of time, it takes ten times as long to arrive. It can take a lot of sanity to deal with it, and in doing so, many people form hobbies. Some carve chess pieces, (like in Shawshank Redemption), other people brutualize people (like in Shawshank Redemption) and other people work out and get super buff. Regardless of that, jail time is lonely, unforgiving and unforgettable.

In Jail, only Boggs will hear you scream...

SO STAY THE HELL OUT OF JAIL!

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

Roland Burris, Senator? Maybe, or Maybe Not.

2008-12-30T20:31:00.000-06:00

Hey,

So, I was on my couch, taking a break from writing, and I happened to turn on CNN. Now, I'd read the news that Gov. Blago planned on appointing someone to the Senate seat, but I did not read about who the person was, simply because I wanted to be surprised to find out what idiot had actually accepted the man's phone call, much less agreed to be photographed or seen in public with him.

Enter Former Illinois Atty General Roland Burris, 71.

No one can deny that Mr. Burris has had a long history in Illinois politics, that he has been known for his ability to keep on trucking despite three gubernatorial losses, as well as being the first African-American politician to serve in a state-wide Illinois position.

However, some who know Burris say that he also speaks of himself in the third person, is career-motivated and serves as spokesman for the Help Roland Burris Make Money and Be Powerful campaign. I had an encounter with Burris when I was a child, and I did not like him. I just had one of those "lights are on but no one is home" moments with him. My mother met him also, independent of my experience, and not only was he condescending, she said he just seemed lemming-ish. Now, we all know lemmings are not leaders. They follow. And Barack Obama as a Senator might have been many things, but lemming-ish was not one of them.

The drama begins...

It's like a bad made for TV movie. I can just picture it, "Close but Yet So Far: The Roland Burris Story" on Lifetime Movie Network. Rod Blago would be played by Eric Roberts. The press conference alone was a circus. First, Blago says that he's been loving the attention he's been getting, then Burris starts giving shoutouts at the podium, which led to Congressman Bobby Rush (who looked terrible...like he might be sick or something) coming up on the stage and basically telling the media that anyone who did not support Burris as a Senator from Illinois is racist.

Meanwhile, Harry Reid, leader of the Democratic Caucus said before Blago announced Burris as his pick that whoever Blago picked would not be confirmed by Senate Democrats. Due to the fact that I was bored at home, I looked up cases to see if what Senator Reid was saying is legit. According to US Supreme Court ruling on a case of Powell v. McCormack in 1969, if Illinois Congress approved the appointment of Burris to the US Senate, then Reid and the other Democrats would have to let him take the seat, and then convene a special vote, which would require a 2/3 vote in favor of expelling the new Senator. Honestly, they aren't going to go through all of that, it's too much effort to get a vote together, and there are more important things Given the poor attendance record of most Senators, that might prove more difficult then thought. Also due to Bobby Rush making the case for race, many senators may not even want to vote in such an election, just so they didn't have to even deal with the 'appearance' of being racist. Imagine Jesse Jackson and PUSH marching in front of Senators offices all along Capitol Hill carrying signs saying "Racist Senator works here".

Right on his heels, Illinois Secretary of State Jesse White has said that as far as he is concerned, Burris will not get through the appointment process. However, as the Secretary of State, he has a duty to basically approve and put the official seal on documents that the Governor issues, as well as carry out directives issued by the Governor. It is simply his job to "check the person out" not make a determination of whether or not they are morally qualified to hold such a position.

However, since it appears the no one, including Blago's lawyer, wanted him to make this appointment, people will now be on a mission to somehow find a way to either make Burris' life hell, tie him in some way to Blago, or create some kind of loophole allowing them to give Burris the boot. What a terrible way to end his career, because from this fiasco, there is no escape.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

New Year's Eve (aka The Annual Drunkfest)

2008-12-28T18:24:00.000-06:00

Hey,

So there are few holidays that I get excited about. New Year's Eve is not one of them. Something about getting older, more time passing, people acting like complete idiots just because a new year is on the horizon...I don't get it.

Every year I decide to go out and do something "fun" for New Years. Everytime, however, I am disappointed. One year, I did the countdown in a car ALONE. One year, I was arrested. One year, I was in the hospital. Another, I ended up in the bathroom with food poisoning. Once, I was molested. This year, I'm getting some good food in me and then sleeping through it. I swear, it'll be the best New Years ever.

So in an attempt to be more interactive, I ask you, my readers...what was your worst New Years Eve memory? I'll share mine in the next post...mainly because it will take me a while to decide (so many were terrible!)

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

Friday Five: Five MisAdventures of My Childhood

2008-12-26T19:58:00.000-06:00

Hey,

I've decided to try to do a weekly post called the Friday Five. I know bloggers do them often, where they make occasional lists about things that are on their mind or randomly find themselves the subject of whatever they've been influenced by.

The first time I ever posted something about how I grew up, or even about my family, it rang as something that people could relate to, and seemed to connect with the readers of this blog. As a result, I've decided that my misadventures of my youth are just as interesting as the ones of my adulthood. So, here we go, my Five MisAdventures of My Childhood.

5- Climbing into bed with my mom when I was afraid of the thunderstorms.

Ever since I was a child, I was always frightened of thunderstorms. I would climb into bed with my mom, and she would tell me a story to occupy my mind, usually about something mythical, and these stories would involve kings, wicked dragons, princesses...but as I got older, they became tales of secret agents, star-crossed lovers, dynasties and government upheavals. All fabricated from spur of the moment ideas, and all fantastic. I lived for those stories, and began to slowly like thunderstorms because of them.

4- Cooking with my father.

My friends will tell you that my least favorite place to be is in the kitchen, but I can remember preparing dinner with my father, who made cooking fun. Watching him create his "Secret Spicy 'Maican Sauce" was always something I loved, not just because of the music he'd hum while cooking, but also the smells. He would tell me about my great-grandmother and how the recipe for the 'Maican Sauce was passed down from generation to generation, and one day, if I was lucky enough, I'd learn how to make it. The 'Maican Sauce, as I call it, can be used to make authentic Jamaican Jerk shrimp, chicken, beef, etc...

3- Sharing Ice Cream with my dog, Freddie

In the summers where I'd visit with my dad in New York, I would be allowed to buy an ice cream cone whenever the ice cream man came. Sometimes, I'd splurge and buy a milkshake, but usually I would buy a chocolate cone with sprinkles and sit on the steps of my house and eat it, slowly enough that it would melt on my hand. Freddie, my cocker spaniel that I had since birth and who was joined to my right hip, had to be restrained in order to not climb all over me and eat it, but became my personal paper towel, as he would lick my hand clean and then look at me as if he wanted more. As a result, I started buying him a vanilla cone of his own. My dad started to wonder why I asked for double the amount of money, and later would tell me he assumed I was buying ice cream for one of my local friends. When he discovered that the extra cone was for Freddie, he would begin to join us on the porch, eating ice cream. No matter what he did, for two summers, everyday at 5:15 or so, all three of us sat on those steps eating ice cream. Even if we were mad at each other or not speaking, it became a silent ritual.

2- Tree Climbing with Kevin

When we climbed trees, we suddenly became the masters of the world. We would climb one tree in particular, and stay in it for hours. Conversations that happened in the tree stayed there, and we experienced a lot of emotions in that tree. Sadness, regret, joy, love, sorrow and pain...they were all emotions that the tree held for us. We would often climb the tree when hiding from the world, and when our parents would call the other in search for their child, we would brave the outside to go to the tree, and usually find the other nearby, if not in its branches. Kevin told me about his cancer in that tree, while he was on the phone with me as I sat in DC, he was safely in its branches talking to me and telling all about the battle ahead. We used to picnic in that tree, and every single time that I pass it, I think of him. He carved our initials into its side as a monument to our memories one day, and recently, I saw a boy and a girl, who looked eerily like us sitting in it, giggling. It made me think of us, and I'm sure that as long as we are able, we'll find solace in its branches.

1- Walking around my neighborhood

In my New York neighborhood and my Chicago neighborhood, two different worlds existed. In Queens, people were much more diverse, friendly and interactive. I often spent hours just walking around, usually taking my cocker spaniel, Freddie, with me, and I would find stores, friends and hideouts. It was not strange that a young child, a preteen and then a teenager would be ambling around the streets. I often thought about what life would be like if I'd grown up there in the summers I visited, and I would walk around, creating memories as if I had, and laugh at myself for doing it. Chicago, was also its own world, people seemed less open, less willing to understand my exploration and people often would ask me where my parents were. I'd often go for walks and my mom understood this, so she'd let me go...and as a result, she often had to explain to my neighbors that she knew where I was and that it was really okay. The neighborhood was divided, but still held a certain mystique to me, a flavor that I could not find in the streets of Queens. I loved the comparison, and when I tried to explain it to my mom or my dad, they would both look at me completely confused, simply because they'd never taken that journey with me. I felt like those walks were my own secret, one that only I knew about and understood. Because of that, they were a million times more special.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

So Long, Mr. Wonderful (Falling Out Part III: The Conclusion)

2008-12-26T00:18:00.000-06:00

Hey,

First, I say Happy Holidays grudingly, simply because I am no fan of the holidays at all. While I do wish that everyone enjoys their Christmas, New Years, Kwanzaa, Hanukkah, etc., I don't particularly like the holidays. Probably won't until I've either gotten over my own issues with the holidays or have children that force me to be into it. Even then, part of me hopes that I can just drop them off with either my mother or the family of their father so I can be left in peace. Long story short, bad things seem to happen around the holidays....to me, to my family, to those I care about....so I'm biased. I treat this Thursday just like any other, well...not any other, because I'd probably be able to go get a decent drink but can't because the bars are closed. I really need one, and the drink I made isn't doing much to stop me from feeling like absolute sh**.

Why do I feel like sh** and need a drink, you ask?

So, I probably had the worst conversation that I've had in my entire life. I told my ex-boyfriend in the most direct and straightforward way possible, feelings being damned, that there was no way possible that we'd end up together. He came by my house to drop off a Christmas gift for my mother last night, and I asked him if we could talk. I'd been dreading this conversation for awhile, and as soon as I realized that it HAD to happen, I was loathing the fact that the cycle would be ended, and by me. Part of me waited for him to tell me that he'd fallen for someone else, that the picture of the two of us in a loving embrace on his nightstand had been replaced by one just as intimate with someone else...anything that did not make me the villian in this conversation. I remember it more vividly than I probably should, him standing in front of me slightly slouching down so I didn't feel quite so small, his eyes fixated on me in a lovingly manner but then looking away just as soon as he felt my eyes on him. It was weird seeing him like that, for the first time vulnerable, unassuming and not confident. He looked as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders and it was up to me to release him from the burden.

I spoke, softly and calmly. "Look, you and I both know that we go through this cycle with each other. We can't decide whether we love each other or hate each other. It ends up with one of us hurt, one jealous or angry and both of us confused." He swallowed as he looked at the ground and shifted his weight, silently agreeing with my statement. I looked at him, and without his permission, continued. "We've been going through this cycle for years, and I'm just tired. I can't keep doing this with you anymore. I can't keep putting myself out there, waiting for you to figure out what it is you want, only for you to hurt me somehow. It's not healthy and I don't have the strength to keep doing it. And I don't want to." I paused, only because he looked me directly in my face, and it shocked me.

He looked at me, and his eyes were heavy. I'd never noticed that his attitude was patient, something that I'd least expect from him, given from the situation. He cleared his throat as if he was going to speak, but hesitated. I looked at him, and he slid to the ground, almost as if his knees buckled from under him. Instinctively, I went to reach out to him, to comfort him, to touch his face and try to undo the hurt I'd just caused him. But, I realized in an instant that I'd never be free of this cycle so, I just folded my hands and looked at him. If he'd looked up at me in that moment, he'd have had me under his spell...but he didn't. Instead, he spoke two words as if they were the last words I'd ever hear him say, and when he spoke, his voice was strangely unfamiliar because it was wavering and soft, as if he were about to cry. "You're right."

I looked at him, and realized that he was sad. Not just sad, but devastated because he knew the true meaning of my words. He looked up at me and tried to find some level on which to connect with me, but I couldn't look him in the eye. He said, "I know that I hurt you, and I'm sorry. I believe that you deserve better than me. I've just allowed my jealousy and insecurity and doubt of us ruin any potential of something real. And I'm sorry. I'll never forgive myself, even if you do." I slid down on the ground next to him, and in the barely lit living room, my hands found his face. I spoke, being sure to not sound like I was yielding in my stance, and the words formed even before I knew I felt that way. "I already have. But we both deserve not to be in so much pain. Love shouldn't be painful, it should be effortless." He looked at me, finding my eyes this time. "So what we had wasn't love? Is that what you're saying?" I curled my legs under me, watching my lower half move, and I said, "No, what we had was love. It just wasn't the kind of love that could be forever. I want my forever." He kissed my forehead and hugged me close to him. "And I want you to be happy."

Losing myself for a moment in the warm, robust smell of his collar that had been my drug for so long, almost too long, I realized that I do want to be happy. But in that same moment I wondered that if my happiness only lies with him...if all my love would forever belong to him. If my life was simply meant to be an extension of his. I thought back on all the memories I had with him, all the time, counseling, all the time I'd believed that this man, whom I was consoling, was the love of my life. I saw everything, him placing a ring on that all-important finger, us running down a hill hand in hand after our wedding, me looking at him for support as I gave birth to our child, watching him sing that baby a lullaby, laughing at private jokes that we shared, growing old. I even saw the sadness in his eyes as I sighed my final breath, the tears coming from him naturally, and then the tears of our children as he passed on to join me in the afterlife. I saw it all, as he embraced me, and it seemed so intoxicating. But it was not real, it was my idealized vision of how I saw life with him, and it was not true. So, we sat there for a while, quiet and not-moving, and it went without saying that I'd been the stronger of the two of us, even though I'd never known it. It also went without saying that I'd officially let him go.

The rest of the conversation was pretty intense. And pretty personal...so I hope you won't mind if I don't share it. But let's just say that after some discussion, the chapter of Mr. Wonderful is closed. Maybe someday we will be friends, but for now, it's closed.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

Falling Out (part II)

2008-12-21T12:17:00.000-06:00

Hey,

So to continue my previous post, there are many reasons why I cannot let Mr. Wonderful out of my life.

Our relationship was tumultuous, to say the least. It was full of extremes, extreme love, anger, pain, detest, passion, arguments, making up and complacency. But if it is nothing, it is familiar, and I love that about it. I love the moments where I don't have to think with him, and the fact that no matter what the emotion that he and I are experiencing, I can always go to him and curl up in his arms and stay there for as long as I want. He's never, ever pushed me away. That's not the way he is, though, but that's how he is with me, and despite all the potential drama, I don't want to let that walk away out of my life, because overall, there is history there and at the end of the day, I value his friendship, respect his opinion and always will look for his encouragement.

Another thing about our relationship is that although it's full of extremes, it reminds me of the relationship that my parents had. Volatile to the extreme, they fought like dogs. Some days they were fighting, even to the point of physical blows...but then, hours or up to a day later they'd be laughing together or all over each other. It was kind of gross because it was my parents, but at the same time, interesting. When I found my ideal mate, I promised myself that I'd have some of that passion in my relationship with them. With Mr. Wonderful, I found out that extreme existed and it was with him. It was easy to fall back into the cycle, and now more than ever, I find myself standing on a precipice, not sure how to behave because being without him is unfamiliar.

We often go weeks without talking to each other. It's normal, and usually means that one or both of us is pursuing something with someone else. After seeing him out Christmas shopping around the end of November with a girl who obviously was into him on that level, I decided to move on. Seeing him with her didn't upset me as much as I thought it would, and it snapped me out of my whole "waiting for him" stage. So, I decided to go on a date. And it was nice. More than nice, it was drama-free. So, I found myself feeling things that were relatively foreign to me, and while I enjoyed those feelings, I found myself feeling strange because they weren't feelings for Mr. Wonderful. I found myself wanting to explore them, but also wanting to dissect them. I decided to ignore my head and just go with the flow.

It is difficult when you have loved someone for so long and then you realize that they have either forgotten you or moved on. It is agonizing to admit your love for them in the first place, and just as agonizing to not know what they are thinking when you do admit it. In my case, I've loved three people in my life, one died when I was young, the second loved someone else more and Mr. Wonderful was the third. My love for him probably was the deepest, because he helped me get over a lot of different things. So, when I was faced with the decision of having to let him go so I could move on, I choked.

It goes on even more....

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin

Falling Out (part I)

2008-12-21T01:59:00.000-06:00

Hey,

So the current MisAdventure seems to be the cycle that I've managed to fall into with my ex-boyfriend. The one that I'm always mooning over, the one that one of my best friends, Kelsey, is convinced that I will marry... Mr. Wonderful.

He and I, we seem to live in this cycle where we love each other, get bored with each other, do things to hurt each other, fall out of love with each other, make up, become friends with each other and then fall in love all over again. It seems, in order for us to complete an entire cycle takes anywhere from 6-10 months. We've done it maybe 3 times. The cycle has existed through other relationships, through dating other people, through our own decisions to stay away from each other and through our own emotional issues.

Essentially, I'm not strong enough to be hurt over and over...and he's not able enough to recognize that he hurts me. In my effort to rebel against him hurting me, I do things to hurt him and end up feeling guilty about them, but what I don't realize is that my behavior does hurt him and only makes him less likely to change. It's an emotionally draining thing to be involved in, and if I was able to realize it was happening in real time, I'd stop and talk to him about it...but even when I've had the inkling to, I can't.

The thing is, I love him. Even thinking about him now, I smile. But then, the smile gets lost somewhere in the memory of all the drama, late night arguing, tears, pain and feelings of loneliness....but even with all that, I can't imagine my life without him. He's become a part of me, and the longer this goes on I begin to realize that I have a decision on my shoulders. Either I deal with the issues that I have with him head-on, if that means relationship counseling, if that means being uncharacteristically honest with him about how I really feel....or, (and I shudder at the very thought of it) I let him go. I end the cycle right now, in this moment, and I learn to live my life without him. I don't really know how to do that, but I imagine it would be the same as any other loss, moving on and simply taking things one day at a time...one step at a time.

I had my epiphany about this whole situation today, as I was driving around getting some errands done. A song came on my radio via my iPod nano, called "Falling Out" by Keyshia Cole. It pretty much explains how I feel when I'm in the "doing things to hurt him/falling out of love" stage...all the pain, the sorrow, the abandonment, and the loneliness that I feel...it's summed up with her words. In the end of the song, she lets him go...I just hesitate on making that same decision...

I'll talk about my hesitations when I post tomorrow...

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

I Always Knew that One Day, They'd Try to Bring Me Down

2008-12-15T15:08:00.000-06:00

Hey,

So today, I am getting over being sick as a dog. My nose is red from sneezing too much, my head hurts and my throat aches and I'm exhausted from not really sleeping well. Anyway, I have found out that, yet again, I have a hater. I am never against having haters, simply because they motivate me to keep on my everyday hustle, but it always shocks me to find out who is doing the hating. This time, it is one of the people who I never thought would be so against me.

I'm not about to put them on blast, because that's trifling, especially when I have yet to figure out if or how I'd even let them know about themselves, BUT, I write about them because I need to address a trait in myself. I'm loyal. To my friends, my family as well as the people I care about. It's rare for me to go against someone, even if I hear they talk about me like I have a tail. (And that's pretty bad, to me.) BUT, if you talk ish about my mom, I will pretty much call my relationship with you dead and stinking. That's what this person did. They talked ish about my mom AND my dad, which kinda hurts. It stings something terrible since my dad's relationship with me is so complex.

I don't really talk about my dad much. Not to anyone, mainly because my relationship with my dad is so crazy that I barely understand it. First, he's gonna be 80 years old in January. Second, he's suffering from an aggressive form of rheumatoid arthritis, but more importantly, degenerative disease that affects his memory of the long and short term. He will eventually lose the battle with it, and not remember me, my mother or even the events that have occurred in his own life. Add in the fact that he and I are alike in that we are both stubborn, strong-willed and hard to read, as well as not the most tactful or considerate people and we make a pair. However, with my father's condition, and (assuming) the fact that he is aware of the issues that come with it, he has become softer. He has good days and bad, (more good than bad, for now) and his good ones are filled with love, with pride and with genuine kindness. His bad days are when he's the most disapproving, critical and judgmental. He is probably the one person, because he and I are alike in many ways, who can say the exact thing to make me upset. He knows it too, so when he is sad and hurting and wants me to feel the same way, he hurts me with his words. Despite all that, I can say that I do not doubt that my father loves me. In his own way, his occasional disdain for my life is also his silent approval. He has laughed with me, cried with me, and let me sit in his lap, even at 20 years of age.

My father is a sore subject for me, in relation to this person who is talking ish, mainly because they have not met him. They would not even know my father if he walked past them in the street...and yet, they are alluding that my father is the reason I have gotten certain things in my life. My father, who has had very little to do with the choices that I make, who has had his own health problems and other illnesses to deal with, and if he had any influence over me, would have chosen an entirely different set of rules, is now being accused by this person, this stranger, to have been behind a lot of my successes. Oh, how I wish I could say that. Unfortunately, being his child meant that I'd have to walk my own path, without his help or assistance...and yes, he could have assisted a lot. With money, with phone calls, with an email or two, my father could have shaped a different life for me as if it were no big deal. However, I walk my own path.

I realize now that some "friends" aren't friends at all. And if they certain that they truly are in life for good reasons, they are only pretending and may be pretending to themselves as well. Which is even sicker, in my opinion, and is a solid case for psychiatric treatment. I used to say in high school that true friends stab you in the front. A girl I know, who I was close to once and am not anymore, corrected me and said, "True friends don't stab you at all."

She's right.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin

Music Sucks, so it follows that the Grammys would suck too...

2008-12-14T22:17:00.000-06:00

Hey,

I never watch the Grammys. I stopped watching when I was much younger, simply because Will Smith was nominated for "Gettin Jiggy With It". Sorry, but that's not rap to me. I was so offended by that alone that I decided I'd never watch a Grammy show again. Due to the fact that I had (and still have) a passion for music, my mom questioned me about it, just yesterday. "If you love music like you do, why WOULDN'T you watch it?" Well, I answered her question by saying something like this, "If they call Will Smith records rap, whereas groups like Talib Kweli, Common, Wu-Tang, etc.. get no love at all...I'm done with it."

Overall the state of music today, sucks. We got Kanye going crazy with the autotune (or just going crazy in general, he seemed completely nuts on SNL and even before then, telling a fan to "Eat shit and die" was a bit extreme despite him throwing a penny at Ye), the emergence of a female wailing about her "Um-berr-ella-ella-ella" and T-Pain, who while adding the autotuner/vocoder craze, also inspired a bunch of drunken anthems. So, watching a show that celebrates the best of crap seems like the last thing I'd want to do. I need good music to be inspired by, and the music industry is okay with giving me garbage. So, I conclude that music needs to be revived. No more "remaking" the oldies, or sampling, but just original ideas. If Bob Marley can make a song comparing revolution to getting ganja from people in the neighborhood, surely someone can come up with an original song idea that appeals to the masses enough that I don't have to search iTunes and other lesser-known sites for it.

I've been listening to a lot of abstract stuff as of late, some French rap (je parle en petit francais) (and yes, I can understand about 65% of it, more as I learn about French slang) and old school stuff. If you have any suggestions about good music, let me know.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

Dating...I'm Just going to sit this one out...

2008-12-09T00:25:00.000-06:00

Hey,

So it's the holidays and I'm kinda missing my ex-boyfriend. Not because of the need to have someone there to look at across the table, to have that person around to deal with crazy relatives, but just because he was an awesome kind of guy.

I look back on the times of my life when I was attached, and while I enjoyed it, for the most part, I felt that I had to work at the relationship. I would get bored so easily, and either get sick of the person OR they'd get sick of me. Either way, my track record with the male gender sucks. I always manage to feel like crap about it, simply for one reason..and that reason is:

I SEE UGLY WOMEN WITH BOYFRIENDS.

(now my mom said that I shouldn't assume they are great boyfriends or that I'd even want these guys, but I say screw that...if the 400lb lady on the bus can find a tenderoni love, why can't I? I'm a size six, with curves, a NY accent, a penchant for books and thrillseeking and a love for lemonade. I also read books really well, can cook my ass off and I don't eat pork. Who wouldn't want to date me?)

There, I said it. Yeah, yeah, I know it's wrong to see people as ugly and whatnot, but damn! I see physically and emotionally ugly women with boyfriends. I usually think to myself, "Well, if her ugly ass can get a dude, I KNOW there is one out there for me." But then I never find him. I hold out for a particular type, a guy who is smart, funny, kind, strong, ambitious, somewhat nerdy and somewhat good-looking. There are other things I'm looking for, but I don't want to get too specific. Bottom line, that guy is not the guy I end up dating. The guys I end up dating, for the best and worst case of the word, are assholes. Some are good assholes and some are bad, but yeah, these guys are good-looking, arrogant assholes. It's something about a confident guy that just does it for me. I don't know why.

So I end up dating a guy who is the opposite of what I want in some ways, and wouldn't you know it...I end up super unhappy and end up breaking up with them maybe a few months into the situation. It's obvious what the problem is...I either don't know what I'm looking for OR I am intentionally punishing myself by pushing away potential guys that fit my criteria. Either way, my love life is pretty shot. So, unlike the people out here who say to just keep looking, or don't look at all...I'm done. Why? Because the idea of dating just disgusts me.

The ritual of dating or courting began centuries ago when rich people wanted to marry other rich people, and met in settings prearranged by other rich people. In these settings, the future couple would never be allowed to be alone, and would fall in love with one another via letter, not email. Sometimes these couples would not even HOLD HANDS until their wedding day. And while many may balk at the idea of not getting some s-e-x (or at the least, a smooch), marriages in those days rarely ended in divorce. Yeah, you could say that they just stuck it out to stick it out, but they knew (unlike now) that marriage as well as divorce was not something taken lightly.

Modern conventions of dating are much different. People tend to look for opportunities to be alone, letter writing is d-e-a-d on arrival, unless you count texting. LOL, what a riot. Anyway, it's a game of storytelling. You tell a person the story of your life, they tell you theirs and if they don't sound too crazy, self-absorbed or just don't click with you, they move onto the next level. Then, if they keep it up, eventually physical interactions get involved. Then, it gets dicey because love comes into the mix, either too much love or not enough love, and you either break up, fall in love or fall into a pattern of routine.

Honestly, I want to be wooed. I don't need the settings of centuries ago, but a line better than "Hey, baby, what yo name is?" would work. Until I meet someone who I think I can deliver on what I want, I'm removing myself from the dating scene. I'm just gonna...sit on the sidelines and watch the ugly women with their boyfriends and continue to be confused.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

A Love Song for My Male Best Friend

2008-12-06T22:46:00.000-06:00

Hey,

So, I read a bunch of blogs randomly. Most of the blogs I read always are talking about sex, the people who have it and those who don't, the need for it, as well as how to get some more of it in your life. In my reading, I seem to find that a lot of folks are under the impression that men and women cannot be friends. Either it's because one secretly wants the other, they both want the other and don't know how to work it out, or they are doomed to eventually try out a sexual relationship and have it go completely bust.

However, my male best friend and I do not fit any of those three. Not only have we known each other so long it's not even funny, but there's no sexual tension there. Oddly enough, we set up to be a couple by two friends. It worked and we were involved romantically. But given that we were young, it didn't mean as much if we were together now. I think about those times and laugh, because he was a sweet boyfriend, but it was more or less going through the motions. No real "Love Connection" there.

So, we ended the attempts in trying to please others and just started hanging out. We'd watch TV together, eat dinner with my mom, go for long walks and just talk about things. We'd huddle together on a park bench in the winter and drink hot chocolate, and in the autumn, we'd rake leaves and burn them (even though it was illegal, we loved the smell) as we cooked s'mores and drank spiked iced tea. We planned to take over the world, and we laughed at almost everyone. Eventually, our relationship became that of best friends, and while it was weird in that we never really discussed its evolution, we started to rely on each other in ways that a lover could not meet.

In high school, we ditched classes to hang out together, we walked around downtown and sometimes went shopping, and we made sure that we caught the first show at the movie theatre on Thursdays when admission was $2.00. Those were the good old days. We've done a lot, and our relationship has a lot of battle scars, but we've settled into a groove that proves that males and females can co-exist in relationships that do not require sex. There's no sexual tension between us, and trust me, we've seen ALL of each other that there is to see. I love him, he loves me, but that love is not sexual. So, to all the bloggers, men and women can be best friends without feeling like they must have sex. My relationship with Kevin is proof of that.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

The MisAdventurous Ashley Robin is BACK!!

2008-11-30T01:41:00.000-06:00

Hey All,

I've been M.I.A. because I have been working on a documentary on Barack Obama for a class. This is the preview (or trailer) for the full length film. It is my baby, basically, and I've been hunched over the computer for many a night with no sleep to get this part done in time. LOL. So, as a side effect, no blogging. Well, now that the video is done, I get parts of my life back and now have to suffer through hoping that people actually like it and understand what it is about. That's probably the hardest part.

I just wanted to figure out why people support Barack Obama, and the answers I got varied. While all aren't in the trailer, some were simple as "he's the black guy" to the complex "he truly understands the plight of the ordinary American" (and then a dialogue about what they feel that plight is...) but it was an interesting journey. I don't know if I'll actually put the real documentary together anytime soon, despite the 09 release date, mainly because I gotta graduate, you know?

I gotta thank the President Elect and his staff for their assistance, as well as all the people I talked to both on and off camera, and my family for watching it over and over again with me.

But take a look and comment, and be honest in how you feel about it.

*Ashley Robin*

The distressed look of the footage of Barack is to create an illusion of something that happened that passed...

Qualifications for Mr. Robin (An Addition to the Official List of Haters)

2008-11-09T23:34:00.001-06:00

Right now, Hugh Laurie (my cat) is the only male that lies in my bed. That'll change sometime soon.

Hey,

So this cat to the left is my Hugh Laurie. I've never put his picture up on the blog before, mainly because most people know what he looks like, but the picture just seemed so appropriate, as he is the only man who occupies my bed at the moment. And he does so, quite naturally, to be honest. It is funny to see him keeping my bed warm for me in the day, the afternoon and the night. But it's nice to have him as a personal sheet warmer. Even as I type now, he's curled up next to me, leaning on me and watching me type, with his constant "are you for real?" face. He's a funny person, and yes, I refer to him as a person.

Anyway, today's MisAdventure relates to my previous post. If you didn't read it, I was basically summarizing my happiness that Barack Obama has been elected to the highest office in the land. As a result, men (black men in particular) are gonna have to step their game up a little. It was never acceptable for me to date a 'wanna-be' thug, or a guy who didn't know that a belt actually holds the pants up, not in place below their ass. Recently, I have been the subject of an IM conversation with a guy who attends my school. Honestly, I have a very small idea of who this guy is, I know him but I don't KNOW him. This guy is convinced that I'm a hottie, his word, and that because I'm so hot, I should go out with him.

I've decided to post some highlights from our iChat, and ask you- am I deluded, or was I in the wrong?

him- maybe we can plan a time to meet at school
me-for?
him-just to talk and catch up on things
me-isnt that what we are doing now
him-yes but i think it would be nice to see you again in person
me-why
him-so we can kiss. JK no, i mean i just think it would be a good experience
me-why?
him-because i want to be your friend and get to know you
me-why?him-because youre sooo my type jK
me-um...
him-well the real reason is because i think highly of you and i want to get to know you in a lot of ways
me-why him-because i want to get to know you. i like you i think youre a hottie foxy
me-?
him-seriously i think youre really cute i think youre soooo hot youre too hot to handle too cold to hold
me-what? him-i told you i like you me-but you don't know me him-but i want to me-nah
him-nah what? why are you not taking me seriously? me-no
him-give me a reason why not we're both black
me-well, because when pressed to say why you're interested in me, you just say im hot
him-you are hot like in a sexy way
me-yeah, but that doesn't do anything for me sorry
him-youre on fire are you into knuckleheads and thugs? im a good catch a true gentleman
me-no
him-i have more to offer than other guys at school
me-im into men that wear suits that have goals
him-they dont have what i have
me-that could be a future anything i need a guy who has more than me, who makes me want to be a better person
him-theyre just ghetto snipes i mean they probably didnt even vote on drugs or gay or felons
me-are you even reading what i said wow
him-yes i reaad it
me-that's not a thug i described

He goes on to tell me that I've underestimated him because his parents live in a million dollar home that he lives, that he drives a nice car and all that, and because that I want to meet a guy like Barack when I'm in law school, I've described a thug who will never amount to anything in life and who won't even graduate from law school. He also says he's upset that I don't like "decent men" and that I like "bastards". When I say that I'm dead set on what I believe and what I want, he then starts becoming offensive to me, saying that I'm ghetto and ignorant, and that I won't amount to anything either. He's so wonderful, and I'm just a gigantic loser. He says I don't have anything, I won't find anything, then calls me a prejudiced white girl and says I sound like a redneck. It was a mind-blowing conversation.

So, svoneagwish1183, you are #458 on Ashley Robin's Official List of Haters.

Yes, that's his official AIM screename, hit him up and tell him about himself!

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

We All BARAcked the Vote!

2008-11-09T20:52:00.001-06:00

this is my artwork of Barack Obama. I'm proud of it and of him.

Hey Everyone,

So the 44th President of the United States has been decided. It is not the Senator from Arizona, John Sidney McCain, but the young Senator from Illinois, Barack Hussein Obama.

Not only do I take pride in his victory because of his views politically, but because of the legacy and history of his campaign and of the Senator himself. He, like me, is of mixed race, and I look at him with pride and because of him, I can tell my unborn son that anything is possible.

However, the office holds a lot of responsibility, and a lot of pressure is being put on him. People expect him to solve their problems, change their lives, and basically be the cure-all to a lot of things. It's a lot for one man, and he's just that, one man.

But, in Obama's victory, I realized something. I realized that men, in general, are gonna have to step their 'game' up. I'm no longer interested in a guy with sagging pants, with no life purpose and a mouth full of fronts. (Actually, I never was interested in that to begin with.) I want a guy who feels just as comfortable in a suit as he does in a pair of jeans, and when he does wear jeans, they should be jeans that fit. He should be able to take me to a play, an art exhibit or to a sushi restaurant with no problem. I don't want a dumb guy, so he needs to not only be smart, be ambitious, have a goal, and be willing to be my partner in love, life and family. As Barack described his wife, "the love of my life and my best friend".

Fellas, now you gotta get on a higher level...a Barack-type of level. (You know he wasn't walking around with his pants sagging at Harvard Law)

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

Love Song

2008-11-03T20:56:00.000-06:00

Hey,

So I'm being silly for a minute and publicly confessing my crush on TJ Holmes. Some people might think he's a sellout, whatever, but he's a fine sellout! I was actually up before 10am on both Saturday and Sunday, and was able to find his cute face smiling all in my television. He made me download the podcast for the program so I could run with his voice in my ears. Sad, I know, but TJ is that ish! Check out the above video of the new crush object.

Anyway, I'm trying to find some new music to listen to. The iTunes library is nice, but I've got to expand my horizons a bit and find some stuff to listen to. I already got the old head music, the hip-hop, both popular and low profile and all that. So any suggestions, let me know ASAP.

Otherwise, my plan to run in the Chicago 2009 Marathon has been realized, and my marathon training has begun. I've been running my miles, (I try to run at least once a day, but usually run once every other day, around 2 miles) but I have yet to really get into it. I have realized that I just need a gorgeous male trainer. Gorgeous men do it for me every single time. That way, if I need help lifting or whatnot, he'll be right there to assist. LOL, in more ways than one. I'm changing the diet, joining the gym...it's all good. October 2009, I'll be ready to run the Chicago marathon, in more than one way! I have to start hitting the equipment in order to build more muscle mass to run faster, stronger and longer. We will see how it goes.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

So the Stress CONtinues

2008-10-20T20:57:00.000-05:00

Hey Everyone,

I am bugging big time. Stressed the hell out. Between midterms, law school applications and writing this personal statement, I am a bit like Joe Stress pictured to the left. Not that bad yet, but I could get there...

The problem that I have with stress is that I have no proper outlet for it. I've tried everything but exercise, and that's happening soon. So, we'll see what happens. My plan is to train for a marathon, so I'm running little by little, building up my endurance, and when I get some more money, I'm going to join a gym to start my strength/resistance weight training.

Other than all the law school/midterms and other school related things, I'm dealing with stress of my friend Kevin and the death of his grandmother, my other friend Kelsey and her wedding next year that I'm the maid of honor in, and part of me is worried about a date. I know that it's a year away, and I know that I have all this stuff going on around me, and I'm stressing about a date. I know that it is weird and trivial, I know, but I don't want to be THAT girl. You know the one, the girl who comes to weddings alone. The girl who sits in the back of the room sipping on a martini watching as everyone else dances and drinks and mingles. That girl isn't going to be me. Not that having a date is the cure to that, I can be a guest without a "+1" and be perfectly content...but in the year from now and the day of the wedding, I guess I'll just have to accept my single-ness. Or single-dom. Who knows?

Does it make you sad that you're single? Does it automatically mean that you are desperate for love and attention? I'm not particularly sad, or desperate, but I do wish I had a person that I could call to take me to one event or escort me to another. I don't. It also doesn't help that many of my friends are engaged, and getting married. 7 couples in 3 weeks. Craziness. I am not saying that I want or need to be married or engaged to feel happy, because no one knows what goes on with those 7 couples behind closed doors, but I guess I'm just one of those people who likes having a guy on speed-dial. A guy that's not Kevin, because he just doesn't count.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

Colin Says "Yes I Can" (Vote For Barack Obama)

2008-10-19T22:27:00.000-05:00

Hey,

So I'm guessing that I was the only person not surprised that Gen. Colin Powell would be endorsing Senator Barack Obama. Why was I not surprised? Well, Mr. Powell has always been a man of sound judgement and reasoning. (Well, except on that whole IRAQ thing...)

But anyway, anyone with proper judgement and reasoning would see through all the crap that McCain is trying to dish out and realize that Obama is by far the better statesman. It's the same reason why the polls are turning against the self-proclaimed "underdog". (And by the way, no one LIKES being the underdog..that's like saying you like losing.) I don't know about you, but I never liked losing anything and I still don't.

Everyone is shocked because Powell is Mr. Black Conservative..and represents the base of people who are staunch Republicans and McCain supporters. So, some are in a bit of a tizzy about it, and I'm sure Powell will be getting some weird glances at the country club. But hey, at least he's gotten some cool points with all the black folks who claimed he just wasn't "black enough". Personally, I don't think he's losing any sleep over his choice to tell Tom Brokaw he was saying "Yes We Can" on November 4th. Besides, it's not like he's going cross-country with Obama, holding hands with Hillary and drinking PBR with 'old regular' Joe Biden laughing at Sarah Palin. He has not turned in his Republican stripes of honor. Not yet, but just maybe.. we can hope he'll see the Democratic light. :-)

Speaking of Palin, was it just me or did that whole Saturday Night Live appearance just seem really flat? The only time I got interested was hoping she'd mess up the entire thing. I mean, I was on the edge of my chair, white-knuckled and rooting for crash and burn. Instead, I got this lackluster 'thing', where in the one moment she had to truly shine, make light of herself and her ~~geriatric~~ experienced running mate and be extraordinarily funny as a result, she passed it off to poor, pregnant and wobbling comedianne Amy Poehler. Watch, if you haven't seen it yet here. Personally, I'd have been laughing my a** off if she just went on and did the rap herself, and she probably would have gotten some ~~votes~~ respect from young people because of it. We all know it's in jest, and in good fun...but I guess after talking to Gramps John McCain, she opted against it. Shows who's wearing the pants in that relationship!! LOL!

Instead she played the straight guy to all the jokes and was called a ~~thoughtless little pig~~ horrible woman by Alec "I take out my drama with my ex-wife on my kid named after a country in turmoil" Baldwin. The best comeback she has is that his brother Stephen, an ~~nut~~ ~~laughingstock~~ ~~idiot~~ actor in his own right, was her favorite Baldwin. I'm sure Alec cried on his pillow all night long for that one. Oh, and Mark Wahlberg didn't even acknowledge her standing there! No, "Hey Tina" or "Hey lady, say hi to your mother for me." NOTHING. Even Lorne Michaels barely looked at her. Funny times. It'd have been the same show had she not been there, mainly because she was ~~too much of a coward~~ uncertain to rap a little. She sure was nodding in agreement to the rap, so she should have just done it. My advice, JUST DO IT! Barack would have...maybe. But then again, he wouldn't have had to. He's got flow and can dunk.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

Is It Just Me Or...?

2008-10-15T20:47:00.001-05:00

Hey,

Is it just me or is McCain whining during this debate? I'm blogging as the debate is going, mainly because my best friend Kevin called me and was sobbing on the phone. I was so worried about him that I paused the debate (yes, I have TiVo) and talked to him. I thought something terrible had happened, it turned out he was making fun of John McCain. Kudos to Barack for standing up to him and his "wahh wahh" and "John Lewis said this..." and basically saying that they'd never agree, so just to move on from it.

Back to the debate...I'll be blogging about today's MisAdventure shortly..

*Ashley Robin*

New Business

2008-10-13T22:50:00.001-05:00

Hey,

So I've been busy getting my law school application research process on and I have not had enough time to post. In the research process, I was able to obtain materials from at least 50-60 different law schools all across the country. However, my fabulous best friend (also known as Mom) is helping me sort through all of them. With her help, I'm building a list of those to apply, and now have to start work on the ever-influential personal statement. If you've ever written one, please help! I need some kind of formula to do it and there seems to be none.

But thanks to a friend, I've been able to create an online store, check it out here, so people can buy the musings that I've always wanted on tee shirts. The store will grow, and hopefully the money will grow. Most of it is going toward the trip to Europe. So if you want to support me, but want to feel as if you've not just given away something for nothing...buy a shirt or mousepad or hat. Keep checking it, because it will grow as I get better and quicker able to create shirt worthy slogans. The "InSane McCain" ones seem to be the most popular. My favorite is the green one. I'm getting one to put on my pillow.

Anyway, the ex Mr. Wonderful read the entire blog. In one day. He literally sat down and read the entire thing. I'm still tripping on it. He said that he was glad that I didn't write him up to be a complete asshole, and that it made him realize how much I loved him. He liked it, and some of the blogs that weren't about him, he thought were. Just goes to show you that some guys are still somewhat self-centered. Anyway, he's gotten a login here, so he can comment and even write posts. He said he's gonna write one, but we'll see. And he does love the nickname, Mr. Wonderful.

My other ex boyfriend is tripping. Big time. But that's an entry for later this week.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

Mourning an Unexpected Loss

2008-10-10T23:06:00.001-05:00

Hey,

Well...all losses are unexpected, and all losses are hard. I've lost a lot of people in my life, whether it have been my first love, my childhood friend, my biological mom, a good friend from college that I'd fallen out of touch with, a surrogate grandmother, and those are just the folks that died. Sometimes we lose people without them actually dying, just by simply losing touch. In the world of cell phones and email, it's hard to lose track of people as we move and migrate through our lives.

Today, though, I found out that my best friend Kevin, the same one who is dealing with his own mortality via a battle with pancreatic cancer, has lost his grandmother. The ordinary relationship that a typical boy has with his grandmother is (based on my experience) full of something I call "living disdain". In that you love the person, but aren't exactly thrilled to be spending time with them, mainly because they are either unhip, boring or just not a person you'd choose to be around of your own free will.

Kevin and his grandmother, Grandma Eve (Evelyn), were always joined at the hip. Even as a little boy, he'd always talk about how cool she was, and how he always felt like he really was her son instead of his mom's. He looked forward to spending time with her every summer in California, and when he couldn't make it to her, she came to him. She even adopted me by being my grandmother, bringing me sushi lunches in high school, buying me purses and shoes, and kissing me just as much as she kissed Kevin, if not more so. When I was with the two of them, I never felt like I was the odd man out. She had the biggest laugh, always giggling with me and Kevin about something, and taking us both out to late-night movies and ice cream sundaes, even when we got older and no longer thought of those outings as the highlight of our week.

As Kevin grew up, she was there for him, from his highest moments to his less flattering and lowest moments, and she never once judged him or said a harsh word against him. When we were sitting in the hospital waiting to hear what the situation was when Kevin got shot in the stomach for messing with some gang dude's girlfriend, she just said, "It's Kevin. He does sh** like that." (He turned out to be very lucky and the bullet hit no vital organs, just cost him a three-day hospital stay and a week and a half of bed rest after that. Later that day, when I saw him first in his room, he told me he was scared of seeing his grandmother's 'mean face'. When he needed money to go to college, she sold her house and moved into a nice condo, putting the difference into an account in Kevin's name, which he used to pay for his education. When Kevin got sick, she was there for him even more than his own mother was, stepping into the role of guardian on more than one occasion, and talking with the doctors about his treatment. She offered her home to him, and he accepted, knowing that he'd be taken care of, and not babied, and that his grandmother would have his back, 100 percent of the time. She'd often refer to him as her baby, and me as her adopted granddaughter. Later, she'd call me her granddaughter, and drop the word "adopted".

Today, I found out that she has passed away. She wanted to not outlive her eldest grandson, and in a twisted way, she got her wish. We don't know exactly what happened, but it appears that she succumbed to a household accident. I don't want to go into specifics, but it was not something that could be attributed to suicide. Kevin's father, Eve's ex-son-in-law, found her while Kevin was at our friend's house 2 hours away. He was the one to tell him of her death, and I am thankful that he was there to be a boulder of support for him. It is a sad day indeed.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

PS: My ex-boyfriend, Mr. Wonderful, found out about the blog and has told me of his intent to read it from beginning to end. I'm not quite sure how to feel about it, since the beginning of it, and a good portion since, has a lot to do with him and is about him.

Living The Pollo-Pescetarianistic Life

2008-10-09T12:28:00.000-05:00

Hey,

So I've always been a finicky eater. I don't like to eat too much red meat because it makes my heart race, my tummy hurt and my head aches as a result. A while ago, I decided to eat fish, chicken and my veggies. In talking to a good friend of mine, who is a strict vegetarian, she told me I was a pollo-pescetarian. When I googled it, I found out a pescetarian is someone who is essentially a vegetarian, but who eats some fish. A pollotarian is someone who is a vegetarian but eats chicken. So I'm a pollo-pescetarian. Interesting things you learn when hanging with the vegetarian crowd.

As far as the marriage post, I've decided to cut things off with the married guy. I don't want to be accused of leading him on, or become some target by someone. It's not worth it. There are enough single guys in the world to keep me interested. Besides, I'm convinced I won't be meeting my Barack until I'm in law school. Until then, I'll indulge in my chicken, fish and veggies and work towards being a better me.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

The Sanctity of Marriage

2008-10-02T22:59:00.000-05:00

Hey,

So today's MisAdventure is about marriage. Better yet, the idea of purpose of it. Is it outdated, not needed or required in this age of technology?

A while ago, I was working as a waitress at a popular Hyde Park (Chicago neighborhood that is home to the University of Chicago) bar/hangout. In this bar, I was flirted with all the time. Old men, young men, married men, single men, even women. I admit that I used my feminine wiles to get more tips. You'd be surprised how much of a difference makeup makes when you're pushing ~~sex~~ burgers. A full face of makeup, along with a bare midriff would get me at least $120-$150 a night, where as the makeup without the bare belly would get me around $100. I never did rock anything short or low-cut, but girls that did made way more than that $150.

Some of the guys who came in were cute. Others were rich. Others were a bit of both and ugly. But most were ~~enslaved~~ married. Can you tell already that I've got a negative view on marriage? Most of the married men just admired my "taut body", "ample curves", etc. (The words in quotes were things I was told...seriously). One day in particular, a Sunday, I was waiting on a big group of male motorcycle enthusiasts. They were just a group of guys who ride around on their bikes together, as well as have fun on the weekends. Now, I'm a single girl. I am now, and I was then, so if I saw a guy who seemed nice enough, had a decent head on his shoulders and made me laugh, I'd give him the benefit of the doubt and talk with him. If he said things I liked, I'd give him my phone number. No harm in that.

One guy in particular was really attractive. He and I formed a relationship due to my interest in bikes, and when he took me to this place in the burbs to look at them, he tried to sneak a kiss on me. We ended up hanging out a lot over the course of a few months, and I found myself really liking my company. He was funny, kind, considerate and as I found out later, married. I felt lied to, betrayed and used, but I knew the situation could be much worse. Even despite all that, he still wanted to see me.

I talked to my mom about it, since she'd met him (meeting my mom is not the big deal it can be with people) and started to ask me about how he was doing. When I confessed to being involved with a married man, my mom asked me how I found out he was married. That, in itself, was a story.

Basically, we went out to go to the zoo and then get a sundae one afternoon, and I'd brought my four year old cousin with me. He had her in his arms, and we all were having a great time. And my little cousin doesn't like anyone she doesn't know touching her. So, when he picked her up and she was okay with it, I started thinking, "Could I really date this guy?". When I asked him about his ability to connect with kids, he said it was because he'd had a kid of his own. This was no news to me, because I knew he had kids, but after I asked the question, he got quiet. The vibe of the entire outing changed. After he dropped me off, he and I didn't speak for a few days. When we did speak, we had a conversation that went a little something like this:

Him: So there's something I need to talk to you about.

Me: What's up [name], you can talk to me about whatever.

Him: Well, let me just say that I really like you, and I'm enjoying myself with you. I see a future for us.

Me: A future? Isn't it a bit early to have the whole 'possibility of a relationship conversation"?

Him: Well, yes...but this isn't that conversation.

Me: What conversation is this one, then?

Him: This is the conversation where I drop a bomb on you, and hopefully you understand, forgive me and we move on.

Me: Okay, so what is this bomb? (Preparing myself to faint, scream, yell, or kill, depending on the bomb)

Him: When I told you before that I had kids, I should have told you I had something else.

Me: Something else...do you mean like an STD?

Him: No, I have a wife. I'm married.

Me: *DEAD*

So this situation has made me skeptical of marriage. The idea, the dream, the preciousness (if that's a word), and the importance of it. I hate to say it, but I still talk to the guy. No, not in a dating fashion or even a sexual fashion, but we do talk every now and then. Does it make me the bad guy because I briefly dated a married man? True, I didn't know it, but then again, I wasn't paying attention. Ignorance is no excuse, I know. But it made me laugh at the idea of marriage. Before this experience, I wanted to get married, pop out some kids and honor and love my husband all the day of my life. Before, I was looking forward to getting married, having a future and living my life with someone as a young person and then sit on the porch of our home and grow old with them, surrounded by our children and grandchildren. Now, I'm simply afraid that I'd end up like [name]'s wife, and wind up with a husband who has feelings for another woman.

You could argue that he was just lying about having feelings because he wanted to get into my pants. But, since that never happened, and most of the time we ended up just having really in-depth conversations about things, you'd be hard pressed to feel that the relationship was sexually based. I've always felt that creating a mental connection with someone is a deeper violation than any physical thing, because it takes more brain power and genuine interest to connect with someone emotionally and mentally than it does physically. So, in theory, if my husband were bonding with another woman on the mental level, I would be more upset than if he slept with her, because the mental connection means there is a mutual interest in making a connection deeper than the simple "bang".

Why do I feel that way based on that experience? Well, here is a man, a seemingly great guy, who is a father, employed, and yet, he's desiring another woman. So much that he would deny his marriage, and then when he started to grow feelings (which he did), the guilt got to him and he admitted his true relationship status. No, I never "closed the deal" with the guy, but I could have. I don't know what I would have done if I had, or how I'd have felt. And realistically, I'm single (and I thought he was too), so it is realistic to think that it could have happened.

Why So Single?

2008-09-27T12:26:00.001-05:00

Hey Everyone,

I'm a little hung over from celebrating Senator Barack Obama's first Presidential Debate. I'm one of the people who believe that he not only was able to articulate his strong points to the American people over Senator John McCain, but also that he was able to fully articulate the differences between himself and McCain in a courteous, witty and intelligent manner. However, that is not what this entry is about.

A friend of mine recently wrote a blog post entitled "Why Did I Stay Single?" In the entry, he's basically asking why, you guessed, he stayed single all these years. For all intent and purposes, he's a smart, funny, caring and a real sweetheart. However, he feels because he's not drop dead gorgeous, more focused on the diaspora than diamonds and is a bit of a professed nerd that he gets no love from the ladies. (For the whole thing, you can read it here.)

My friend's entry has me wondering about the love, or lack thereof that the average guy gets from the ladies. Not the handsome types or the rich types or even the "think they are rich" types, but the average guy working a regular wage job, a man who saves a good portion of his check, who drives a used car and is not one to blow his money on material things. How does he line up against a blinged-out, tricked out material based guy. Is it more important to be about something or to have something around your neck?

Well, the answer has to be in direct relation to the kind of girl you want to attract and possibly be with. Too many men I know are looking for beauty and no brain, for style and no substance. It is no surprise that plastic will attract plastic. My point is, find someone with a strong self-worth, who can say an intelligent word or two and not focus on looks. Hygiene, yes. Halle Berry curves, no. Maybe if men don't set themselves up for rejection or even just look for a "model chick", they'd be able to see the pleasure in dating a "real chick" who may not be as gorgeous, but have much more interesting things happening in her brain.

*Real chicks are not ugly. Many in fact are beautiful but overlooked for all the plastic people. Also, not all attractive women are plastic. I am a prime example, along with many others that I know.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

Kickin It and Doing the Damn Thing

2008-09-24T18:41:00.000-05:00

Hey,

I have been doing the low profile thing for a minute. But today, I decided to go out and handle some business that I'd been putting off forever (don't you hate that), and I just was thinking in terms of myself in relation to the rest of the world.

I realized that even if one person is bummed, depressed, afraid, upset, angry, etc..the world still goes on. I guess I felt like my life was a movie, I was the star, my friends and family were all supporting characters and the random people I encountered everyday and didn't make any kind of connection with were extras. People I knew, but weren't around as much as my friends and family simply made cameos. So, I finally realized that's quite a self-centered way to think. It's more about not letting circumstances cripple you so that you can enjoy your movie, whether you are the focus of it or not. I'd been in the house a little bit too much, mainly because I'm just in that mood...but I guess in some weird way, I felt like the world would have stopped. I guess it makes me feel kinda small, but also urges me to not get into the moods where I want to stay inside more, mainly because I will feel as if I've truly missed something.

So, in my adventures in being local, I think I've made progress in trying to get my kitten Samantha trained. Training a cat is difficult, let me just say. If the cat is stubborn, like how both she and my older cat, Hugh Laurie, are, it is even more difficult. But because I stuck with it, she's just as smart as Hugh was at her age, if not smarter. I've also been doing a lot of reading, with these LSAT books and researching the classes, and all that FUN stuff.

I wish I could go into detail about everything currently happening to me, but I can't. For the first time in my life, I feel a little stifled. It's weird, because no one or nothing has ever gotten me to the point where I felt like I couldn't talk. And now I am. But I digress.

My question for the people who are reading is this-

At what point do you let the things that invigorate your life, and make you what you want to be, isolate you from the aims and focuses of the everyday?

Just a question

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

Seeing the World in Technicolor

2008-09-20T16:12:00.000-05:00

Hey,

I've been M.I.A. for a couple of days, just because a lot has been going on. Life is a bit of a whirlwind right now, what can I say. I feel like my view of the world is much more optimistic than other people's. Yes, that may be naive of me, but who cares? I see the glass as half full, and I believe that things can and will get better.

This economy is f**ked up...almost to all hell. Thanks to Georgie Bush, we're in a war that most of us don't agree with, people are dying everyday, and 60,000 people a week are losing their homes. Now, John InSane said that that number is so high because these people got into mortgages that they could not afford. I got a wake up call for his ass....my mother is in the mortgage industry. She's been in that industry for fourteen years...and I asked her opinion about it. She says that in order to even determine a mortgage payment for a potential buyer, you have to take 33% of their income and use that as a barometer of what they could pay each month. This number is 33%, simply because they figure the average person uses 2/3rds of their income to pay bills, survive and save. Also the future homeowner also has to have very little exorbitant debt, because otherwise their ratios would be off and they'd be unable to pay. She thinks it's unfair of InSane to assume that all these people just jumped into expensive mortgages, but instead to ask the mortgage professional that prepared their loan if they set these people up. Option ARMs are not permanent, and some people forgot that. Others lost their jobs and couldn't afford their mortgage or any other bill. It was sad and terrible to see.

But I believe it will get better. I know it looks bleak, but I know that all the economists will get together and get a credible solution going. I also believe once the Iraqi war ends, it will provide us with a reprieve, that companies will come back to the United States and people will have faith in the American dollar and it will be strong. It will take hard work, belt pinching and some fiscal conservation, but it will happen. So have faith.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

Why Do I Over Think the Smallest of Things?

2008-09-14T22:04:00.000-05:00

So I started this blog with the idea that I'd share my most inner thoughts and try as little as I could to censor myself. However, along the way, I found that it be best that I not put people's names out there, as well as myself, for the sake of having some privacy just in case someone off the street walked up to me and started asking me about my postings.

Weirdly though, that has happened, especially when I posted about my ex saving me from the hands of two would-be rapists. But I digress.

I've decided to just go back to my original plan and let things fall where they may. Who cares, life is too short?! So, with that, I delve into my latest MisAdventure.

I am celibate. Yes, I said it, and no I'm not lying. A long time ago, back in my Washington DC days, I was okay with having sex outside of a relationship, and was okay with the idea of having more than one partner a year. Some people aren't, and considered that slutty, and I pretty much told them to go to hell. Literally and figuratively, I said it. I drank at parties, had a good time, always was at a party or going out on a date, and if I wanted to sleep with a guy, I did. I never had an issue with sex, did not consider myself to be conservative and enjoyed my lifestyle. Just as a side note, I've always believed in protection and safe sex, and have never had an STD. Nor have I been in any situation where I found myself loathing my annual gynecologist visit, awkwardly waiting any test results. No shockers in that department.

However, I wasn't sure I liked that person. She was a bit too unfocused on school, a bit too vivacious and liked to spend her nights drinking and partying, her mornings in the bed and drinking tea to calm down her headaches rather than go to class. But the grades never suffered. Both she and I knew that failure was unacceptable, and anything below a B was a problem. It was a strain being both her and me at the same time, because it was draining me physically, mentally and emotionally, so I decided to let the party girl go, and I have to admit, it was really hard to say goodbye to her. She was fun. But she was keeping me from achieving my goals. In letting her (the party girl) go, I embraced my inner nerd.

But, in the process of letting the party girl go, in 2004, I decided to become celibate. Well, I broke that a few times when I was in relationships, but outside of those, I would not have sex. However, I didn't realize that abstaining from sex would be so difficult. Not for me, but for those around me. Men who I knew as friends revealed their desire to sleep with me, men I dated wanted to sleep with me, women I knew didn't believe I actually was celibate, my celibacy made them feel like whores, and I was cursed out, along with their opinion of me going downhill, mainly because they figured I was lying about it or they chose to push me down to feel better about themselves Who knows? But I know that I have no reason to lie about having sex, about my lack of a sex life, especially to anyone else. I don't need that much praise from anyone. I've thought often about breaking the celibacy vow just because of the drama that having it entails. I even got close to doing it. Then I realized that I'd be breaking the vow to appease others, and I realized that was wrong. Plus, the guy was a dick. So, I am happy to say that I did not go through with it.

My over-thinking comes with the fact that I am stressing over this decision to be celibate. I'm not going to be such forever, just until I get the right feeling about the right guy, whether that be on the wedding altar or on the seventh date. I don't know why I think so much about it, but I do. It seriously keeps me up nights. I had a dream that some guy was trying to deflower me, and I woke up in a cold sweat. So why am I over thinking this? Is it because I feel like I'm not sure in my decision? Or just that I'm second guessing it because I made the promise/vow for the wrong reason, just to prove to myself that I could?

(To purchase the "Embrace Celibacy" tank pictured above, click here.)

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

The New Goal

2008-09-12T00:08:00.000-05:00

Hey,

Just wanted to say hi, and give a few updates on stuff. Nothing too elaborate today, my head is pounding, I think my cat is sick and I've gotta get up in the morning.

1- My male BFF Kevin is so much better now. Against all odds, he's still here, and he managed to walk out of the hospice they'd put him in after he was basically in a drug-induced coma to reduce his pain. The hospice stay was 3 weeks, he woke up after the first week and immediately wanted to leave. He worked towards it and made that a goal, and he did it. Immediately after leaving, he went to a holistic doctor, and fasted for 3 weeks to get all the toxins out of his body, eating only small organic dishes on the weekends, and drinking only organic juice and water during the week. I haven't seen him, he's still in California, but from the phone I know his voice sounds stronger and he sounds more rested. He has yet to go see a doctor, but when he does, I am hoping the prognosis is good. For all purposes, it is a miracle.

2-I've put up a "Donate" button on the right side of the blog. It's for my trip to Europe after my graduation in May of 2009. I've always wanted to go, and I figure asking for donations, the worse thing that will happen is that no one will contribute. If you have a buck or two that you wouldn't mind sharing, hook me up. The money's going into an account that I'm setting up to save for the trip, and whatever you contribute will be greatly appreciated.

3- I'll be doing my radio show Saturday night, discussing one of my favorite topics, RELATIONSHIPS, (haha) from 7 to 9pm, and I'm going to try to blog as I do it. We'll see how well it works. If you are interested in listening, click here. Follow the prompts on the website, under the "Listen Live" area. If you have a question, you can ask it in the comments or email me here if you want your comment to be more private.

Take care and I, as always, want your thoughts...

*Ashley Robin*

The 'Things I Don't Like' List

2008-09-08T21:16:00.000-05:00

Hey Everyone,

So I've been asked to write my first list. It's a list of things I don't like. I'm doing it totally off the cuff and with no real thought to it, to keep it as random and honest as possible. Here goes.

1-Bad breath. Seems simple enough, but the smell of rotting meat makes me vomit, even moreso if it is coming from someone's mouth.

2-John InSain. He's old, he's a liar, and he's Republican.

3-Talking on the phone. Usually most people who call me have no real point to the conversation, and unless I really like you, I try not to stay on the phone too long. Maybe that'll change when I get a bluetooth.

4-Beans. I hate beans because they remind me too much of the pods from Invasion of the Body Snatchers. That, and most people get really gassy after eating them..which is not cool.

5-Hypocrites. If you are say something, mean it. If you don't, then don't say it. I'll beat a hypocrite up real quick.

6-Thieves. I'm still looking for the person who stole my bike, vandalized my car and tried to snatch my mom's purse. If I even get a gut feeling that they are around, I'm going to snap.

7-Bible Thumpers. While I'm all for religion, and I am happy for you if you love it, but do not force me to drink the kool-aid.

8-Polls. No one has ever called me to ask me my opinion on anything but what alcohol I like to drink, or what clubs I go to...nothing substantial. Therefore, I tend not to believe a single one.

9-Telemarketers. I HATE them! They always call on some bull, they don't understand no, and now they want to start leaving messages on voicemail! GOD!

10-The black guy in the Head-On ads. I don't know why, he just freaks me out.

11-Send offs. Everyone has been sent off at least once, whether by a friend, relative, potential significant other, period. It's just as bad as being a hypocrite, though.

12-Internet stalkers. People who literally sign on just to see if you're online, then send you messages of randomness for hours, even when you tell them you're busy.

13-The below song/video. I can't stand it! It irritates me to the point of vomiting. On myself.
The artist looks like a Boogie Bear, and is no one's Mack. Sorry.

14- Police. Enough said.

15- People getting donations for moral causes. I don't like them because if you're broke, it's just unacceptable to them. They will sit and tell you that you are a shitty person, just because you can't afford to give them the $200 donation that they're asking for. Dude, I live in Englewood, one of the lowest-income neighborhoods in Chicago. Do some damn geo-tracking before you call me, and please assume that I'm broke!

16- My dad. I love my dad, but I don't like him much. Why? Because he's too much like me and I'm an asshole. So just imagine a 79 year old, 6'1 retired Jamaican who is an asshole. With a potty mouth. Yep, not too popular.

17- Chicago State University. I go there, but I am starting to detest that school. Enough that, I probably will become one of many alumni who don't go back or give back. Terrible, I know, but I don't want any more nightmares.

18- Cilantro and Oregano. Cilantro tastes like soap and Oregano like pencil lead. Put any near my food and you will get slapped, and QUICK.

19- Superstitious people. I walk under ladders, I own a black cat, I've broken a mirror or two and I step on cracks. My mom's back isn't broken, and I've yet to have bad luck. Wait, I got into a car accident, fractured my wrist, almost got assaulted...ok, let's move on.

20- Lames that try to be cool. If you're lame, be lame. Don't try to be cool, because all it means is that you're even more lame. I admit wholeheartedly that I can be the biggest dork, but I'm me. I don't deny my dorky-ness or my corny jokes. It's just me, and that's who I want everyone else to be...100 percent, who they are.

Thoughts? Send me your list...

*Ashley Robin*

Adventures of Life on Bang Bang Row

2008-09-06T22:05:00.000-05:00

Hey Everyone,

Now, people who read this blog know that I am a transplant from New York. Not the state, the country or township in England, but the city. I'm from the Southside of Jamaica, Queens. For those not sure where that is, just listen to any song from 50 cent's first album, Get Rich or Die Trying. He, along with another Southside Jamaica native and my favorite rapper, Nas, discuss what life is like there. It's gritty, people are cool to you if they know you, and tend to keep an eye out on their own. Growing up there was like growing up back in the day, all the kids played together, everyone ate at everyone's house and all the kids would hang outside playing tag or riding bikes until the streetlights came on. Now, by no means am I saying it was perfect, but the little block club, five whole blocks full of people both on and off welfare, of Blacks, Dominicans, Mexicans, Puerto Ricans, Chinese and Koreans. I grew up as a racial mutt, not sure where I belonged, and I was accepted by these people wholeheartedly. The area, full of bodegas, allowed all these people of different backgrounds mix and learn from one another. I would eat at old Mrs. Liu's house twice a week, and go to Mr. Riaz's house for lunch. All the kids knew everyone, and all the adults looked out for us, whether they had kids or not. Mr. and Mrs Hiu threw the best Halloween parties, transforming their house into a lavish haunted house with creatures, decorations, and all kinds of scary things that made all the kids scared and we all looked forward to seeing what was different from the year before. Chinese New Year dinners with them were literally amazing, lavish feasts with decorations, all kinds of food and laughs. My mom made the best fried chicken at the neighborhood potluck, and everyone always tried to come to our house for Thanksgiving. Granted, this was the early 90's, in the era of New Jack Swing, but still not that long ago. Amazing how things have changed.

Later on in my childhood, after my parents pretty much decided they couldn't be in a room with one another without trying to kill the other or just be evil to everyone around, including me, I hung out at my dad's place. Later, I would go to stay with my dad for the summers and then full-time for a little while. My father, also lived in Jamaica, but in a neighborhood called St. Albans, about 10 minutes west of my mother's home. St. Albans is like the Beverly community in Chicago, full of sprawling homes on smaller residential streets and little shops on main thoroughfares, but far enough away from the commercial aspect to be annoying. Whenever I'm there, in that neighborhood, I forget the hustle and bustle of regular New York, and almost feel as if I'm somewhere else. The neighborhood has a great history and interesting habitants, like Miles Davis and John Coltrane. To read more about it, go here. (Ironically, my father is listed as one of its prominent residents). In short, it ain't the Southside of Jamaica. People there are warm and open, kids play together in a nearby park and hang out on someone's large porch until the ice truck came. The kind of neighborhood where you could open a lemonade stand and have water fights. These two places are the places of my prepubescent youth, and I look back on them with fondness and reverie. I miss those days, and often wonder what kind of girl I'd have been if I stayed there. Despite the fact that me and my father don't get along too well, I think I may have been as well rounded as a person could humanly be. Even though I know I'm still a fairly well-rounded individual even with my Chicago/NYC upbringing.

When I came to Chicago with my mom, we lived in Hyde Park. Now, back then, Hyde Park was not the home of muggings, assaults, murders and rapes that it is today, but basically a neighborhood full of students, older folks, young business people and kids. It wasn't Southside Jamaica, for the lack of crime and sadly for the lack of community. I never felt like I knew any of my neighbors, would never dream of opening a lemonade stand, and always got weird looks from the other kids. Maybe it was because I talked funny. [The NY accent I had until I was about 12 or so, I worked on getting rid of it by watching a lot of CLTV]. Anyway, while I was friends with kids in the Hyde Park area, I never felt truly at home, but I did feel safe.

When I returned home from DC, Mom and I lived on the outskirts of Hyde Park, in Woodlawn. While not as name-brand as living in Hyde Park was, and while the neighborhood had no real sense of community, and the occasional shooting or drug transaction a block or so over from where we lived, but with the Chicago Police and the University of Chicago Police constantly on patrol, I felt safe.

However, our building in Woodlawn went condo, so the owners told us we could move to where we currently live while the unit was rehabbed and updated, and to this day, I regret taking them up on it. We moved from our place in Woodlawn to drum roll... Englewood! Now, if you are from Chicago, you know that Englewood is the hood. Straight up, no jokes. There's probably a fight or an argument of some kind every night, and people sell drugs on our corner. Now, I've never been harassed or asked to buy crack, anything like that, but gunshots are something that I hear more than I'd like to, and they truly unnerve me.

The police seems to be cracking down on a lot of the mess, but one of my guy friends happens to call my block "Bang Bang Row", which I have used lovingly as the title of this blog. My neighborhood is full of people who don't work, and rely on the state for benefits, people who are students at Hustling University, and who seem to have no real ambition or desire to change that. There are gangs, drug dealers and prostitutes here, not in front of my house, but a block or so away. Close enough to be real to me, real like ever before. Now that's not to say my block is bad because people still party, sit on their stoops and people watch all day, but the negative stuff usually has me going inside just before dark. (The man in the Drug Dealer shirt is not a real drug dealer, but Toure, and the tee is part of the Keep a Child Alive project towards helping children with AIDS in Africa. Just so everyone knows that I don't promote drug or drug dealing. For more info, or to get the tee, click here.)

Part of me wonders, from my year of living here, why it is that blacks have to war with each other in trying to hustle? I figure there's enough people addicted to crack for everyone to get a piece of the pie not that I endorse illegal activity to get money, but that like most business models, it is simply a case of supply and demand. Enough people demand drugs, so that enough people should supply it. Also, this thing with gangs...why is it so important to kill someone who belongs to another gang? I can remember back in the day if you had a beef with someone, you fought them with your fists in the street until someone either quit, someone broke it up, or you both got so tired you couldn't even remember why the fight started. Now, we have to worry about people carrying knives, brass knuckles, a taser or stun gun, pepper spray or at the worst, a gun. Seems that a coward carries a gun, where a true man, like most of these "bangers" claim to be, uses his fists and mere mental intimidation to get his point across. What happened to those days? Did technology increase our distance from one another so bad, that even when we want to kill each other, we can just defer to a piece of metal?

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

Let's Be Straight Up For Once! I am...

2008-09-03T23:55:00.000-05:00

Hey,

I've decided that I'm not gonna sit on my blog and lie about what my intentions are in terms of dating and mate searching. I want a guy who is willing and who wants to take care of me. There, I said it. And before everyone gets all up in arms about me being a girl digging for gold, giving me money is NOT what I mean.

Wu-Tang said it best, "Cash rules everything around me/C.R.E.A.M. get the money/dolla dolla bills y'all"

I am not a gold-digger. I do not need someone to take care of me to the point where my life style changes, or that I'm dependent on a guy. When I say I want someone to take care of me, I mean that essentially chivalry, the very idea that my parents raised me on, is dead. I want to revive it, not only for myself, but for all the women of the world. When I say I want someone to take care of me, I mean that I want someone that knows more chance than not I won't be able to pay the bill if we go to some lavish place because of my school status so he'd not mind paying for me if necessary. He'd rub my feet after a hard day, to know when to bring me dragon maki rolls if I'm feeling down, to get me a Red Bull if I am on the verge of an all nighter, to open doors for me, to tell me I'm beautiful when my nose is red from blowing it, that I'm sexy when I'm bloated and that my worries are his. I guess I want a partner more than a boyfriend. That's what I mean when I say take care of me. Maybe that's too much for dating nowadays, but there are glimmers of hope.

Today's MisAdventure is about this need that women say they have for a man with money. I was talking to a group of friends and I'm not going to say who, but pretty much all of them were saying that they needed a man to have money. When I asked what that means, they all looked at me as if I was speaking some language they did not understand. I asked again, "What does that mean?". Basically, I was informed that a man with money is needed because these women like "nice sh*t". But my question is, what are you bringing to the table? If a man is good looking, has a job, a car, a place and has money....he's bringing the "A" game. If you're struggling, just in school with no job, and staying at the parent's house while borrowing their car to get to and fro...what do you bring? Don't get it twisted, I'm all for a guy bringing things to the table, but let's be sure that you aren't just selling yourself to the highest bidder. It disgusts me that the world has become so focused on material, that they ignore substance. More worried about Benjamins instead of IQ points. Sad, sad, sad.

So, of course when I voiced that opinion, I was bullied and pretty much kicked out of the conversation...because I believe that relationships should start on equal footing. That the things that are lacking from one partner should be compensated by the other, and so forth.

But conversely, I have to ask the question: Why are we as women afraid to demand what we want, and follow it? Why are we lowering our standards for the benefit of a relationship? What does that prove? It only allows more opportunity for heartbreak, emotional turmoil and DRAMA. Bitter feelings, ill will, resentment, all that can be a factor when settling in a relationship. However, in the world, how do we know if we are settling? How do we know if someone is not our equal? In my experience, I've tried to follow my gut and my instinct. I've tried to be as honest and open about what I want in a partner, and maybe that's why I'm single. Maybe my needs, and the needs of other women are so high...that we end up alone. Temporarily or permanently, but it will be and is by choice.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

Even more "dramatical" things happening

2008-09-01T23:45:00.000-05:00

Hello Everyone,

So since I blogged last, I just wanted to let you know that this Palin-gate mess is starting to come to a huge head, as in it's getting better by the second. I couldn't have anticipated this whole election process better if it was a piece of fiction. After the whole "Whose Baby is it?" fiasco, which brings up a couple of questions that I'll address, there's also Trooper-gate and charges of abuse of power and corruption, which I'll also address, there's the question of the LIE that was told. Reports are saying Governor Palin misled, I'll just go on and say it, the b**ch straight up lied! (And when I say b**ch, I don't mean it in the disrespectful way, but the other way, and that will be the subject of an upcoming blog.)

Tonight, along with the coverage of Hurricane Gustav, I watched as the drama unfolded, via CNN and MSNBC, and there are three charges against Republican Party Presumptive Nominee Senator John McCain's Vice Presidential candidate, Sarah Palin, Governor of Alaska. After I watched, I processed the information, did a bit of research to confirm and wanted to blog right away, just so that I didn't forget it later. So, yet again, for all those who ask me, and there are enough, whether via email, facebook or myspace message or text, is the breakdown.

The first problem is Babygate, also known as the "Who's the Baby Mama?" drama. While there is a little less controversy surrounding the younger child, Trig, who suffers from Down's Syndrome, because of the Governor's statement that he is in fact her child and not the child of her eldest daughter, Bristol. The controversy is now with the fact that Bristol is actually five months pregnant. The Governor did not disclose that to the public before or immediately after accepting the appointment to McCain's campaign. They say she disclosed it to Senator McCain when he asked her to be his VP, but not to the national media. However, when the story was first made public, an aide for Senator McCain said that the her was not aware of the pregnancy. They later, I assume because they did not want McCain to look like an even bigger idiot, "renounced" that statement, saying that aide misspoke, and that McCain was fully aware of the pregnancy and felt it had no impact on his choice. Personally, I have to call bulls**t on that one, because the girl was always seen holding the baby in front of her with a huge blanket in between her and the child. She was hiding that baby, and trying to hide it from McCain as well as everyone else. Now, Palin may have told him before she released a statement to the media, but he didn't know that girl was pregnant. He can deny that all he wants, but I know he didn't, because I believe he would not have picked her to be his VP if he had. Simply put, he did not want any one with any dirt on his ticket because the campaign would have to spend far too much time justifying it, and with less than 70 days to the election, time is of the essence.

The second problem is Troopergate, which is probably the biggest of them all. Why? If proven, it proves that the Governor has a serious problem with honoring the moral and ethical standards of her office as Governor, will affect her credibility with voters, will affect her ability to reassure donors and voters that she is ready to assume responsibility for one of the most powerful positions in American government, and that she is trustworthy and honest. What's Troopergate, you ask? Simply put, the allegations are that Governor Palin asked Alaska Public Safety Commissioner Walter Monegan to fire a state trooper. There's no problem with that, given certain circumstances, but in this case the trooper was Palin's former brother-in-law. He'd just divorced her sister. That was her sole cause for asking Monegan to fire this trooper. Monegan refused, so he was fired instead. Seems a little weird to me. To make the situation even worse, there seems to have been no background check done on Monegan's successor, because he, Chuck Koop, had allegations of sexual harassment to deal with. I'm not sure if I were Governor of any state, much less Alaska, that I would appoint someone Public Safety Commissioner (in charge of crime prevention and police, as well as the safety of the citizens) who had charges of sexual misconduct in his past.

This "Troopergate" is starting to come to a bit of head with the announcement of recorded phone calls and emails from the Governor's office to the office of Monegan. As a result, a formal investigation has been launched, and Palin has been appointed legal representation in the matter. This shows that she is not above using pressure and intimidation to get what she wants, and since she touts herself to be a 'champion of reform', proves to be nothing but a hypocrite. Hiding this matter as well, shows yet again that she is untrustworthy and dishonest. If she can lie to the less than one million people who reside in Alaska, she can easily lie to the hundreds of millions who live within the confines of the United States. After all, if you tell a lie a number of times, it starts and begins to feel as if it's the truth.

The third issue that is the most pressing is that of the LIE that was told. I consider something said once to be construed as misleading, but said more than once to be a lie. At the same speech where Senator McCain announced Palin as his running mate, she told an story about how she turned down an offer from Congress to build a "Bridge to Nowhere". In actuality, the bridge would have connected Gravinia Island in Alaska to Ketchikan International, an airport used by 200,000 people a year and therefore, one of Alaska's main entryways. Governor Palin said just Friday that she told Congress "Thanks, but no thanks." However, in actuality when she was asked if she would continue to allocate state funding for the building of [the same bridge], she replied differently. She said, "Yes, I would like to see Alaska's infrastructure projects built sooner than later. The window is now- while our congressional delegation is in a strong position to assist." Only later, when Congress felt the $@00 million dollar project was met with large disapproval, did Governor Palin start to backpedal and eventually, she canceled the project. She said at the time that they were about 330 million short of the full amount needed to complete the project, and since Congress would not share in the funding, that the project should be shelved if not abandoned altogether.

There is the additional issue, connected to the Babygate dramatics, that asks the question of parenting. If Palin does not believe in safe sex being taught in schools, only abstinence, and coming from Alaska, a state with extraordinarily high rates of STDs within its teen population, does she not see the fault now in not teaching her child about condom usage? And what kind of impact is this having on poor Bristol. I know if it were me, and everyone was blogging/talking/writing about my pregnancy that I probably had no idea how to handle, I'd be begging my mother to reconsider taking the shot at the Vice Presidency. I personally have to question the judgement of a mother who would leave behind a young infant (the Downs Syndrome diagnosis or not) as well as a young teenager who is dealing with her own lessons in maturity on the world stage, but also with being pregnant for the first (maybe) time. I know that when I am blessed with life growing inside me one day, I will be looking to my mother for support, not to be justifying my behavior to her friends, family and peers. I will want her to help me pick out strollers, and be there for me when I get weepy, not to shy me away from her and pretend as if it's some sort of problem that needs to be justified. We all make mistakes, and unfortunately this young girl has to live hers in the spotlight.

Honestly, this all leads to one result. Governor Palin should step aside, if she's not asked by McCain to do so in the next day or two. I only say that because they both have to be in hiding, and this is not the time to hide, not when they desperately need to be out amongst voters and attending to the affairs of the Republican Convention. CNN gave both Obama and McCain a chance to appear for a short interview on Anderson Cooper 360 to discuss the events surrounding Hurricane Gustav, and only Obama accepted. Cooper made it known that McCain was asked and turned it down. Why turn down publicity at this point of the game? Because there are too many secrets to hide, and this time they aren't McCain's. Besides, Palin needs to be a supportive and loving mother to both Bristol and Trig, and gain real experience. However, if I'm right, and I usually am, the aftermath of all this will leave her out of office after her first term and simply a flash in the pan. And maybe that's best.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

This Campaign Couldn't be Any More "Dramatical"

2008-09-01T16:27:00.000-05:00

Hey Everyone,

So this whole campaign is heating up and getting interesting, and quickly. Today's gaff or factoid is this whole "Whose Baby is It?" scandal involving newly appointed Vice Presidential Nominee, Governor Sarah Palin of Alaska. As you know, there was a lot of backlash and political commentary in her appointment by Senator John McCain as his running mate. The political pundits claimed her didn't know her well enough, that he had only spoken to her twice, that she was more or less picked for him, that his choice was Senator Joe Lieberman, as revealed on Sunday's edition of Meet The Press.

The first part of current controversy is the drama I like to call "Who's the Baby's Mama?" In this drama, there are three players, Governor Palin herself, her oldest daughter Bristol, and the baby, young Trig, who is currently 4 months old and suffers from Down's Syndrome. The baby, the youngest of five in the Palin clan, is supposed to be Governor Palin's youngest. However, when many Alaskian news sources reported the pregnancy announcement in which Governor Palin said she was seven months along, also commented that the governor "simply doesn't look pregnant". However, her daughter was removed from school, 6 months ago, due to having "mono". This would have been at the same time as the announcement and she had taken pictures for Vogue magazine two months before. Do the math. Also, the actual birth events are unclear, because according to news reports, or rather what was revealed to the press, Governor Palin's water broke in Texas, and immediately after that she got onto a flight and flew to Alaska to have the baby. That's an eight-hour flight.

Now I don't know about you, because I've never had the experience of giving birth, but could you hold off on contractions for 8 hours? Much less, who in their right mind would let someone that close to labor aboard an aircraft, much less board one, whether it be a private plane or commercial flight? Not only could it cause an immediate health risk to the baby and the mother, but also because there could be complications in-air that flight staff could not and would not be trained to handle! I'm no doctor or veteran of childbirth, but that just makes no sense and I'm not buying it. However, journalists also admit that because Bristol was out of school and afflicted with 'mono', she was not in the public eye. So, some say that she could have easily given birth and her mother take the credibility for the baby. Personally, I don't know. I just am writing what I've heard.

The second part of the "Who's the Baby Mama?" controversy now lies with the fact that Bristol, Palin's 17 year old daughter who has been out of school 6 months, is now pregnant. Some say again, some say pregnant for the first time. Depends on who you ask. The conservatives are probably happy to know that this young girl will keep this baby, and has intentions to marry the father, BUT, I'm sure that many are thinking that being pregnant just shows that there are some severe parental skills lacking. Unplanned pregnancies happen, and some great people came from unplanned pregnancies. Senator Barack Obama and myself, are just two examples.

The bigger issue with the fact that this young girl is pregnant is not that she's going to have a baby, but that she is essentially having unprotected sex. Now, we know her mother (and probably her father too) do not believe in abortion in any shape or form. Not in the case of incest, rape, when the baby is a harm to the mother, when the pregnancy is ectopic and therefore a potential danger to the mother, or even when doctors recommend an abortion (in cases of severe damage to the quality of life, loss of limbs or body parts or genetic defects). We know this, because she's said it. However, does that mean that she's against practicing safe sex in the terms of obtaining STDs? Because let's face it, teens who live in small towns with not much to do, tend to have more sex than those who live in larger cities. Why? Because statistics show they are bored...and in these small towns have practically nothing to do except hang out and walk around. They can't buy alcohol, they can't go anywhere too far away (because the state is so spread out, most mail carriers have to fly to deliver mail to all their sites) and there's not enough decent amusement. Factor in the fact that Alaska is dark most of the time and cold and whammo, you have a sex-edemic on your hands. Studies also show that lots of sex means lots of STDs. Unprotected sex just makes that probability even worse. In order for some STDs to incubate in a body, you just need the right germ in the right place...no carrier required. Trust, I studied it this summer. I know.

As a result, some pundits are asking why Palin is continuing in the race with all this family drama going on and want her to consider not accepting the nomination at the Republican National Convention. Others wonder why, since she knew about all this before she was asked, did she even accept McCain's offer? If it were me, I'd never have dreamt about taking the position whether it was a losing one or a winning one, because it puts two innocent people under tremendous scrutiny, the young teen Bristol and the even younger baby Trig.

Thoughts?

*Ashley Robin*

Adventures in Dating in Chicago

2008-08-31T20:08:00.000-05:00

Hey,

So everyone is hitting me up on facebook, myspace, email, all confounded because they have no idea what to do as far as a date. In the previous blog, where you can skim here, I broke down the different types of dates, so that you don't try a first date activity on a romantic date. As I've also said, I live in Chicago, so some of my ideas will be Chicago based, but I will try to make them as universal as possible. With that, here are some of my ideas with the category it can fall into. If you try them, I'm pretty sure they'll succeed and get you serious cool points.

The idea of a date is to let someone into your head a little. If you show them the basic dinner/movie combo, while it works, it's boring. We have all done the dinner/movie date. There are ways to tweak that idea a little, a lot and eliminate it entirely. Here are some suggestions:

Instead of going to dinner, why not learn to cook a meal together? Places like Parties that Cook have options that give couples a chance to cook a menu from appetizer to dessert. However, you should not do this as a first date, because you need to know the person is interested in cooking. Also, it can be a little pricey, but there are cheaper alternatives. They also offer singles events, so you might learn a few recipes, then find a date there to share it with. This kind of date is perfect for second or third dates, because it allows you to get to know the other person and the activity allows for many goofy awkward moments, giving you both things to laugh about later. Google "date night cooking class (your city)" to find plenty of options, some that just teach one part of a meal, or the whole thing. It'll depend on you and your budget. Some are free, some charge small fees for the materials. If you google "cooking class (your city)" you can find less expensive options.

After cooking a meal and sharing it, why not park your car (or take the bus/train) in a neighborhood like Lincoln Park or Oak Park and walk around. All those calories will make you feel stuffed, and walking will get that bloated feeling out of you. I recommend anywhere full of interesting shops, people and cafes. After walking around for a while, you can get a drink (whether it is coffee or a shot of Patron) at any place that looks interesting. Open yourself up...the possibilities are endless.

For example, a city like NY, where parking is out of control, take the subway to the Lower East Side and try coffee at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe, one of my favorite hangouts when I'm in town. There's always someone on the mic with spoken word, and it is full of various types of folk, the yuppie, the internet blogger, the student, the hippie, the weedhead, the 'ignit' spectator, the next Miguel Pinero. (if you don't know who that is, look him up here).

Google "poetry cafe (your city)" to find a place near you that offers up poetry nights. You might go a step further and get on the microphone yourself...but I say go for it if you're brave. Don't do it just to impress your date, if its not genuine it'll more than likely backfire. This also can be done as an independent outing and even a first date if you know the other person likes poetry. However, do a little research and make sure the place is not so loud that you can't hear the other person if they say something. The last thing you want is to not talk to the person, especially on the first date.

Another good date idea is to take your date to a local museum, art exhibit, or aquarium. Chicago, and many other main cities have these. Chicago, and probably other cities, offers something called the CitiPass. The great thing about this CitiPass is that it is valid for nine days, offers admissions to five of the city's great tourist and museum attractions and is cheaper than trying to buy each ticket seperately. Read more about and even buy the CitiPass here. This can be a two or three day date, and will allow you both to learn more about the culture of the city and while it is 59 dollars, it is less expensive than trying to pay for all those places individually. The Pass also has discounts and maps to restaurants, shopping and other locations that can allow you to see the city with fresh eyes. To add another level of fun, pretend as if you are tourists and don't know your way around. You can ask for directions and maybe even get recommendations to places you'd never have visited unless you asked.

If you are looking for a more romantic idea, try taking a boat tour of the city of Chicago. Granted, some cities not on bodies of water are conducive to this idea, but in those cases, a train or city bus tour can work just as well. In the case of Chicago, check out Shoreline Sightseeing Cruises. These affordable boat tours of the city allow you to see Chicago in all its beauty, but also because of their docking at Navy Pier, allow you to enjoy the sights of that facility as well, including the perfect first kiss spot, on the famed Ferris Wheel. Shoreline offers sunset cruises, that also serve as a nice first kiss spot as well. They are one of many companies that dock at different sites within the city, so rest assured that there is no monopoly of the waters of Chicago. Wendella offers wine tastings in addition to their tours, and Chicagoline works with the Chicago History Museum for their background information on the buildings of Chicago. Prices can vary and depend on your budget, what you are looking for, and length of time on the boat.

If laughter is your thing, try going to a comedy show. Not the standard open mic night at the around the way comedy club, but a real comedy show. For under $15 per ticket, you can check out a show at the Improv Olympic Theater that will leave you in stitches. While it isn't an ideal first date activity, it is one that they probably won't forget. I've been to see Felt twice, and both times, I was very happy, and for $5, able to enjoy drinks at any of the local pubs after my show without feeling the burn in my pockets. It is a refreshing outing, something to create a good conversation after, and something to do any day of the week. For shows like Felt, try to buy your tickets in advance or arrive early, because they will sell out. This theater is one of many, but others are available. Don't be afraid to use google, citysearch or any other online resource to find a place you like if improv isn't your thing.

These are just some ideas to get the brain working and the mojo flowing! I have not been solicited by any of these companies to feature them in my blog, just using them as examples. Do not expect the "Ashley Robin" discount, because hey, there's isn't one. I just want love and life to happen naturally. Speaking of which, next week, I will be hosting an internet radio show from 7pm to 9pm (Central Time). Visit the link for the station here, then click "Listen Live" and be connected. I will try to blog as soon as I end the show, and will post the topic of what I'm talking about, as well as how to call in once I make up my mind as to what that topic will be and if I'll be asking for guests. As soon as I do, I'll post all that info here. I'm so excited to be back in the booth again!

*Ashley Robin*

PS- Big ups to one of my good friends since childhood, and fellow blogger, Zack, for featuring my blog as his "Spotlight Blog Roller". His blog can be found here, read it, it's refreshing, funny and honest. I read it all the time.

vote in 2008!

The Definition of the Types of Dates

2008-08-30T21:50:00.000-05:00

Hey All,

Okay, now that I've done my civic duty to discuss the world events, back to the less serious things that I seem to talk about in this blog. I got an email a few days ago from a blog reader asking me about date ideas, because as we all know, there are many more things to do other than the old dinner/movie combination. So, I sat down with my pen and pad and started to think. Since there are so many different facets to dating, I've broken down my ideas into sections. Take from which section that fits your goal/aim with the person. Since I reside in Chicago, any examples I use to elaborate on them will be based on Chicago. But before I give my date ideas, I figured I should use this blog to define the criteria in which I've classified them. The initials next to the type of date it is are those I will use in future reference.

First Date: FD

The first date is the date where you typically get to know someone. If you have not had a chance to get to know this person well enough to decide if you're attracted to them, then this date is the opportunity to do just that. Usually when I'm iffy about a person, I'll do the movie/dinner route, mainly because the movie is entertainment and having dinner after gives us something to talk about. However, while the movie/dinner, dinner/movie is very easy and can be fun, depending on both the movie and the company, it is the regular. Here are some of my suggestions to get to know someone at the introductory "I think I might like you but I'm not really sure yet" stage. Granted, there are different types of first dates, but these are specifically for those who maybe met their date through a friend and don't know them well.

Familiar Date: FAMD

Like first dates, but different in that the people know each other. Maybe they are friends, associates or work together. These dates can be just as awkward, if not more so than first dates, because if they go badly, unlike a date where the participants don't know each other, these two will be around each other again, because of their prior relationship. Unless they are friends and end it right there. (Which is not the desired result).

Second Date: SD

Obviously there was a first date and there was enough chemistry to warrant a second. Hopefully, there are feelings developing, but this date should want to amplify them. This date should be more casual than the first, but also allowing the people to connect on a deeper level.

Group Dates: GD

Not my personal favorite type of date, mainly because there are other people around, and if this is the first outing for anyone, there can be general awkwardness for everyone invovled. Bad group dates usually mean the people who know each other talk all through it, leaving the other two out of the conversation. If that happens, prepare for an excruciatingly boring evening.

Romantic Dates: RD

These are the dates you'd take if you want someone to make a move, such as taking things to the next step, physically. That may be a kiss or having sex, or anything in between. Usually occur somewhere between the third and the eighth date. I only say eighth because if the average couple goes on a date once a week, then after two months, if nothing physical has happened...it more than likely won't. If it's less than once a week, it DEFINITELY won't.

Short Term Relationship Dates: STRD

Dates for couples that are exclusive, but have not been together for more than a year. At that point in a relationship, there should still be some things you have not experienced, and memories are left to be created. There should be little to no problem in finding and creating passion, only just that there may be the feeling of being in a 'rut' because the people in the relationship feel as if their outings are the same things, over and over.

Long Term Relationship Dates: LTRD

Dates for couples that are exclusive, and have been together more than a year. Like most human connections, at this point love is in the equation or at least, a deep appreciation and respect. There may be problems in finding new ways to connect, and there may be ruts and other issues. The couple may or may not live together, creating a need for personal space. These dates should be a combination of romance, rekindling and reconnecting. If there are no problems, these dates are the chance for the couple to connect even further.

Who is Sarah Palin?

2008-08-30T12:10:00.000-05:00

Hey Everyone,

I'm deeply convinced that Barack Obama and Joe Biden have just won the 2008 Election. One of the reasons why, is on Friday, the day after Obama's speech in which he officially accepted the nomination to be the representative of the Democratic Party in the 2008 election for the Office of President of the United States of America, John McCain decided to name a woman pictured to the left as his vice presidential nominee. Her name is Sarah Palin, and she is the current Governor of Alaska. She is a staunch conservative, probably even more so than John McCain, and is said to be a maverick like McCain, and has taken on the oil companies and won. However, when examining her record, it is obvious she is not prepared to be Vice President, and if something were to befall a Senator McCain, become President. Some people are questioning the reasons why he chose the 44-year old Governor, whose experience is limited. Republicans argue that she has experience working as the Chairperson of the Alaska Oil and Gas Conservation Commission (which was only a one year term), and as Governor of Alaska, Mayor of Wasilla, Alaska and as a Council Member of Wasilla, Alaska. On paper, it sounds great, but when you break it down like I have, it means that the McCain/Palin campaign comes up short against an Obama/Biden ticket.

Here's the breakdown:

Wasilla, Alaska is a town about an hour away from Anchorage, Alaska (the largest city in the entire state), and has a current population (according to the city website) of 6,715. 85% of that town is white, 5% Native American. The entire town is about 12 miles big, and almost 1 mile of that is water. This is the very town that Governor Palin was elected mayor, twice, once in 1996 and again in 1999. Her political career actually started as a council member of this same town, and she came into that office in 1992, and served there until her first run for mayor in 1996.

The entire state budget for Alaska is 5 million dollars, whereas the state budget of Illinois, Barack Obama's home state, is about 65 BILLION! Delaware, Joe Biden's home state, has a budget of 28 BILLION! So, even Delaware's budget is 5600 times bigger than that of Alaska. Now granted, the senate only gets a piece of that budget, and the governor oversees all of it, but it is reasonable to assume that the part of the budget going to Obama and Biden is significantly larger than that of Palin's entire budget.

The other issue is the obvious idea behind McCain's choice...to appeal to the female conservative base, and those who want a woman on the ticket, specifically Hillary Clinton supporters. However, if you look at Palin's record, she is against abortion, even in cases of rape, incest or where the fetus could potenially harm the mother, and she is pro-gun rights. These are two staunch positions of the Republican party, and two areas that John McCain considers to be cornerstone positions of his "Pro-Life, Pro-Family" Republican Presidential ticket. Governor Sarah Palin is considered a strong nod to the social conservatives that are unsure about McCain. However, by adding her to his ticket, he can no longer make the argument about lack of experience that he has been saying for months, because despite Obama's lack of government tenure, 18 million plus people chose him over anyone else to lead the Democratic Party as its Presidential nominee regardless of his time in the Senate, whereas Sarah Palin was not the result of a vote, but simply the choice of one man: John McCain.

Another thing that seems to bother voters in my own research, is that Palin and McCain met only once before Friday's announcement, whereas Obama and Biden served together on the same Senate committee for years, and they also campaigned together for President, and again when Biden endorsed Obama. Palin and McCain barely know one another, unlike Obama and Biden, and while people do not expect candidates to be bosom buddies, but to at least know the location of the other's home...to be able to speak on the strength and witness of the person that they are campaigning with, and to be able to attest to their strengths and weaknesses.

A political commentator said that the Democrats had a great convention, and with this pick, they received an early Christmas present. We will find out in 66 days.

Fu*k Hillary and Bill Clinton!

2008-08-25T00:51:00.000-05:00

Hey,

Saturday was a great and terrible day for me and I'll tell you why. My morning started off like any other weekend morning, hanging with my mom, playing with my babies (the two cats) and watching CNN while drinking my tea. (Constant Comment with plenty of Silk Very Vanilla Soymilk, honey and a dash of lemon). I had predicted early on, as soon as Biden's name was mentioned as a possibly Vice Presidential Candidate, that he would not only be vetted, but that he would be the man Barack picked. My dark horse pick (or my long shot pick) was New Mexico Governor Bill Richardson, but I pretty much assumed it was Biden's time, partly in due to gut instinct and partly because of the fact that a guy like Biden, known for flapping his gums at reporters was very quiet. He's many things, but quiet is not one of them.

Later, before the official speech by Senator Obama to officially introduce Biden as his running mate, my best friend came over to hang out and talk about other things going on around us. However, partly into our conversation, the speech came on. While I felt it was a good speech, I felt that Obama should have been a bit more bulldogish in it, and by that, I mean aggressive in his stance that John McCain is the same as George W. Bush. He did a good job getting the crowd riled up, and was able to given Biden a warm welcome. Then Biden took the stage, and talked. He did not talk for as long as I thought he would, but he was very smart in his disccusion, and HE was the attack bulldog I've been waiting for Barack Obama to be. He was funny, eloquent, insightful, candid and real...and if you have followed Biden's Senate career like I have, you know that it was not an act...that's simply how he is. After being so relieved that the VP stakes are over (for Barack at least, I'm pretty sure McCain is going to pick Romney despite them not liking each other), my disappointment in mass media made my day terrible.

I have one question- When did it become Democratic procedure to "run things past the Clintons"? About half the analysts on CNN were saying "Barack should have vetted Hillary", "Barack doesn't do enough to help her pay down her campaign debt", "Barack should have picked Hillary", blah, blah, blah. I am so sick of hearing this woman's name in connection with both the Obama campaign and the Vice Presidential Nominee, I think I'm going to vomit. Now, I know I am an Obama supporter, through and through, but if the situation would have been reversed, you think they'd be telling Hillary to pick Obama? NO! You think Hillary would have vetted Obama? NO! HELL NO!

Just so everyone knows, being 'vetted' simply means you have met with the committee helping the nominee pick a Vice Presidential candidate, as well as submit financial and medical documents, as well as interview with them. In this in-depth interview, it is said that potential candidates are thoroughly questioned about their stance on different matters like abortion, gun rights, clemency, racial disparity, etc. - I got about six emails asking me what "vetted" means, so I figured I'd clarify.

In my short life, I've never heard this much ribble rabble about a candidate, who basically, couldn't cut it. I don't mean to be mean, or sound mean, I'm not, and as a woman I am very proud of her making it as far as she did, but realistically and objectively, this woman, while having a great place in American history is essentially a known liar. She lied about being under sniper fire, she lied about one of her campaign stories and she was known to exaggerate the truth. People say the media is preferential to Barack Obama, but all the gaffs that Hillary Clinton made and was not called out on, amazed me.

Political commentators keep saying "Barack didn't do this for Hillary" and "Barack didn't do that for Hillary" but no one is mentioning the fact that neither Bill (who is pretty much on my shit list for his comments against Barack after it was clear he was going to be the presumptive nominee) or Hillary is doing any heavy campaigning for Barack. The commentators say that a good number of Hillary supporters are either going to vote for McCain, write Hillary in or abstain from the vote...and no one is asking why Hillary or Bill is not trying to actively do anything about that. One or two stumping speeches isn't enough! Every blog, article or write up about Hillary or Barack has a comment by someone saying "Well, she didn't win so I'm abstaining". That's shameful! Disgraceful! Terrible! Personally, I'm smart enough to not vote for John McCain...ever. Three words. Roe Versus Wade. McCain wants it gone. And while I'm not a believer in abortion for myself, I believe people have the right to choose what is done with their bodies and should be allowed to seek treatment openly and legally without having to risk their life.

So, my question to these commentators is why all the focus on Hillary and Bill? This race isn't theirs, it's Barack's. So either stand with him or get the hell out of his way! Quit whining about campaign debt that YOU made, suck it up and do what's best for the nation! Barack will look out for you, but he cannot be expected to stop and consult with the Former First Lady every two seconds...he has other focuses, like I don't know... maybe, um... HIS CAMPAIGN!

So I have five words:

F**K Hillary AND Bill Clinton!

*Ashley Robin*