True Story











{May 25, 2011}   Sorry. It could be fine

True Story:  Well, it could be…

“Sorry, it could be fine,” is G Monkey’s latest phrase and answer whenever I say, “please be careful”.

Examples:

1) Me:  Monkey please stop jumping around with that knife in your hand.

G Monkey:  Sorry. It could be fine.

Me:  Yes, it could be. But it could also be tragic. Do you like stitches and needles?

2) Me:  Please don’t stuff that much food in your mouth.

G Monkey:  Sorry. It could be fine.

3) Me:  You don’t need to pee outside every time the dog does.

G Monkey:  Sorry, it could be fine.

Once again I think this is a wonderful phrase to adopt in my life.

Examples:

1)  Officer:  Ma’am, do you know why I pulled you over?

Me:  Sorry. It could be fine.

2)  Doctor:  Ashley, you are just coming in now???

Me:  Sorry. It could be fine.

3)  Me:  Oh, I forgot to tell you guys, I got married again.

Family:  What?!?!

Me:  Sorry, it could be fine.

True Story:  It really could be fine you guys. Take a hint from the unabashedly, wonderfully, ignorant and hopeful.  Think positively. It could be fine.



{May 16, 2011}   Life

True Story:  Took Over!

Friends, Fans, so sorry I have neglected my silly life stories.

Since January I have gone to at least  1 film festival a month, sold a bunch of dang real estate, an unexpected move, oh yeah, and that kid I got.

But I promise I have made lots of memories along the way to blog about. Please stay tuned and spread the word.

In the mean time I am posting oldies but goodies on my Facebook page. Please like the page if you haven’t already.

http://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/pages/Ashleys-True-Story/190122361008030

Yours forever,

True Story:  My new place doesn’t have a dishwasher… WTF???



{March 29, 2011}   Vistitors and Vacations

True Story:  Sorry I haven’t blogged lately.

I got taken out by a kid with a stomach bug, a Mom visit and a sister visit with 2 younguns.

Yaouzaahhh…

Lessons Learned:

1) Kids with stomach bugs suck.

I said it. I will shout it from the roof tops. It’s no fun… I don’t care who you are, cleaning diarrhea is not cool. (Hey, you never know what people are in to).

But more importantly, how empathetic you feel for the little fella is worse… God strike me down. Just please don’t let my baby feel wretched anymore.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: There is no point in cleaning your house before three 3 and unders get there. All you are doing is cleaning the base for the new dirt. It’s like burning yourself for the first time each summer and calling it a “base coat”.

In the first 24 hours my nephew peed in my bed and my niece pooped in my yard and dragged it into the house. Good thing I had a clean “base” on the floor for the new poopy.

It is not a vacation for my sister and I. We wrangle children, try to keep them alive with food,  videos, sunscreen, videos, not drowning, videos, treats, and videos… Until they finally fall asleep somewhere around 9pm.

Then we pound wine on the deck pretending we want to stay up and talk and catch up, but we know deep down that we have to go to sleep so we can do the above mentioned activities again starting at 6am the next day.

When you live at the beach, in the warm months, you have a lot more “family” and “friends” than usual. Naturally, they assume you are “on vacation” like them. If you live at the beach you must live permanently on vaca, right? Not so much. For proof, read this blog from the beginning.

So it sucks when you have to do actual work when you family and friends visit. First of all you are jealous of their ability to lolly-gag and goof off (drink beer on the beach) when you have responsibilities.

2nd, you feel guilty for missing work opportunities when you lolly-gag with them (which you will inevitably due, because hello? Drinking beer on the beach is a lot more fun than work).

3rd, time with family, friends, and the children in my life is precious.

True Story:  I am taking a real vacation next week to Ashland, OR, to screen Prairie Love. There will still be Oregon winery wine pounding, but much more relaxing this time.



{March 12, 2011}   My Style

True Story:  I don’t really have much.

Never have. I try to look good, really. But sometimes it doesn’t work out so well.

I feel like with every fashion fad out there, I’ve always just been a little bit off…

I will wear what everyone else has on, or fix my hair in the style of the day. Yet for some reason I am never complimented, and often looked at by other women with their heads cocked to the side in a “hhhmmm fashion”.

Examples:

When everyone was wearing teased bangs, my aunt asked me why I had a puff-ball on top of my head.

When everyone was wearing the boys button-downs and rugby shirts, all the girls looked sporty and cute. I looked like… Well, an actual boy I think. Despite the DDs.

I stomp around painfully in high heels for 5 minutes until I eventually kick them off to go barefoot. Other women glide in them all night.

Mini skirts, skinny jeans, tunics and leggings, bomber jackets, giant hoop earrings, orange and hot pink, bell bottoms… Who can keep up?

And now… Jeggings.

Should I have been surprised when several people asked to be my stylist when they found out my film was going to Sundance, and I would be hob- nobbing with celebs for 2 weeks? Not really.

I tried to pull off the boots and jeggings out there, but when I look back at the pictures I can’t figure out where I went wrong.

In high school I once wore turquoise pants and a pink and white striped button down. I thought it looked good, right?

It is still a source of entertainment for my girlfriends, 15 years later.

I tried one of those cute sweater dresses over leggings in Park City. My Mom walks in the room and says, “Women like us shouldn’t wear those”.

I’m told, “Don’t wear your clothes too tight Ashley. Makes you look fat”. “Where fitted clothes Ashley, or you’ll look fat”.

Every time I see someone who hasn’t seen me in 2 weeks,  they think I’ve lost weight when I haven’t; and every time I am in a swim-suit in front of people they say, “You’re smaller than I remember”.

I can only conclude that when people think of  “Ashley”, they think large, un-stylish woman.

As of recently, my stylish sister with the cute online boutique over at www.blairlouise.com offered to make my blog cuter.

I give up.

True Story:  I think, at least during the warm months, I am just going naked. That way my clothes won’t be too tight or too loose, and people won’t forget my size.



{March 2, 2011}   Diets

True Story:  I’ve tried everything…

When will I be thin enough? Good enough?

My friend and I came up with the perfect diet:

Take a shot of hot sauce on your tongue… Let it settle…

It makes it seem like you have had a great Mexican dinner…

Then, you smoke a cigarette…

You’re done. Your tummy and mouth feel like you have had a good meal.

True Story:  Do not share this with your anorexic friends.



{February 23, 2011}   I know… Be Nice

True Story:  3 year olds are geniuses.

If you even remotely scold G Monkey or ask him if he pooped his pants, his response is, “I know… Be nice”.

I am not sure who taught him that if he would just be “nice” everything else would go away, including dirty undies.

Once again, I have decided to adopt the 3-year-old mindset.

Examples:

1)  If I ram somebody’s car with mine:  Drive away while yelling “I know… Be nice”.

2)  Girl:  You are flirting with my man.

Me:  I know… Be nice…

Walk away.

3)  Bank Teller:  You are overdrawn.

Me:  I know… Be nice… 

Drive away.

True Story: 

Mommy:  Quit all that. I’m tired of listening to it.

G Monkey:  But Mommy… I got my whine-nies….

I think this could apply to many areas of my life as well.



{February 18, 2011}   You Can’t Make it Up

True Story:  I write non-fiction, autobiographical stories because Truth is most definitely stranger than fiction.

Example:  If I were to make up a story about a crazy football fan that poisoned 150 year old trees on a college campus because he hated trees so much? Schools? Football players? I don’t know. I haven’t decided that part of the story yet.

You wouldn’t believe me. You would say, “That’s stupid. No one would do that. It doesn’t even make any sense”.

True Story:  Last night I went to hear an amazing blues singer with a voice like butter that plays a mad mouth harp. In the last couple of months he had part of one leg amputated, and the bar manager had checked him out of Rehab for the night to play for us. She had to have him back by midnight.



{February 6, 2011}   Poopy and Turtles

True Story:  A grown woman should probably not dream about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Yet, I did. Which is strange because I never watched the show and it’s been 20 years since I’ve seen one. So, why was my dream the other night filled with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?

Thoughts?

True Story:  Still potty training.

So with Mommy and Daddy out of town for 2 weeks at Sundance, G Monkey regressed a little bit with the Nanny and all of the changes he was experiencing.

He still is just too busy to stop and go to the potty for #2. He has videos to watch, animals and trains to play with. There is just no time in the day for excretion and personal hygiene.

So yesterday, I noticed that he needed to go. I grabbed him and put him on the potty.

We had a talk: You’re going to be 4 this year; no more poopy the pants; Mommy’s going to start taking videos away; you know better; I’ll pause your program while you go, yada yada…

Plop.

Me:  Yea G Monkey! I am so proud of you. You are such a big boy. Give me high-five…. You know what? I am so proud, I think I am going to give you a prize.

G Monkey:  That’s a great idea Mommy. I wonder what it should be? What do you think?

True Story:  I think these kids are on to us…



{February 4, 2011}   Excerpts from Sundance

True Story:  I just spent 12 nights in Park City, UT. The following are excerpts from this trip:

The hot tub was really cool the first couple of nights, then it went out of style, and then came back in style at the end of our stay.

Hot tubs make me puffy.

It takes 4 days to acclimate from sea level to 8,000 feet.

During strip poker only one guy got down to his compass. No, you dirty birds. He actually wears a compass around his neck under his clothes.

I had 9 people sleeping in my bedroom on at least 1 night.

“Everybody snores, but you take it to a whole new level. You’re sleeping in the closet”.

“Hey, James Franco and Scorses’ daughter just walked in at sat on the front row of your premier”.

The buses are free.

“Text me where you land on Main Street”.

“Well, we’re drunk again”.

“Can someone call somebody and see what we are supposed to be doing”.

“Has anybody seen my…”

“Who did you see today”?     “Danny Glover”.     “Cool”.

$213 for a Doctor to write me a scrip for an antibiotic for a bacterial infection probably caught from the hot tub… No out-of-state insurance allowed.

Again, I don’t think there is anything wrong with this country’s health care system… Sarcasm raining.

“Cheers to Prairie Love”!     “TO PRAIRIE LOVE”!!!

On the plane ride over, Ex-Pump is reading aloud to me from Entertainment weekly:

Ex-Pump:  The Hang Over 2 set was so hot and miserable that all types of “douche-baggery” ensued.

Me:  What? Douche-baggery? Let me see that.

I look over his shoulder to read.

Me:  It’s “debauchery”

True Story:  Douche-baggery was the theme of the festival. Anytime anyone was acting up, they were causing lots of douche-baggery.



{January 15, 2011}   Meet the Artist

True Story:  Ex-Pump really committed to the “junk shot”.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qOqviVecTuI&feature=youtube_gdata_player



et cetera