In this classic rendition of what Matt describes as an “Ashley-only Scenario,” I may have accepted roofied salsa from a stranger in the grocery store parking lot. It went like this:
The other day, like the mature/responsible adult I am, I went to the store on my way home from work, because inclement weather was pending.
PS: I don’t watch the news, it’s depressing. So I only knew this because we got the option to remote into work. REAL ADULT LIKE.
So anyways, I’m minding my own business, grabbing the essentials: Oreos, milk, frosting, Mountain Dew and cereal, like the adult I am (and the adult I feed at home expects 🤣).
Fast forward, and I’m trying to load up my truck with the goods, and the guy parked next to me has every single door to his vehicle open. Every single door.
I’m trying not to be a dick, but like… it’s cold and… my sunroof wasn’t open for easy drop in (because winter), so I kindly ask if he minds if I shut his door nearest mine for a second. This dude is super polite.
But like… it was weird. This bro had over 8 open coolers in his vehicle. I’m trying not to stare because ya know… you do you, boo boo. But this guy has an ASSLOAD of salsa in his car. Like.. 800 containers. It really gets the mind rolling on who could possibly need that much salsa.
As I am maneuvering into my truck, this guy yells out “hey, you ever tried Big Mama’s Salsa?!” … um no. “Hot, medium or mild?!”
And me being the weirdo I am, and my inability to NOT channel Paris in uncomfy situations, I just blurt out “Hot, that’s Hot!”
🤦🏻♀️ why am I me?!
So.. he gives me a random container of hot salsa, in the middle of the grocery store parking lot, mid-evening. And me, being an IDIOT, kindly accepted it and ran home to show Matt my prize.
Matt… immediately is not proud. 0% part of him is beaming with the face of a proud papa, the way I imagined this win was going to go over. WHO DOESN’T LOVE FREE SALSA FROM STRANGERS IN PARKING LOTS?!
Apparently, NE has a human trafficking problem. Matt is convinced I received roofied salsa. There was some logic to his argumentation… but I wasn’t ready accept the salsa was a no-go. To the fridge (of expiration) it went.
AND THEN I SHIT YOU NOT.. today, I go to the store to pick up more milk (seriously, Matt has a problem🤢) and THE SALSA MAN IS THERE. turns out he’s totally legitimate and sells homemade salsa to Hyvee.
So.. that’s the win of the week. My salsa wasn’t roofied. But, what kinda asshole gives you free salsa without including the Tostitos?!
Back to the fridge (of expiration) it goes. No promises that we’ll ever eat it, but let me know if you end up trying Big Mama’s Salsa and liking it. It’s apparently all the rage.
Well... it's happening, due to high demand, and my monstrous ego, I've decided to blog. Simply put, I can't imagine who wouldN'T want to read my crazy antics and get to know the inner-workings of my semi-stable brain. Maybe, you'll laugh (hopefully, WITH me). Maybe you'll cry or maybe you'll get bored. It's really up to you what you take from this, all I can promise is brutal honesty, a heavy dose of sarcasm, some cuss words (I am who I am, sorry dad), and a little insanity. My mom has also recommended I share some of my recipes.. so maybe that too.
The face behind the blog is... hard to put into words and words are "kinda" my thing. I am loud, I am outspoken, I am silly, I am sarcastic. I am wildly defensive of my loved ones. I have an anxious mind and I spend a LOT of time trying to keep my brain from spiraling into worst case scenarios. I work hard to keep my mind a happy, optimistic place, which I have come to realize is not my mind's natural habitat. I spend almost all my time with my three dogs: Lucy, Brantley, and Zeppelyn, who I am convinced are the greatest beings on the planet. I probably love my parents TOO much, but I am blessed to share a very close friendship with both and it is REALLY important to me that I never take that for granted. I love a boy, I have loved the same boy for years now, and I moved for him and honestly; home is where he is. Fine, his name is Matt and he is most definitely TAKEN, so back off ladies. I am a KC Native; a Jayhawk by choice, and an Omaha- Transplant. I spent my entire life telling everyone I was going to be a doctor, only to turn out to be an attorney in the scheme of things (I am proud of that, it is just not where I saw my life going). I am often convinced that I should have been born in a small town (John Cougar Mellencamp- Style) and any part of my heart not occupied by the dogs and Matt, is occupied by the late, but no less great Star, my horse/partner/best friend of 15 years. That's right, I am a former "Horse Hottie" and it is one of my favorite things about myself. Otherwise, I try to be a kind, generous, and a good person. Sometimes, I think I am misunderstood, and other times, I am understood a little too well. My face will tell you anything that I SOMEHOW manage to filter my mouth from saying. Oh, and I think I need all baby animals: zoo animals, farm animals, ALL the animals. That should pretty much wrap it up -- I'm Ashley; Enneagram: Whatever.
In truth, I don't know what my mission is here. I don't foresee myself saving lives, talking people off the ledge, or providing sage, creative or original life advice. I am not a parent, so parenting-advice shall not be offered. I avoid controversial topics like the plague, I don't have the urge to lead you to the Lord (but he is pretty cool if you are open to the idea), and I have no idea on how to teach, craft, DIY, counsel, or even really advise.
But I can repeat what I have learned, I can tell stories, and (sometimes) I can make people laugh. Writing makes me happy. I hope my writing makes you happy.
So buckle up, strap in, glue your helmet to your damn head, empty your bladder and do whatever it is that you have to do to prepare for a ride.. a wild ride. A star-studded, bronc bucking, rodeo type of ride... my very favorite type. 💃🏼
Sunny daze ahead friends, probably. ❤️
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Sunny Daze Ahead (Probably) 