For a pretty large portion of my 26th summer here on earth, I have been a free bird, just roamin’ around doin’ whatever it is that I feel like doing. There have been two reactions when people hear that I haven’t worked for a month this summer… The first is usually “oh my gosh, I wish I had time off.” The second is “How could you EVER do that?!” I have cycled through both and am currently lying in a pool of “I am slightly bored, SOS.” which is really just pretty selfish.

You see, I only ever worked at a big girl job during the summer during one summer… and during that summer I used all 21 days of my PTO and had to wait about 5 months for it to be renewed. (oops) So, having a free summer wasn’t really even a long time coming or a new thing to me, but I knew that it was necessary before I embark on what is supposedly three of the most exhausting years of your twenties. Exhausting, but worth it. (I should clarify that.) {p.s. if you haven’t heard, which you probably have, I am going to work for K-Life Ministries as the Women’s Staff in Columbia… aka my life is about to be ruled by college, high school, and junior high girls and I could not be more pumped about it.}

During these 4 weeks of unemployment I have learned several things:

1. I have to force myself to shower. Maybe this shouldn’t be listed first, but it’s the most important. If you are a potential male suitor please know that I will gladly change this habit asap if need be.

2. When you have all of these plans to “deep clean” your house, it becomes the last thing you actually want to do. It sounded better to tell people who were gawking at me having a month off that “I have so many house projects to do.” rather than “Dude, I’m goin’ to the pool everyday lets be honest.”

3. When you have all day to go to the pool when it’s 106 degrees out for a month straight, you actually can find any excuse to not go. This is totally opposite of what I thought I knew to be true. The thought of going to the pool somedays was almost like me going and sitting on my stove with all 4 burners on high… terrifying.

4. This summer was a bad summer to have zero television connection in my house as the Olympics are about the best thing to ever happen in 2012. I’m not even a hipster, I’m just really cheap and don’t want to pay for DirecTV (mainly because their customer service sucks really bad and I think paying $100 for 75 channels is stupid.)

5. I am no better at sitting in 3 hour long movies than I was before. Me sitting still is also agitated by the fact that I am supposedly not allowed to laugh out loud, cough, make any kind of noise, or ask questions during the movie…

6. My daily schedule pretty much revolves around food, working out, reading, and more food. This is pretty much awesome and my idea of a good time.

7. I still am not a huge fan of talking on the phone or driving on the highway. But I am a fan of twitter (but please don’t abuse this… I really only like sarcastic/funny/cool people on twitter), texting, and emoticons.

8. I believe I was called to marry Ryan Lochte…. so all you chicks who think they’ve got it goin’ on and RL is their soulmate… lookout. I have been watching women’s water polo and learning from their vicious and brutal tactics and I am not afraid to dunk you like a boss.

9. Speaking of boss… the book of James is insanely packed with truths that are rocking my world via Beth Moore’s study “Mercy Triumphs”… if you want to be challenged, convicted, encouraged, and blown away by Scripture, I’d highly recommend this study! I also hope to one day be like Beth Moore… fashion and all y’all.

10. On another serious note: I am pretty blessed to be in this place of life. Although I’ve had my “moments”, one thing has stuck out in my mind the most during these past 3ish weeks… I am completely and utterly humbled to be able to live out such an exciting calling. I’m really stoked for what’s next and the people that I get to come into contact with. As I left my last job (which was pretty dang awesome too) I was so encouraged by the love that was sent my way and the encouragement that people think that I am “made for this”. Everything becomes more and more beautiful with time… thank God.

So, here is to good things ending and even better things to come!

Cheers! (with some club soda)
AG

So it’d be cool if I could just be consistent in blogging, right? Why. Is. It. So. HARD.?!?! I mean there are few things I’m fairly consistent at:

1. Loving ice cream/froyo/smoothies. Those can all be bundled into one.

2. Pinterest’ing. Yes… it’s an adjective.

3. Sounding like Jay Z when I rap.

4. Hating burpees. And yes, I mean HATE. It is a strong word.

5. Replying with “I don’t have cable!!!” whenever someone asks if I watch a certain show.

Blogging? It’s a different story… I’ve always thought that in order to  be a good blogger you have to pick one subject and stick to that. Most of my favorite blogs are house/diy OR fitness/nutrition. Most don’t blend them all into one. The other blogs that I read are either hilariously funny and make me check back regularly or are mom blogs and I want to poke my eyes out after seeing every single picture of their baby… {not that babies aren’t cute. But I don’t need to see you potty training… leave some things up to the imagination internetz.}

With that being said… I’m not going to pick just one subject and I am going to work harder at being more consistent by choosing subjects that I’m feelin’ that day. Ya with me?!

Now… Ready. Set. GOOOOOOOO.

Today’s subject = the fact that no matter what I do,
I will never not have thighs that rub together.

Ladies, are ya with me? Boiz, tune out if you want or read further so you can actually understand what we go through for like .5 seconds every second.

Lately I have been catching up with So You Think You Can Dance… gimme a HOLLA if you’re a fan. Those people have moves that I have never seen but then I try and practice them in my hall mirror to see if I can even look 1% that cool… usually I don’t even look .1% that cool. The problem is not how fantastic the show is, but the fact that when I am watching ballerinas float around in spandex for 3 episodes in a row of SYTYCD (aka 6 hours) I somehow think that I look like that even though my thighs rub together and you can put a book in between theirs. i don’t get it.

Now, this is not a “I feel so bad for myself” post. This is a WAKEUP AG, NO ONE IN THE POPULATION OF REAL WORLD AMERICA LOOKS GOOD IN SPANDEX WHY ARE YOU EVEN TEMPTED BY THIS. 

Another disclaimer: I would never actually wear spandex shorts in public, only in the privacy of my own home or my family members homes or maybe to Walmart on a Friday night because everyone there does it and it’s acceptable to look like a hot mess.

I found myself on Sunday night looking into the mirror while brushing my teeth {possibly doing some pop and lock moves} in my purple spandex shorts of glory and thinking… “yeah. let’s keep those babies under dresses and as pajamas. this is not a cute look for anyone whose name is not Sasha Fierce. But the bonus of these amazing purple spandex is that you cannot actually FEEL your legs viciously rubbing together trying to start a fire under your dress.” Again, I’m okay with it.

So there you have it folks… the harsh reality that spandex shorts are not your friend unless you dance or have bangin legs and your booty is actually pointing to heaven and then it’s fine or if you play volleyball and you’re forced to do it then it’s cool too.

… because who doesn’t think that’s hott?!…

Spandex leggings? That’s another story. I’d be lost without em.

Love ya Like Spandex,
AG

This weekend has been really good for my soul… sometimes you just need to step back from the chaos that is life and do things that make it seem a bit less chaotic. I have expressed to numerous people as well as to blogworld how bad I am at cooking… it was about 2 years ago that I signed up for the disaster that was Cake Making 101. A little over a year ago I was living life as a bachelorette with zero desire to grocery shop or cook… except for the one time I got bored with life and decided I wanted to gain the pounds I am now trying to lose by making cookies and berry crisp.

All that to say… my track record is TERRIBLE. I’ve basically gotten by somehow but I’m not sure how so don’t ask. 

The past few weeks that I’ve lived alone I have basically lived in my kitchen… for reasons unknown to me I have been cooking and baking up a storm. AND GET THIS. I haven’t poisoned myself or anyone else, people are asking for my recipes, and I think I kinda like this newfound hobby. Although my recipes are fairly basic, they work for me and within my nutrition goals and budget.

So… this week I’m going to invite you into The Little Green House’s kitchen to see what’s cookin up in here! Please don’t expect anything crazy… #1: I don’t even own a camera {well, I do, but I can’t find the battery charger…}. #2: I think my 11 year old cousin could probably make this stuff. #3: I basically eat meat and vegetables… gluten free {basically} and pretty much paleo-ish is what works for me. #4: I find things I like on Pinterest, blogs, or friends, and tweak it… so you may have seen this before. Like I said… don’t expect anything Cray Cray!

Standby folks. This week’s menu is pretty stellar: 
- Veggie packed Meatloaf with Free Range Organic Beef with my favorite Coleslaw Salad
- Spicy Honey Mustard Pecan Chicken with baked Avocado fries
- Peppered Salmon with Garlic Parmesan Edamame
- Sauteed Pesto Chicken/Veggie amazingness
- Spicy Turkey Burgers with avocado honey mayo and baked asparagus fries

annnnnd I may throw in a favorite dessert of mine that will have you slap your momma because you can’t believe how many calories aren’t in it… just sayin. 

back in a jiff…
ag 

This blogpost is dedicated to any and all gym goers in the United States of America. 

I have been frequenting the gym a lot in the past 5 and a half months mainly because of my New Years Resolution being taped and aired on the news… But it wasn’t until yesterday that I had my first REAL problem. 

I was minding my own beeswax on the treadmill with the TV attached to it due to cancelling my cable at my house and only being able to watch HGTV at the gym… yes, I do go watch House Hounters, First Time Buyers, Million Dollar Rooms, and all my other obsession HGTV shows on the treadmill or bike for HOURS. 2 birds. One stone. This is a post for another day.

Back to the story… minding my biz on the ‘mill when Miss Tan America Barbie comes bouncing up to the treadmill next to mine. Now, I have seen and been around these girls before AND I have Jesus in my heart but this was a whole new experience. 

Picture a not as pretty version of The Bachelorette, Emily Maynard, in Nike head to toe with a bumpit in her hair, some kind of a spray tan that had glitter in it (I’m assuming this is a new feature Mattel is advertising), copious amounts of hairspray and perfume, and at least 10-15 lbs of eyeliner. What the what?! 

My biz was interrupted and I was immediately choking on all the elements that were preventing pure oxygen from entering into my tender lungs. THANK THE GOOD LORD ABOVE that the treadmill was broken and she had to go somewhere else where I could watch her run like a gazelle with her poof not even moving…. oh wait, I wasn’t thankful for that. I was infuriated so I had to tweet about it… because isn’t that what you do when you want to talk about someone behind their back and they’re not on twitter?! {i’m joking mema.}

Immediately after Barbie graced my presence, a man who could’ve doubled as Arnold Schwarzenegger came over to the same broken treadmill. Now… I know I could’ve definitely said something like “Hey Mr. Governor, but the thang is broken.” but I’m sick and think it’s hilarious seeing people try to work a broken piece of workout equipment. IT’S NOT LIKE ANYONE WAS GETTING HURT OKAY?! lay off me. 

Arnold was POUNDING on the screen to get it to work until he finally looked over at me and mouthed something that looked like “What the ****?!” Not sure what the asterisks represented as I had Househunters blasting in one ear and Nelly in the other… yes. I had 2 sets of earphones in. I can’t be tamed. I just shrugged and giggled mainly because I thought I was suddenly transplanted in New Jersey where only guido’s and Barbies workout.

All that to say… ladies, get on my level. Wear an ugly t-shirt that you got for free from your work with your hair going in one million directions and your purple tennis shoes and two sets of earphones blasting your eardrums out. Because really, you look ridiculous with a bumpit in your hair regardless of where you are in the world, gym or not. 

Here’s to coughing up some glitter. 
ag 

It’s in my opinion that after college you have to experience about a million and five different things before you find what it is that you were truly “meant for”… for most of us. I was not one of those girls that knew she wanted to be a teacher at the age of 10, a doctor (that was halted when I realized math and science were involved & I peaced out on that dream), or a corporate executive. That was never me. EVER.

Since college I have been in a graduate program, started my own event planning company in another town than I’m in currently, a nanny, a homeschool teacher, an assistant to the CEO of a company, an assistant to a Project Manager at the same company, and now a general ole office assistant who sorts mail, hauls boxes, and keeps the office working so other people can work.

Let me say right here and now that this is in ZERO way bashing any of those jobs, companies, people, etc. DON’T GET IT TWISTED. Buuuut. None of those things are my “dream job”. Opening, sorting, and delivering mail for 7 hours on a Monday? Not ideal. But, at 25 going on 26 you learn to deal with it and you do it in order to have all Apple products and spray tan every Thursday. {disclaimer#2: i have said in haste that I’d never buy another apple product again but that was a big fat lie from Satan himself and I’m sorry that I uttered them. Also, yes, I spray tan, and no I don’t look like Snooki.}

this was me on Monday after doing Saturday mail which was 2 boxes and during Monday mail which was 3 boxes… happy camper!

Lately, when I tell “adults” what I’m doing with my life and where I’m going with it, people have started asking me, “Well, Ash… what’s goin’ on? What’s your dream job? What’s your passion?!” And to be honest I think I’ve given a different answer to each and every person that’s asked me just to keep the world on their toes… I like to think that my life is like a less horrendous and brutal Hunger Games and I’m being filmed on my own reality TV show at all times.

All that to say… ultimately, my dream job is to be a stay at home friend. Yes, you read it right. A stay at home friend. That way, I don’t have to deal with the kids aspect of being the oh so cliche “stay at home mom” and all that comes with it… I don’t have to be on point for my husband at all times… AND last but not least I get to choose my friends. Sooooo this seems like a huge Win Win situ, y’all.

So, who needs my resume for this? I’ll be happy to send it your way. You know you want this as your stay at home friend. I’m good at drinking margaritas and laughing.

cinco de busby… i like to move it move it!

**** stop reading here if you don’t like to be vulnerable, honest, or hear about my vulnerability/honesty***

In all seriousness though… I think that there’s a lot of things that would be a “dream” to do. And I firmly believe that I can do all of them in some kind of way throughout my life… but I think what’s an even bigger thing that we tend to not REALLY GET in our 20′s (okay, maybe it’s just me?!) is that peoples highlight reel that we’re seeing on facebook/twitter/blogs/whatever is not the reality and for us to compare them to what we know to be true of ourselves and our lives is certifiably crazy.

I’ve been guilty of it on more than one occasion, that’s for sure. All of that to say… I’m chasing my dreams down like Katniss searched for water in the Hunger Games (oh my gosh, I am obsessed)… one day at a time, one dream at a time, and one therapy appointment at a time. {keepin it real} Trying my best to not compare {shoutout K-Rob for the jar}. Trying my best to learn to accept my talents and my weaknesses. Trying my best to pinpoint what step is next…

xo,
AG

Instead of starting this blog post off with an “oh my gosh I am so sorry I haven’t written in forever…” or a “yet again I have lacked in the area of blogging…” I will say “Hello, again friends, family (since I know those are the only ones who read this thing anyway), and the occasional creepster who read my deepest  and most thought provoking words… including, but not limited to, the latest and greatest at The Little Green House, my peeves and celebratory happenings, as well as anything else that I feel provoked to write about…. which could be just about anything at this juncture.”

I’m pretty sure that this newly re-found passion to blog again has stemmed from living by my lonesome, as well as being put into exile at a cube at work where I sort mail for a majority of my day where I believe that it’s okay to talk to myself… sooo this seemed like a healthy step before I start making myself think that adopting a cat would be an okay thing to do… which I contemplated doing last Friday.

Not. Okay.

All that to say… I’m back. In full force. So hold on to your seats because ISS GON GET CRAY UP IN HURR.

ag

p.s. i just realized that the lyrics to “alone” by heart was not “and now it KILLS me to the bone…” welcome back to my brainwaves y’all. lylas.

What does it even mean for a man to HONORABLY pursue a woman? What does that even look like in 2012? I can tell you what it looks like in your mid 20′s in Columbia, Missouri…

Exactly. It looks like NOTHING. I’m not writing this out of spite or bitterness or even jealousy at all. I write it as a challenge to myself and also to hear opinions of men and women who are younger, my age, and older.

I recently read an article I found on a friends facebook page titled “The Death of Pretty” (you can find it here) that raised some GREAT questions in my little noggin. There has been a shift from women being called “pretty” {which conjures up the image of a nice, proper, sweet woman, who probably knits baby hats and tiny little dog sweaters for her maltese, and never ever uses a cuss words or speaks badly about other people} to “HOT” or “HOTT” if you’re in highschool {which conjures up an image of a Mizzou sorority girl… oops I mean a girl who you see out at da club wearing a too tight leopard printed dress that her LRB’s “fluff” out of, most likely extensions with 2 toned skunk hair but in a sort of cute way, gets all the attention from dudes, says “like” and “totes” 100-400 times in 2 minutes, and is the girl that every guy wants to take home}.

The best way I can describe this is through my good friend Miranda Lambert’s video “Only Prettier”…

So, where is the challenge? Why do we think we have to be the “hot/tt” girl to land the dude? Being the “pretty” girl doesn’t equal boring or tiny knitted baby dog sweaters! I read a quote that said “Keep your head, heels, and standards high.” I think that sums up the “pretty” girl well… more often than not the “pretty” girl is the girl who stays true to herself and to what she believes is the right thing to do… even if it doesn’t land her the guy. The “hot” girl dresses, acts, and looks like the girl that dudes wanna take home… not to have a nice conversation about politics.

I know both types of girls and I know for sure what group I fall in… not without the occasional “BUT! I WANT TO LOOK LIKE HER TO GET THE ATTENTION OF THAT GUY WHO IS IN ALL ACTUALITY A TOTAL AND COMPLETE JERK BUT IT’S F INE BECAUSE HE’LL FEED MY ATTENTIONOMETER FOR 5 SECONDS.”

AG, where is this going? Let me be frank. Girls… step it up and cut the crap. If you want to be respected by guys… if you want to quit the dramatic “oh em gee listen to what happened with frankie” (sidenote: who is frankie and why did that name come to my mind? no clue.)… if you want to end up with a guy who actually wants to be with you because he LIKES YOU AND WILL PURSUE YOU WITH HONORABLE INTENTIONS (oh my gosh that’s another blogpost for another day!) AND WILL TREAT YOU THE WAY YOU DESERVE TO BE TREATED… you will cut the crap and start respecting yourself enough to put away the tight little skankified zebra pleather suit and put on a sweet little cashmere sweater set… oh gosh there I go again with the stereotype. But you get my jist.

Now… let’s open Pandora’s box, shall we? Comment away with your thoughts on the article and “The Death of Pretty”. True or false?

AG

p.s. i still like “bad sandy” in grease… just sayin.