Babies rhymes with rabies..coincidence? I think not.

I hate babies. I realize this statement alone is enough to enable an almost immediate judgement on the likelihood that I am in fact, heartless. However, take your judgement elsewhere because I once got teary-eyed during the movie 'Armageddon' circa 1998, so I do have a heart, Liv Tyler can bear witness. The point is, babies on the whole are not my thing. I generally disapprove of dependence, lack of bladder control as well as the inability to speak, (apologies to any mutes or those who suffer from overactive bladders who may be reading) and let's face it, that's three strikes right up front for babies.

It really isn't that I'm heartless, calloused, or completely selfish. I know as well as the next person, that I too was once baby, and needed my parents to selflessly devote every waking moment to making sure my neck was properly held as well as try and decipher what exactly it was that I, with a freshly changed diaper, formula laced stomach, and squeaky caterpillar toy, could POSSIBLY need during a never ending crying fit. I even thank them for their ability to maintain a seemingly sane exterior during the time of my 'infancy' or what I like to refer to as, 'imapaininEVERYONESass-cy.' But alas, I just don't think I could do it.

The 'cute' factor that so many are blinded by when it comes to babies, doesn't fool me for a second. Which leads me to my final point, I've long suspected Anne Geddes to be the Anti-Christ.

The Death of 'That Girl'

For the past 2 years of my life I have been haunted by the omnipresence of ‘That Girl.’ In the drunken stuper that was my freshmen year of college, I invented a character so outrageous that with the very MENTION of her name, hours upon hours of shit talking ensued. With the help of Candice and Melissa, every minute detail of an idea that came to affectionately be referred to as ‘that girl’ began. In short, (because let’s face it, I could spend days detailing every aspect of her personality) ‘that girl’ represents every negative characteristic, tendency, and action associated with a typical ‘girl’. From clinginess and insecurity, to ignorance and superficiality, ‘that girl’ embodied everything I was against. She represented everything I prided myself on NOT being and with every new day, new standards of anti-that girl precautions were taken.

First invented as a means to provide entertainment and witty banter, the notion of ‘that girl’ quickly developed into something much more than just an idea, it became a way of life. Now of course by ‘way of life’ I am referring to a life lived in complete opposition to that of ‘that girl.’ Yes, what I am suggesting is awaking each and every morning to the looming fear of committing the cardinal sin I myself, had invented; being ‘that girl.’

I became obsessed with ascertaining the anti-that girl lifestyle. From every outfit I selected to every sentence I spoke, no decision was made without first considering whether or not I was in any way mirroring, her. It was exhausting, with each ‘that girl’ blunder I committed, the more and more determined I was to eliminate even the very existence of her from my life. It was challenging at first not to care or expel even the slightest hint of frustration when token [boy] failed to call as promised, but honestly, why give him the satisfaction of knowing I’m upset, it’s something ‘that girl’ would do. Right after she spent 3 hours crying about how he must not love her.

Twisted anecdotes aside, for 2 years of my life, I conditioned myself to believe that above all, masking my emotions was my main concern. And even now as I type it, I feel a twinge of disdain for the word ‘emotion.’ It’s so terribly cliché. EVERY girl talks about her emotions, right?

The point is, I’m wrong. While I still believe that being ‘that girl’ really should be a legitimate concern for all women, I have come to recognize that she is not the bane of my existence. From the wise words of a friend and a boyfriend, I am beginning to process that not only is ‘that girl’ more real in my own head than she is in anyone else’s, I actually have a right to behave like her sometimes. It’s absurd to believe that I could ever BE her, but as a woman, it is my prerogative to act like a crazy bitch and have everyone love me regardless. Life isn’t supposed to be lived under the stipulations of ‘common behavior’ that are impossible to follow 100% of the time. You live, you love, you learn; mistakes made along the way are good story material. So here’s to you, ‘that girl’ we had some good times, and I’ll probably continue to talk crazy shit about you, but if I slip from time to time and cry during ‘The Notebook’ life. will. go. on.

Lend me your ears

Friends, Romans, Countrymen,


The day has finally come. After months of secretly wanting a medium with which to express my most brilliant thoughts and revolutionizing epiphanies, I have acted. I have taken the giant leap of faith into the mysterious, infinite abyss of web logging, or a more colloquial term, 'blogging'. I'm finished listening to the voices of disapproval echoing in my head warning against the evils of 'blogs'. I'm done trying to please the masses with my assimilation. Do I know what struggles lie ahead? You bet I do. Creating a blog is not done arbitrarily, and trust me, it is with much solidarity that I, Caroline Ashmore, christen this blog. Thank you.