The Moon, Mercury, and Some Dog Poop

Happy full moon, friends. Mercury is also back to her old tricks in retrograde. Maybe you're one of those people who thinks putting thought into things like that is silly and pointless. But as I love the silly and pointless I can't help but find it interesting. Perhaps I'm just always looking to blame my bad luck on something I can't control.

And today struck me with some interesting luck. Nothing epic. Just interesting.

It began when I took my dog, Lua (which means moon in Portuguese!) out for her morning "business meeting". While picking up her remains I managed to step off the curb and fall into the street. No traffic was stopped, no one besides my pride had to suffer through that one. I just took my scratched up hands and shook them to the sky for a moment before heading back inside.

After two bizarre bus situations, I made it to camp (my current stream of income) two minutes late. And I'm never late to work so you can imagine how even two minutes would irk me. I shared a fine morning of theater games and unrelated conversations about cats with the kids before we headed to lunch.

When we had finished our tree shaded picnic at the park, and one child had used my arm as a tissue, three girls had to use the bathroom and voted me as their travel agent. Being cool enough to be considered for such an honor was a real compliment. While we walked to the restrooms we passed by a very old woman and her dog, who was in the middle of his own business meeting. She started loudly verbalizing her utter discomfort at the situation. She was sitting in some type of wheel chair device and it was obvious that the mere task of picking up after her dog would put her through some serious stress and probably take the rest of the afternoon. She must have sensed my weakness for pets and old people, as it felt like she was speaking loudly for my benefit, but I immediately volunteered to pick up after her dog and dispose of his waste.

And, um, yikes. That little dog had created quite the mass. I won't get too into it because that would be unfortunate. I'll just say it was truly a shocking and smelly experience. And I deal in the shocking and smelly everyday. But she was very grateful. And it seems with a little act of humanity people are often very willing to leave you with some sweet words of their own, as if your gesture had a price. She told me I was kind and beautiful... and that she liked my skirt. And then how pretty she thought my daughters were. You know, those three eight year olds I dragged along for this undertaking.

As we walked away the girls giggled at the idea of me being their mom. (Which I appreciated. Considering the birthing process of producing three gals around the same age would probably be tricky.) And I explained that sometimes when we can be a help to someone else that we need to step up and do what we can. In complete seriousness, one of the girls came over and whispered to me, "What if we see an old lady with a pooping dog and we don't know how to pick up the poop? What do we do?!" I tried to explain my personal technique with my motherly smile but ultimately explained that just being nice to people is the most important thing. The rest falls into place. Lesson learned, little ladies!

Another bizarro bus situation for my return home and further cell phone issues later, I got back to my apartment just in time to deal with my own little poop machine. And with plenty of time to enjoy this warm moon filled evening... wondering what the planets have in store for us next...

Dog Gone Good Deed

When I worked at Bath and Body Works one of our sales beliefs was, "make someone's day". So corny, I know, but it's actually something that I've come to value. Whenever I'm having an off day or feeling sad I try to refocus and try to do that. Make someone's day.

It's not a difficult task when it comes to me, people constantly make my day with a kind word or a high five. A simple act of thoughtfulness will take you everywhere.

After a wonderful Theater Pub on the warmest day/night I've experienced here in a long time I stopped into Walgreens on my walk home and picked up some items for my dog. Deciding within the moment to purchase her some bones that are supposed to a dog's breath better. (Which would hopefully be a win for both of us.)

I completed my walk under the almost full moon and was greeted by an excited pup. When I presented her with her bone she hopped with delight and licked me with appreciation. It was sort of gross. But still so cute! I realized that while I may not have made any one person's day today, I made one little dog happy. And it's a wonderful feeling.

So try it sometime. Aim to make someone or some dog's day, I think you'll find it makes your own.

TJ's Trades

By now I'm sure you've realized that I do a lot of thinking about food. A lot. And most of my time is spent with the belief that I may actually be able to find a more meaningful relationship with some of my prized Trader Joe's snack items than with actual human companionship. (If the saying, "you are what you eat" is true, what do you think that says about me?)

I've also found that simply asking someone what their favorite treat from TJ's is can often unveil a little more about them and increase your own knowledge of all things yummy. I'm currently having a secret love affair with their Scottie Dogs and their dark chocolate and sea salt covered almonds. Please don't tell hummus.



I was never much of a black licorice fan, but seriously, guys, those things are da bomb. And a girl like me shouldn't be allowed to say things like "da bomb", you know?






And I'd pretty much do anything dark chocolate told me to do. But throw in an almond and some sea salt? Well, let's just say if they were in the form of a fictional chocolate river, I would pull an Augustus Gloop and early disqualify myself from the chance of owning an oompa loompa run chocolate factory.

So anyway, everyone, as you've probably gathered, I love my Trader Joe's delights. And now I'd love to know if we are what we eat, what are you? (Based upon your favorite TJ's item, please. Ah, thank you, my fellow food frienders.)

God Spells Google

Google image your name. I happened to do it by accident but it proved to be an amusing experience. I immediately found this picture. From a production of "Godspell" I was in over three and a half years ago. YIKES, right? Ah, the internet. You always know how to keep it real, huh?

Further 38 Finds

After an evening celebrating Julia's birth at Kennedy's in North Beach, I made my way back to Divisadero. On the 38 I had the distinct pleasure of sitting next to a young gentleman who giggled while reading his bible and sat across from another lad who had the creepy Kill Bill whistle as his personal ring tone.


Once I was home I threw on my cupcake pajamas that would rival Liz Lemon's collection to take my dog out. One of the blessings and curses of living above two bars is that your doorstop is constantly filled with people. Mainly of the drunk variety. Often they're more of an annoyance to be honest but sometimes they can't help but make me laugh. Even in the rain, even while walking my little dog, even with me looking like a crazy homeless woman wearing a dress over my pjs and flip flops, I still earned a nod and smile from a tipsy male bar patron. Thank you, as always, city, for keeping me entertained and flattered in the most unexpected hours.

Eat Pray Love? Meet, Sweet Gray Glove.

I had recently returned to San Francisco in January of 2008 to find myself more alone than I had ever been in my life. 3,000 miles away from everyone and anyone, I began to learn the streets of the city with solo steps. I had decided to live in San Francisco because I had been cast in "Tony N Tina's Wedding", a casting choice which forced me to leap into the unknown and leave the comforts of the east coast; however, as our rehearsals didn't begin until February, I had one month to endure alone. As I didn't have any companions around, I took to my old habit of befriending my books. Each night after work, I went home to my sublet and made relationships with literature.


One of the books that happened my way that winter was Elizabeth Gilbert's "Eat Pray Love". Perhaps it was my endless solitude, perhaps it was because I was trying to get over a heartbreak, perhaps I just really needed someone to understand me, but I found a peace within those pages. A humorous emotional lady out on a soul search of her own, trying to find happiness in unconventional settings, and learning how to love herself along the journey. In any case, I felt as though she sang a familiar tune and I longed to create harmony.

These past few days haven't been the easiest and I've found myself in a similar place to the Ashley of 2008. On the cusp of something just out of reach, fearful to both move forward and stay still. Thankfully, I have some additional comforts now; the most important being the presence of my sister, Katelyn. The person I admire most in the world and who forces me to be a better and stronger lady by simply existing. And tonight she got me out of sulking at home and met me for dinner and a movie.

Egg Salad sandwiches, a white cherry icee, and some split donuts. If that's not the definition of eat, pray, love, what is? I snuggled into the dark theater wearing my gray fingerless gloves made by my sister and tried to get lost in movie world. While the film isn't totally a cinematic achievement for our time, it is a sweet representation of the book and made for an enjoyable evening. As we longed for the sites of faraway places and Julia's pretty wavy locks we caught a 38 bus and made our ways home.

One of the questions that struck me tonight from the film though was idea of picking one word to capture your essence. One word that defines your life. One word to share with the world. I'm still thinking about what mine would be, but I'd love to know what word you would pick for yourselves. To see if, perhaps, our words can form a story. So, let's try it. What would your word be? Once upon a time...

One Call to Singleton, Please.

This week, I'm suffering with a phone that won't make/take calls or send/receive texts. So basically, I'm paying $100 bucks a month for a glorified time telling device that plays music... sometimes.

And as I had discussed, just mere days ago, being in a long distance relationship ultimately equaled dating my phone. Well, it seems both have taken an unfortunate turn and won't be able to weather this storm. Amusingly enough, I guess, I woke up this morning with a dead phone and a sadness in my heart to look outside and see the sun. A sight I have not witnessed in weeks. I walked out into the warmish weather to take care of my dog. I managed to get a teary phone call out to my mother. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Accepting that the reality of life is that things break. All the time. Even when we need them or want them. But that you have to do what you can to remedy the problem, be strong, and keep going, not allowing too much of yourself to break along with it. I'm trying to leave the stormy rain cloud that I'm feeling inside and open myself up to this beautiful San Francisco day unfolding. At least for a little while so that I can get to the AT&T store and start working on a new phone...

Pint Sized Bites And Beers

I, the Starving Artist, often find that I've bitten off more than I may be able to chew. That perhaps sometimes there is just a little too much on my plate. But then again, at the same time, I'm always hungry for more.

Tonight was the first performance of Theater Pub's Pint Sized Plays. A project that I had the privilege of sharing a piece I wrote and directed and another which I acted in. This opportunity came at the end of a busy summer for me. After a busy season of trips and work on other plays, I knew that agreeing to take on multiple responsibilities was going to involve biting more than a pint.


But maybe it's the lovely magic of the theater that takes away one's gag reflex. (You know, among the many other wonderful things it can provide.) I may have been challenged by a few stressful evenings full of actor nightmares and a day spent actually being too nervous to eat anything substantial (hard to believe, I know), but in the end, I was full of love. Delicious theater love. My fellas did a fantastic job in my play, "Genie In A Bud Light" and minutes later the piece I acted in, "Queen Mab In Drag" finally bloomed in front of its first audience. An evening surrounded by theater, friends (two of which mentioned reading my blog - hey, Carl!), laughs, and beer? What could be better?

Well, I'll tell you. Being high-fived at my exit by a drunk girl with the call, "You! You the actress girl with the big eyes!" and getting my appetite back to eat a slice of pizza with my director and lovely friend, Julia, before walking home in some late San Francisco mist. Good one, Monday night, I'm looking forward to doing it all again next week. And, luckily, now that some of the nerves have passed I can return to my normal eating habits... in hopes that one day I'll go from Starving Artist to Only Moderately Hungry Artist.

Overheard, Overshared?

This evening my sister and I dined at a cheap Indian food restaurant located within a few blocks from the place she's house/pet sitting while I took advantage of her temporary living arrangement with three alarmingly large loads of laundry. We sat behind a couple in their fifties who spoke both in animated tones and intimate purrs. Our favorite conversation went a little something like this:

Guy: What should we do tonight?

Gal: (sigh) Sex and a movie?

Guy: (sigh) Yeah, I guess.

I assume they went home and enjoyed some indoor recreation along with their leftovers and I went home with damp (but clean!) clothes. Sounds about right.

An Average Ashley August Afternoon

San Francisco is currently experiencing its coldest summer since 1971. Waking up to chills and clouds has become a constant. And so began another August Saturday afternoon by the bay.

Before heading to rehearsal in the Mission, I stopped into Martha's, our neighborhood coffee shop, for, big shocker here, a coffee. Similar to Sally in "When Harry Met Sally", I tend to have some specific demands with my orders but I also attempt to add my own solutions. For example, I enjoy my Martha's iced coffee with Trader Joe's vanilla soy milk. Knowing that, I thought it would be a brilliant idea to take some with me so that I could the enjoy my delicious combination on the run. So, I placed some milk into a small container, kissed my dog goodbye, and left. What could go wrong, right?

I claimed a spot in line behind a smiley man fresh off a workout. He turned around, gave me an uninterested glance, and then caught the eye of another lady. A blond one. She got in line behind me and he turned around a bit further to compliment her outfit. I couldn't help but wonder if I had decided against wearing my worn in Salvation Army threads if he would have shared some kind words in my direction. But in any case, I stood there, with my small plastic container, in the middle of this budding romance. Minutes passed. Workout Mcgee continued to turn around longingly to his blond stylish beauty while I awkwardly stood in his way thinking about food fantasies and coffee beverages.

Thankfully, for all of us, I got my drink and this gentleman was able to more actively pursue his gal. I watched for a few moments as they engaged in new conversation and flirtation as I pulled out my soy milk. Well, in typical Ashley fashion, I opened the container and spilled it everywhere. My cheeks raced to red as I scurried to remedy this accident. All the while, I continued to wish the new couple well.

I then got on the bus, found a seat, and within ten seconds, a mentally disabled man followed me and complimented MY outfit. He was very sweet and then proceeded to spend the next ten minutes making observations about me like, "You have two feet." "I can see your ankle." "You have brown hair." Whenever he remarked about my hands we would high five or he would shake my hand. Part my idea, part his.

Leave it to the SF bus system to prove to me that there really is balance in the world and while one person may not appreciate my hair color or clothing choice, another one will. As for my clumsy ways and coffee addiction? Well, some things never change.

Absence Makes The Heart Go Ponder

Out of sight, out of mind or absence makes the heart grow fonder? I presented the question to my boyfriend through a text one evening and he responded with the response, "It seems like absence makes your heart go ponder." Well put, boyfriend, I knew I was dating you for a reason.

Though, because of our current situation, we're both, more truthfully, in relationships with our phones. That's right, folks, we're long distance. A type of relationship that's new to both of us and something we're trying to blindly survive. The "we" that we've created exists in phone calls, texts, memories, and photographs to cling to. But if a picture is worth a thousand words, how many are allotted to silent intimacies like hand holds and understood shared glances? In my opinion, not enough.

So what is the secret to success? Anyone? After years of comically horrendous dating mishaps and stormy heartbreaks, I met someone who seemed to defy my fears. He sailed in as gracefully as a ship in languid waters and struck like a rocket destined to burning speed aimed toward me without my knowledge. Our meeting was thanks to a dare inspired by one too many free beverages offered at an opening night gala as we found ourselves cast in a crowd of well dressed theater enthusiasts. I (oh, so, wrongfully) assumed he was gay and spent the evening exchanging words with an out of state stranger assuming that I'd leave that night with an appreciation for intelligent conversation with a good looking man in a suit and a beer buzz.



What followed that buzz though, was something beyond a movie. And while our time together was short, it was more than sweet. I've always been a romantic, an avid fan of fairy tales, if you will, but I've also always had an unfortunate habit to linger closer to the edge of skepticism when it came to my own love life. Questioning whether I could meet someone who could not only tolerate my proclaimed quirky tendencies and notorious bad jokes, but actually enjoy them and provide me with their own unique humorous stylings as well. If this relationship ends with nothing more than an answer to that seemingly simple question, then we can already claim it a victory. And so after our evening rivaling the beautiful film, "Before Sunrise", we began the "courting process". One month of daily treasured calls from the girl who despises the phone later, we met again on his turf and gave a title to our understanding: a relationship. A long distance relationship.

Over 1,000 texts and nightly conversations even later than that. Here we are. About to celebrate three months of knowing each other and sadly, it won't involve anything further than another date with our phones and perhaps a stroll down memory lane. I often feel that along with being in a relationship with my iphone, I'm also in a relationship with my loneliness. (Which, if you combined them, could be called "ilone". Right?!) A solitude I both welcome and ache for. Our time away gives me too much time to think but it's nice having someone worthy of so many thoughts. I wish we could consult a copy of "Long Distance Relationship Guide To Those Who Are Financially Challenged And Can't Often Afford The High Costs Of Flights, Especially If They Want To Check Their Bags Or Eat On The Trip, But Long To... For Dumbies" but it seems like the book has been sold out for awhile. And so I look to you, internet. And I don't mean for porn. To share my experience and hope that advice or perspective finds me... What do you think? Is it as easy as out of sight, out of mind or does absence truly make the heart grow fonder?