I haven't done an Inst-recap of life in a long while, and I really figured that, what the hell, I haven't blogged about pretty much anything in the past few months that isn't a T-Rex shower head or Chris Pratt's abs, so here's a quick recap of the past few months in grams and words and likely a lot of cursing. Because that's how I roll.
We threw a wedding' for my little bro and his (now) wife. I officiated because the Internet basically allows you to do all things and I'm one funny bitch. I'm still trying to figure out if I can make up my own title, and if so, if I can be Pope Fears without being smote. (smoten? smited? F you grammar.) I managed to make a fart joke, a Step Brothers reference, and use Beyonce lyrics as the i-dos all in the span of about 15 minutes, so I think it's safe to say that I win at officiating. My friends had a bet on how long it would take me to start crying. The person who guessed, "immediately" won. My friends are assholes.
Big Al decided to take up beekeeping a few years ago despite my mother being incredibly allergic to bee stings. (You see where I get it from?) His solution? Put them in the middle of the woods. I took the bees a little treat. Big Al assured me I would not need to wear the entire beekeeping suit because they wouldn't be concerned with stinging me unless I "fed" the bees by body slamming the hive.
I told him I loved costumes and to stop telling me how to live my life.
One of the things that happens when you turn 30 is apparently your entire body decides to begin shutting down on you organ by organ. What started as concern over never-ending gas moved to midnight WebMD cancer scares, which led to my nurse on call to tell me she thought I was having a heart attack. Yeah. Someone give her the Nurse Ratchet Award for patient sensitivity. I eventually went to Urgent Care, which sent me to the Emergency Room, which made me pee in a cup four times, force me to wait in the waiting room for 8 hours next to a man who chose to walk INTO the hospital barefoot before putting on his shoes, and then rushing me into surgery to perform an emergency appendectomy. This little gem is the shortened version of Ashley on anesthesia. First there are tears, then there is anger, then there is my mother using me for video fodder.
Everyone understands how to play Marco Polo jerks.