GOOD NEWS! After months of lounging about in my house because I'm lazy and couldn't be bothered walking anywhere due to my lack of car and no public transportation stops immediately infront of my house, I have finally paid for a car and it is sitting in my driveway having a gay old time whilst it waits for me to drive it once again this afternoon. So theres that longest sentance in history probably.
Moving on, the heath kick went remarkably wrong! I woke up Monday morning all excited about my fruits that I'd bought the previous day and ate my banana like nobody's business. I threw an apple in my bag and walked out my front door with a bounce in my step excited for my new life ahead. Gathering myself and my father in the car to transport him to the airport we had a few errands to run before we really headed on our way. Right before we entered the highway my lovely father asked what we should do for lunch, to which I responded "I'm not sure, I've only eaten a banana today" as if I was already starving, I continued "and all those errands worked up quite an appetite". Yes, those were my exact words. (I am ashamed) However, being always the optimist we decided to get something when we were closer to the airport so we wouldn't feel like we were in a rush and maybe the epic hunger would sibside slightly. Driving down the freeway I pulled my apple out of my bag and started eating it as if the world was a lovely place. Which is was, until I looked over at my father glaring at me with absolute jealousy because I was master of the food and he had to suffer without any for a whole nother 30minutes at least. I offered him a bite, he refused, his hunger now his own fault and all guilt was relinquished from my being.
Cut a long story short, we ate bangers at mash at a family restaurant which happened to be the most delicious bangers and mash I have ever eaten. That being said, it probably came from my brain thinking it would only ever eat fruit again, which it wouldn't but my body is in a battle with itself constantly, it never really pays attention to what it's supposed to be doing until I kick it's butt and hope for the best after that.
So my Fruit-Fast went poorly. I ate 3 pieces of fruit in the entire week and totally binged on everything I could. So I tried again today, the first thing I ate today was pasta. DANGIT!!
I'll get it eventually. So that still has to be done...
As for the job hunt, it's really boring, and really hard. Why does no one want me. My friend got fired yesterday and has a job interview today, I can't believe his ridiculous luck. WHY NOT ME!?
I shall sit in sorrow and mindlessly hunt for jobs until something finally happens. Also, I found out that the education that I need for my career is $11,000 so that's also bringing me down.
Ever the optimist, I will carry on and I WILL PREVAIL! 1 out of 3, ain't bad.
Until next time,
Ashley xx
Sunday 1 July 2012
Monday 25 June 2012
Lemons & Lemonade
I'm going into the next part of my life kind of blind. I call it the next part of my life because I have three major areas of my life that need to be changed.
1: I need a new car.
This will hopefully be solved in the next few weeks, I talked about my crash in a blog two weeks ago which you can read here and since that fine day I have realised that not having a car means that you have absolutely no choice but to to walk everywhere. This would not normally be a problem except I live in Australia where the weather is either burn-to-a-crisp-as-soon-as-you-go-outside or make-sure-you-are-wearing-every-jacket-you-own-plus-a-blanket-before-leaving-the-house.
So walking is kind of a downer, plus I haven't seen any kind of positive change in my body (maybe because of all the ice-cream and chips & gravy I've been eaing) which brings me to point number 2.
2: I need to get healthy. This week I've already planned what is apparently called a "fruit fast" which is a stupid name because to 'fast' means you don't eat hence breakfast you're breaking the fast but I digress, what this should really be called is a "fruit eat as much as you want(-ast?)". Basically you eat nothing but fruit and it's slightly controlled but all of the instructions say that if you get hungry you should eat a piece of fruit or drink water. I'll also be taking vitamin suppliments just to keep in check. So.. theres that. This plus a boosted up version of my regular exercise should do the trick this week. Then I can go onto a more stable diet which I do enjoy but the expense.. oh the expense. So much money to eat healthy. Which brings me to my next point.
3: I need a new job. This is something that I've felt continuously for a long time now, roughly 5 years. I changed jobs about half way through there but never enjoyed the change. Now that they've cut my hours and started hating on me again I'm ready to leave. Honestly, I need the money and something that doesn't make me feel physically ill everytime I think about it. So applications have been flying out of me like you wouldn't believe. Everything from clothes store retail to office administration to hairdressing apprenticeships (which I would totally own by the way).
This hasn't been a blog so much as a to-do list but I guess what I'm trying to say is that life hasn't really been handing me too many lemons recently, and as much as I hate to realize that, it's made me notice that I've been doing the best that I can, trying harder everyday and hoping for a great result, and that to me is the best tasting lemonade anyone could ever make.
When live gives you lemons, make lemonade.
If life doesn't give you lemons, go get your own lemons and show life who's boss.
Ashley xx
1: I need a new car.
This will hopefully be solved in the next few weeks, I talked about my crash in a blog two weeks ago which you can read here and since that fine day I have realised that not having a car means that you have absolutely no choice but to to walk everywhere. This would not normally be a problem except I live in Australia where the weather is either burn-to-a-crisp-as-soon-as-you-go-outside or make-sure-you-are-wearing-every-jacket-you-own-plus-a-blanket-before-leaving-the-house.
So walking is kind of a downer, plus I haven't seen any kind of positive change in my body (maybe because of all the ice-cream and chips & gravy I've been eaing) which brings me to point number 2.
2: I need to get healthy. This week I've already planned what is apparently called a "fruit fast" which is a stupid name because to 'fast' means you don't eat hence breakfast you're breaking the fast but I digress, what this should really be called is a "fruit eat as much as you want(-ast?)". Basically you eat nothing but fruit and it's slightly controlled but all of the instructions say that if you get hungry you should eat a piece of fruit or drink water. I'll also be taking vitamin suppliments just to keep in check. So.. theres that. This plus a boosted up version of my regular exercise should do the trick this week. Then I can go onto a more stable diet which I do enjoy but the expense.. oh the expense. So much money to eat healthy. Which brings me to my next point.
3: I need a new job. This is something that I've felt continuously for a long time now, roughly 5 years. I changed jobs about half way through there but never enjoyed the change. Now that they've cut my hours and started hating on me again I'm ready to leave. Honestly, I need the money and something that doesn't make me feel physically ill everytime I think about it. So applications have been flying out of me like you wouldn't believe. Everything from clothes store retail to office administration to hairdressing apprenticeships (which I would totally own by the way).
This hasn't been a blog so much as a to-do list but I guess what I'm trying to say is that life hasn't really been handing me too many lemons recently, and as much as I hate to realize that, it's made me notice that I've been doing the best that I can, trying harder everyday and hoping for a great result, and that to me is the best tasting lemonade anyone could ever make.
When live gives you lemons, make lemonade.
If life doesn't give you lemons, go get your own lemons and show life who's boss.
Ashley xx
Tuesday 19 June 2012
Weddings & Worriments
Most commonly in the teen years of our lives we start to question our sexuality. This is because at this point in our lives we are trying to figure out who we are, Yes, most people will tell you that they knew they were straight, lesbian, gay, bisexual, transsexual at an earlier age but then in the LGBTQ community there is that little Q for Questioning at the end that people teens start to wonder about.
I bring this up now because I recently had an experience that got me thinking deeper into my sexuality realising that what I'd known to be true all this time may not be.
So my friend is wonderful, I've known her for just over 15 years and it was her birthday a month ago, she had a lovely party. We started texting each other during the party talking about how we've "fallen in love" with one other and "should get married", next thing I know while I'm sitting at a bar table on my high bar stool (that secretly makes me feel a little bit more important than any other kind of chair or stool does, but I digress) she is down beside me on one knee asking for my hand in marriage. At this point, we were both straight, single females laughing about. But the rest of the night went on and more jokes were passed back and forth, I even went so far as to tweet about my proposal. Twitter was a flutter.
At the end of the night though, we when the party had wound down and the people were leaving we got to talking more in depth about the whole situation and how it almost started to feel real. The "love" the "engagement" and everything thereafter.
It truly did, it felt real, so much so that when I looked at her I couldn't not smile. We even had a mutual friend say that we were pretty much perfect together and would make a great couple.
It got me to thinking, could I be gay or at least bisexual? I've always been into men, not once have I ever questioned that. Yes, I've kissed and girl and no, I didn't like it but on this night I honestly thought that I could be with this woman. It kind of had me worried in a sense that I didn't know who I was and that is not something that I have felt for many, many years.
Maybe this is an ode to my self-proclaimed incredible acting ability? I can act well, I can tell a great lie, not that I do because "honesty is policy" and all, maybe I just got way too into the part of "girlfriend to a great friend". They say "friendship is the base for a good relationship" and "the person you marry should be your best friend" but laying down in bed that night I was in question. I know I've always wanted a husband and my own family, but I also started to ask myself about what our wedding would be like and how we would have children- adoption, donor, etc..
The next morning my feelings had diminished slightly and I was more confident that I was straight. A few days later I was completely back to myself again and had no thoughts of my questionable preferences. Which begs the question "What made me question myself?" Was it that I involved my feelings into the joke too much? Was it her stunner beauty? Or was it just that I'd never really had a situation thrown on me that forced me to question myself like that before?
Either way, I am straight. I will find a man, not a woman, and we shall live happily ever after.
Have you ever been in a situation where you questioned your beliefs of any kind be it sexuality, religion, an opinion on something? If so, let me know in the comments, I'd love to hear it.
Ashley xx
I bring this up now because I recently had an experience that got me thinking deeper into my sexuality realising that what I'd known to be true all this time may not be.
So my friend is wonderful, I've known her for just over 15 years and it was her birthday a month ago, she had a lovely party. We started texting each other during the party talking about how we've "fallen in love" with one other and "should get married", next thing I know while I'm sitting at a bar table on my high bar stool (that secretly makes me feel a little bit more important than any other kind of chair or stool does, but I digress) she is down beside me on one knee asking for my hand in marriage. At this point, we were both straight, single females laughing about. But the rest of the night went on and more jokes were passed back and forth, I even went so far as to tweet about my proposal. Twitter was a flutter.
At the end of the night though, we when the party had wound down and the people were leaving we got to talking more in depth about the whole situation and how it almost started to feel real. The "love" the "engagement" and everything thereafter.
It truly did, it felt real, so much so that when I looked at her I couldn't not smile. We even had a mutual friend say that we were pretty much perfect together and would make a great couple.
It got me to thinking, could I be gay or at least bisexual? I've always been into men, not once have I ever questioned that. Yes, I've kissed and girl and no, I didn't like it but on this night I honestly thought that I could be with this woman. It kind of had me worried in a sense that I didn't know who I was and that is not something that I have felt for many, many years.
Maybe this is an ode to my self-proclaimed incredible acting ability? I can act well, I can tell a great lie, not that I do because "honesty is policy" and all, maybe I just got way too into the part of "girlfriend to a great friend". They say "friendship is the base for a good relationship" and "the person you marry should be your best friend" but laying down in bed that night I was in question. I know I've always wanted a husband and my own family, but I also started to ask myself about what our wedding would be like and how we would have children- adoption, donor, etc..
The next morning my feelings had diminished slightly and I was more confident that I was straight. A few days later I was completely back to myself again and had no thoughts of my questionable preferences. Which begs the question "What made me question myself?" Was it that I involved my feelings into the joke too much? Was it her stunner beauty? Or was it just that I'd never really had a situation thrown on me that forced me to question myself like that before?
Either way, I am straight. I will find a man, not a woman, and we shall live happily ever after.
Have you ever been in a situation where you questioned your beliefs of any kind be it sexuality, religion, an opinion on something? If so, let me know in the comments, I'd love to hear it.
Ashley xx
Monday 11 June 2012
Fate & Fatal Attraction
Our destiny is something that we're not meant to be able to control, I beg to differ. If you make good choices you'll do just fine. While I do believe in fate I still believe in control however sometimes our good choices aren't what we wished for... but sometimes they are. Here's the story of my good choice turned worst thing that ever happened.
So I'm aware that you don't know much about me. I'm the girl who is cautious until you know me, who doesn't take no for an answer and who believes in fate. I'm also the girl who has never once made a New Years Resolution because I'm the girl who loves change while most people cringe toward it so I tend to change my mind (Really though, my parents moved me and my sister around until I was 11. Now I've been living in this house for 10 years and it's kind of cramping my style).
This year though I decided to make a New Years Resolution just to see what the big deal is all about, I was attracted to the glamour of a possible win. Before I go on, let me start by saying that I will NEVER, EVER so long as I live make another NYR if this is the result.
So what was my New Years Resolution to make me hate the whole concept so much? I told myself "New Experiences This Year Ashley! New Experiences. Things you've never tried before. Go out there and do it!" but apparently I didn't word it just correctly. No one ever said anything about that...
Day 1: I invited my friend to stay with my family for a night. Which I NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER do! Oops. I felt like I spent the whole time with him and not with my family. I hate that, especially since the family that I was with I don't get to see ever. Mucked up already.
Day 2: I've always admired the beauty that ice-skaters have while they dance around on the ice so merrily and so signed up for lessons after YEARS of admiration.
Day 3: My friend and I decided to go ice-skating to get in some practise before the first lesson, I didn't feel well but eventually decided to go at the last minute. Shouldn't. Have. Gone! 20 minutes before leaving I ended up slipping, (which I have never done on ice before in my life) I fell backwards on outstretched arms and broke my left wrist. Not just any old break, a complicated inch break, 7.5 weeks in a cast type of break. I've never broken a bone in my life. New experiences huh? So far so good.
The next part didn't suck so much because every January my family gets goes away for a few weeks and I didn't have to work due to the break so I got to go, for the whole time too. I haven't gone since I was 14 so it was really nice to get to spend that time with them.
Months later at the beginning of April I had a bad experience which, believe it or not, I have never had before! My wish coming true like you wouldn't believe!
I FREAKIN' CRASHED MY CAR! Bad situation though I'm lucky to be alive. I never could have expected it to happen, I honestly believed that it never would but apparently it did and now I don't have a car. 80kmph (about 50mph) head on into a cliff, a 540 degree turn, (that's 1.5 360's) and I finally crashed driver's side into a guard rail. Good. I was barely hurt which is hard to believe, just a few bruises and a violent internal seat belt bruise that hurt for a few weeks and I was on my way to a whole new me. Or something like that...
As for my fate, I'm not quite sure yet. But the attraction to the whole NYR thing was way too much for my life to bear, so much so that it nearly cost me mine in a car wreck.
But while I haven't had the best run of luck this year (oh, I also had a giant fall out with one of my best friends so yay to that!) I have still somehow managed to keep my head held high and am still hoping for a better turn out. I'm looking for new jobs, I plan to study again and I joined a dating website after 2.5 years of singledom; but I'll tell you about that one next time.
Until next week, Ashley. xx
So I'm aware that you don't know much about me. I'm the girl who is cautious until you know me, who doesn't take no for an answer and who believes in fate. I'm also the girl who has never once made a New Years Resolution because I'm the girl who loves change while most people cringe toward it so I tend to change my mind (Really though, my parents moved me and my sister around until I was 11. Now I've been living in this house for 10 years and it's kind of cramping my style).
This year though I decided to make a New Years Resolution just to see what the big deal is all about, I was attracted to the glamour of a possible win. Before I go on, let me start by saying that I will NEVER, EVER so long as I live make another NYR if this is the result.
So what was my New Years Resolution to make me hate the whole concept so much? I told myself "New Experiences This Year Ashley! New Experiences. Things you've never tried before. Go out there and do it!" but apparently I didn't word it just correctly. No one ever said anything about that...
Day 1: I invited my friend to stay with my family for a night. Which I NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER do! Oops. I felt like I spent the whole time with him and not with my family. I hate that, especially since the family that I was with I don't get to see ever. Mucked up already.
Day 2: I've always admired the beauty that ice-skaters have while they dance around on the ice so merrily and so signed up for lessons after YEARS of admiration.
Day 3: My friend and I decided to go ice-skating to get in some practise before the first lesson, I didn't feel well but eventually decided to go at the last minute. Shouldn't. Have. Gone! 20 minutes before leaving I ended up slipping, (which I have never done on ice before in my life) I fell backwards on outstretched arms and broke my left wrist. Not just any old break, a complicated inch break, 7.5 weeks in a cast type of break. I've never broken a bone in my life. New experiences huh? So far so good.
The next part didn't suck so much because every January my family gets goes away for a few weeks and I didn't have to work due to the break so I got to go, for the whole time too. I haven't gone since I was 14 so it was really nice to get to spend that time with them.
Months later at the beginning of April I had a bad experience which, believe it or not, I have never had before! My wish coming true like you wouldn't believe!
I FREAKIN' CRASHED MY CAR! Bad situation though I'm lucky to be alive. I never could have expected it to happen, I honestly believed that it never would but apparently it did and now I don't have a car. 80kmph (about 50mph) head on into a cliff, a 540 degree turn, (that's 1.5 360's) and I finally crashed driver's side into a guard rail. Good. I was barely hurt which is hard to believe, just a few bruises and a violent internal seat belt bruise that hurt for a few weeks and I was on my way to a whole new me. Or something like that...
As for my fate, I'm not quite sure yet. But the attraction to the whole NYR thing was way too much for my life to bear, so much so that it nearly cost me mine in a car wreck.
But while I haven't had the best run of luck this year (oh, I also had a giant fall out with one of my best friends so yay to that!) I have still somehow managed to keep my head held high and am still hoping for a better turn out. I'm looking for new jobs, I plan to study again and I joined a dating website after 2.5 years of singledom; but I'll tell you about that one next time.
Until next week, Ashley. xx
Monday 4 June 2012
Conceit & Congnitive Content
As women (and I'm sure this goes for men too) we are continuously told all the ways that we need to improve our minds, bodies and attitudes in order to feel better and attract the opposite sex. While all this is helpful and we've all at one time or another wished we had the perfect butt or abs that are to-die-for, we must at some stage come to terms with the fact that for us regular people with jobs, responsibilities and busier days it's hard to keep up our confidence levels while we're so busy.
I happen to be pretty happy with myself. My body doesn't suck and I've learnt to dress for by body (I'm a size 12-14 in women's Australian sized clothing and stand about 5'4"), I know I'm relatively smart and I know that my maturity levels are high and my mind is continuously stimulated with all of the activities that I keep in my life and I'm more than happy to call myself pretty on a good day; sometimes even beautiful... sometimes! A lot of my friends are guys and they have the ability to make me feel like I really am beautiful and my girl friends tell me I look nice every time I see them. So why is it that as soon as I say "I'm pretty" or "I deserve better" I'm slammed down and called "Conceited" or "Stuck Up"?
The definition of 'Conceited' is "Excessively proud of oneself; vain" also "arrogant" and "vain" can be used to describe it. I feel like the word 'conceited' has all of this bad stigma attached to it and for good reason, people only use it in bad context, same as the word "judgemental" but we'll get to that another day. However I am not excessively proud. I don't tell everyone how beautiful I am and how I could get any man I want because of my beauty, I'm not like that. I just think, standing in front of the mirror, I'm an attractive person. That's not bad at all.
So why is it a bad thing that call myself pretty? Why is bad that I think I'm smart? I feel like this is the opposite response that I should be getting. Of all the media telling me that I'm not skinny enough or that no man wants a woman with huge thighs, should I not be congratulated that I've beat these ideals? I'm confident in my skin and with who I am entirely. This is not to say that I never look at those few inches of fat on my stomach and wish it weren't there, but all-in-all on a day-to-day basis I'm very happy with how I look, how smart I am and how my mind works.
After all of this you can imagine my horror when one of my friends blurted out that "if [I] get over [my] conceit we can be friends".
I purely do not understand how being confident throws me smack dab into the "conceited" category.
So if you're like me and are one of the lucky women or men who are confident in themselves and are proud of who they are as a person, then I congratulate you. It's hard enough to choose a nice top never mind having to think about how it will actually look on you, so well done. You're a winner. You deserve a round of applause for not listening to the haters and getting on with your lives. And for those of you still working on it, focus on the good parts of you, find what you do best and stick to it. You to deserve to feel like a million bucks every day.
Ashley xx
I happen to be pretty happy with myself. My body doesn't suck and I've learnt to dress for by body (I'm a size 12-14 in women's Australian sized clothing and stand about 5'4"), I know I'm relatively smart and I know that my maturity levels are high and my mind is continuously stimulated with all of the activities that I keep in my life and I'm more than happy to call myself pretty on a good day; sometimes even beautiful... sometimes! A lot of my friends are guys and they have the ability to make me feel like I really am beautiful and my girl friends tell me I look nice every time I see them. So why is it that as soon as I say "I'm pretty" or "I deserve better" I'm slammed down and called "Conceited" or "Stuck Up"?
The definition of 'Conceited' is "Excessively proud of oneself; vain" also "arrogant" and "vain" can be used to describe it. I feel like the word 'conceited' has all of this bad stigma attached to it and for good reason, people only use it in bad context, same as the word "judgemental" but we'll get to that another day. However I am not excessively proud. I don't tell everyone how beautiful I am and how I could get any man I want because of my beauty, I'm not like that. I just think, standing in front of the mirror, I'm an attractive person. That's not bad at all.
So why is it a bad thing that call myself pretty? Why is bad that I think I'm smart? I feel like this is the opposite response that I should be getting. Of all the media telling me that I'm not skinny enough or that no man wants a woman with huge thighs, should I not be congratulated that I've beat these ideals? I'm confident in my skin and with who I am entirely. This is not to say that I never look at those few inches of fat on my stomach and wish it weren't there, but all-in-all on a day-to-day basis I'm very happy with how I look, how smart I am and how my mind works.
After all of this you can imagine my horror when one of my friends blurted out that "if [I] get over [my] conceit we can be friends".
I purely do not understand how being confident throws me smack dab into the "conceited" category.
So if you're like me and are one of the lucky women or men who are confident in themselves and are proud of who they are as a person, then I congratulate you. It's hard enough to choose a nice top never mind having to think about how it will actually look on you, so well done. You're a winner. You deserve a round of applause for not listening to the haters and getting on with your lives. And for those of you still working on it, focus on the good parts of you, find what you do best and stick to it. You to deserve to feel like a million bucks every day.
Ashley xx
Monday 28 May 2012
Poems & Performances & Plagiarism?
So I write poetry. I'm cool like that I guess. I've been writing stories since I can remember which seems normal because of school with English class and all but I've always had a weird love for it. I'm always teaching myself new ways to write and I can't get enough of reading other artists' poetry and getting inspired.
When I entered high school I started doing the best work I had ever done. Poetry became a daily occurrence (I assume this was due to my lack of confidence and so much life to talk about) and poetry was my release. Poetry was my way of showing the world that I have a story to tell.
But in the past year I just haven't been motivated and this has irked me like a wedgie.
In July last year my friend was asked to write a song for his friend's wedding. Now this friend of mine, lets call him Darren, was already a self-proclaimed singer/songwriter. Darren can play the guitar. Darren can sing songs. Darren can indeed write a song as it turned out, though Darren was not very good at communication through lyrics in general. So while a few months earlier I'd made the mistake of telling Darren that I write poetry and where he can find it on the Internet (which for those of you who are interested is here) he had read and loved my poetry and asked me to help him write the song for the wedding.
I have to be honest when I say: I laughed in his face, but only briefly before announcing "you realise that my poetry is about death and mostly sadness and taboo topics like teen pregnancy, right?" and when he said "yes" I felt almost immobile and couldn't help but think to myself 'why the heck would anyone want a wedding song that makes them want to cut themselves?' when it occurred to me that it wasn't the content that he claimed to love but the creativity that he'd found within it, which was exactly what my other readers and two contactable "fans" had told me. I was suddenly... excited?
Now I'd written exactly two songs in my life-time of poetry when I was trying to "branch out" I guess, and I gotta say they were BAD! One of them was about love and me writing that was obviously a joke to human kind at that point and the other was a failed attempt at rap? Needless to say I didn't have a great start to my song writing career.
Back to the wedding song, as Darren and I met up and started talking about what the song would contain "things about love, obviously" he played a few chords and sang a few words of what he thought could be the wedding song. While I tried to contain my laughter at his "renaissance of beauty washing over him" or whatever I tried to be supportive and come up with some new ideas.
MONTHS down the line it was two weeks before the wedding and we'd still only written a verse and chorus, this wasn't looking great. We hadn't had time to get together to continue writing and on the times that we did we ended up just chatting and catching up. This was bad. Panic mode set in, I went home and listed to some great love songs and popular wedding songs to try to get inspiration but in true nature to myself I found the most inspiration in a song about a girl who didn't feel like she met the standards of her ex-boyfriend because his new girlfriend seemed so perfect. Awesome Ashley, keep up the good work.
So I started writing a song of my own. All the 'elizabethan love' and 'skies washing down on me' could absolutely not, in any possible way, be fixed. So I turned the page and wrote my own. From the first to last word, every last one of them was my own, from my own head, in my own style, in my own poetic... let's pretend 'brilliance'. I HAD DONE IT! I had come out of my rut, I had written a song and it was actually very, very good. I was proud. So proud in fact that I uploaded it instantly to my deviantArt page.
I took it to Darren a few days later, told him I wrote a song and he decided to put a tune to it even though I already had a very country-pop sort of vibe tune to the song. I didn't like his tune, it wasn't what I wanted. However, knowing that the original song we had started to write was so completely over and terrible, I said he could sing my song at the wedding.
Moving down the track, the wedding went well and earlier this year Darren secured an opening gig for an internationally known Australian-born comedian, which was big news. He invited me as his VIP and I went there to support my friend. Darren didn't show me his set list until the night of and he had decided to play MY SONG! I was gob-smacked, I didn't know what to say, we were friends I couldn't tell him last minute not to sing it, it would ruin the set. During the gig he acknowledged me by saying "I wrote this with my friend Ashley... blah blah". Shock face. Did he just say HE WROTE THIS SONG?
OH NO HE DI'INT!
What the H-E-Double-hockey-sticks is going on here? I wrote that song. Entirely. Alone. At my computer. I have three different versions and a deviantArt page to prove it! I know in the depths of my soul that I, Ashley, wrote that song with not an ounce of help from him. Maybe he inspired me to get me started, but the inspiration doesn't get the credit for the song. Maybe some thanks from the artist but not the credit. Who's giving all of the credit to Adele's ex-boyfriend for all of her "21" Album. NO ONE except Adele. You know why? Because he didn't write it!
I guess what I'm asking is: Is it wrong for Darren to take credit or play the song without my permission? Or is it okay because he wrote his version of the music and thought it was his too?
Sorry for the long post, I just really needed to fit in the details. For those interested you can read the song here.
Ashley xx
When I entered high school I started doing the best work I had ever done. Poetry became a daily occurrence (I assume this was due to my lack of confidence and so much life to talk about) and poetry was my release. Poetry was my way of showing the world that I have a story to tell.
But in the past year I just haven't been motivated and this has irked me like a wedgie.
In July last year my friend was asked to write a song for his friend's wedding. Now this friend of mine, lets call him Darren, was already a self-proclaimed singer/songwriter. Darren can play the guitar. Darren can sing songs. Darren can indeed write a song as it turned out, though Darren was not very good at communication through lyrics in general. So while a few months earlier I'd made the mistake of telling Darren that I write poetry and where he can find it on the Internet (which for those of you who are interested is here) he had read and loved my poetry and asked me to help him write the song for the wedding.
I have to be honest when I say: I laughed in his face, but only briefly before announcing "you realise that my poetry is about death and mostly sadness and taboo topics like teen pregnancy, right?" and when he said "yes" I felt almost immobile and couldn't help but think to myself 'why the heck would anyone want a wedding song that makes them want to cut themselves?' when it occurred to me that it wasn't the content that he claimed to love but the creativity that he'd found within it, which was exactly what my other readers and two contactable "fans" had told me. I was suddenly... excited?
Now I'd written exactly two songs in my life-time of poetry when I was trying to "branch out" I guess, and I gotta say they were BAD! One of them was about love and me writing that was obviously a joke to human kind at that point and the other was a failed attempt at rap? Needless to say I didn't have a great start to my song writing career.
Back to the wedding song, as Darren and I met up and started talking about what the song would contain "things about love, obviously" he played a few chords and sang a few words of what he thought could be the wedding song. While I tried to contain my laughter at his "renaissance of beauty washing over him" or whatever I tried to be supportive and come up with some new ideas.
MONTHS down the line it was two weeks before the wedding and we'd still only written a verse and chorus, this wasn't looking great. We hadn't had time to get together to continue writing and on the times that we did we ended up just chatting and catching up. This was bad. Panic mode set in, I went home and listed to some great love songs and popular wedding songs to try to get inspiration but in true nature to myself I found the most inspiration in a song about a girl who didn't feel like she met the standards of her ex-boyfriend because his new girlfriend seemed so perfect. Awesome Ashley, keep up the good work.
So I started writing a song of my own. All the 'elizabethan love' and 'skies washing down on me' could absolutely not, in any possible way, be fixed. So I turned the page and wrote my own. From the first to last word, every last one of them was my own, from my own head, in my own style, in my own poetic... let's pretend 'brilliance'. I HAD DONE IT! I had come out of my rut, I had written a song and it was actually very, very good. I was proud. So proud in fact that I uploaded it instantly to my deviantArt page.
I took it to Darren a few days later, told him I wrote a song and he decided to put a tune to it even though I already had a very country-pop sort of vibe tune to the song. I didn't like his tune, it wasn't what I wanted. However, knowing that the original song we had started to write was so completely over and terrible, I said he could sing my song at the wedding.
Moving down the track, the wedding went well and earlier this year Darren secured an opening gig for an internationally known Australian-born comedian, which was big news. He invited me as his VIP and I went there to support my friend. Darren didn't show me his set list until the night of and he had decided to play MY SONG! I was gob-smacked, I didn't know what to say, we were friends I couldn't tell him last minute not to sing it, it would ruin the set. During the gig he acknowledged me by saying "I wrote this with my friend Ashley... blah blah". Shock face. Did he just say HE WROTE THIS SONG?
OH NO HE DI'INT!
What the H-E-Double-hockey-sticks is going on here? I wrote that song. Entirely. Alone. At my computer. I have three different versions and a deviantArt page to prove it! I know in the depths of my soul that I, Ashley, wrote that song with not an ounce of help from him. Maybe he inspired me to get me started, but the inspiration doesn't get the credit for the song. Maybe some thanks from the artist but not the credit. Who's giving all of the credit to Adele's ex-boyfriend for all of her "21" Album. NO ONE except Adele. You know why? Because he didn't write it!
I guess what I'm asking is: Is it wrong for Darren to take credit or play the song without my permission? Or is it okay because he wrote his version of the music and thought it was his too?
Sorry for the long post, I just really needed to fit in the details. For those interested you can read the song here.
Ashley xx
Monday 14 May 2012
Life Is Like A Movie
My name is Ashley.
I am 21 years old.
I like giraffes. A lot. From the depths of my soul.
I am odd, I am funny and I am rarely witty but I get by.
My friends have previously told me that my life is like a movie, things always happening, the story continuously evolving but my personal belief is that I couldn't possibly sum up my life thus far in any 90 minute time slot. I would have to condense my world way too much and it's the little details that are way to important to be left out. If I ever did want to announce my life in video form it would need to be on television in some kind of sitcom where the leading lady is life smart but quite gullible, well balanced but not very graceful and her world appears normal until you look into the depths of her daily life to which you find nothing is quite as it seems, as with everything else in this world, and then someone like Morgan Freeman would come along in the 9th hour and tell her that everything will be okay when the uplifting mission music comes on, she rises up from her abyss which people may call a beige lounge chair and looks off into the distance as she snaps up her bright blue trenchcoat and walks out the door to forever live the life she'd alw- too much Ashley.
So anyway,
Here will be my life, follow along I decifer adulthood, the man paradigm, what it means to be educated and the theories of every day routine and hassle.
I hope you enjoy.
Signed,
Ashley.
I am 21 years old.
I like giraffes. A lot. From the depths of my soul.
I am odd, I am funny and I am rarely witty but I get by.
My friends have previously told me that my life is like a movie, things always happening, the story continuously evolving but my personal belief is that I couldn't possibly sum up my life thus far in any 90 minute time slot. I would have to condense my world way too much and it's the little details that are way to important to be left out. If I ever did want to announce my life in video form it would need to be on television in some kind of sitcom where the leading lady is life smart but quite gullible, well balanced but not very graceful and her world appears normal until you look into the depths of her daily life to which you find nothing is quite as it seems, as with everything else in this world, and then someone like Morgan Freeman would come along in the 9th hour and tell her that everything will be okay when the uplifting mission music comes on, she rises up from her abyss which people may call a beige lounge chair and looks off into the distance as she snaps up her bright blue trenchcoat and walks out the door to forever live the life she'd alw- too much Ashley.
So anyway,
Here will be my life, follow along I decifer adulthood, the man paradigm, what it means to be educated and the theories of every day routine and hassle.
I hope you enjoy.
Signed,
Ashley.
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