I have been searching high and low for this stuff ever since then. It's an organic brand, so health food stores and the like should carry it right? Oh no. They carry badger brand hand and foot balm, but no lip balm, and no Highland Mint. I could order it online, but then I'd have to pay shipping and when the sticks are three bucks a pop, I'd rather not. About two weeks ago I was in Sprouts buying toothpaste and there I saw it. Badger Balm Sticks!! I literally ran to the display only to find they did not have the Highland Mint. At that point I decided I would break down and just order the darn stuff online. So yesterday I ran over to Clark's across the street. Clark's is a health food store and carries 99 cent Arizona Ice tea, which by the way, I am addicted to. I got my tea, bought the refill to my facewash, bought some rose scented Witch Hazel, and went to check out. I had searched the toiletries section of the store for that stupid lip balm as I do every time I'm in there. But alas, nothing. So there I am standing in line and an organic raspberry dark chocolate bar was staring at me tauntingly. I told the chocolate to go away and looked up one row as if to let it know it did not have any power over me. And that's when I saw it. It was unmistakable. The green cap, the purple swirly label, the cute little fuzzy creature holding an orb. Could it be? I squealed and grabbed a stick hoping my eyes did not deceive me. They did not. I had finally found my lip balm! I bought the thing and ripped off the seal, opened the cap, and breathed in the smell. Oddly enough I was instantly back to that day of abseiling (repelling). Every time I use it now I'm back there. All I know is that I am delighted to have my lip balm back. I highly recommend it. Your lips are in for a treat.
February 26, 2010
February 25, 2010
Last night Jill hosted a girls night out at BJ's Brewery. (BJ's had the best coffee ever and I am so not kidding about that)It was a ton of fun, and I was thoroughly mocked (in a good way). We laughed, and talked, and had good food, and good drinks, and awkward conversations, and came up with ridiculous inside jokes, and had a really lovely time. I only took a few pictures (while Jill mocked me about how they were all going to end up on the blog) but here they are for your enjoyment.
(Jill, someday I'll actually draw you a graph for dicifering what exactly "this much" really means in Ashley Crushland. It will probably be very large and include a timeline of my phases of stupidity.)
Today I posted some status on facebook about Ke$ha, and was being mocked by someone about said status and I kinda went off on a rant (which of course I will now repeat for all of you).
I have heard of this girl, but hadn't listened to her music, or paid any attention until this morning. This morning I ended up on her website watching her orgasm set to bad electronica and dying inside a little. IT WAS HORRIBLE! Y'know that my smallest complaint was the fact that she can't sing? It's THAT bad. I was horrified. Absolutely horrified.
This is why I have such a huge problem with these major music companies. They are basically running brothels. People think, be a musician and make millions, and that is SOOO not what it is about. It makes me so angry to see this. It's not about your talent or ability or artistry. It's about weather you look good in clubbing clothes and are willing to put yourself on display. This girl represents everything that is wrong with the music industry. And frankly music is not supposed to be an industry. It's an art. You don't see an Artist industry anywhere do you? Or a Dance Industry? And I'm not against industries, or big business, or corporations at all. I believe that everyone has the right to make money and if they want to run a corporation, fine. But music is not a corporation. It's an art and when you corporate an art, you lose the art part of it. That's why musicians start their own recording companies, because they can't own anything that is theirs with the other companies. I love it when I see artist collaborations and there is some note about how So-and-So appears courtesy of _____. not they don't appear courtesy of a company. They appear by courtesy of themselves. They're the ones who are writing the music and performing and yet some company has the right to tell them when and where they can appear? I don't think so. It's MY music. No company has the right to own any of it.
Music isn't about making a million. It's about so much more and these trashy, future rehab dweller "musicians" are ruining all that. I mean Mozart died in poverty. Mozart! And yet Ke$ha, who can't even spell her own name correctly, can lay around in her bling and beer (classiest rhyme ever: "got no money, but I'm already here, got plenty of time, and plenty of beer." Have fun finding a new liver in five years Ke$ha.)? Does anyone else have a problem with this? Is this the legacy of music our generation wants to leave behind? And don't get me wrong, there are alot of popular artists out there who I really like, and respect. Even if they aren't someone who's genre I particularly like, there are many artists who are, golly, artists. They put thought, emotion, and golly, art into their music. But these are the same people who have said that as a musician you cannot be in this for the money, but for the actual craft. It's these fame and fortune seekers who give musicians, and music, a bad name.
Let's be honest, we'd all like to be rich and famous. We'd all like the attention, and the perks. I really have no problem with people honestly saying that's what they want. But if that is what you want then get on a reality TV show. Become a celebutante. Pull a stupid stunt that becomes a nationwide scandal. But don't pretend you are an artist. Don't get involved in an artistic outlet hoping to make millions. Your focus will only ever be on that, and when it doesn't come, you will live a horribly miserable, bitter life. I love music. I love listening to it, performing it, writing it, being surrounded by it, learning about it, feeling it, seeing it, I just love music. If I can make money as a musician, then great. I would love nothing more than to make a living doing what I love the most. But if I never get the opportunity to do that, I'm still going to love my music. My love of my art isn't co-dependant on my wish to make a couple bucks with it. I would be just as happy working in a job during the day and performing at night, as I would be performing full time. I'd love to perform full time, but I don't need to. I love the actual music. So when these stupid twits who write songs about people touching their "junk" and how they are going to brush their teeth with a bottle of Jack, it infuriates me. They are taking something I love so dearly and bastardising it. It's offensive. It's not even music anymore. It's some alcohol diluted, sex infused, cacophony of noise. All I know is that you Ke$ha, are making Mozart roll over in his mass grave. Good thing you probably don't know who he is.
(I felt I needed to compensate for yesterday's three sentence post. I'm all about balance y'know.)
February 24, 2010
AH! I wrote a whole long-ish post on this and the darn thing didn't save!! Here's the gist: Boring outfit, love my hair, would like my hair to decide weather it is red, brown, or auburn, watched Bright Star, loved the movie, going out tonight and very excited! This might be the shortest post in the history of my blog.
February 22, 2010
February 15, 2010
One of their crazy quirks was that we didn't watch television. When I told people this, it actually made jaws drop. We did own a TV, we just only used it for watching movies. And watch movies we did. I have probably one of the best film educations a person could get. We watched movies ALL THE TIME. We had four movie rental places, and at each they knew us well. Long story short, I grew up watching a lot of movies. My dad loves classic films, my mom loves period pieces, Bri and I lived and breathed Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen (and yes I have seen every single fiml they have ever made. Ever.), so there was always a healthy mix of movies coming and going in and out of our house. I realized rather recently how much I was effected by these films growing up. So today I have complied a list of the movies that inspired me the most as a kid- and still continue to inspire me today!
Alice in Wonderland: a little girl, who's curiosity and dreaminess gets her in trouble. Sounds very familiar.
The Secret Garden: In 1993 I got the chicken pox right after my mom finished eading this book to my sisters and I. I subsequently was rented every version of The Secret Garden because I loved it so much. A new version had just been released and everyone thought I was the girl that played Mary Lennox. Best week of my life. Though I honestly do not see the resemblance.
A Little Princess: Yeah, so basically I spent my entire childhood being Sara. I told tall tales a lot. I also secretly dreamed of being forced to be someone's servant and then finding out I was actually incredibly wealthy. Oh yeah, and someday, I will totally own those green shoes.
The Secret of Roan Inish: Duh. No explaination needed here.
And of course:
The Wizard of OZ: My Favourite Movie, and frankly just about the best thing ever.
What movies left a lasting impression on you?
February 13, 2010
February 11, 2010
Dress- Self Made
Crinolin-Vintage via Wasteland in LA
Shoes- Secondhand Nanette Lepour
Oh and can I have a bit of a rant right now? Y'know I fully appreciate that it can be seen as weird to take photographs of yourself to post on the internet. I completely aknowledge that it is an odd thing in this town to see some girl dressed up like a mourning victorian doll/Circus performer/melodramatic silent film star (someone asked me this morning if I'd been inspired by Mrs. Sees of See's Candy?). But that does not mean that you have the right to be rude. So blodies in jeans and hoodies I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't go and get your friends and come out to watch me and point and laugh. And Mr. Macho Cop, it is none of your business who
exactly I am taking pictures of. It's a free country. And dear, dear, gangster boy, I will stop showing my lacy slip when you learn to belt your pants. Okay rant over.
February 10, 2010
Leading up to that trip all I could talk about was going to England. I had long been obsessed with England and Scotland, and since I wasn't going to Scotland, I was sure as heck going to lap up everything about England I could. We spent the first few days of the trip in England, then moved on to Southern Wales. I was in heaven. I was seeing things I'd read about my whole life, things I'd dreamed of seeing someday. I woke up every morning with pure joy in my little heart. I was in England. My family and friends had joked about how the country was not going to live up to my expectations and I would end up hating it. Of course this made me determined to love everything about that trip. And while I did love England, and it did live up to all my hopes and dreams, there were many things about that trip I absolutely hated. Being there was the only thing that made that trip bearable.
As we drove through the various places we went, PJ gave us a history lesson, sang us old Irish tunes, or told us stories in his soothing oratory. While the others slept as we drove, I couldn't. there was too much to see, and hear. I loved everything about being there. My home stay family were so wonderful. They wanted to know everything about us, they brought us to a pub for dinner and bought us cokes and told us about their lives and laughed when I told their son I didn't speak troll because he was mumbling at me. Our home stay mom had gone to school in America and asked us about things that had changed. The next day her best friend came over and we showed them pictures from home and they freaked out about the palm trees and how "lovely" they were. I never wanted to leave.
It wasn't just the people that made me love it. It wasn't just the rain, and lovely gloominess. It wasn't even how heartbreakingly beautiful the whole country was. There was just something in the air, some intangible force that made me love this place so very much. I took the most pictures in Ireland. Everything was a Kodak moment. I remember one day we were driving to the Ailwee caves and as we drove down the road we passed some ancient wall covered in ancient carvings. It was just an instant flash that I saw them, but I wanted to see more I wanted to spend as long as I could there, just looking.
Whenever it get's rainy here, or when I really need a bit of an escape, I go back through my pictures from that trip. Instantly I am back there, the wind swirling my hair in my face. I'd give just about anything (left lung included) to go back. I've wanted to go back since I left. Thinking about that part of my trip makes me smile so widely.
My mom and I were talking a few weeks ago about that trip and some of the things we did and she asked me if I'd like to go back there now, with an older perspective. The answer is of course. And someday I will.
But I promise to pack less jeans and black eyeliner this time.
There are a few more pictures on my flickr here.