Poop is funny. Do you ever think about it? Sometimes I weigh myself before, just to see. I mean, a pound of poop?! How much food does that constitute? I know some food takes longer to digest than others, and some food you use more of, so you expel less. I wonder if there's a graph somewhere to help me out.

Some of zha's paintings are underneath my bed. One in particular. He and Rebecca slept on it while it was in process. It was on display at the AOA space where and when Matt hung himself. So much death around that painting. I think I'll sleep on the couch tonight.

As I have mentioned before, I hate winter. But this has been the best January weather I can imagine. Today I went to work without a coat. It was in the upper 60s. When I left work in the dark at 5 after 9, it was 57 degrees F. This is the absolute best!!! So everyone, I encourage you to stand outside with your aerosol cans and DESTROY THAT OZONE!!! It feels like April outside. How many more times can I express my love for this warmth? And I just got home from a good, yet short, conversation with my friend. I wish we could have stayed up all night talking, but I am tired and have a full day ahead of me. I start my water aerobics class at the Vandalia Rec Center, which I am highly excited about. But my mind is spinning from our conversation. He has changed the way I think about certain things. It's all about necessity. If we all cut out things in our lives that were not absolutely necessary for our survival or evolution, I think we'd all be a lot happier. He developed this program that I really can't go into for various reasons, but it spawned an incredibly interesting dialogue. About artificial life. About capitalism and evolution. About people and why we choose to interact with them. And I am so thankful that I have this person in my life who I can talk with about these major philosophical mechanisms. And yet I feel like he's ruined me for all other guys. But that's okay. Maybe I just need to go to my Mensa meetings.

So this morning around 7, Mr. Klippity-Klop is upstairs getting ready for work, or training for the olympic high jump team. And he wakes me up. Now, his apartment is laid out exactly like mine, so his bedroom is above me. All of the sudden I hear this tremendous crash, like he fell off the bed and pulled things down on him. And he yells, "OH...GOD!" Do I call 911? Do I go upstairs to see if he's okay? I decided to do the less intrusive "stay in bed and listen intently." Evenutually he started moving and got into the shower. But that seriously scared me. Other than the morning when I heard someone say, "You could have beat her to death," this is the strangest thing that has come from Mystery Man thus far.

I think I had pneumonia a couple of weeks ago. I still have a bit of a cough. And I kind of wonder if Foxy Boy got sick. But I don't want to ask him. I mean, we've spoken once since that night, and it was about business-related issues. Then he called me that evening--didn't leave a message. So I'm left wondering what the call was about. And I can't figure out what it is about him. We have so very little in common, and most of the time I feel like a 50 yr old trapped in a (now) 24 yr old body. I don't like bars. I barely drink. I don't want to date a smoker (even though I'm not quite sure if he is one). And he's a typical college kid. Not that he's young, just has different ideas about what is fun. He would get bored with me, I think. I like to talk about the future, about medical advances. The only real conversation we've had was about movies. Which is fine, but I wonder if we could get into anything deep. How do you feel about the death penalty? What are your views of god? I think I'm intrigued. By this person that I've only had a physical relationship with. I want to see if there could (have been?) anything more. I feel that I already know the answer, but want actual proof. I mean, sometimes he surprised me. So maybe I'm not giving him enough credit. Maybe we really could hang out here and watch forensic science on MSNBC. Maybe not. But I just want to know. What is it that draws us to each other time and again? Is it purely physical? I'd like to think not, but I'm not going to kid myself about it. I know that happens. I'd like to spend some time with him just hanging out. Actually getting to know him. And maybe that would be that. But maybe we'd develop an actual friendship. And spend actual non-party time together. Not looking for anything more. Just want to see. Just curious. And there's someone who I think is interested in me, but I just want to hang out. How do you tell someone you're not attracted to them without hurting his feelings? He's fun and I really enjoy our time together, but don't want it to get complicated. And I'm superconcious of my actions around him, not wanting to get into that awkward moment of please-god-don't-try-to-kiss-me. But maybe I'm reading things wrong. Maybe he isn't interested and I'm just overreacting. Maybe tae-bo will have the answers.

And OHMYGOD!!! It's 12:30 in the morning...do you have to jump everywhere you want to go?!? There is no need to try to break through my ceiling on your way to the bathroom! (Says the girl who is about to work out)

OK, starting your own business is not as easy as I thought. Thursday I had a meeting with the small business administration, and that went well. Apparently I will not be making any money, however, seeing as all of it will go to the governmental department of THE MAN. I have to pay self employment tax, sales tax, there's a fee to register my business name, some other fees for vendors licenses, a fee because I'm right handed. Well, you get the point. But I'm very excited. zha came over last week and we moved almost all of his art that was residing at other residences into my apartment. We catalogued and organized a lot. It was a very productive day. Next Thursday will be much the same. And at some point (meaning within the next two mornings--that's the only time I have off of work), I need to start contacting people to get shows set up for him. I don't really want to rent a gallery space, so I'm hoping to sell most of the art through these shows. When I move to LA, I'll probably get a space, but I'd like to save as much as I can for that so I don't have to take out a business loan. Which is a whole other can of worms. This whole endeavor is going to be incredibly difficult, especially since I work full time. I don't have as much time as I'd like to devote. But I did drop my class. Which was an incredibly hard decision. I mean, I loved it last quarter. And if I had the same teacher, I'd be willing to do all of this at the same time. But I had a woman who wasn't teaching us anything. Last Tuesday we were supposed to have a test over unit 5. We hadn't even touched unit 5. So, I needed to remove unnecessary items from my plate, and the signing class was first to go. Which actually does free up more time to devote to my art dealings.

Last night I saw The Laramie Project at WSU. It was very good. Chuck Derry, my acting for film/tv prof, was the director. And the directing was fabulous. Actually, the whole show was damn good. It's just that last winter, our modern class did monologues from the show and whenever someone on stage spoke, I was putting my classmates in their place. Distracting. Then Tosh, Anna, zha, Jesse, and I met at the OE, and came back to my place to socialize. Jesse had to leave for his llama farm by 6 am. I just like to type llama. But he really does work with llamas. (hehe) Enough. So Anna stayed the night (she was in town from Wooster/Mansfield) and left today to hang out with Kristin. (more people I graduated with) When we were at the OE, zha decided that Tosha and I were going out. Which is funny, because a few hours earlier, I was thinking about how we interacted with each other. We call to chat even when there's nothing to talk about. We ask how each other's day went, even if we read about it online. We usually talk right before we go to bed, sort of a tucking-in thing. So I can see where he was coming from.

And I don't think the guy upstairs is the same one who's been above me since I first moved in. Once, over the summer, I was at work and Paul was here, and he mentioned that he thought the guy above me was moving out. I never asked why, was there a moving van, etc. I actually never even thought about it. But I myself never saw anything. Then, a few weeks after Paul said something, it sounded like they were building a new apt. Which may have been them cleaning up the place and installing new kitchen stuff, etc. Plus I was gone for two weeks in December, so someone could have easily moved in without me knowing it. Anybutt, why do I think this is not the same neighbor, even though I've never met anyone in the three other apartments around me? Because this guy is LOUD. And not just with the sex (which was just the one time, and then a second when they actually woke me up in the middle of the night), he also walks around in lead boots. And drops heavy objects. And rearranges his furniture often. And talks on the phone. And plays music. The other guy just watched Nascar races every once in a while. I feel like the downstairs neighbor on Friends. This morning, when Upstairs Guy was moving stuff around, I had to suppress the urge to knock on his door and ask if he needed any help.

It is my birthday today. I am 24.

After one year, one month, and three weeks of living in this apartment, the guy above me finally got laid.

Had an enjoyable weekend. I haven't been social in a while, so I decided to drop by Lorianne's when she called with an invite. I didn't want to be out late--still getting over a nasty cough--so I called Tosh to have her call me in 30 mins. She then invited me to a bowling ally where a bunch of people from WSU I haven't seen in a while would be. So I thought I'd drop by there for a bit, too. Adrienne was at LA's, which was fun 'cause I haven't seen her in too long. Foxy Boy was there as well. Yeah, I know, I gave that up. But good god is he yummy. I'm really done this time, though. Anywhore, I ended up having a better time than I thought, so after the bowling ally trip, I made my way back to LA's. Which turned out to be a ball, because Caroline (who moved back to Florida today) and Pete (who is a hottie physicist) were there. At four in the morning, it was me, Foxy Boy, Skinner, and Blue Eyes (you should have seen them...unreal). I ended up getting three hours of napping that night. And the next day was zha's b-day. He finished his book, which he gave to me to read, and we went out to Uno's for dinner. Quite enjoyable. Then watched Moulin Rouge afterwards. Sunday I spend with my parents and had a great time. Opened a birthday present a little early (I'm not until the 23rd), but my dad insisted. It was a gorgeous glass chess set, which I played a game on with zha later that evening. Then I read his book until 3 in the morning. It was kind of scary, so sleeping for the next week will be fun. Let me just say something about zha now. I don't think I'll ever find someone who will have the conversations with me that I have with him. We went from talking about the possibility of cellular regeneration by mind control to the pros and cons of the Pentax K1000. Yes, I am a dork. But I do have an interesting question to pose about mortality and how it relates to organ transplants. Ask me sometime, I'd love to hear an intelligent answer, or debate, or argument. Hmmm.

I was pooped all day at work, but did get some good reading done. We're in the slow season, so instead of losing my mind, I've decided to read. The Hobbit is what I'm currently working on. Adrienne and I were going to get together tonight, but she got out of work about 2 hours later than expected, and I really do need sleep. I'm currently going to finish my dishes whilst listening to the Swing Kids soundtrack, and then go to bed. Class tomorrow, with a teacher I'm less than excited about. But, let me just say how PROUD I am of Tosha!!! Not only did she get the LensCrafters commercial (quality glasses in about an hour), but she also has an audition for a feature film tomorrow at 3:30. So think good thoughts!!

"There's been an explosion and fire near the Kettering Tower." How near? Where exactly?? I need to know. MY DAD WORKS THERE. I call and get only his voice mail. My mom doesn't even know anything happened. He resigned Sunday, and only has a couple more weeks left. After twenty some odd years of working, nothing happens until the end. If he's hurt...god, I'm so scared. "Dick just called. The building's been evacuated. No injuries were reported." Thank god. There was smoke everywhere. Fire underneath. In the tunnels. An explosion large enough to blow man-hole covers out of the street. Roads are blocked off. I drove home from work on the highway, circling the city. Couldn't go through--too much traffic. And all of downtown is lit up, save one building. The tallest. No office lights, nothing. It's black shadow stands out against the city. There's a red flashing light on top to warn low-flying planes of its existence. It looks odd, floating above the rest. He's okay. My parents are going shopping. Everything's fine. But, jesus, I was scared.

It's two in the morning and I have to be at work at 10, which means I have to leave by 9:30, which means I have to be up no later than 9:15 (I'm very low maintenance). So why am I still up? Well, I made the New Years Resolution to work out and get in better shape. Which I am not going to break until at least February. I came home from work and thought, I'll just watch my taped Thursday night shows during commercial breaks of ER. That worked out well. But I still needed to Tae Bo. But late night tv--which I never watch--was interesting, so I didn't get going until an hour ago. So now all of my tv is watched and I'm brand clean. It always sucks to work out after you've been a sloth for a few months. Last summer I was really into it for a while, and could go much farther on the tape than I can now. Plus I'm still sick, so in the middle of each punch, I cough. It made for an interesting work out. Now, I must say, Thursday night tv was exceptionally good tonight. Friends was FINALLY not a re-run. And it was damn funny. I laughed out loud a few times. Joey and Rachel had a great date. Will and Grace had this one line so good I wrote it down. Hey people, don't judge. So their friend comes over to borrow this coffee urn for a big party he's throwing. As he's leaving, Will says, "Happy Moulin Rouge coming out on DVD." Why is this funny? Because I had a freakin' count down to the day that DVD came out. ER was fabulous as always. So much good acting. And great writing.

I also can't stop thinking about that book. I keep wanting to start conversations with people about this great new movie I saw, but I then remember it was a book. MC wrote it with time restrictions. I mean, talk about a page turner. They had 37 hours until a battery or something of their time machine ran out. So instead of chapter titles, it's just different times during the count down. There were two chapters that were only a page long, so the times were printed at the top, but the pages were facing. I had to put my hand over the right side of the book so I wouldn't skip ahead. And there were many times when I actually squealed, it was so intense. I'm not proud of that last one. Damn, what a good book.

So the entertainment gods have been good to me. Great books, great tv, I live in the LOTR fantasy world. Life is pleasant.

Well, my site was going to look different tonight, but apparently Blogger is doing some work and I can't access my html. This does not make me happy. Folks (and by Folks, I mean Person Who Runs Blogger), if you're going to have some web based thing that a lot of people use, please, and I mean PLEASE, either have a test machine that you run your changes on, then upload all of the good stuff at once, or (because some people only have one computer (I am one of those people(because I have no use for a test machine))) do your changes in the middle of the night, not during one of the highest traffic hours of the day. OK, ranting and raving complete.

So, what did I do today?, you may ask yourself. Well, I'll tell ya. (for those of you stalking me, this would be a good time to grab a pen (or a pencil, if that's your fancy(or any type of writing implement)) and a piece of paper to make an entry in your "Stalking Ashley" journal) The day started out with me attempting to read my book. I have the top picture with the title outside of the helmet. I like that one better. My dad gave it to me for Christmas, which we celebrate Christmas Eve. So I opened the book, was very excited, then he asked if it was okay for me to leave it with him to read first. Which made me laugh. But I left it, knowing that it would be a while before I got to it. And last night was when I got to it. I was feeling pretty crappy (still coughing a lot). Actually, let me tell you about last night. I have this nasty cough. The past two mornings I have spent an hour hacking stuff up. Not pretty. My cough was pretty bad at work. I would be handling a camera, trying to sell it to a customer, then turn my head and cough (hehe, I'm a girl, and that sentence is funny to me. Fine, I'm a dumb girl) into my hand, and turn back around to the customer. It got so bad that at one point I asked Jason to take over so I could heave up my lung in the bathroom. Which I almost did. So he let me leave work 45 mins early. And I started this book. (still coughing)(have to turn my head away from the computer so I don't get spittle on my lovely laptop)(have now gotten up to get my giant jug of water)(have stopped coughing (for the moment), but will soon have to pee) It's really good. Except for this ridiculous bit of exposition and a cheesy line. My favorite time period is Middle Ages, which is when most of this book takes place. So, I don't want to put it down, but I'm really sick. So I read until 2 in the morning. Then go to bed. Then get up and start reading again. I was supposed to visit Martha today, but I'm still sick, and didn't want to get her and the baby sick again (they were just getting over it). Which I felt bad about, because the baby is making Martha lose her mind. And I love Martha's mind, and would hate for it to be lost. Back to the morning. When I first got up, I spent about an hour making frequent trips to the bathroom to spit out the chunky phlegm I had just coughed up. And by frequent I mean about every other page. It was quite annoying. So I made some hot tea and drank a lot of water, and that seemed to help. Which is why, earlier, I said, "attempting to read my book." At one point I get a call from Click asking if I could come in to work. No, I could not. One of the girls called off with the "flu". Now, I love this girl, but suspect that she was not sick. I also know that I could be wrong. Well, hopefully someone came in to cover her shift.

I finished the 450 page book around four, after making myself a meal of toast with butter and peanut butter, and bacon. I took a shower and didn't turn on the device that sucks all of the humidity out, which helped with the hacking. Then I picked up zha and went to India Palace to have dinner with Tosh, Caroline, and Ben. It was a nice, low-key dinner. I still coughed, but at least I wasn't self conscious of handing them back a germ-infested camera. I mean, would you want to buy something from someone who sounded like they were going to die? I wouldn't. Dinner was great, but I wasn't ready to go home yet. I mean, I had spent the entire day in bed, let's go do something. But nothing that involved much movement. I still feel crummy, let us remember that. So zha and I go to the coffehouse and I play on their nice T1 lines and download something that was taking way too damn long on my pathetic 57k modem. Or is it 56k? Who cares? It's slow. So now I am back home, getting ready to go to bed. I have class in the morning, then work until 9 or so tomorrow night.

Now, my class. Last quarter I absolutely loved my ASL class. This quarter, not so much. As of Friday, they didn't have anyone to teach the class. So I show up Tuesday, and the woman who is teaching it was 30 minutes late. Which was fine with me, because I was 15 minutes late. The class was supposed to be in Building 10, but it was moved to Building 9. No one was told, there was just a note written on the chalkboard of the empty room. Now, you would think that, seeing as how 10 comes directly after 9 when dealing with whole numbers, the buildings would also be located near each other. Well, no, not on the Sinclair Community College campus. They are a ten minute speed-walk apart. So I was late. The teacher. She's profoundly deaf. Which is usually fine. My teacher last quarter was deaf and didn't speak. If she needed to communicate, she wrote on the board. A bit tedious, but we didn't know any sign at all. It was the first course. Mary Ann Barth. I love her. She was so cool. She didn't grow up deaf, like this new teacher (whose name I don't even know. Joyce something). She eventually went deaf, which is sad, seeing as she was a music major and traveled in a band for a long time (reasons why she went deaf)(plus it ran in the family plus she had scarlet fever as a kid). But she was very easy to understand. I learned a ton of stuff and loved every minute of it. This new teacher. Her fingers are fat and I think she has arthritis, because her fingers are also slightly misshapen. She signs like, how can I put this? OK, say you are just learning to speak Spanish from a teacher who grew up in Spain. You first want to hear the proper pronunciation of the words before you get into local dialects. But your teacher forgets that you can only say, "My name is...I live in...I drive/walk/ride a bike/take the bus to school", and said teacher talks way too fast and isn't conscious of pronunciation. That's what this lady is like. I learned "teach" as a sign made up by your head. She did it near her stomach. Fine. If you're fluent in the language, or are at least more than a beginner. But it took me a while to figure out what she was doing. And other students weren't so lucky. About half had no idea what the hell was going on. And neither did Joyce. She hadn't even looked over the syllabus. So I think this quarter, anything I learn will have to be on my own.

Enough. I am going to go to bed now. Sweet dreams, all.

Much excitement!!! I'm officially representing zha's artwork. Tomorrow I call the Better Business Bureau to figure out what I need to do legal-wise. Do I need a vendor's license? Etc. Then I'm going to get him a show in Cincinnati, and we'll go from there. I really love his art, and I really love people. I'm in sales now, and I started last year at Victoria's Secret. Nothing big. I just helped people figure out what kind of lotion or perfume they needed. But I really liked interacting with them. And I'm good at it. Some would hand me their credit cards and leave everything completely in my hands. I would never be able to have a desk job somewhere. And so this is perfect for me! I'll get to schmooze with the cool kids (who have money), and do something I really enjoy. And if this takes off, I'll have a very handsome California fund, which, I know, will ease my dad's mind. My parents love me, but are very nervous for my trip across the country to try to "make it" as an actress. They would be much happier knowing I had a nice nest egg under my belt. Plus I could sell his stuff out there. Do you realize how much needless money is in Hollywood?? People take their pets to Pet Spas. I kid you not. It would also be nice to be able to quit Click! and sell art full time. Good god, and pay off my credit card bill. But mainly I'm excited about meeting people, taking them out to dinner, and selling the work of one of the most important people in my life. So if you want any of his stuff, feel free to contact me.

Just got back from seeing Lord of the Rings for the second time. Still good. I love fantasy films. I grew up on them. Labyrinth, Legend, Dark Crystal, and of course, The Neverending Story. To name a few. And I would love to do one. I have a few ideas for stories from reoccurring dreams. But if I could pick my perfect future, a fantasy film would be the first role I had in Hollywood. And I wouldn't be some prissy princess. I would be the leader of an army. A fighter. Hey, I'm certified in rapier and rapier-and-daggar combat. I have to use it somewhere. And Legolas (who has become my favorite character) is an archer. Wow. There this one scene where he fires three arrows right in a row. And I thought of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. The way he handled the bow and arrow...like they were an extension of himself...made me think of that movie. Especially the fight between the two women and the weapons. That is not choreography you learn in a few months. That's a lifetime of training. I have so much respect for stuff like that. So much. Anywho, I recommend LOTR if you have an extra three hours laying around and you don't know what to do with them. And I will be borrowing the books from the library within the week. Hey, any movie that gets kids to read makes me happy. I remember reading The Hobbit in middle school. So I was familiar with the background history and some of the characters. But when I saw the movie, I realized how much I liked the book, and how much of it I had forgotten. So I'm going back to re-read it, and read the trilogy for the first time. Good film, good effects, good fighting. Great ending. That's the way trilogies should end.

It's the heavy eyelids. It's the tightness in the back of your mouth. It's the coughing of phlegm. It's not being able to concentrate on anything. It's the cloudy feeling in your head. It's the detachment from your body. It's being aware of the place where your nose opens into your throat. It's shivering uncontrollably. It's not being hungry when you should. It's achy muscles. It's muffled hearing. It's the dizziness. It's the runny nose. It's wanting nothing more than to be tucked in under your new down comforter. It's knowing that you're getting sick.

I should be asleep. I should have worked out tonight. But instead I sat in bed talking on the phone eating burnt bacon from my Forman Grill, toast, and juice. Now I'm watching late night tv at 1:30 in the morning, with an aim to get up in 6 1/2 hours. I should really be asleep.

I remember sitting at the table. I remember the vast space between the lace and the cloth. I remember thinking the picture will be fun. I remember the Christmas tree. I remember the stairs and the air conditioner. I remember tucking my head. I remember the surprisingly blue bathroom. I remember Ernie and Karen. I remember washing my face. I remember fairy pools of bubbles. I remember laughing so hard. I remember the fox boy. I remember "I'll be right with you!!" I remember you, the interpreter. I remember your 40 foot long arms. I remember pink tile. I remember glaciers. I remember, "You look sad." I remember my oak tree crying. I remember touching your foot. I remember holding you. I remember the smell of your tears. I remember going downstairs. I remember the order of things to do. I remember "Secret Garden". No, silly, not the musical. I remember Legolas and elves that live forever. I remember monkey smells. I remember va-va-vanilla. I remember chess boards. I remember the gift of water, and the drinking. I remember the kitties. I remember you touching my foot. And I understood. I remember yawning. I remember the tea. I remember writing. I remember the flowered bathroom with the mirror. I remember watching the ball drop. I remember giving you my favorite hair tie. I remember your sister's room. I remember finally finding Ruby. I remember the fortress and the chocolate. I remember being so happy and so sad at the same time. For the first time in five years I was getting to know you, and you have to leave.

Ahh, my friend, I remember everything.