Fifty Shades of Fucked Up

So I finished part one of the Shades of Grey trilogy. And obviously I’m quite traumatized. My dear friend Ahmed told me I wasn’t allowed to read the books because I’m too innocent. He may have been right!

I have a long list of problems with this book. Too many to name really, so here is my condensed version.

1. How is E.L James getting away with clearly plagiarizing Twilight. I know the series was originally Twilight fanfiction. But come on she could have done more then just change the names, she should have changed character descriptions. They are still clearly the Twilight characters. Christian is a perfect controlling god just like Edward. Brunette and clumsy Ana is clearly Bella. And maybe the worst is Jose as Jacob. Just because Jacob is Aboriginal doesn’t mean Jose has to be ethnic too. It’s kind of racist and offensive.

2. This goddess person that Ana always refers to is weird. Who sees another form of themselves commenting on their decisions. No one. Well actually one person, Lizzie McGuire. But the state of Hilary Duff’s career is evidence why an alter-ego on your shoulder is a bad idea.

3. The references to classical novels drives me up the wall. Mainly because they distort what the novels are about. Tess of the D’Urbervilles is not romantic at all. Tess is raped, ruined, gets married, gets abandoned by husband because she isn’t pure, becomes rapist’s mistress, hubby comes back, and then she dies. It’s not a happy story and I don’t appreciate it being portrayed as a romance. This is my problem with Twilight as well. Stephanie Meyer uses Romeo and Juliet and Wuthering Heights as love stories that Bella and Edward emulate. But they’re not love stories, the main characters all die! Heathcliff digs Catherine up out of her grave so he can die with her. That’s not romance. Also these authors have clearly read classic literature, yet they are such poor writers. How does that occur?

4. My mom has read them. Yes to my horror my mother has read all three books and loves them because of the storyline. My mom is very sweet so I believe her when she says she just likes the storyline. But still how gross is it to know your mom has read about spanking for pleasure, bondage and weird vaginal balls. bleh!

As disgusted as I am I still can’t wait to read the next book. This is what I don’t understand, why am I addicted to something so weird. But maybe that’s why Ana lets Christian be her dominant, it’s horrible but inexplicably you want more.

Surviving Summer Stress

So it’s fairly obvious I have failed to update my blog in awhile. Journalism school is kicking my butt. The hours are long and by the end of the day I have just enough energy to fall into bed.

Something needs to change because living like this is going to kill me. Plus it’s not fun going to bed at 8pm like a grandma. I want my life back.

So I made a list of things I want to do this summer. This way I can actually enjoy my summer. And I can feel more fulfilled because as I’m learning marks are far from fulfilling. Actually they suck.

Here is my list…

1. Take an art class…I use to be creative and I seem to have lost that.

2. Make my own art for my apartment…getting back my creativity

3. Read 50 Shades of Grey trilogy…don’t judge me. The book is so popular I need to see what all the mommy porn fuss is about. Of course I will be doing so in the privacy of my own home where no one can see what I’m reading.

4. Go to a concert in London…I am failing at exploring my new city.

5. Explore Toronto…There are so many art events I always want to go to and I never find the time to go. So this summer I will go the Picasso art exhibit and the new exhibit on Ballet Costumes.

6. Make my own popsicles…who doesn’t love a summer treat. Plus I read a delicious sounding recipe with lavender and apricot flavoured popsicles. Doesn’t that sound amazing?

7. Take a mini road trip…I am broke so this will be a very mini trip.

8. DIY denim shorts..my favourite jeans ripped. They will now become my favourite shorts.

9. Baking experiment…I once made cupcakes explode in the oven. Not on purpose of course. This summer I will try to become a baker. Clearly I will attempt the popsicles first and judge my proficiency from there.

10. Hair Makeover…my dear friend calls my hair Medusa, so I am going to make an effort everyday to do something fun with my hair. Can you say hair accessories crafts!

And the best part is I’m going to blog about each of my experiences! It’s almost July 1, so two months and counting to finish all ten tasks. Let the mayhem begin.

The Case of the Missing Sugar Packets

I watch a lot of TLC…that will be the topic of a future post. One of my favourite shows is My Strange Addiction, it’s hard not to become mesmerized at people addicted to sleeping with blow dryers or eating dish detergent. I always joke that I should have my own TLC show, but I would cringe if I was on this show.

But today I realized I could be on My Strange Addiction because I, Alyssa Ashton, have an addiction to stealing sugar packets.

Borrowed sugar from various places…I can’t reveal my sources.

I’m not cheap, but I refuse to spend money on buying a bag of sugar. So instead I steal sugar packets. Like a thief I check all around me before grabbing a handful of packets and stuffing them into my purse. Unlike a normal thief I don’t have to run away because there is no detectors for stolen sugar.

I pathetically even steal sugar from work. My old workplace use to get coffee delivered once a week. I never drank the coffee but I did pilfer many bags of sugar. I mean it was a huge container full of sugar packets that no one used, I was just doing my citizen’s duty to ensure nothing went to waste. You know the landfills are filled with waste already, we must control our garbage levels.

I even make friends get in on my addiction, requesting they ask for extra sugar packets when we go through the drive through at Tim Hortons. I’m surprised the Tim Hortons servers don’t question why we ask for two sugars in the coffee, plus five bags of extra sugar. Or that they don’t call an ambulance since clearly this would send us into diabetic shock if we consumed SEVEN bags of sugar.

Now people, mainly my old housemate, ask me why I don’t pay the $3 for a bag of sugar. My response, because this is free. Plus it allows for portion control. The other day I was making a glazed balsamic sauce and I needed one tsp of sugar. So I poured my sugar packet into my tsp and guess what, it was exactly a tsp. What luck and now I know how much sugar goes in my tea everyday.

I realize this may not be a strange addiction, maybe my pathetic addiction is a more apt title for my disease. But no matter how pathetic it is I will still continue to borrow sugar packets from whatever coffee shops I frequent.

Me and Balls

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So you may have noticed I didn’t include athletic as a possible adjective for me. And there is a good reason for that, I don’t have any athletic capability. As a child I played soccer and like to think I was quite good, but then I grew up and had a rather large epiphany.

I don’t like balls near my face.

I tell people this and they laugh very hard thinking I mean it in a different way. And I mean really that’s not very pleasant either. But I mean I do not like balls that are thrown at high speeds coming near my face. I was always the kid who got hit in the face by some sort of ball. I remember in grade five I got smacked in the face by a soccer ball at recess and then walked around all day with a large red mark on my left cheek. It was horrible. Kids made fun of me!

As a result I cringe any time I see someone throwing a ball near me. All those people who play football with one person on one side of the street and the other person on the opposite side… yeah I hate them. Because inevitably I somehow get hit or have nightmares that I will get hit. So I am the girl that sees someone playing football across a street and I glare at them and run for my life through the danger zone.

Despite my large fear of balls I have somehow joined a softball team. I have no ability to throw a ball or catch one, but it is time to get over this fear. I cannot live my life running from balls.

So here begins my journey of getting over my fear and welcoming balls back into my life and near my face. I’m sure much hilarity will ensue from this project.

Awkward Alyssa

Do you remember back in elemntary school – and unfortunately sometimes in high school and university – when they made you go around the circle and give an alliteration for your name. Like Magic Mark and Nice Nicole.

I always struggled with this game…what A word suited me best.

Amazing – Not a great first impression if I said this about myself. I would be that full of herself girl for the entire year.

Artsy/Artistic – People would expect me to be good at Art, which I’m not. Those who can’t do, write about it.

And these were the only two A adjectives I could come up with. But as I grew up and endlessly tripped over my own feet, giggled at inappropriate moments and failed at having normal conversations, I realized I had the perfect word for me. AWKWARD

So that’s what this blog is about, all the awkward things I do.

What’s to come: that time I fell over on the bus on top of a girl and why I don’t like balls.