Parisian Perfection

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.

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

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*

Dream a Little Dream...

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*

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

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 

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

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

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*

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

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*

Living The Pollo-Pescetarianistic Life

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*

Why So Single?

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*

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

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*

The MisAdventures of a Cripple

Hey,

So as I mentioned a few entries back, specifically in the entry I named "The Weird Day" that I got into a car accident. You can read about that here. Anyway, resulting from the car accident, I find that I am not totally unharmed as I thought. I am known for getting into crazy incidents and surviving totally unharmed, and as such, earned the nickname "SuperWoman". Not this time. 

Can you believe that I, me, fractured my wrist in the course of the accident? Ever so slightly, but more than a hairline. It was discovered a few days after, and I didn't even want to blog about it because I'm a little depressed. No car, no rental (because my insurance company, specifically my agent is a total b**chass) and now, little use of my right hand. And yes, I'm right-handed. Upon going to the hospital, I was told my wrist was fractured and a cast was put on. However, I hated that thing and immediately had it taken off, as soon as I discussed the matter with my doctor. He gave me a bunch of ace bandages, a brace (which I'll never wear in public because it looks like a medieval torture device), and a prescription for vicodin (for extreme pain and even then I'm supposed to take half a pill) as well as tylenol 3. It's summertime, and I'm totally bummed out. The pic is me and my injury. I feel even sorrier for myself just looking at it.

Scrapping that, today's mis-adventure. Why the hell do I have so many crazy people in my life?! I've got a friend, who I love truly, but let's face it, the guy is one syllable away from being placed into a mental institution. If you think I'm elaborating or embellishing...I'm not. If you think I'm just messing with you, I'm not.  

Now, I think the guy is bipolar with a dash of manic depression and some paranoia thrown in for sh**s and giggles...but I'm no psychotherapist. This guy, my friend, says he goes to see a therapist, but I doubt it...because if this dude came into my practice, he'd be in a straitjacket. He goes from happy to sad in one second, recalls conversations and events that did not occur by any means, and forgets things that happened moments before. He'll deny he said or did something less than 5 minutes after he said it. I feel bad for the guy, he's been through enough in his life, but some in-patient therapy could seriously help him. I get scared because I think he's liable to off himself. He's talked about it before, no joke. The only reason why I haven't just totally thought he was going to do it is due to the fact that he has a job, has a career and lives his life, so he's just functionally insane. And while it's alarming to know someone who is functionally insane, it's fairly common in today's world. So, while today's entry isn't really funny, it's just me asking out loud:

What can I do to help this guy? Or is it even my responsibility?

Let me just say-to add some humor-washing your own ass with a brace on your wrist...is REALLY HARD! The nurse gave me these bag things that look like massive shower caps, and I just stick my arm into it, and it's like a shower cap for my brace, wrist and arm up to the elbow. Because one hand is encased in plastic, you are essentially washing your self with one hand, because the bagged hand just freaks me the hell out, reminds me of some porno-esque scene out of a B-movie horror film ...and forget washing your hair. It just takes wayy too long, even though my hair is short..I've got a huge head. The first time I used the ziploc baggie, I was in the shower about an hour. Used all the hot water and had to rinse myself off to the sounds of my own moaning and teeth chattering from the icy water that was left in the reservoir. Yesterday, I almost didn't want to shower because it was so awkward, but I finally broke down and asked my mom to help me. She obliged, of course, and even asked me if I needed help today, but it and this whole 'crippled' experience has made me realize that I really, really, really need a boyfriend. He'd wash my ass for me, no problem. Hell, even a good f**k buddy would! (I hope..)

*Ashley Robin*

The Things We Do For Love

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An update

Hey,

I just wanted to write a quick post thanking everyone for the emails, ims, phone calls and other ways to express their thoughts for me and Kevin during this time. It is nice to know people care. I also wanted to write and let you know that Kevin is awake, but in terrible pain and being sedated to keep down the pain. He will be moving to a hospice tomorrow where he can rest and feel better for being out of the hospital. I can't really cry anymore, or think about it too hard because I simply get upset. It's hard to be calm in times like these, but knowing people are there and care about us makes me feel better. So thank you.

Ashley Robin

Dreaming in Technicolor/Choices

Hey Everyone,

So they say people don't dream in technicolor, but just in black and white. I say that even if that's true, since all my recollections of dreams are in color and are vivid, I've decided to use that idea to create a philosophy for life. It is to dream in technicolor, to do the impossible and to force yourself to step it up to the next level. 

With that in mind, I have a big decision ahead of me. Massively huge, and one that I cannot come into lightly. The decision is, whether to pursue graduate school overseas for a year, or to go to law school. I say this is a massively huge decision, mainly because I have always wanted to go overseas to study, and study pretty much anything! But, part of me has always wanted to go to law school as well. I'm emotionally conflicted, due to my own desires and it's hard. 

I also have a lot of stressful things going on, trying to prepare for graduate or law school, maintain a high GPA so I can graduate magna cum laude like I have always dreamed, and with Honors Recognition. So, I have to get A's all across the board in the Fall and Spring. In order to do that, I have to cut back on my involvement in some of my other activities, like my chaotic love life. LOL.

Speaking of my love life, I'm content being single for once. I know what I want and need, and I'm prepared to wait and sacrifice other things for it. However, I am convinced I will not find anyone worth making a commitment to until I get to the graduate program, whether it be law school or graduate school, of my choice. 

Love is crazy, and the feeling of being in love is just as vital. Without it, how can someone be as excited about getting cute, doing the hair, waxing your neither regions, etc...knowing that a potential date or crush object will see you, versus just doing it for yourself. I have decided to turn that desire to be in love into a strong self-love relationship with myself. So, in keeping with that, I will take myself out on "dates", doing things that I love. Even when I am in a relationship, I've always done things for me by myself, BUT this is different. 

I first discovered these self-dates when my mother was having a rather large party at my house. I have to get you to understand that my mother is like Martha Stewart on crack. She's big on cooking, entertaining..whereas I'm not. I see my home as my place of escape from people...and inviting the very people I wish to escape from into it is like traveling to the depths of hell. I'm just more private, I guess. Maybe that's only child syndrome, I don't know. However, when she decided to throw this party, I made the decision to pack up my cat and leave the night before and hang out all day and come home the next night after her party was over.

So, I pack my cat up and drive to this pet-friendly hotel in the South Suburbs of Chicago. There, both my cat and I slept and ate food that was totally indulgent...I think he had a kitty version of Chicken Kiev and I ate a full three course meal, garlic risotto with chanterelle mushrooms, a rosemary pesto cream linguini with shrimp and an apple tart with french vanilla ice cream for desert. Yes, I love food. No, I'm not overweight. No, I don't eat like that all the time. That morning, when I was able to move again from stuffing my face, I worked out for about two hours, and then I swam in the hotel pool. Afterwards, I met a very strange man who tried to hit on me. Then, I got the cat and took him to the daycare, (yes, daycare for cats exists) and went to buy a new piece of software for my laptop, and then hit up a sushi and sashimi bar for lunch with two of my homegirls from Georgetown (GO HOYAS!) and then we went to get our nails and hair done. Afterwards, we stopped at a bachelorette party for one of their sister's, where I had stripper penis in my face for about an hour and a half. I wasn't the most comfortable with that though. LOL. Private penis dances are one thing to enjoy, but with a group of women all acting like they never even saw one before....notsomuch.

Yes, this date happened to be extravagant, and I don't recommend each self-date be as elaborate, by no means am I recommending people spend all their cash on themselves..but make it a point to do something for you and you alone. Whether it's going to get a manicure or a massage or going to see a movie or just buying a pair of pants or taking a drive somewhere (if you can afford the gas), just doing something that you love to get time with yourself, it will be great. You will feel better about yourself, you can de-stress, you can get to know yourself and enjoy who you are. 

Since it's summer, I plan on spending a lot of time tanning and being more active outside, clearing my head and focusing on the law school vs. grad school decision. I will be blogging, and writing more love, romance and sex advice. So hit me up with questions. I'll do my best to answer everything.

*Ashley Robin*

Summer, Summer, SummerTime! (And the Need for Summer Love)

Hey,

I look at the date and realize it is almost the end of May, which means one thing.. (drumroll) SUMMERTIME! And with the onset of summer, come the sandals, sarongs and swimsuits but also that of the Summer Love. It's on people's minds..ask Justin Timberlake, who even wrote a song about it. People look, feel and are sexier in the summer, mainly because of the lack of clothes. Im not sure what it is, really. I can remember hanging out with the fellas growing up, and watching them play "who can get the most numbers in an hour" game. I'd laugh (to myself, of course) because I knew that most of those girls weren't getting calls, and if they did, it was nothing serious. 

However, as we get older, I wonder...are those kind of games still being played? Except instead of the number, it's a one-night stand or a one-date stand. I'm always cautious of relationships formed in the summer, mainly because more people feel that they need a date to all the barbeques, picnics, beach outings, etc that happen during the summer. Also, since all these events happen, relationships are easier to maintain, because there is a lower expectation to 'go all out' to spend quality time together. But the heat also makes for more passion, not just in lovemaking and all the foreplay attached, but also in the relationship. Some say that because all this passion exists in such a short time, summer relationships tend to end when the season is over..burnt out, and requiring former lovers to heal and re-energize themselves over the fall and winter seasons, just to start the whole cycle over again that next summer. 

Thoughts?

Lately...

Okay, so I know my blog isn't as popular as some others. It's not my goal to be the most popular blogger on the internet. However, I do find it surprising so many people read my blog, but don't comment. It's like tasting the food, and NOT complimenting or complaining to the chef. Sigh.

So, I've always been the person that people around me have gone to for relationship advice. Maybe it's because my own relationship history has been colored with different types of people from different backgrounds, or that I can relate to people all across the board. It baffles me that I can give advice to others but cannot take it myself. So, I complained to the one person that I know 'gets' me...my mom. She, in turn, told me the one thing that I needed to hear. "Before you make the journey to finding someone, you need to make sure that you have found yourself. Have you done that?" I had to come to the realization that I hadn't. Not in the sense that I was going for what I wanted, but more so what people wanted me to want. I went after guys who looked like, acted like and seemed to be the kinds of men that made me look good, that my friends could desire for themselves (not my guy specifically, but a guy LIKE mine), but not what I wanted. However, that is no longer the case.

I'm going to take my own advice and look outside my box. Forget the previous 'standards' and find someone who takes my breath away. Truly, madly and deeply. Meanwhile, I'll keep posting my tips on dating, sex and relationships. Someone should be able to use them! LOL...

Much love

(GO OBAMA!)

Somethin' For Nothin'

So, I'm making my plans for the New Year. Everyone says that it's resolutions, that every new year allows us a chance to clean our slates and start anew..and while I'm no big believer in fresh starts, mainly because fresh starts don't exist, I'm owning up to my mistakes, and planning to make the best decisions in my life. Also, fresh starts don't really exist..especially in relationships. I say this because things never seem to want to be left alone. Sadly, we live in an insecure society. People feel that they must be judge against as well as judge other people. Were they better looking, better in bed, funnier, smarter, more interesting, charming, giving than I am? I'm sure at some point everyone has asked these questions, especially when dealing with matters of the heart and matters of intimacy. It's the questions that drive us. Well, my philosophy is to let sleeping dogs lie. Otherwise, leave the past alone. If it isn't affect you, what you currently do or plan to do, then it shouldn't matter. Sadly, I have yet to meet someone, especially a male that I'm attracted to. I thought that these issues would kind of be resolved, but, I just cant seem to find the combination of sexiness, maturity, sensuality, kindness, trust and devotion in a man. I keep looking though, and that brings me to my New Years 'resolution', to devote myself to myself...to find self-love first, and then find it in someone else. I wish I could relieve certain moments in the past over again, behave differently, but since it's not an option, I will be shaking the past moments, assumptions and bad advice off of my feet and going for what is best for me. Not the concept that is given four stars by Good Housekeeping magazine.

A.

Life Is Just My Fairy Tale

Haven't really blogged in a while, mainly because not much interesting has happened. Then today came, and sigh....I realized that I'm stuck in a moment and it seems to be lasting forever. Here's the status of things....in a nutshell, I'm bored and tired. Not bored in the sense that I'd do something silly for kicks, and not tired in the sense that I need sleep...just that my life is going in circles...kinda like that movie Groundhog Day, where you keep repeating yourself over and over and over....until you get so sick of things you look for ways to die and even then, you still wake up the next day unscathed physically.

I've been doing a lot of thinking, about my life, my mistakes, my future, where I see myself, and other than getting this degree and my grad degree, I don't really know what lies ahead. For once in my life, I have no plans...and it scares the crap out of me. I always pictured myself doing this by that age, this by that age, etc, etc....and now I have no idea where I'll live, what I'll be, who I'll be with, (if anyone) and if my future is as bright as some say. I guess I have to learn to just go with the flow of things, but I've always had a plan. me without one is kinda like jumping out a plane without a parachute...it makes NO sense. So, instead of setting up ideals that I see myself in or out of, I've come up with five goals.

1) Getting on good terms with as much of my family as possible. No matter what happens, you should have good ties with my family. I'm mainly thinking of my father, which may not be possible, but if I go to New York to see him, and it doesn't work, at least I'll have tried, which will be more than enough for me. It'll be enough to know I gave 100Àthat I took all the bull in stride and that I can truly be proud of my effort, enough that I don't have to regret any decisions I make in regards to him.

2) Finding some purpose. I've always wanted to spend more time giving back, and having to do community service with the Honors College will force me to do just that. I have the feeling that if I throw myself into something, whether it be kids, animals, the homeless, babies, I'll have a good time with it. I've already planned to let my hair grow long enough to where it can be donated to Locks of Love (14 inches, plus) over and over again until I get tired of it....and to donate blood as often as I can...but it's not enough. I can do more.

3) Making a plan to graduate and sticking to it. This one is the most reachable, since I've got a plan on grad school and time to get it done. I just don't want to be an undergrad at 25...so I guess I better hurry up.

4) Happiness. Finding some degree of it, whether it be a puppy, a boyfriend or just self-love, and never letting it go.

5) Fun...having more of it, more time to be silly, more time to enjoy things. This goes hand in hand with my plan to work hard, get more money in my life, and actually try to take time to enjoy the fruit of my labor.

Ash