Anything can happen if you use your imagination...

I am horrible at time management. Really horrible. I've known that I'm leaving tomorrow morning (Thursday) and not coming back until Monday (Labor Day) and what did I do? I put off packing until 11:00 tonight. Ugh. It's done though. And now I should go to bed. But instead I will tell you about the make believe games I played as a child.

I have 6 brothers and sisters who made for great playmates. However the games that stick out most in my mind involved the four oldest of us. Brandon, Kaley, Brittany and me. Brittany and I are 5 years apart so the four of us are very close in age. I realized today that all of our games were based on either a TV show or a movie. Isn't that nice.

1. The Independence Day Game. When I was in 2nd or 3rd grade we went through a stage where every day we'd pull out the couch bed in the living room and watch a movie. It was usually Independence Day, though I don't know why. Then we made up a game where one person sat in the middle of the bed and the other people (the aliens) would get under the bed and beat on the bottom of the bed with our feet (which was probably not good for the bed now that I think about it). The beating would hopefully make the person bounce around on top and therefore put them within range for one of the aliens to grab them from underneath.

2. Power Rangers. This was around the same time as the first game. I was always Kimberly, the pink ranger. Brandon was always Jason, the red ranger and the leader. Kaley was always Billy, the blue ranger (who, incidentally, was a boy...). Brittany always wanted to be Kimberly, but we'd tell her she either had to be Trini, the yellow ranger (who, coincidentally, was Asian), or she could be the monster that we had to fight. Most of the time she'd give in and be Trini, but sometimes she'd just get mad and say she wasn't playing. She'd go to another corner of the yard to play by herself and we'd just pretend she was the monster anyway and attack her. We jumped around, kicked at each other, and leaped off the swingset. Every time we'd hit the ground we knew to roll about 10 feet because that's what they did on the show.

3. Street Kids. This came from us watching Free Willy every day. And this was when I was probably in 5th grade. Maybe 6th. There wasn't much to this game. We'd just get empty backpacks and put crackers and stuff in them, sling them over one shoulder, and ride our bikes around. We'd always pretend we stole a cake, then we'd put pretend ketchup on it, then the cops would come and we'd have to scram. And someone always pretended to step in the cake as we ran away.

4. Orphanage. My favorite. This came from watching Annie. The land we lived on at the time was surrounded by 5 or six rows of pine trees. We'd get in there and rake the pine straw in such a way that we created pathways and rooms with it.That was our orphanage. We each had our own room. Every time we played, we'd have a new kid (usually Kaley), the cop that brings the new kid (who would double as another orphan - Brittany), the seen-it-all-knows-it-all kid who's been there forever (Brandon), the lady who runs the orphanage (me), and the drunken cook (also me). Oh yes, I would make their food and accidentally spill alcohol into it. I don't know where I got that from.

Sounds like fun, huh?


Southern comfort.

A lady at work today paid me a high, albeit odd, compliment. Well, I wouldn't say it was a compliment. It was more of a comment that just made me feel good. When I go get a patient to take them to whatever test I'm about to do with them, I introduce myself first. "My name's Ashlee and we're just gonna go get this OCT done" or something along those lines.

Well today when I introduced myself to one woman, she said, "Your name is Ashlee? Well isn't that a nice southern name!"

That just made me SO HAPPY. I love being southern. I love the south. I love that it's obvious to northern folk that I'm from the south. And I love that a woman said my name is southern! I mean I know the truth: my name is not a southern name. It's Old English. But hey, I guess people associate my name with Ashley Wilkes, the man Scarlett O'Hara fancied herself in love with in Gone with the Wind. (Clarification: I don't think she was ever in love with Ashley, just in love with the thought of being in love with him.)

Also I'm glad someone didn't comment on my southern name because it's something like Ella Mae or Bobby Ann.


I apologize in advance.


I know, I know, all of your mouths are gaping in shock, but it's true. I keep hearing about how Michael Phelps is so hot and his swimmer's body is just so amazing. But I was watching him the other night when he got his 8th gold medal and I saw him on the news this morning. I've seen him before, but I guess I just didn't really take notice of whether or not he's cute. He's not. His torso is freakishly long, he has big ears, his mouth is humongous (and he always seems to have it open), and the top of his body is bigger than the bottom half. I will say he has nice abs. But they lie to close to his speedo and then I just get turned off again.

So snap those jaws shut and move on with your lives.

But hey, congrats on those medals, Mikey. And on the whole world record thing. Lord knows I couldn't do it. Good job on proving you don't have to be pretty to be an Olympic Gold Medalist. (Should those words be capitalized? *shoulder shrug* Whatever. I just dissed Michael Phelps so rage will distract them from noticing such things.)


What's love got to do with it?

Who the hell made up the game of tennis?

My brother Elijah is obsessed with the game of tennis. Months ago he attempted to explain the rules and scoring of the game but I was completely lost after "when you have a score of zero, then it's love." Huh?

This past weekend I went and watched Elijah play two sets... or is it matches... I don't know, he played against two different people and each time someone had to win six games two out of three times. Does that even make sense? It barely does in my head.

Anyway, I at least learned the scoring part of it. But I still don't understand why it is the way it is. My conclusion? Out of all the games involving a ball, tennis was the last one invented. By the time Mr. Tennis got around to coming up with a new ball game, all the rules and scoring had been used. So he had to come up with something completely crazy in order not to sound like a knock off of another already-invented game. Well way to make up a game that makes ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE, Mr. Tennis.

Here's what does make sense:
1. Two players (raqueteers?) use a raquet to hit a ball over a net.
2. If the ball goes out of the big square, it's out and the other player scores.
3. You have to win by two.
4. When you serve, it must go to the opposite square on the other side (this one's a little iffy since it sounds like a random rule thrown in there for the heck of it).

Here's what doesn't make sense:
1. The scoring is not normal in that it goes 1, 2, 3, etc. Or even in twos or fives or tens. It's completely random in that it goes from zero to 15 to 30 to 40. And then that's it.
2. When it's zero, you can't even call it zero. You call it love. What?
3. When it's tied, you don't say 15-15, but you say 15-All. Ok.
4. When it's tied at forty, you don't even say 40-All. You say Deuce.
5. After Deuce, there are no numbers anymore. Since you have to win by two... point units... then depending on who gets the next point, you call it an Add In or an Add Out. Then if the opposite person scores the next time, you're back to calling it Deuce.

Are you lost yet? If you're not then you at least like tennis enough to know how to follow it or you are related to someone who makes you feel obligated to know what's going on.

Of course, this is all coming from a person who grew up in a football-loving family but never learned the scoring until her senior year of high school. I didn't have the faintest idea about first downs until someone kindly clued me at a HOCO game. The only football terms I knew were "touchdown," "field goal," and "go Jackets."


Guilty as charged.

Everyone has little guilty pleasures that they indulge themselves in every now and then. I know I have mine. Lately I have overindulged a little. Wanna hear about them?

1. Girls Next Door. You know, the TV show on E! with Hef and his three girlfriends? Holly, Bridget, and Kendra? I LOVE this show (much to the disappointment of Colby). It's kind of like watching a train wreck - I sit there cracking up at their idiocy and thinking the whole time how the HELL do they live like that?? Aside from the fact that Hef is pushing 100, I can't imagine sharing my boyfriend of any age with another woman, let alone two. And half the time his ex-girlfriends are coming in and out of the house too. Oh and poor Kendra, who has to be number 3. Every time the four of them are sitting or standing together somewhere, Bridget and Holly flank Hef while Kendra gets stuck on the other side of Bridget. Now tell me, how can you not love this show?

2. Trashy romance novels. I like them as trashy as they can get. Don't get me wrong, I love the nice normal novels by people like Jodi Picoult and Colby Marshall. But sometimes I just have to deviate and read one of the trashiest novels about love and romance I can get my hands on. It doesn't last for long since after a while you feel like you're reading the same story over and over again, but for a while there they are great.

3. Cemetaries. I know right? And not just at Halloween. I find cemetaries so peaceful (gee, I wonder why?) and so very INTERESTING. In college I took a local history class where we went all around Milledgeville and learned a lot of history (obviously). When we went to the cemetary I was just fascinated by the stories that went with it. And it was historically interesting too because there were a few famous people buried there. I don't know why, but I just love going and reading the headstones and looking at the crazy statues.

Those are the three major guilty pleasures off the top of my head. I'm sure there are more though.