Getting to Know You, aka the most I'll ever quote The King and I

(I'm not a huge fan of that musical, though I love MANY THOUSANDS of others)

I’m not sure we’re really acquainted. Although, except for the monkey that follows my blog (seriously, I’m flattered, but WHO ARE YOU?), you DO know me. But to anyone who might stumble upon this site by accident or random Kevin-Bacon-game bunny trail from some person to me, and be indubitably struck by my quirky brilliance, I will describe myself to you a bit more. And perhaps you who know me will be enlightened further.

I’m an original copy-cat. But Ashlee, what does that mean? you undoubtedly ask. Answer: anything that you read on this blog that makes you laugh has probably been stolen—in format, not in content. I don’t plagiarize, everything on this site is really made up from my weird mind, but my humor is not my own. I have learned how to be funny from my CBFF Christi and a few funny people I read. Allie of Hyperbole and a Half fame is one of those funny people. Dave Barry is another. Self-deprecation and run-on sentences with too many adjectives come from these people. So, don’t stop reading me, but read them too. You probably won’t think I’m that funny anymore, but they’re hysterical.

I’m a NERD. Not even a geek, because geeks are cool and get to go to awesome stuff like Comic-Con and Star Wars conventions and gamer expos. Nope, I’m just a nerd. I graduated college Summa Cum Laude with a 3.95 GPA, I correct everyone’s grammar (if not out loud, in my head), I am the ONLY one in my family that finds my engineer father’s dry humor hilarious, and I think of puns all the time that I don’t actually say because, as a rule, all of my peers would look at me like their grandfather wouldn’t even make a joke that lame. I know this because on the few disastrous occasions when I have tested out one of these puns that seem oh-so-witty in my mind, this is the reaction I have gotten:
Hence, the whole stealing-other-styles-of-humor thing. My dad would have laughed hysterically…or at least understood the joke and chuckled to placate me. But no one else finds it truly funny. (Super-fun side note: if you take my advice and look at the blog I mentioned, you will see that even my style of artwork is stolen from Allie)

I have a very obsessive personality. It doesn’t take much for me to like something...and when I like something, I LOVE IT. Examples: 1) CBFF Christi told me she loves the show Dexter. I watched three seasons in about a month to be caught up with her. 2) Lost: I got sick of hearing all the hype without understanding what they were talking about, so I watched four seasons in a month and a half, even when it got unbelievably stupid and more than usually impossible. When I got like this in college, CBFF knew that if she walked into our room and I was there, I was going to be watching the show of the month, whatever it was. And she was going to hear synopses of the episodes because I’m also very expressive and can’t help but laugh or go “aw” or something when I’m watching a show with my headphones in. She was always very patient and pretended to be avidly interested in the nuances of shows she had never seen and characters she had never heard of. IMDB is my enabler in this obsession. It is far too easy to search for the movie I’ve just seen and figure out why that supporting actor looks so familiar. Then I have five movies he’s been in RIGHT on the tip of my tongue in case someone says, “I don’t think I remember who you’re talking about. What else has he done?” Which happens surprisingly often (I don’t have too many film-geeks for friends). When LOTR came out (and if you don’t know/can’t figure out what that stands for, just stop reading my blog right now), my dad and I went to a flea market and bought a replica of Sting (complete with “made in Pakistan” on the blade), my parents gave me the Evenstar necklace for Christmas, and I learned all the Elvish phrases in the (first) movie. Don’t bother telling me how pathetic I am, I already know. It’s totally another “dad” characteristic: my dad watched Phantom of the Opera and we all saw the musical together at Western Michigan University when I was 18 (four years ago) and he would STILL watch that movie every other night if my mom didn’t put her foot down. We also bought all three Extended Versions of LOTR and he tries to make it a tradition to watch all three over a Christmas vacation weekend. It’s pretty unsuccessful, but that’s not the point. The point is that he’s really obsessive, and so am I.

I do things specifically so people will think I’m cooler—usually guys. Example: guns are pretty cool, and I like shooting targets with my dad and learning how to make bullets because it’s an obscure skill that I will never use but that is fun to have in my arsenal (ha, arsenal…guns…see? That’s my natural humor: LAME). But I really like that I know just enough about guns to seem cool to a guy who has a small to moderate gun knowledge, i.e. every single American guy on the planet except those who know way too much about guns. I mean, even the pacifists I know who would never own a gun in real life play a crap-ton of video games equipped with armories that would make a trigger-happy 19 year old Marine go, “Umm, I think that might be a little overkill.” Also, I recently had WAY too much car trouble than should be allowed for a broke college grad living far from home with no job and an essentially brand-new car. So I did a lot of Googling about crankshaft position sensors, limit-home settings, camshafts, and spark plugs. To any mechanic trying to screw me over or tempted to think I was gullible and ignorant, I threw in JUST enough car lingo to make them think otherwise. A very useful tool. Also, I think Star Wars and Star Trek really are cool (see above weird fact #3 about me), but I want to know so much more random trivia about it JUST so I will be cooler in the eyes of fellow geeks of the male gender, which is invariably who I am always attracted to even though I desperately wish I would fall for the rugged, muscular, exotic guys who are well-read and well-traveled (side note: this is exactly like my male friend who wants to date a redhead—or just Amy Adams—more than anything in the world, but always dates girls of other hair color—usually with brown hair and glasses). And lastly, I like some video games, but my skill level is very much a typical girl skill level (very low) and I only like Mario kind of stuff, and only on the N64. It’s my favorite system, for sure. But I like movies a lot, and some video games like Oblivion and Assassin’s Creed are a lot like movies because there’s a good storyline, and Fallout 3 is pretty cool too. However, though I don’t play them and don’t get geeked out about graphics or awesome moves or anything, I will watch a guy play video games for a good two or three hours 1) to spend time with someone of the opposite sex, and 2) so he will think I like video games and therefore am cool. I will never attempt to pick up a controller, even if I am offered an opportunity, because without fail I will be outed as a less-than-devoted gamer. This has led to many a yawn-stifling evening watching a friend free the demon-warrior-ghost from his crypt only to slay him with rapid-fire thumb movements and save the medieval kingdom from inevitable destruction by genetically altered goblins.

So, that sums up the weird world of ME…for now. There is just so much more that I’m not willing to share with you…namely because I would be hesitant to share it with a therapist, let alone you crazies/future employers/possible lovers on the Internet. And…you…know who you are??

If I suddenly triple my follower count from this post I’ll add more wacky facts about myself, but I’m out of ideas at the moment so I’ll try to eat my Comedy Wheaties in the morning to keep up my humor-strength. Might take awhile. I know, I know…you’re ALL waiting with bated breath. Especially that monkey.

So...I'll probably lose all 3 of my followers by telling you this...

Reader, sit right down and your dear aunt Ashlee will tell you the tale of when I asked a millionaire if I could live with him for the summer. Hold on tight, this is not a pretty story.

To begin, I knew this was crazy when I did it, but College BFF Christi tried out for a reality TV show in Chicago, and when I looked at her like she was kind of nuts, she said, “Why not? At least I can say I tried. People can’t make fun of me because they didn’t even try and I did.” This inspired me to try my own crazy, at-least-I-tried thing. Spoiler alert: CBFF is NOT on a reality TV show, and our plans worked out equally well for both of us.

So, I was watching Millionaire Matchmaker on Bravo late one night (a mistake already, I KNOW). Please don’t lose all respect for me yet. By the end of the story, fine; but not yet. If you don’t know what the show is, a 2-sentence explanation: these millionaires hire a professional matchmaker to find classy, non-gold-digger dates for them and they have a mixer where they can’t exchange numbers, then a mini-date with two people of their choice, then one big date with one of those people. Patti (Matchmaker) calls and sees how it went and then we get an update on if they see each other again. It’s like all the fun of Bachelor but not in a freaking long, ridiculously dramatic season. And this really cute guy was on it (Trevor) and he’s from the city right in between where I went to college and where I’m working this summer. I think my mom suggested this jokingly, but of course I got really desperate for a cheap/free place to live this summer and took her suggestion. He’s a Christian, which is a total plus for her. She said I should live with him for the summer and then he would inevitably fall in love with me and I would be set and not have to choose a career (well, I added that career part; I’m sure she expects me to become a fabulously wealthy lawyer even if I marry the prince of Monaco…who IS single, by the way…but that’s beside the point). I did some creepy Internet stalking research and discovered how old he was (26? I legitimately forgot so I can’t be that crazy…OK OK, I still am) and that actually he lives somewhere else but his PARENTS live in the town that Millionaire Matchmaker said he lived in, and that made it better because while he probably wouldn’t let me live with him alone, his parents might be OK with taking in a charity/mental case for two short months. I was home while I saw this, and as I returned to school and my summer living/pay situation got more and more dismal, I got more and more distraught and desperate. So I found him on Facebook and sent him THIS (commentary in italics):

Hello. You don't know me, and even though I don't really know you, I have a very weird question. I'm a senior at *I’m not telling you guys* College, and I have an internship in Fort Wayne this summer, with Senator *So-and-so*'s office. I'm making essentially a pittance, and I can't really afford rent anywhere. And, your family has a big farm in *some Indiana* City. (I know, I know...this already sounds insane as I type it...believe me, I'm aware.)

*I thought admitting it would make it seem less creepy. It didn’t.*

Anyway, I was wondering if, one nice Christian person to another, your family might consider letting me stay with them in *town where they live*, just for the summer.

*Make myself sound respectable and show him already we have something in common.*

I could pay them $100 a month at most. I'm an honest, clean, responsible Christian girl who just needs a place to stay for cheap.

*Lies, all lies. I’m semi-messy, rarely on time, stay up too late and sleep through my alarm—which puts responsible out the window.*

Even though I don't know your family, it's pretty obviously from the very little I know of you that they are wonderful Christian people, so that makes this (only slightly) less scary than finding a roommate on Craigslist.

*See, two birds with one stone: brown-nose AND let him know I’m trying to AVOID crazy…would an insane person really care about avoiding other insane people??*

I could have just gotten their number out of the white pages, but I couldn't decide which way would be creepier--you getting a Facebook message from a total stranger or your parents getting a call from a stranger asking for a place to stay. Unfortunately, I now realize they are BOTH equally creepy.

*Yes they are.*

So, you can completely disregard this message if you find it intrusive and presumptuous, but I'm CLEARLY at the end of my rope here with such a desperate request. On the off chance that you DON'T immediately delete this, and if you would feel more comfortable after meeting me, you can do that

*not that I really want you to meet me and think I’m pretty or anything*; or we can set up a meeting with your parents.

OK, YES...to get it out of the way, because I'm sure you're wondering, I DID see you on Millionaire Matchmaker...it was 1 AM and I was bored...but that's really beside the point.

*No, it’s not. It’s very much THE POINT.*

You just stuck in my head for some reason, maybe because you were so close to *some town where my college is*. Maybe because God wanted me to at least ask for your help (as I'm not always good about that).

*Again with throwing the religion card in there, just in case he had forgotten from a minute ago.*

Please just prayerfully consider it, and thank you for even reading to the end of this message.

*Yeah, BIG assumption there.*

AND, believe it or not, he actually replied: My parents are great people but believe me you don't want to live with them haha....I will let you know if I hear of anything around Columbia City.

I had to add that last period, by the way. While I was just grateful to get a reply and not a restraining order, the more I read it to friends who couldn’t believe the story until I read both messages to them, the more I was like “YOU’RE a millionaire? YOU were on TV as this classy, rich guy and you can’t even use a PERIOD??” And to just throw “haha” in there like it goes with the rest of that sentence…I mean, come ON. Also, it made me unbelievably curious as to what kind of people his parents are to make him say that. Are they conservative? monkish-ly quiet? sheep-humping hicks? Do they decorate their house with clowns? I’ll never know.

Anyway, since then I have met two people who know him and know the family and I told the story to one of them and he thought it was hysterical instead of crazy. Maybe a little crazy, but he mercifully kept that to himself…unlike the other coworkers in the room who immediately mass-texted and Tweeted it and gave me REALLY weird looks for the rest of the day. He said he could picture Trevor saying something like that, and that he was too nice to think it was creepy. And if he doesn’t think I’m unbelievably crazy and disturbed, then clearly he’s not mentally right and it’s a good thing I didn’t live with him this summer. Whew, dodged a bullet on that one.

And that, children, is the story of how your aunt Ashlee ALMOST lived with a millionaire/got her first restraining order.

Sometimes You Just Gotta Change It Up

So, I have decided this is going to be a funny blog. Why, my multitudinous (note: sarcasm) readership might ask? Because another blogger has inspired me (side note: I’m really impressed that MS Word recognizes the word “blogger”). Now, I realize I’m not that funny. You quickly will too. But l have random observations that people seem to find slightly humorous. Or they’re really polite and laugh anyway. Crap…that’s what I do to my dad. So this is probably going to flop. But oh well. I’ll be entertained for sure.

You know how people on TV or in movies go, “Oh, I’m just too busy for a relationship right now. I’m focusing on my career,” but you know they’re just lying because it’s a chick flick and she really does want a boyfriend because you saw the trailer and you know she falls for this guy who seems like a jerk but has a heart of gold and she’s just saying that because she’s lonely but she’s sick of all the blind dates her friends make her go on? Well, in the REAL world (where I’m unfortunately finding myself), that can actually be a legit excuse. For example, I want someone to hold my hand and watch movies with me and buy me dinner (dear LORD do I ever want someone to buy my poor butt some dinner), but I have ZERO time to give to that hypothetical guy who, if he did all that crap, would totally deserve a lot of my time. I mean, I want a puppy too—for many of the same reasons as a boyfriend, hand-holding included—but it’s unfair to the poor little guy who just wants me to scratch his ears and fill his dish and take him for walks, and I’m out making a pittance and sucking up to crazy people at work to give him all that. Again, all those things I described could also go with a boyfriend. OK, I am no longer sure if I’m talking about a puppy or a man, so it’s time to stop.

UPDATE: I definitely should have had a better transition between my two paragraphs. It totally sounded like I introduced then started a comedy routine, and for the life of me I couldn’t read that second paragraph any other way except like a stand-up routine…too Seinfeld. Gotta work on that. Also, MS Word also knows “Seinfeld.” And yet it freaks out on my name.

Word’s all “WTF? Just add it to my dictionary.”
And I’m like “That’s not the point. …Fine.”

Update #2: While it is fun to use Paint to draw cartoons about how I feel toward computer programs who are not as fixated on my importance as I am, I think I’m just embarrassing myself and I think I’m going to stop. Future testing of theory to follow.