Guy advice from two dear friends

I have been dreading this post. It’s the post two of my girlfriends have reminded me to write, basically as punishment for my foolish and somewhat hilarious actions. If this isn’t putting it out there, I don’t know what is. Names have been omitted, obviously.

When I broke up with my boyfriend, I’ll be honest I was not ready for a relationship or to be dating so I’ll blame a majority of my actions on this. When in doubt, blame the ex.

In attempt to “get back out there” I had my share of snags. Here is the aftermath and advice from two dear friends, Erica and Lauren.

Sometimes I have problems figuring out when a guy wants to be friends or more.

I come home one night flustered. “So he obviously does not want to be my friend” I tell Erica and Lauren.

“Of course he doesn’t want to be your friend. He takes you to dinner, a bar, and then back at his house to watch a movie,” says Erica

“Well, that makes it sound like we were on a date. After dinner, I quoted A Few Good Men, you know the line “did you order the code red” and he said he loved that movie and asked if I wanted to watch it. I was over the bar, plus it’s one of my top ten favs, so of course I said yes.”

“Please tell me you aren’t this naïve. At 12:30 in the morning on a Thursday, a male isn't thinking gee I'd sacrifice a few hours of precious sleep to watch A Few Good Men for the 5th time,” Lauren declares. “The only thing keeping him up is thinking he's going to get some action. That is a fact.”

“I thought we were JUST friends with similar food and movie taste. He would be my new movie buddy. Y’all know how picky I am about whom I watch movies with.”

“Maybe that's what it's like in SMU pony world - where everything is fluffy and perfect. If you're good looking and go to a guy’s house to watch a movie, especially after being at a bar; he's going to want to take your clothes off. Period.” Erica states.

“So you’re saying if a guy does not find you good looking then you can be friends and watch a movie.”

“Ash, in your case if you don’t like him, do not go to his house to watch a movie!” Erica fires back.

“But, it’s a GREAT movie.”

Sometimes I don’t know what not to text a guy.

“So, I followed y’alls advice; I apologized and told him what y’all said. Good. Right?” I ask Lauren and Erica.

“Wait, Ash, what exactly did you say?” Erica questions.

“Well, I told him that I don’t always follow my girlfriends’ advice, but this time I was going too.”

“Oh god, you didn’t.” Lauren says.

“Oh yeah, that reminds me. I told him about God.”

“Wait…come again.” Erica says trying to control her laugher

“Well, I went to church this morning and the sermon was all about how we should be completely honest to those we care about, even if it makes us uncomfortable. So, I told him I was going to be honest with him about how his actions made me feel.”

“Oh. My. God,” they both say in unison.

“So not good….”

“No Ash, not good.” Lauren replies back.

Don’t tell a guy you just want to be friends when you don’t.

“Ugh I’m so mad. He talked about his date in front of me this morning!” I tell Lauren

“So,” Lauren replies.

“What do you mean so? That sucks. I liked him.”

“If you did, why did you tell him you just wanted to be friends?”

“Well, I didn’t want him to know I liked him,” I say.

“Why not? Didn’t he say he liked you?” (Lauren always makes things sound so simple.)

“He did? I don’t know. Things got complicated.”

“You make them complicated! Well maybe you should tell him you don’t want to be friends,” Lauren answers.

(I text said guy that I don’t want to be friends)

“Um I think he is confused now.”

“Why?”

“I texted him and told him I changed my mind and did not want to be friends and we should just go back to banter.”

“Ashleigh one, you forgot a part and two, you shouldn’t be texting this.”

“Which part did I forget?”

“The part about you liking him!” Lauren shouted.

Read your text messages.

It’s a bad thing, but we all get a little braver with a few drinks. After one too many cocktails at Prime Bar, I texted one guy who did not appreciate by sarcastic tone and frankly put me in my place.

“Um he sent me a horrible text.”

“He did,” Erica asks all concerned.

“Yeah, but then he sent me two more.”

“Okay….what did they say?”

“I didn’t read them. “

“Why not? You’re so weird,” she says shaking her head.

“I don’t want to deal with it right now. Over it.”

“So you are just going to pretend that didn’t happen.”

“Yes.” My phone beeps. “Crap he texted again.”

“Read it,” she yells.

“No.”

Two weeks later I read the text messages to both Lauren and Erica. They weren’t that bad, but obviously too late to do anything.

Don’t have push-up competitions with guys you may be interested in.

“What happened with Joe?” Erica asks. (Names have been changed to protect the innocent.)

“I don’t know. I’m kind of over it.” (I say I’m over things a lot)

“Why? He was so sweet and attentive, I like him for you.”

“Yeah. He was nice, but not really competitive.”

“Why?” She inquires. “He bikes.”

“He made fun of CrossFit.”

“So?” Erica lovingly makes fun of CrossFit too, so this isn’t a big deal to her.

“I bet I could lift more than him,” I say.

“Ashleigh. Seriously?

“I have a complex. I can’t date anyone I’m stronger or faster than.”

“Do you know you’re stronger than him?”

“Yes,” I state.

“How?”

“We had a push-up competition.”

“No you didn’t,” she says.

“Is that weird?”

“Yes,” she shouts.

“I know; my push-ups are horrible too!”

Don’t play games. You’ll regret it. Trust me.

“I just don’t know what guys want anymore.” I say.

“It’s pretty simple just be honest, open, sweet, fun. Basically, be yourself without all the games and insecurity. That seems to trip you up the most.” Lauren says.

“Do I play games?”

“Ah, yes you do.”

“That’s an unfair statement.”

“I think you act impulsively and defensively and then wish you could change things.”

“Completely disagree. Please give an example.”

“Last night.”

“Touché. I do regret that.”

It’s good to laugh at yourself. It’s even better to learn from your mistakes. And when you do learn from them, it’s even better to have friends that keep bringing them up to make sure you don't do it again. To quote Garden State, “If you can't laugh at yourself, life's gonna seem a whole lot longer than you like.”

Only let those who eat Paleo try your Paleo Cookies.

Most Sunday evenings a group of CrossFit kids meet for dinner. Honestly, this is my ideal evening. I do enjoy nights out at Capitol Pub, but I prefer dinner with friends filled with great conversation.   As Ralph Waldo Emerson said,  “the ornament of a house is the friends who frequent it.”

Although I enjoy eating these meals, I usually don’t provide an entree. I tried to make sweet potatoes one time, but  Kasey took my knife away in fear of me cutting myself in attempt to cook. Now I glady step aside and let the professionals do the cooking. I contribute with wine and stories from my weekends, which are usually pretty entertaining. Come out with me once and you’ll see.  
However, this Sunday was different. I was on a mission to cook, well to bake Paleo cookies.

First problem I ran into, finding the recipe online. Primal does not mean Paleo; I’ll later learn.

Confusion. My Paleo cookies needed butter. What? Butter? Also known as a dairy product, which is not hunted or gathered? So I texted my buddy Mark and asked him if I could swap butter for coconut butter, flour for almond flour and so on. He said I hope you are actually following a recipe and not just substituting ingredients.  I assured him I was.

Side note: I’m still in shock on all the swaps for dairy. Who knew coconut could be turned into milk and butter?

Moving on - I needed a bunch of ingredients. This included:

1/2 cup hazelnuts, chopped

1/2 cup pecans, chopped

1/2 cup almonds, chopped

1/2 tsp baking soda

1/2 cup butter

2 eggs

1 tsp vanilla

1/2 cup dried cranberries, chopped

1/2 cup dark chocolate chips

2 1/2 cups almond flour

2 cups unsweetened shredded coconut

I went to Central Market to buy all these Paleo ingredients .My kitchen lacked anything Erica hasn’t bought. I assure you, she isn’t buying Paleo staples. Well Central Market was holding a Mardi Gras festival, which means I got distracted by samples and forgot to shop for the cookies.

Plan B. Whole Foods. They usually don’t have as many samples, so I won’t be as easily distracted. I call Devonee to tell her my plan, but as I was talking I couldn’t find everything on my list. I located the dried cranberries, pecans, almonds, and chocolate. I swamped the hazelnuts for macadamias. I despise hazelnuts. It is for this reason that I hate Nutella. Hazelnuts taste like dirt and I don’t understand why they would ruin a chocolate spread with this unneeded addition.

An hour and a half later, I finally found all the ingredients, but one - almond flour.  Still on the phone with Dev, I was told to stop talking and focus.

Even off the phone, I could not find the almond flower. Defeated and now hungry from my shopping extravaganza, I noticed a sample guy giving away bison meatballs. He told me I look flustered as I gave him the rundown of my cookie ingredients. Sample Sam (that’s what I called him) decided to leave his post in search for almond flour. The store actually was out, or so they thought. Sample Sam found some in the back. Lucky me!

Two hours and fifty dollars later, I left the store and headed home to cook.  It seemed like a somewhat easy recipe.

·         First preheat the oven to 350. This took a while. I thought the oven was on, but no it was cleaning. I fixed it don’t worry.

·         Then beat butter (I used coconut butter) for 30 seconds in a bowl. Add in chopped cranberries and baking soda. Beat in eggs, vanilla, and almond flour. Stir in coconut, chocolate chips, and nuts. Mix until smooth. This did not mix until smooth, the ingredients weren’t clumpy together.

·         Place parchment paper on a baking sheet. Put spoonfuls of cookie mixture on tray. When I did this, all the nuts, chocolate and cranberries fell out of the dough. I stuck them back in with my fingers. Don’t worry, I washed my hands…um I think.

·         Bake for 15 minutes, flipping halfway through. Let cool (because they're pretty crumbly when still hot.)

After I took the first batch out of the oven, I was traumatized. The cookies looked disgusting and even tasted worse. You should want to eat a cookie right when it comes out of the oven, not want to destroy it.

I was so bummed. Dinner was in a few hours and I failed. I begged Erica to eat one and give me her honest opinion. As a good roommate, she put the morsel in her mouth. As she chomped down, a look of shock and confusion crossed her face.

“I can taste the coconut,” she said trying to chew and smile at the same time.

“Well, are they good?” I asked.

“Umm, I’m going to finish it.”

“Yes, but you should WANT to finish it,” I argued.  Erica kept going to another room.

“Are you throwing it away?!” I questioned

“No, I’ll finish it. It’s not horrible.”

“Well, if you came home and was craving a cookie and saw these, would you eat them?”

“No, I don’t think I would put that in my mouth again.”

I decided to bring the cookies to dinner anyway. I wanted to learn and also know what I did wrong. I warned the group first about my cookie mishap. Ryan didn’t care. He grabbed a cookie and surprisingly didn’t make that same expression Erica did. After chewing, he said not bad; I like the nuts.

Mark snatched one and said, “Yeah Ash, this is how Paleo cookies are supposed to taste.”

They are supposed to taste like chalk with hints of chocolate. Really? Alright, sure, I’ll take their word on it.

Honestly, I didn’t care. My Paleo group loved my cookies! I called Erica and gave her the good news.

Devonee was the only one who didn’t fall in love with my cookies. In her defense or my cookie’s defense, her first bite was not good. The cookie lacked chocolate chunks, cranberries and nuts – the only thing that made them edible.

I wanted her to try them again. Walking back inside and to my astonishment, the cookies were gone - all of them! Dev was a little agitated. Who can blame her? I would be upset too, if I missed out on the best Paleo cookie ever made.

I may have exaggerated a little, but this group wouldn’t eat just anything. Well, that’s a lie. They pretty much would.

The Green Band – I don’t want to be T-Rex at CF

The Green Band.

Green has never been a good color for me. When thinking of green, I think of money. Money I don’t have. (Non-profit is known for making money, obviously) It even reminds me of the color of my shirt after a little kid I taught tennis threw up on me. (Man, I miss that shirt.) It’s also the color of jealousy. Jealous? Yes, I was green with envy at everyone not using a green band to do pull-ups at the box. The band I now needed. The band I promised myself I wouldn’t use again. The green-eyed monster was back and she was not happy.

Y’all, I went to CrossFit on Wednesday for the first time since surgery. It was the happiest I have been in months, but also the most frustrating.  I couldn’t do much with my knee, but I did part of the workout. This part included fifty pull-ups.

Pull-ups frustrate me. It’s one of my favorite moves, even though I can’t seem to tackle it. One, I’m still learning kipping. But, in this process of learning kipping, I had moved up to the purple band. One away from no band at all.

Then after months off, the inevitable happens; I lose strength.  Before beginning our workout of fifty pull-ups, I grabbed the red band. I knew it had been awhile, so I needed the extra support. I practiced one. When I mean practice, I attempted to lift my body with absolutely no luck. Fifty pull-ups? Not going to happen. 

Defeated, I grabbed the blue band and waited for the time to start. I miss those timed workouts, the way your heart pounds so loud you swear people can hear it.  It’s the same adrenaline I used to get from running a race. The same butterflies in my gut before the start of a tennis match. My type-A personality needs that adrenaline. I crave competition.  Without it, I’m lost.  

The time starts and I manage ten pull-ups in a row. Then muscle weakness, then failure. Wait, this is not supposed to happen yet. I’m on the RED BAND. Forty more of these are left. I jump off the box and stretch my arms to try again. Five more, okay, actually it was really only one more. No one would count those last four.

A guy at CrossFit once told me I looked like T-Rex when doing  pull-ups. It wasn’t until this workout that I agreed with him. I did look like T-Rex. I knew if I straighten my arms and did a full chest to bar – I wouldn’t be able to go much longer or at all.

Frustrated, I jumped off the box.  Josh, one of the CrossFit coaches, comes over to me to make sure I’m not overdoing it. I’m known for overdoing things.

“I lost all my strength, what happened?” I told him.  Josh brushed my negativity aside and told me to get the green band.

The green band! The band I used the first day of CrossFit! Are you saying I lost it all? I started getting angry at myself. Maybe I should have done more strength in rehab, maybe I became lazy – my head was spinning.

Stop. I thought in my head. The new me doesn’t get defeated this easily. I’m only cheating myself with this attitude. Not doing the pull-up correctly was wrong. No one cares at CrossFit about your past or what you can’t do; it’s that you are trying your heart out and not giving up. If I didn’t do the workout correctly, I was giving up on myself.

Yes, it’s the green band. Yes, it’s disheartening to go back to where you started. But, I didn’t go back. The old Ash would push through doing T-Rex pull-ups –and not try to improve.  

So I swallowed my pride, it’s a big pill to get down, and grabbed the green band. I finished the workout. I even managed to look like a human just coming back from surgery and not a dinosaur.