Am-bi-gyoo-i-tee

am·bi·gu·i·ty   
[am-bi-gyoo-i-tee]
–noun, plural -ties.
1.
doubtfulness or uncertainty of meaning or intention: to speak with ambiguity; an ambiguity of manner.
2.
an unclear, indefinite, or equivocal word, expression, meaning, etc.: a contract free of ambiguities; the ambiguities of modern poetry.


Ah, good old ambiguity.
When you're single, especially, life can be full of it.

With recurring feelings of "Meh, I don't know, I *guess* maybe I *kinda* like ______ (fill in name of person here)," we go about our ambiguous single lives systematically categorizing people in our lives as "potentials," if only in the name of keeping things interesting.

"I'm in my twenties, damn it! This is my one and only chance to.... go out to bars! And flirt! And stuff! Because you can't do that when you're older! Or something!"
We tell ourselves, trying to justify our reasons for choosing the intentionally unattached life.

Days when you aren't feeling incredibly ambiguous about just about every person you meet/hang out with/flirt with/go on a semi-date with/text/Facebook stalk are rarities for many of us.

Are you just friends with ________(fill in name of person here)? You ask yourself quietly. More than friends? FWB? Do they hate you a little? Feel lukewarm about you? Want to chuck you out a window one minute and kiss you the next? Shit if you know! And chances are good they probably aren't too sure, either. They're just playin' the field, man! Keeping their options open! Just like you. Sometimes there's a sort of a mutual, unspoken understanding that the ambiguity is there. That neither party has a shitting clue what is going on, and that's O.K.

It seems as though we've reached a point in time where "anything goes," but with that mentality, everything is also sort of incredibly up in the air. Perhaps too up in the air. So up in the air, you've lost sight of it and can't really identify it anymore. What is that thing? Oh...it looks a little like a Care Bears balloon from a kid's birthday party. Cute!

Maybe this is only the case for people with commitment issues, or those who are the children of parents who have divorced (or who otherwise have incredibly dysfunctional relationships,) or, really, people who just have a flat out different point of view when it comes to relationships-- but even so, that appears to cover quite a wide demographic these days, wouldn't ya say? (I don't really know, I'm so out of touch with reality that I probably haven't a clue. I'm probably the only ambiguous broad on the block. OK no I know that's not true. Well maybe *MY* block, but not other blocks.)

At the end of the day, maybe a life of ambiguity is more of a choice than anything. Maybe the randomness, the wondering, the not knowing what will happen next is a lifestyle choice for many individuals.

With the uncertainty of not knowing also comes a sort of freedom (unless you get preggers, an STD, or a broken heart in the process. That's when things get messy.)

It's essentially choosing to live your life as thought it were a comedy/drama/mystery/action flick rather than a rom-com. Which, I mean, it is what it is. Some days you feel like seeing a crazy film that has you on the edge of your seat, makes you laugh, possibly makes you fart (wait, why did it make you fart?), and is just all around interesting all at the same time-- others you long for the steady laughs (and heaps of cheesiness) that comes with a rom-com. Or in my case, you really aren't all that into movies in the first place, and only watch them when other people suggest them... *BUT* you get my point.

I read an article from a former journalist-turned-counselor named Dana Goldman, and I enjoyed the last bit of her article that talks about her transition into becoming comfortable with ambiguity as it relates to her career in counseling. (Not to mention I can completely relate, since I used to want to be a journalist and have, on a few occasions, contemplated going into the ambiguous world of counseling) :

"Where ambiguity lurks, my natural tendency is to pull out a machete and start clear-cutting my way to a landscape more, well, clear cut. That's how I ended up reporting news ... and why I ended up getting tired of reporting news. When you can understand all the angles and curves of something in an hour, how much is it really worth knowing?

It's easy to be drawn in by the feeling of mastery that accompanies us when we do small things well. But I'm starting to realize it's more valuable to be present with important ideas and ambiguous feelings than to fully comprehend those small things. So, here I am, in class, in the world, ready to try and let the ambiguity stand."

Sweet. Baby. Jeebus. Iss HoT!

(Image from some freak named "magentafreak". She's on Deviant Art. Go buy her evil sun!)

I don't really know how it's already 7 o'clock right now, but alas, it is. I thought I got home at like 5:30? Then showered? Which, showers only take me, at the most, (like, we're talking, I'd have to have some major pre-quarter life crisis that I'd be mulling over here,) at most a half hour...So that gets me to 6....wtf 7? W.T.F.

In other news, I have had an eye twitch all day that appears to have calmed the fuck down, so that's good (though I think it has started in the other eye, now?) Thanks, weird stress responses of the body. Where are the anti-eye twitch meds at the Rite Aid Pharmacy, for serious? I'd so take one right now. Here's to hoping a balanced meal of coffee and pizza will somehow make this issue go away.

I've also got a lovely headache coming on too, so that's fun.

Did I mention I work outside/ in a stuffy, non-A/C warehouse in this weather? Makes a girl want to cry a little.
Sweaty, salty tears that would leave streaks of white on my face as they rolled down my cheeks,
Where there was once a layer of (sexy) dirt, spray paint residue, and general filth.

I also get the feeling like I am going to hurl/pass out when I come home, which is, needless to say, also good news.

And perhaps the best/ sexiest news: Part of my summer uniform contains one of the hottest summer trends. I mean you have to get yourself some of these or else you would be doing yourself a major disservice.

What trend am I talking about?
Why, mom shorts, of course!
What are mom shorts, you ask?
Why, they are like mom jeans, naturally, only shorts!
What are mom jeans you ask?
WHAT?! You don't know what mom jeans are??
Here's a link to a song my friend Andy and I did in '08 about MJs that might help clear that up for you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z_mLH_OMrMg&feature=related

Apparently I don't know how to make that link click-able.
Sad how limited my knowledge of the intranets is considering how much I'm on it.
And how I had an online journalism class.
And how there's a "link" button at the top of the page that I tried, but the link just turns invisible when I view my post.

*BRB I NEED MORE PIZZA*

Ok, back. This is some honest to goodness good tastin' pizza. Could've used another minute in the ov3n, maybe.
Also not crazy about Tombstone pepperoni. Pepperoni in general is kinda Eh. I mean, what good would the Peps be if pizza didn't exist? Not much, not much at all.

Although it's a different story for you over there, isn't it, Pepperoni Eater? You're one of those weirdos that eats them from packages, aren't you? Well it's wrong, wrong I tell you. (Upon further research there are apparently Pepperoni Cubes, too? Sick. You know what those would be called if you took away the "epperoni" and "c"? Pubes.)

Anywho, I will include a visual of the trendy (they are trendy, keep in mind,) MS's once I have the energy to do anything more than strike a couple keys (or in some cases weird, keyless areas of my laptop where keys once were, but a certain feline- AHEM,MARLOW, HOW RUDE!- decided they aren't needed for typing, and would instead make for some delightful play-thingys.)

Other things I am capable of doing: Sipping on some Maxwell House, and shoving down some Tombstone pizza. These are the only things I want to do right now. Not add a picture of my butt that looks like the butt of a 40-year-old woman (one who is not Demi Moore,) due to pocket placement, length, and an overall baggy fit.

Meanwhile, all this writin' has me feelin' better already! Sorta. Still slightly cranky though. Ex: I just yelled "MARLOW, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" at my cat since I heard a big thud in the kitchen.
Which I am realizing may have just been him jumping off the counter.
Do you see why I'm afraid to have kids?

I'm nice though. I swear. Just don't have patience for thuds. Or my dad smoking. Or boys. Or heat. Or......I'm gonna go now, bye guys! XX

Ashley took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test! "Needs to feel identified with someone or something..." Click here to read the rest of the results.

Crazy quizzes trying to tell me my life and everything.

Location, Location

I know staying in the same town, doing the same things, and never straying from what is comfortable are obvious barriers to personal growth--but that leaves a lot of room for interpretation when it comes to figuring out the best way to a satisfying life, at least for me.

For example, what does it say about me that I am once again living in my hometown? Is it okay as long as I am finding new ways to spend my time? Of course, it can be difficult to stray from familiar patterns (especially when you're once again living under the same roof as you did when you used to have temper tantrums,) but there are ways to make it work, aren't there? Or am I forever doomed to be ill-adjusted to the world by (more often than not,) surrounding myself with what's familiar?

Is moving away/ constantly forcing yourself into new surroundings at any cost, the best answer? I've read that our personalities are basically fully formed by the age of 18. Maybe that's scary to me... that the way I am is (for the most part,) the way I'll be, and I am in some way holding off on having to deal with others' impressions of me when I could just as easily stay where everybody knows my name (Cheers, anyone?)

It seems to me, especially with the internet becoming so much a part of our lives, that maybe location isn't everything, after all. I mean, if we're spending all of this time online anyway, then what real reason is there to move elsewhere? Well, jobs I suppose, but that's a whole 'nother one of my never-ending philosophical dilemmas....