Author Archives: Ashlynn

This is called “Ashlynn slowly being driven mad by college apps.”

I apologize for basically dropping off the face of the earth for the past couple…months…or so. Speech, Netflix, college applications, finals, Netflix, stressing out about college applications, work, and Netflix have all utterly consumed my life, to the point where I just feel burnt out all the time (well…I guess I can’t put Netflix in that category. But due to its mind-invading, soul-sucking nature, I’ve found myself glued to my TV screen watching entire seasons of Dexter and Arrested Development and haven’t found the willpower to pry my eyes away just yet).

As any high school senior will tell you, the college application process sucks. Completely. You think of college as something distant, something that only exists in the far off world of “young adulthood,” that magical place where you actually have to buy your own groceries and shampoo, don’t have to tell anyone where you are at four in the morning, and can choose to spend entire days attached to your laptop watching Netflix without people bothering you to unload the dishwasher. You trick yourself into thinking you have more time than you actually have before you have to start the application process and decide your future (yikes). Then before you know it, it’s the Thursday before your applications are due, and you have a speech meet on Friday and Saturday, Saturday being the deadline, and you basically have to get your entire list of applications completed and sent in by midnight Thursday night, as well as all of their supplemental essays and requirements, while still getting enough sleep to function the next day, or you’re completely screwed.

Not that this has ever happened to me. Ahem.

But it’s not just the actual process that sucks; the waiting period after you’ve finally gotten them into the admissions people is brutal. Colleges like to equip you with a method of checking the  “status” of your application. Basically this means you get to make sure the college has received everything it need to receive in order to accept or reject you. This method, instead of relieving stress, generally causes even more stress to boil up, because, surprise, surprise, all colleges don’t receive your information at the same time, and they aren’t all very good at updating your “status-checking account” very promptly, so you end up not knowing whether or not everything in each application is going to make it to every school, and you start totally freaking out and obsessively checking the websites every hour or so waiting for them to show that they have received all of your applicaiton materials so that you’ll be able to go to college and get a degree and a job and support yourself so that you don’t have to go sell yourself on the corner of Montana Avenue, or work any number of minimum-wage retail jobs.

 And I apologize for that sentence, but it was necessary to convey the terror I’m currently experiencing.

And the worst part about the whole thing is that, after going through all of that stressful mental anguish, you possibly won’t even be able to go to the college of your choice because your parents aren’t independently wealthy and might not be able to finance a private liberal arts education, which will either force you to take out a plethora of student loans that your degree in English Literature will not be able to pay off, or go to the significantly cheaper state school that you have made your high-school priority to avoid.

Blech. I’m just going to be glad when I have this all figured out and can breathe again.

Thank God I have Netflix to soothe my college woes. Muahaha.

I need an intervention.

So, I felt obliged to post something since I haven’t in a very long time, and though this was probably boring as hell to read, at least it was something.

Good night, and good luck,


P.S., Yes, I stole that line from a newscaster from the 1950s.

Psh. Productivity.

What does a girl do when she’s psyched herself up for an evening at work and then sent home due to an excess of hosts/hostesses at said work?

Well, she could study for the SAT that she’s retaking in less than two days…

Or do the anatomy project that is due tomorrow…

Or her briefs for government class…

Or attempt to start her speech for oratory…

But no.

She blogs instead.

Huzzah 🙂 such a productive soul, am I.

But then again, productivity is for squares, and due to this acute case of senioritis that seems to be settling even deeper into the core of my soul, I’ve been wasting my time every evening from the time I get home to the time I go to sleep.

Actually, now that I think about it, my average after-school day consists of the following:

Huzzah for Chick Lit.

My lovely, hairy kitty cat :)These are often what I look forward to most during the week.

And of course, Facebook.

Also, I’ve not only been filling my days with totally unproductive, mindless activities, but I’ve been simply exhausted all the time lately, because I can’t manage to get a good night’s sleep, damnit. So I get tired at 8:00 like an old lady in a nursing home, but can’t manage to shut my brain down until practically midnight.

Which is probably why it’s a good thing that I’ve now joined Speech and Debate, because now I actually have something that isn’t homework that I can do in my free time to keep my mind occupied, other than reading mindless chick-lit novels or watching trashy (albeit, very entertaining) reality shows on MTV.  So, fellow bloggers and blog-readers, if Speech doesn’t manage to keep me as occupied as I hope it will, suggestions for activities that will hopefully keep my mind sharp and occupied, but that are still fun,  would be very welcome.

Otherwise I feel like my brain will become one big pile of mental-apathy-induced brain-mush. Which isn’t exactly an attractive option.

On a relatively un-pessimistic note, I watched the Quentin Tarantino movie From Dusk Til Dawn and really enjoyed it. Ah, Quentin, you are a genius. But nothing can top Pulp Fiction.

Well, I’m tired, and I’m now officially out of things to write about. So much for creating an interesting blog entry for today…

“We are young! We are strong! We’re not lookin’ for where we belong! We’re not cool! We are free! And we’re running with blood on our knees!

“We could rule the world, on a silver platter, from the wrong to the right light, to an open stream.

“With a crash and burn, we could make it better, turn it upside down, just you and me.

“We are the dream. No other way, to be.”

This is a song by Mika and Redone called “Kick Ass” (or “We Are Young,” if you don’t want to use the profanity) and is, not surprisingly, the theme song to the movie Kick Ass. Which I really want to see. I really like the lyrics to this song and felt compelled to share them. 🙂

Thanks again for reading!


I’m a war of head versus heart and it’s always this way.

Where, oh where has my creativity gone?! It disappeared without so much a note explaining where it’s gone, or when it will be back, or What. The. Hell. I’m supposed to do without it.

Everything I do these days seems to be clouded in a haze of exhaustion/anxiety/guilt (usually about neglecting some sort of work due to the two previous emotions) and it is severely affecting my ability to openly and creatively stretch my mind.

And it’s really beginning to piss me off.

Case in point:

In AP English, our teacher has us writing college essays that are supposed to, in an original and creative way, some way that will cause the reader to take notice, express some sort of interesting or valuable trait within us. Um, creative writing, hello? This is totally my forte. But, instead of finding the task ridiculously easy and only bitching about it to have something to bitch about that others can relate to (which I actually find myself doing quite a bit. Don’t judge.) I actually found myself stuck. Completely.

It was like the creative, witty, funny part of my brain decided, “Okay! Time for a vacation! I’ll be back when I’m back, see ya later and have fun fending for yourself!” *evil snicker*.

So I end up turning in some horribly boring, tedious tripe that has nothing to do with anything going on in my life, and may as well have been written by my dog or my nine-year-old sister.

I’m wondering where my creativity has flown off to. Is it hiding due to the excessive (but manageable, thank God for the defense mechanism of repression) stress of impending college-stuff that is wracking my body/mind/soul currently? Or have I just grown up and gotten to the point of no return, the point where the mundane has invaded my soul and turned me into just another average person of the workforce, doomed to work at a boring job where The Man will work to harness my soul even further, pulling me past the point of mildly boring individual to the ninth circle of hell with the worker drones and the investment bankers?! GAH!!!!!!

I really hope not.

Switching gears now…

Following the whole love life trend that seems to be going on in the blog lately, I’m just going to put my two-cents in about my love situation, because it’s pathetic, and I think blogging about it may help me feel not so hopeless.

It’s that classic, practically-a-bad-80s-movie-meets-Disney-Channel-special situation in which the girl ends up falling for her best friend. Which, in reality, sucks a lot more than the movies seem to let on.

Think about it. Girl and boy spend loads of time together, because, hello, they’re of the best friend variety. They like many of the same things. They make each other laugh. They get along with the other’s family.

Girl ends up realizing that what she had first seen as a goofy, uncoordinated, charismatic friend has become one of the people in which she trusts most implicitly, and she begins to see him as a truly amazing individual, one that she could seriously see herself in a relationship with. They do say friends can make the best significant others, right?

The tricky part comes from the fact that this boy is one of her very best friends, and she doesn’t know what she’d do if that changed, meaning that she doesn’t want to risk destroying the friendship by pushing any sort of relationship. Worse yet, the boy keeps sending her awkward mixed signals (partially because the boy is an awkward individual who has trouble sharing his feelings), causing her to wonder if he’s possibly thinking the same thing, but not giving her enough of a clear signal to act.

She’s caught in a conundrum. She wants to act, yet she doesn’t. She wants to spend so much time with the boy because of how he makes her feel, but yet she doesn’t because it causes her feelings toward him to spiral out of control which in turn makes her hurt.

So she waits. And hopes. And waits some more.  And pretty soon she’ll go off to college and miss her chance, and it’s one big huge suckfest for everyone. Huzzah.

Blergity blerg.


That’s enough for tonight I suppose. I really should start posting pictures. But I don’t want to tonight.

Lyrics, yes?

“I’m a war of head versus heart/And it’s always this way/My head is weak, my heart always speaks/Before I know what it will say.” –“Crooked Teeth” by Death Cab for Cutie 🙂

Thanks for reading my ranting everyone. You guys rock.


Ashlynn 🙂



Yes, that’s right kids. It’s homecoming week. Full of little actual schoolwork, a whole lot of glorious whimsy, and of course, outrageous costumes that would usually warrant a funny look or a trip to the dean on any normal day. The rules are slackened, morale is up, and we actually kind of enjoy going to school for a few days.

This year was indeed better than most, mainly due to the simple fact of my seniority. SENIOR YEAR BABY!!

Meaning today I finally got to parade around in a toga and elicit jealous looks from underclassmen. Muahahahahahaha!

Yesterday was fairly great as well, thanks to Montana Vintage, the fantabulous vintage store downtown. It supplied the perfect little black dress for my Audrey Hepburn getup, not to mention a great little hat and a cigarette holder (if I ever take up smoking, I’m for shiz using that thing. It’s the only classy way to smoke a cigarette, just like the only classy way to do shots is with your pinky out. But now I’m getting off track). Anywho, I’ll be sure to post pictures as soon as possible.

Retro and Togas are done though, and tomorrow is my final high school homecoming day (waaaaaaa! 😦 ). It’s hard to believe that I’m actually a senior, and that I’m never going to go through one of these things here again (unless, of course, I end up teaching at West in some distant future, which is too scary to think about so I’m going to stop before I give myself nightmares).

On a fun note, I got impaled by a butter knife in the elbow today at work. Everything was okay though.

On an ever fun(ner?) note, my eighteenth birthday is this Saturday. YEAH! I can buy tobacco, gamble, register to vote, buy bandanas at Hobby Lobby, finally get the good behind the counter cold medicine from the pharmacy…the possibilities are endless. Plus, as it’s a birthday, there will likely be a gigantic chocolate cake, courtesy of my mum’s magical kitchen/baking powers.

I’ll leave you lovely readers with some Ingrid Michaelson lyrics to keep you going through the next few days.

“Let’s get rich and buy our parents homes in the south of France. Let’s get rich and give everybody nice sweaters and teach them how to dance. Let’s get rich and build a house on a mountain makin’ everybody look like ants, from way up there, you and I, you and I.”


Ashlynn 🙂

Words of Wisdom Before the Zombie Apocalypse

Well hello there, dear blog readers.

My name is Ashlynn, senior in high school, hostess at Famous Daves, grammar snob, and coffee lover extraordinaire. I’m also, obviously, the procrastinator in this bunch of bloggers, as I’ve had this blog post started for at least two weeks and haven’t had the inclination to finish and post it. Huzzah.

A few things about me, before I attempt to wow you with my gloriously mundane views on my gloriously mundane life:

I’m currently reading Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll, and am thoroughly enjoying the feeling of reading a children’s story from the 1800s.

On average, I’d say I drink at least 10 shots of espresso a week. Not including my morning coffee. Yes, I’m that addicted to caffeine, and if I don’t start cutting back I might have to figure out how to start transferring it intravenously through my body.

Jersey Shore might be one of the best shows on television. ‘Nuff said, kids.

My ’89 Pontiac Grand Prix is a temperamental badass. Her name is Jemimah.

The playlist I’m listening to right now includes The Shins, Lady GaGa, and Say Anything doing a cover of the song  “Got Your Money” by Ol’ Dirty Bastard.

Fantastic is a fantastic word.

Normally, I use many more exclamation points in my writing! I’m not sure why I have yet to write a sentence with exclamation points! Good God! It’s almost blasphemy!

And…Well…I suppose that’s the gist of it…

Is it about time to get onto the rest of the blog?

“When you’re only 18, and you’ve got nothin’ to lose,  and your livin’ a dream with the sand in your shoes, falling in love, is easy, it’s easy to do.”

–“Sand in Your Shoes” by This Providence

Yes, This Providence, you can write a fantastic song, but the truth is, falling in love, even when you’re only eighteen, is certainly not easy to do. Why would anyone ever say that it is?

We’re inculcated with the idea of love from our beginning: Disney Princesses, no matter how feministic they are, always manage to end up falling in love with the perfect prince and living happily ever after (even Mulan, and she was a cross-dresser for Christ’s sake). We, as girls, are taught that, to live a fulfilled life, we must find this elusive prince charming in order to find our happily ever after.  As we grow, the media, the movie and music industries, and the modern female young-adult novelist (*ahem*, TWILIGHT!) help us take this budding idea of love as a necessity and nurture it, painting a perfect, untainted vision of what true love is, and causing us as young women to, for lack of a better phrase, fall in love with the idea of love. What girl hasn’t sighed with envy over a movie romance in which the male lead seems to know exactly the right thing to do at the right time? Or a song that professes the undying love of the vocalist for his girl? We crave this kind of altruistic love, the kind that is rarely, if ever, found in the lovely world of reality.

In short, it’s this obsession with finding the perfect relationship that can cause falling in love to be really, truly, irritatingly hard. When someone has so many previously conceived notions about love, they end up being disappointed more often than not with the truth–the perfect, butterfly-inducing moments, coupled with the horribly heartbreaking, oh-my-God-I-will-never-be-happy-again moments–of real-life relationships. Which really, truly sucks for both parties much of the time.

Now, this wasn’t supposed to be a preachy sort of post; this is just something that has bothered me personally for awhile now, even though (or perhaps, because) I am most certainly one of the afflicted, with my affinity for chick flicks and TV shows like Gossip Girl (don’t judge! I can hear you judging through the screen! It’s a good show!!! SERIOUSLY!!!).

Well, that’s basically it. I apologize if this was an incredibly boring post, but my next one will (hopefully) include a bit more humor. Until then, au revior! (Yeah, I don’t really speak French). And remember! Be vigilant! A Zombie Apocalypse could happen ANY DAY!