Chi-chis, bazooms, maracas, ta-tas, the girls, the twins, dirty pillows, it goes on and on. These are things I know a little bit about.

Currently there's a huge uproar about the profile of a woman's breast while she's feeding her child on the cover of BabyTalk magazine. There's no nipple, just naked flesh with a baby attached to it. Because it's from the side, you can't see the baby's mouth, just his chubby cheeks, his nose, and his eyes.

They've received 700 letters this week alone about the cover photo. As much as we want to deny it, as much as we want to flaunt ourselves as the most sexually driven culture in the world, we, my friends, are still a largely puritanical society. Mothers, incredibly, who have even breast-fed their children are writing in to the magazine denouncing the cover and using words like "gross," and claiming its inappropriateness in the names if their teenage sons being exposed to it.

To those people I say you are perpetuating the problem of the human body being perceived as to have one function, sex. Breasts are an everyday fixture for HALF of the people in this country. At least 50% of us see them naked every day. At least 50% of us touch them in some shape or form every day. And that's just in the getting up, getting ready for work process. There's nothing sexual about it. God created women with boobs. Here they are. Yeah, they're great to look it; yeah, they're fun to play with, but those are just bonuses. They were created for one life-sustaining function: nourishment.

So for a mother, of all people, to react to a picture of a child breastfeeding as if it's some sort of inappropriate sexual image that will scar her son is mind-blowing to me. Why not have a little intelligence about it and help your son realize that boobs 1) are not BAD 2) are more than purely sexual objects (as are the people to whom they are attached). And for all practical purposes, I've rarely seen a new mom just whip it out full-force in public for the world to see. Most breastfeeding mothers I've seen try their best to be discreet while doing their best to manage the human being hanging off their already tired and worn-out body.

So give the breastfeeding moms a break. And quit freaking out over boobs. Half the world has them. We all know what they look like. It's not a secret. Give them props for doing what they can to ensure they have healthy children. And that's all I have to say about that.

Man, today is a great day. I can feel it, I'm losing weight. You know that feeling, when you're not really hungry, but your tummy's mostly empty and you feel just right? That's it. In the name of our budget, P and I have started taking our lunches to work and completely eliminated fast food from our diet. He makes his lunch in the mornings and I take a Healthy Choice meal or some such thing. I was used to eating something really fattening at least for lunch every day and dinner usually wasn't much better, even when I cooked. And poor P was eating fast food twice a day most days. Yikes. I need him to stay around a while and that definitely was not helping the longevity factor on his heart.

And sitting here this morning, I can feel it. I just feel better. We've eaten out one night this week and it was for real italian food, so it was uber rich and creamy, but other than that, we've done well. I'm proud of us.

Anyway, that's not what I got on here to write about. Myspace is being a peckerhead (like it is so many days) and I can't get on it. So I'll have to go humbly crawling back, pleading abject apologies to my ever faithful Blogger.

My boss comes back from vacation on Monday. And boy, am I ready. Two weeks in a new office without a boss is more of a challenge than you think. You can only spend so much time surfing the internet and dreaming up things to do. Today I'm in full on creative mode, thanks to my Raspberry Mocha Frappucino this morning. Heaven, I tell you. I've started my list and I'm bouncing around ideas on how to make child abuse prevention classes fun for high school kids. So far they've been using the ever-dreaded powerpoint (wah WAAAH). Powerpoint is so tired. And so is the use of group activities. Whoever invented that whole Adult Learning Theory thing was WAY off the mark. Group activities are for stupid people. Stupid people who have nothing to offer the world individually. I'm over it.

Anyway, I'm starting ideas for my budget proposal. I need a movie to show these kids. An interesting one. We have one, but not on DVD and DVD is a must. If I absolutely have to, I'll reference the powerpoint, but only minimally. I've gotta keep these kids awake. I want bright, colorful, newest thing on the walmart back to school isle folders stuffed with eye-catching information that's going to be relevant for them. I want fun pens with our logo on them as opposed to the box of white pencils we have. I want t shirts to give out for prizes. Give me what I need and I'll have them crying, I'll get them laughing, and leave them wanting to change the world. That's what I do.

And I'll need a Starbucks allotment to keep the wheels greased.

Oh and many thanks to Nick who so graciously gave Poncho the full report back on the Stoney show last night AT FOUR THIRTY IN THE MORNING. I take it it was his first show. Yes, we all heart Stoney. Welcome to the club.

So tonight it's packing a bag for the road show tomorrow. Good times await. Drunk times await. Chaos will ensue. Be prepared.

Peace out.

On life and love and whatnot.

I'm going to a luncheon today with a coworker, so that should break up the monotony for a while. After the week long ordeal with P's license, today is his first day at work. He's got a little different schedule than I do and has to wake up and leave before daylight, but he gets off early which will help with the band schedule. I talked to him about 8:30 this morning and he said everything was going well. I think I'll take him out tonight to celebrate.

I was telling Maroline recently how I'm starting to really sink into this idea of being a couple. I haven't really wanted it for the past several years and tried to avoid it at all costs. But now that I have it, it feels really really good. There's something to be said for the thrill of the dangerous and the risque. And first figuring each other out has sensations all of its own. But being together and being secure in that is something I hadn't felt before and something I'm learning to LOVE. (**gush alert**) The other night we were going to sleep and he put his arms around me and kissed me. There was no feeling of anticipation or anxiety or extraordinariness, just comfort. Just peace. Just relaxation. I felt like I was melting into him. And that's when I realized, this is what it feels like to have a partner. And I loved it.

And on an additional and completely unrelated note, they're chopping down the tree at Bart's Books, Dave's bookstore. It kinda makes me sad. I've always wanted to go there and see it, but now it's too late. It's the end of an era, well, like 4 eras, and I'm glad he's there for it. That's the thing about the earth, it will replenish itself. All will not be lost.

And for now, it's back to work.

So it's been a good day. Quiet, but good. I've had a lot of food for thought thrown at me. I read Buddy's MG blog about war and the theory that we should just let the whole middle east just slug it out and it got me thinking about our motivations... for us it's money. For them it's God and nationalism... and that started to make my head hurt so I decided to do some actual work and start researching Shaken Baby Syndrome.

And I ran across the story of a little girl who was hydrocephalic and had cerebral palsy as a result of being shaken in infancy and she fit the description to the T of a little girl on my former caseload at CPS. So that stirred up all kinds of worries in me about the baby boy (her little brother) who is still in her parent's care. Consequently, I emailed my old supervisor just to let her know my thoughts and asked her if she could help me clear my conscience by telling me she knew for sure the little girl was actually born that way.

And then I was emotionally drained so I decided to start reading blogs and skipped over to Dad Gone Mad and listened to his recounting of his new-found obsession with Adam Duritz. And that made me remember the great and frivolous glory days when I had a huge wall in my house covered in paper that I drew and painted on whenever the urge hit me. My wall was littered with sayings like I love drag queens and pink Manolos and various counting crows lyrics with my oh-so-creative illustrations of each. I remember my mom coming for a visit and seeing it. All she could think of to ask me was, You're depressed, Ashly, aren't you. You miss Cody, don't you.

Mom, it's been like seven years... my voice just trailed off. I ushered her out of the room and shut the door. And that was the visit before she told me how gorgeous I'd be if I wasn't so fat.

What a day. Tonight should be fun. P and I actually have enough cash flow after three weeks of been completely broke to go out and have some fun. We're going to dinner and a movie. Then tomorrow night it's on with the acoustic goodness of Adam Hood at Poor David's with all of our OKC friends who'll be down for a visit. It should kick ass and it should keep the neighbors up all night.

I'm out like trout.

Fiesta en la casa de Cochran y Boyles!

So I'm sweating like a pig here in my office trying to move fifteen five hundred pound boxes full of brochures from behind my office into the storage closet across the room. I went into the kitchen/break room/copy room in search of a dolly and hit the jackpot. Unfortunately I didn't realize until I'd loaded it down that the right tire was blown. So I've moved three boxes. And ruined my hair.

So anyway, party at my house Friday night after Adam Hood. So far we've 4 RSVP's and everybody's invited. Ragan said there will be no sleeping, but as far as I know all the beds have been called. But we have tons of floor space so just bring a blanket and a pillow in case you need a break and then decide to rejoin the party later. :)

Well, I've officially gotten no real work done this morning, so I guess I'll get to it. Happy Humping!

I keep going back and forth whether or not to blog here or on the myspace page. It's like two different groups of people. But some are the same. I think I'll stick with this. It's not quite as public, in a weird way, as the myspace.

So last night I had the emotional crisis I'd been waiting on for the last 11 months. And I have to be very accurate in the way I word this because the love of my life reads this. And I don't want him getting any funny ideas, but I still want to come across as honestly as possible.

Stress and the worries of life in general can wreak havoc on our emotions sometimes. And if we let it, it'll break the bough and the whole damn cradle will come falling down and get smashed to bits.

We are such creatures of habit. I thought I adapted to change pretty easily, and in fact, welcomed it into my life. But I'm not as smooth as I thought. I've been living on my own for six years. Paying my own bills, doing whatever I damn well please 24 hours a day. I've been free to focus totally and completely on me and what I want with no concern for anything else but MY life. I watch Oprah and see so many of those thirty something housewives up on the stage whining and crying and having these magical breakthrough moments where they figure out they don't know who the hell they are. And Oprah so graciously bestows upon them the wisdom that they can never be a good wife and mother until they are a good "themselves," and whatnot.

I've never had to deal with that. I went through the identity crisis early and alone. I emerged what Mr. Ray would call, a self-actualized person. To this day, I don't have that problem. I know exactly who I am, what I'm on this earth to do, what I'm passionate about, what I'm good at, what I'm GREAT at, and where I want to be. My life and identity like many of my counterparts does not consist of who my children are going to be, who my husband wants me to be, or what my parents want me to do. I am Ashly, plain and five foot nine. And I'm finding independence has been quite the self-indulgence.

With all the stress of this move, finding jobs and houses, and most of all getting the finances in some semblance of order, I found myself in tears last night thinking, this was so much easier when I was by myself. I had to take care of me and that was it. Bills were smaller and the stakes were lower. And thankfully after about ten minutes of that my more rational side said, Ummm, hello. He's giving up everything too. Quit being such a selfish whiney bitch.

All of that to say, I'm coming to realize that while independence is a MUST for people to learn at some point in their lives, when it becomes a necessity, a habit you cannot break, it becomes a liability. I love what one of my teachers said about the whole idea: Independence in relationships is not necessarily the goal. Interdependence is what you need. What is that? It's dependence. Good dependence. It's the freedom to roam always knowing there's a safe place to come home too.

I'm working on that safe place part. I've been out roaming around for too long and am finding it difficult at times to warm up to the idea of settling in one place. BUT. There is a huge plus side to all this. Unlike before, now I have someone who, if he's open to it, and he is, can travel with me.

This is a HUGE learning process, but so was learning to be on my own for the first time. I have confidence that I'll come out just as in love with being attached and all the bills that come with it as I am to the prospect of picking up and going anywhere I want whenever I want.

I'll figure it out. Love is crazy and commitment is even crazier. But I'm working on it.

One more week to be lazy...

So Friday I found the discount fabric corner in Dallas and scored 12 yards of deep red tropical goodness for $19.50. I am GOOD. Saturday we hung them and they look pretty great, I think. I mean, they definitely look better than twenty bucks.

Ryin and the lovely Lisa rolled into town Saturday afternoon, we cooked dinner, then they hit Fiona Apple show and then we hit Woody's for my first night out on the town. It's a cool place with lots of cool people. Good beer selection. But nobody really parties. They all just kinda sit around and listen. And I'm not really used to that, especially at a Macon Greyson show, and one in their own back yard at that. Either way it was still a great time. We came home and crashed about 2 a.m.

And now it's back to lonely Sundays and spending my week alone, waiting for the weekend. But that's ok, because this is my last one. I'm kinda nervous about the new job but I'm ready to get started. I hope it'll be great. I think it will. Pretty much anything beats DHS and that wasn't even all that bad.

So have a happy Monday. See ya down the road!

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Originally uploaded by Daisy Girl.

Having a Newport at Woodys. These Tx people haven't the first clue how to party. You CANT sit through a Macon show.

As it turns out I did some skillful rearranging of my finances and now I'm off in search of discount fabric shops to supply me with fabric to cover these damn 106" tall windows!

Wish me luck!!

I'm neurotic. Everytime i go through a significant change in my life I have a series of dreams about my car getting stolen. It happens every time. With the help of P last night, I think I may have figured out what they mean. My car is the only thing I really REALLY own. No payments, nobody gave it to me, it's paid for, my name's on the title, I own it. And in my dreams I've lost (or someone's taken) the only thing I own. And the only thing I can infer from that is that when big changes take place in my life somewhere in my subconscious I'm afraid I'm going to lose really the only thing I have, who I am.

My subconscious needs to chill out. I'm not losing anything. I'm growing and evolving and factoring it all in, as usual.

Last night I dreamed we were all at Chuck E. Cheese and so was the ex with his kid (at a birthday party upstairs). So I avoided the upstairs. I went into the bathroom to put on some makeup because I looked like crap, only to find someone had switched purses with me and my makeup was gone.

I think I sleep too much.

Ryin's coming down this weekend! Yay! Gotta clean up this house!

Ah, the joys of moving.

I'm broke as a joke. I know I've said it before, but this time I mean it. We're talking, so broke I'm not going to leave the house for 10 more days. Maybe it's all for the best, I have a lot of cleaning and arranging and re-arranging to do.

So we started the move last Friday night around 9 p.m., worked till 11:30 or so, then started the whole thing up again at 7:45 Saturday morning. We arrived at our new home around 2:30 on Saturday and the chaos officially began. We had about three hundred children in tow between all of us, but it actually turned out to be a good thing. Most of them were quite a bit of help hauling things into the house and helping to unpack.

Sunday thru Tuesday were kind of a blur. I know we went downtown to the fair park to watch the Dallas Symphony Orchestra and fireworks with about a billion other people. I know we cooked lots of food and unpacked a lot. I know I did a lot of cleaning up after people... but this is life.

Today is Wednesday, I finally have my beloved internet and some much needed quiet time. It's ok that I'm broke. I've got food in the pantry, lots of work to do, and not very many places to go. I sorta miss my familiar surroundings, but so far I wouldn't trade it. I've taken about fifteen baths in my new tub. I think it's my new best friend.

And now I'm going to go cook myself a sloppy joe. :) Come see me!

(I know it's fuzzy, but here's the new abode.)

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Originally uploaded by Daisy Girl.

I'm all tuckered out. The cable guy comes in the morning and I promise a blog then. For now I'm going to nap.