I'm drowning in OPULENCE!!

Earlier today, I was desperately attempting to get some work done, as was Adam, so we decided to desperately attempt to get some work done together. We both failed miserably. So, in the true American collegiate tradition, we decided to fail miserably together, off campus. After mild debating, we ended up walking to the infamous National Cathedral.

As many times as I have been to the Cathedral, I've never been inside. Today, that changed. Let me just go on the record that I have never quite felt so dead inside as when I was in this place. Despite it's beauty, grandeur and OPULENCE, I felt nothing spiritual whatsoever. For the first time in about four or five years, I said an Our Father (without being prompted to do so).

The Nat'l Cathedral gives off the distinct impression of being the embodiment of the nouveau riche movement. It desperately attempts to mimic Notre Dame, and fails horribly in the process, drowning somewhere in the Siene. All through the place there are placques that say something along the lines of "This part of the NATIONAL CATHEDRAL was built by the will and grace of God, but paid for by *insert wealthy, pompous asshole here*" I felt dirty and disgusted walking through that place, despite it's beauty, as I thought about how much money people donated to have their bodies laid to rest in the Cathedral. If you can get ANY rest with a bunch of high schoolers sitting on your coffin during lunch (I am NOT exaggerating here. St Alban's and NCS both have functioning classroom's in the Cathedral itself). But more than anything else, I just felt completely devoid of any spirituality inside that place. And that made me so incredibly sad, simply because it's a shame to see something built for a specific purpose (to inspire) and fail miserably in doing so. To use personification, it's like watching someone through their life away.

OK, you can all stop crying now. There IS an upside to this story. After lighting candles for my deceased grandparents (all of them now) and for my deceased uncle, Adam and I wandered outside, where we stumbled upon a garden.

This garden, completely unlike the rest of the area, almost looks neglected, despite being very well manicured. And therein lies the appeal of this place. Despite being overshadowed by one of the most overwhelming buildings in the city, it stands alone, complete separate. At times I almost forgot that it was the Cathedral shielding my eyes from the sunlight. Here, I found peace and much sought after connection to something greater than I. Just in the smell and feel of the wind, the close cropped grass or the hedges, there I felt my insignificance yet utter importance for the first time in a long time. To say the least, it was kind of amazing.

I slowly work my away towards being somewhat a pantheist. Help me.

Yes, dearest readers, your eyes deceive you not. That is, in fact, me receiving my first present from the Incredible RepairKat. In case you're blind from glaucoma (and smoking a lot of weed to try to correct your ailment) that's Adam wearing a panda mask. I can't really describe what happened that fateful day...so I'm not even going to try...suffice it to say: Though my friends are clinically ill, and occasionally I'm scared to go to sleep at night, they surpass all levels of cool and have taken up residence in a camp called From Russia, WITH LOVE.

In a completely unrelated note, I'm considering taking up taxonomy. Stop looking at me like that. Sickos.

I really do hate Maryland...

And no, it's not just because I'm from Pennsylvania and therefore obligated to hate aforementioned state. I hate Maryland because the traffic lights are NOT pedestrian friendly. Why are they not pedestrian friendly? Because no Maryland city (even Baltimore, which is fairly large) has an efficient public transportation system. For that reason, everyone has to drive cars. Which is, of course, killing the ozone layer and the reason why it was 50 degrees in the middle of January a few days ago.

Even Philly has SEPTA for the love of god.

So there you have it...I blame all of the East Coast's weather incidents (temperature, lack of snow, hurricanes...) on Maryland.

And the government. The MARYLAND government.

On another note...I'm back home...feels rather good, overall. My room is clean, I've seen some people, though not all and I'm avoiding TDR like the plague. It's kind of glorious.

Classes start tomorrow...but first BABYSITTING...with a cat...for those of you who don't know, my mild allergies to cats have developed into something near an asthma attack anytime I'm near one, so we'll see how this goes.

I'm also considering dropping juvenile delinquency, mostly because I just can't bring myself to be really interested in it. But then I'll only have 4 classes plus the research project (which will still be 15 credits)...and I will feel like a slacker. A slacker like whoa.

This morning I woke up rather late to my dad storming around the kitchen like one of the Knights Templar, muttering to himself "where's the peanut butter" while gesturing dramatically with a popsicle stick in hand.

I blinked and ran a hand through my sleep tangled hair, walked to the pantry and waved in the general vicinity of 3 rather large, barely used containers of peanut butter, in both smooth and chunky varieties. If there's one thing we do well, here at the Asylum, it's peanut butter.

Meanwhile, dad looks at me as though I'M insane and says "nonono, not THAT peanut butter. The OTHER peanut butter." Apparently "peanut butter" is actually code for "crack and/or acid." At this point, I shrug, shake my head and walk to the coffee pot, Advil in hand. Dad continues wandering around muttering to himself when finally, he gets this look of realization in his face and says "AHA! I left it in the laundry room!" And darts (mind you, this is my dad's version of "darting" which is more like lumbering) to the laundry room, returning triumphantly with a container of peanut butter larger then any company should be allowed to make. He continues muttering but this time it's more along the lines of "I'm gonna get that little bastard...I'm gonna get 'im..."

Apparently my dad has waged war on a mouse that's taken up residence in the basement. You'd think a simple chunk of cheese would be enough to catch this thing, but apparently this mouse is a rather intelligent creature. He's been alluding my dad for about a month now and last night was the last straw, apparently. Not only did he set off the trap, eat the food on it and scamper away, unscathed, he actually carried off the trap for god knows what purposes.

I'm scared to sleep at night. I'm afraid my dad might decide the only way to catch the mouse is to lure him with human flesh and slice off one of my fingers as bait...

And do you know what rationale my dad would use to justify such an action? Care to take a guess?

All who said "But the mouse was bothering the dog!" please stand up and exit to the left, where you will receive your prize. By prize what I really mean is a once in a lifetime opportunity to have sex with a communist dictator of your choice. But really now, who WOULDN'T want that?

I'd just like to clarify...my dog can't walk down stairs. He's NEVER IN THE BASEMENT. I'm beginning to feel like a second class citizen.

Lifetime Movie Network- The Devil's Baby

Update: Phone's back. Disregard all prior instructions, please. Unless you really want to hold a seance for me, 'cus that might be kind of cool.

Also, Lucifer's son was actually a really cute kid.

Well, due to the insanity of the past few weeks, my dad forgot to pay the cell phone bill. Can't really blame him, to say the least, he's had a lot on his mind. At any rate, my phone should be re-connected in 2 days but until then, if you need to get in touch with me you have a few options...

1) Call my house line. 717 755 2194. I'm not home a lot, and I can't really say any particular time of the day is better than another, but hey, ya never know, you could get lucky.
2) Email me. ashley.macveigh@gmail.com. This is probably your best bet, I'll try to check my email 2x/day.
3) AIM. macashsar. Not online a ton, and my connection sucks so I usually get kicked off when I put up an away message for extended periods of time but if you can, go for it.
4) If all else fails, and you've exhausted every other resource known to man including renting a private jet and flying over my house and/or holding a seance, you can facebook me.

I hurt myself...today...

How can you tell when you've been watching too much House? When your neck hurts a bit from sleeping on it wrong and your first thought is "NO! NOT MENINGITIS!"

Yeah...that was me this morning along with "arrggghhh...my head feels like someone pumped 8lbs of pressurized air into it..." and "ehhh....7:37am thou art mine most vengeful enemy."

Well...all is right with the world...Penn State beat FSU and Paterno isn't leaving. How much do I care about sports? Practically nothing, but Penn State is...well...Penn State. No explanations necessary.

I finally feel alive again, after about a week of living in a very grey limbo. It's a nice feeling and hopefully I will cease to sound down and/or dead.

In 10 days I will be back to DC. I am excited to return and get back to my life (which is quite promising indeed) but at the same time home is peaceful and I'm still not ready to go back to class. If next semester's classes are as bad as this past semester's, I might set something or someone on fire. And clearly by something what I mean is Israeli's care and by someone what I'm really trying to say is Israeli herself.

A very heartful and cheerful Happy 2006 to all of you this New Years morning. A drunk almost hit me this morning driving home. Is it wrong that I almost wish he had? I kinda want a new car...

I won't lie, I feel more relaxed now that all the holidays I celebrate are officially done with until July...Holidays make me uptight and anxious. C'est la vie...

At any rate...out of boredom...here you go...

Top Memories of 2005 (in no particular order):
1) The three day long celebration that was my birthday this year. Particularly dinner w/ Kat and Carey. Cheesecake anyone?
2) California from the summer. Yes, I did walk into that wearing a giant hat that said fuck with my head.
3) Philly in November. I was, in fact, so drunk I couldn't stand up.
4) One particular Halloween party. If you're supposed to be Asian, why are you so tall?
5) Breaking Benjamin concert w/ Shea last...what...March? What it is to Burn has not and never will be the same again.
6) Getting stranded in Dupont w/ Kat. Learning that I would, in fact, rather walk 30 blocks in the pouring rain in a short skirt then ask for change from strangers. That taxi had it coming.
7) That one night in Georgetown w/ Kat when we got hit on by every drunk guy in a 3 mile radius. Come home with me so I can rape you! Why are you touching me?!?!
8) Baltimore in September. That's right, we danced in the streets to The Killers and middle aged men should never wear spandex. Ever.
9) Freeing myself from the Oppression of hair dryers. This isn't really a memory so much as something to celebrate.
10) Sledding in the ampitheatre last semester on TDR trays. It was a lot warmer out when we were drunk
11) Drinking w/ Adam and Rob and attempting to go monumenting that one night last February...even though Rob tried to rape us, and I don't remember a good bit of the night, thinking of this will always make me smile.
12) GWU debate. Ash and Kat (Opposition) vs 2 UPenners (Government). They propose a really well thought out case about early warning systems and de-activation technologies. Ash and Kat have no idea what they're talking about, they shoot down attempts at a counter case. Ash stands up to do her Member of Opp speech without the slightest idea of what she is going to say. Rambles for 8 minutes about the absurdity of all of their arguments, the climax of her argument being "And finally...they mention the idea of "rogue agents." Come on now, really, this isn't a James Bond movie. What is the liklihood of some bitter intelligence officer sparking nuclear war? Do you really think these countries haven't already prepared for this highly unlikely event? I think not and it is in my opinion that such a small problem isn't worth the sacrifice of the US monopoly on nuclear technology." That night...my soul died...but it was worth it.
13) What happens in Anderson 348 STAYS in Anderson 348. I wish. Someone...probably Rach...is going to tell that story at my wedding.

All in all...a great year...but now I'm ready to tackle what comes next.