The furry four-legged dictator.

March 13, 2008
A common misconception amongst civilians (people who are not airline crew) is that flight attendants are an uneducated bunch. This (for the most part) is completely untrue. I've worked with former doctors, nurses, accountants, teachers, a school superintendent and even an ex-Secret Serviceman who helped guard the prez. We are a varied bunch with a common thread. A love for flying, travel, interacting with people and eating meals over the trash can.

I tend to learn a lot from my crew and this last trip was no exception. I worked with a great flight attendant who used to run an animal rescue. She has raised hundreds of thousands of dollars, taken in thousands of animals and trained hundreds of dogs and cats. I was in awe. Of course I whipped out pictures of my pups and began peppering her with questions. "Is it normal for my dog to pee on our chair? Why does Winnie always hold her back paw in her mouth? Should we be worried about Hosses aggression when we take him on walks and he freaks out when we see another dog?...." She listened to all my questions with the appropriate nod here and there. Then she turned to me and asked "Does Hoss sit on you? Does he put his butt up to you first? Does he lean on you? Push you? Pee every three seconds when you're on a walk? Bite Winnie when she's in his way?". "Um....ya? That isn't normal?" was the only reply I could muster. She smiled and said "Nope. Your dog is making a jack-ass out of you."

Apparently our dog, Hoss, is trying to take over the world. Starting with his two stupid owners. I think that if we would have thought about it harder we *might* have realized that he had filled out the application for the "alpha dog" role and signed it in blood a long time ago. Our blood. From the dog bites. I didn't mention that he bites? When he was a puppy he bit HARD and drew blood multiple times with those vampire-like puppy teeth. Nowadays he just occasionally keeps us on our toes by giving a polite little chomp on our rear. Poor Joel used to have to flatten himself on the fridge for fear of a chomping of his man parts. An old Hoss favorite. Were probably lucky that we haven't been trying to get knocked up, 'cause I'm sure that can't help fertility prospects.

So as of a few days ago were starting intense doggy boot-camp. The most important part is going to be the crate training . We will follow that up by cutting back on their food (they may or may not be getting a bit pudgy), new collars and individual walks. The biggest part of the training though won't be with the dogs, it will be with us...especially me. The dogs may be my babies, but they aren't actual babies. Apparently they are canines who have very specific needs. First, they need an alpha to show them who's in charge. Secondly, they need mental and physical exercise daily. Thirdly falls my favorite....praise (aka "I wuv you puuppies. You are so preshhhius to meeee baby doggle facessss....). Molly has also volunteered to help me train them when we both have the day off. For free! Holla!

So cross your fingers folks 'cause my rear is counting on it.... Ouch.




Part Three: Being nice..... The Response....

March 7, 2008
First off I just have to say how much I loved, loved, loved all your comments. Even the anonymous ones. They sparked a lot of thought for me and reinforced my feelings. You, dear Internet, are awesome. Gold star. I didn't have a chance to respond to them so I thought I'd take a chance to do that now. Our first contestant is...... Cham!

Here is his comment:

Disclaimer: This is a general observation. This has nothing to do with Ashlee, but now that she brought the subject up.

There is nothing more disgusting than the words "I am a nice person." How do you know you are a nice person? Did some committee do an evaluation? Did they give you a favorable rating? Does opening doors for others while cheating on your taxes deem one "nice"?

Does saying what you think behind someone's back and not to their face make you nice? Does lying to your best friend about how fat she actually looks in those jeans make you nice or does cluing her in before she walks out in public give you the Better Homes nice seal of approval?

Women are obsessed with being seen as nice and good, just ask our new friend, Lauren Cleri, her level of goodness just cost her $200K. Personally, I'd rather have the money. It is impossible to judge niceness, much less your own niceness. If you want to meet the meanest person alive, just listed for those 5 little words, "I am a nice person."

Oh, and I dedicate the above post to that awful woman in the Canton Safeway who I called every name in the book yesterday, she deserved it. Her stumbling apology to me afterward rang hollow. And no, I am the only one on the planet who will admit to being not a nice person.

First off Cham, the old Ashlie would have told you to button up and quit spelling my name like a certain lip-syncing Simpson sister. The new Ashlie has decided not to mention anything. Mostly because your page states that you are a body-builder. While I'm pretty sure I could have taken down that 70 year old man, you, my friend may have been a greater challenge. So therefore I'm not going to even mention it (again). Capice?

Anywho, I thought that Cham brought up an excellent point. A lot of people (who are pretty much the devil incarnate) like to label themselves as "nice". I'm pretty sure that it boils down to the fact that people are 1) full of themselves 2) idiots & 3) completely oblivious. This is why I decided to quit using the word "nice" in my second post and switch it up to kind. For that I would like to say, "Thanks Cham!" this one is for you....



Okey doke. The second contestast of the day is....drum roll puleeze.... anonymous! Here is her/his comment.

Anonymous said...

It's all a choice now huh? Before it might have just been what you thought you had to do...now you do who you are. I think it's called maturing...but a 70 year old...yikes girly. I know your momma taught you better.


This comment was made after I wrote Part One of my manifesto. I really wanted to shout from the rooftops "Don't you judge me Anonymous!" in my best white trash drawl, but I didn't. Mostly because I knew how the story ended (with me NOT beating down a 70 year old). They didn't. So here is my response to Anon.

This is what my momma taught me. To stand up for myself. To let my heart and my faith be the guide in all situations. This doesn't always provide a peaceful ending. My mom is famous for telling the story of the time when I waited next to a car (with a friend) for over an hour to confront a woman on a bumper sticker she had that I most certainly didn't agree with. When the woman returned to her car I let her know why I thought she was wrong. I was in third grade. She was soooo proud that I had stood up for my beliefs. But? I'm pretty sure that she'd be less than thrilled with the way I handled myself in these situations. Not necessarily because I decided to stand up for myself, but in the way I chose to do it.

As far as the choice part? I think that its always a choice. You can choose to treat others with kindness or animosity.
Last but not least I'd like to button it up with a great comment from my girl, Um...Yum!.

I think I didn't find these incidences funny because I deal with people like that all the time, and it infuriates me. I absolutely hate rudeness. I don't see why that woman couldn't have opened the door, and what did she have to argue back with? "I'm too stupid to know how to open a door!" And the bacon? What was his problem bitching at a customer? I'm the first person to say the customer is never right, but if a customer says something is wrong, you don't argue with them like that. Gah! And I wish you had told that old man off. I don't understand why people think it's ok to talk to people like that and treat people that way.

I understand taking the high road and all that. I really wish I could do that, and I do actually most of the time but I actually don't feel good about it. I'd feel better if I could punch those assholes in the face. :oD I agree with the person who said that there is a fine line between being nice and being a pushover. I'm glad you stood up for yourself even if you believe you shouldn't have because it's obvious to me that people see you and think they can treat you like that, and sometimes they need to be told that they can't.

Wow girl, I agree, agree, agree with you. And just for the record I was moments from punching door lady in the face. Don't get me wrong. I'm not going to stop standing up for myself. I am and will always have a strong personality. Basically I'm just going to kick it back a few notches. I'm going to take it from complete bitchitude to kind assertion. For all of you dear people who thought I was demoting myself to driveway-like status getting run over multiple times a day, you DO NOT need to worry. If my momma taught me anything it was that we need to stand up for what we believe is right! If I had to do it all over again I would have still confronted each of those people, but just gone about it in a different fashion.

If someone attacks you, you are automatically going to go on the defensive. No resolutions are reached, just a record high setting for your blood pressure. My new goal is to react with firm kindness. Let people know that I am not a punching bag whilst showing them that I am a person who is reasonable and kind. That seems fair doesn't it?

Anyway, I love you peeps. Even (and especially) my friend anonymous. Have a kind AND assertive day.

Part Two: Being nice.....

March 5, 2008
So here I was with my new set of shiny cahones (can I even say that on the Internet?) ready to STAND the heck up for myself. When Joel and I were seated at a crappy table in Chili's I asked the waitress if we could move. Score one for Ashlie! When I knew the interest rate on my credit card should be lower I called good 'ol Bank of America and asked, nay, demanded that this LOYAL customer be receiving a better rate. Ask and you shall receive. What started out innocently enough snowballed into something greater. With fangs and possible demonic possession. This culminated into the events which happened last week. They shall now on be referred to as The Days of Reckoning.

Day number one: The Refi Meltdown.
Last Wednesday was a cold, windy day in Baltimore. It also happened to be the day Joel and I needed to sign loan documents for our home refinance. We drove to the massive office building where our title company was located and ran for the door. I, as usual, was not dressed in "weather appropriate attire" and was freezing. I hopped up the stairs and gripped the handle. It was locked. I was surprised to see a middle aged woman standing behind the door. I smiled and motioned. She smirked and shrugged. Five minutes later after Joel and I had ran around the ENTIRE building looking for another door (which there was none) we arrived back to see a business man standing next to the woman. He opened to door for us. As I stepped in the walkway I started berating her for not opening the door. She shot back. It got ugly. Joel, once again, stared at me like I had three heads. I was FURIOUS. She had pissed off the wrong cold, hungry camper.

Day Two: The Computer Collision.

Friday I had an overnight in Florida. My main goal for those 18 hours was to blog and tan. Both of which had been sorely overlooked this winter. After arriving in the business center to find the computers occupied I left to run. I returned an hour later to find the SAME man glued to his myspace/facebook/eharmony page. He refused to get off the computer. Verbal sparring ensued. He suggested that I call the police if I wanted him removed. I barely had the common sense to leave before I suggested what I thought he should do with himself....

Day Three: The Bacon Incident.

Another day in Florida. My crew member and I met for breakfast in the hotel restaurant. I, being vegetarian, ordered a veggie omelet. Half way throughI tasted something familiar. What the heck? I spit a red colored fleshy blob into my hand (mmmmnnn) and realized that I was chewing on bacon. I peeled apart my omelet and sat the dime size chunks on the side of my plate. The waitress came by and I explained the situation. Two seconds later the cook stomped over to our table told me that it WAS NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE BACON. I explained to him, that yes, infact it was bacon as I had CHEWED. This went back and forth until I told Mr. Cook to get thee heck over to my table and look at the blobs. My crewmate later told me that she had never expected that reaction from me because I was so sweet on the airplane.

Day 4: Old-Man Toothpaste Aisle Smackdown/Is God Testing Me?

Home again. Joel and I decided to make a quick run to Target for a few (who are we kidding?) items. I ended up in the toothpaste aisle while Joel returned a shirt. I picked up two boxes of tooth whitening gel to compare and in the process I knocked one on the flooe. I kicked it out of way to avoid anyone tripping and to pick it up. Did I pick it up at that instant? No. I was still guessing which product would make my teeth glow in the dark. Thats when a little old man bent over and picked up the box. Before I could reply with a hearty thanks, he turned and glared at me and said "What? You can't bend over or something?!?!" which was followed by an even worse glare and a loud sigh/spit. As he walked away I immediately went to follow him. There was NO WAY this mean old man was getting the last word. What happened next will hopefully change me for the better. My husband. My dear sweet husband walked over. He could tell that I was fuming and asked what was wrong. I told him about the injustice of it all and my plot to humiliate the old man. Feign pregnancy? Back injury? Something.... Joel stopped and looked at me shaking his head. He looked me straight in the eye and said "Let. It. Go." Let it go? But I was embarrassed. It wasn't fair. Grudgingly I told Joel that I wasn't going to hunt him down.

Somewhere between the shoes and dvds something changed. The anger that had been coursing through my veins was melting and the frown softened. I began to smile. I begin to feel good about myself like I had done the right thing and been the bigger person. That was two days ago and since then its really been all I can think about. The person I was becoming was not the person I want to be. What happened to the girl who used to wear her W.W.J.D. bracelet and actually try to "turn the other cheek"? It seems that as my empathy for animals and the environment has grown the compassion and kindness for people has waned. I'm always polite on the plane, its my job, but corner me when I'm not working and BAM. You can see what happens. And? I don't like it. I can't blame it on people being idiots, not eating for six hours or lack of sleep. Factors like this will always come into play. I can't choose how people are going to act, I can only choose my actions. And? I want to choose to be kind, generous, caring and empathetic. I think if I keep heading down the same path I've been on the only person I'm going to hurt will be me.

So? Wish me the best of luck, 'cause I'm sure this isn't the easy road I'm taking....



Being nice is overated. Or is it?

March 2, 2008

So I consider myself a nice person, right? I open doors for people, smile at strangers and coo at babies quite frequently. In flight attendant training my nickname was "smiley" and I was the class clown in high school (aka, always getting in trouble for doing something stupid). Last year if someone was to ask me to describe myself in five words, one of them would have been nice or kind or some other adjective to describe the only slightly tarnished halo sitting pristine upon my golden locks (did I mention that I was also a smite sarcastic? No? Okay.). Anywho, the last couple of years I noticed a change. It started out gradual enough with a little outburst here or there and has snowballed into something much greater. At first I took pride on growing some cahones (finally) and sticking the heck up for myself, but now its morphed into something that tastes a little bit like shame.

I can pinpoint the first time it happened. Joel and I were shopping at Safeway in Los Angeles. We got up to the counter and the clerk started acting very snotty. Typically I would have just gone about my business and maybe of complained to Joel about it once we got back in the car. This time was different. I didn't yell at the man, but I was OVER THE TOP sarcastic and snotty. I remember Joel turning sharply and looking at me like I was an alien. It really was an uncharacteristic move for me. As I stomped out of the store groceries in hand I felt a slight sense of guilt which I quickly squashed as hunger and went on with my day. Over the next year situations like this popped up now and again I started feeling bit vindicated in my reactions, like I was stomping out all my "weakness". Let people run all over Ashlie? Ha! Friggity hahahaha double eye-roll plus a scathing remark haha. I was never going to be that girl who cried when someone flipped her the bird in the car again. I was tough.

...to be continued.... *stay tuned for the grand finale when Ashlie beats down a 70 year old man in the toothpaste aisle at Target!*