if we're even the teeniest bit lucky...

...we'll end up like this. 167 more days.

couch potato.

a lot of really great things are made from potatoes...

french fries
mashed potatoes
hash browns
um, did i mention french fries?

...so i really don't mind admitting that today i was a couch potato. in fact i'm kind of proud of it since my multi-tasking tendencies typically send me into a stressed out rage where i ask jason, "WHAT IS SO HARD ABOUT CLOSING THE MEDICINE CABINET ALL THE WAY?! HOW OLD ARE YOU?!" in fact i'm quite proud that we'll be avoiding that (awesome) conversation today and instead head to the movies (to see harry potter. like i said, "how old are we?!"), and to show it off i have composed a list of the top three commercials of the day. enjoy (the commercials and your weekend.)




...i mean am i the only one who eats a sausage egg and cheese sandwich and feels like death?



...if only the commute really was like this. i totally wouldn't have quite my job.



...get it?! love it.

its real. its a real live ring.

no, not my engagement ring which is also real (and awesome), but this ring...

...as pictured in a previous blog post just a few scrolls down.

you can buy it here. and ship it (to me) here.

say it with me, "yes please."

the city makes dog cry. story 1 of 3.

i get it all the time.

from people on the street, "gasp, how could you ever want to leave new york city?" (raises head (and nose) in conceit.)

from friends at home, "you're too young not to be out and about in the big apple!" (shakes head in disgust.)

from interns at the office, "don't you have to a family to live in the suburbs?" (tilts head in confusion.)

even jay-z is all like, "the concrete jungle where dreams are made of. the streets will make you feel brand new. big lights will inspire you. blah, blah, blah."

well folks, you heard it hear first -like all new york sports teams the city itself is overrated.

when jason and i met we were both living in a luxury building in downtown manhattan. while it was all sorts of fancy and schmancy we were ready for some good ol' new york "quaintness".

Quaintness we thought we found when we rented a renovated 4th floor walk up on a brownstone-lined street on new york's upper west side. with central park just down the block, boutiques at every turn, and four starbucks within walking distance i thought for sure we had hit the realestate jackpot.

but we couldn't have been more wrong. here is one (of three) short stories which, when smooshed together into a tiny one-bedroom apartment, explains it all...

you see, winter had melted away and the city was (finally) coming out of hibernation.

jason had headed to the beach with some friends, while i was spending the weekend in the city dogsitting for one cute, four-pound excuse of a dog named toro.

after taking advantage of restaurant week (one point new york) with old family friends, i tucked myself and the tiny little pup into bed. thats when i felt the tickle.

"toro," i said, " that tickles," as i held him just a bit tighter. but then i felt it again.

quicker than jay-z could lay down a beat i threw the off those covers, jumped up on to the bed, and let out a scream; there it was - our very first cockroach.

it was (only) at this very moment i was grateful to have such a tiny lil' room. without getting off the bed i reached into jason's closet, pulled out the biggest, thickest, shoe i could i find, and repeatedly smacked it against the ground while simultaneously dialing jason on my phone.

that conversation went a bit like this...

"WHERE ARE YOU," i belted.

"Just pulling in to the beach house (in a car packed with five guys)he calmly responded.

"YOU HAVE TO COME HOME RIGHT NOW! I DON'T CARE THAT YOUR FOUR HOURS AWAY," i rationally retorted,"WE HAVE COCKROACHES."

"did you kill it," he replied.

"YES! OF COURSE"

"well, then i'll call you later and i'll see you on sunday. you're fine and i love you." click.

sure i was fine. but what about toro? well, that poor sucker went shuffling into the air and i'm pretty sure pulled off a few 360's before landing in the opposite side of the room, when i "lightly and calmy tossed" the blanket off the bed. it took him a whole three hours to forgive me while he sulked (voluntarily) in his cage.

new york city makes dogs cry. why don't they rap about that?

i beg to differ. a story about contradicting mothers and non-traditional weddings.

actual conversations. names have not been changed to protect the identity of the participants.

me: i don't really like the idea of bridesmaids
my mom: but you have to have bridesmaids.
me: why?
my mom: because who will sign your wedding certificate? and who will throw you showers*?
*showers, those awkward things no one likes attending. gosh, how would i ever live without one of those?

me: i don't really like that idea mom.
my mom: well you already got your shoes.
me: yes exactly, my shoes. for my wedding.

me: i don't think i want flowers.
my mom: you have to have flowers.
me: why?
my mom: don't think it'll be weird you to walk down an aisle not holding flowers?
me: don't you think it's weird that people spend way too much money on flowers that just die the next day?

me (five minutes ago): i think i found an alternative to a bouquet.
my mom: whats that?
me: brooch bouquets.
my mom (in absolute disgust): brooch? bouquets?
me: they're cute, really.
my mom (again, in absolute disgust): oh ok. i'll take your word for it.

well mom, to quote the always fabulous children program, reading rainbow, "you don't have to take my word for it." feast your eyes on these...

and my ultimate favorite, the color-scheme-friendly variety...


brooch bouquets are everywhere . they're such a unique, quaint alternative to the overpriced floral bouquet. you can ask your guests to donate a piece (so you carry a bit of of all of them with you down the aisle), raid your grandmother's jewelry collection (because no one was classy or fashionable as your grandmother), or hit up local vintage stores, ebay, and thrift shops for cheap additions to your wedding decor.


i hold my ground, brooch bouquets are awesome and moms aren't always right*.
*but they are most of the time, its a weird magical mom power

all (you) want for christmas.

as i have mentioned in a previous post i have aged 30 years over night and the highlight of my month is no longer dollar pitchers at the local bar, but finding the latest real simple in my mailbox. while i usually ogle over the recipe section, december's issue had me drooling over the splendid offerings of their annual gift guide.

("wait a minute. scratch that. reverse it." - willy wonka)

here are a few that have made their way to my "must buy" list...

1. eco tennis balls and bucket for the dog-owners in my life (which unfortunately does not include myself)

2. my beer guzzling buddies are sure to find, etched pint glasses in their stocking this year. (the mustache is my personal favorite.)

3. for a certain hostess-with-the-mostess, a custom state-shaped cutting board
4. i know a certain nature loving boy who will find this anatomical frog puzzle "cool", "rad", or whatever phrase kids these days are using.

5. while another little guy in my life thats five going on 55 will look just a tad bit too cute in this tie tee-shirt, which comes in a variety of color combinations.

6. the city dwellers on my list will thank me for these crocheted headphones - not only can they stay warm, maintain ultimate style, and listen to music, but they can also tune out the homeless guy singing on the train.

7. these eyeglass straws, while used simultaneously with above mentioned mustache glass could make for one dapper drunk. drink up monsieur.

8. and for myself this classic, elegant, tracy reese l.b.d.

you are welcome.

love at first sight.

i could not be more head over heels for this marie claire spread of emma watson.

the clothes, the makeup, the hair.

i hate to bum off of other (brilliant) blogs, but this, this is my daily girl crush.

sah-woon.

freedom. freedom. freeeedom.

i can sum up my emotions of this past weekend in one word, freedom.

and no, i'm not talking the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness (as awesome as all that is.) i'm talking about wind in your hair, radio blaring, sweet sweet 16 year old, just got my drivers license car driving freedom.

you see, the past five'ish years of my life i have lived in a big city where owning a car was darn near impossible. (trust me, i borrowed one once and got it towed twice. in 24 hours.) but now that jason and i have aged roughly 30 years over night and have made the big move to the 'burbs of NYC, not owning a car is darn near impossible. (trust me, going to target loses its appeal when you have to walk home with an oversized pack of toilet paper in your hand no matter how good of a deal you got on it.)

to be fair, we have a "car", but i'm using that term loosely. its tiny, it seats two people, its a convertible, i can carry more in my arms than you can even begin to imagine squeezing into the "trunk", and stick shift. so on top of all that impracticality throw in my questionable driving record, my inability to hold on to a wallet for more than a few months and therefore my drivers license, and that impossible to learn manual transmission and you have one ride-bumming trapped ashley.

but this weekend we bought a car. a real car. a real automatic car. a brand new real automatic car - a mini countryman. (it has a back seat! it has trunk space! it has naviation, reclining seats, a port to plug in your iphone!) and it is so brand new that it doesn't even come out until january.

oh wait.

...i guess what i'm trying to say is i feel like a 15 and half year old. you know - just got my temps and can't really drive, but can still smell that sweet scent of freedom, freedom, freeeedom.

oh well whatever, i'll be busy until january anyway. i mean i have to practice my mini wave (so i can greet my fellow mini owners on the road. and shoot, if there isn't one - i'll be busy making one up because there clearly should be one), read up on ny driving laws (did you know you can't turn right on red in nyc?), and brush up on my flirting so i can get out of the tickets i'll inevitably deserve (i'm joking jason.) (not really.)

i'll never forget...

image

that feeling, the pure emotion that ran through my body, my mind, and my heart when jason got down on one knee.

and now this lucky lil' bride to be won't either.

say it with me, "adorable."