Prom. Prom. Prom. Prom. Prom. Prom. EVERYBODY.

Senior prom is a win. I'm just saying. So you people get to hear about every second of it. [kind of.]

Last Saturday, we spent the day at Thanksgiving Point; driving golf carts around the gardens, playing in the fountains, and visiting the dinosaur museum. It was a blast. But the real party was this weekend.

I had a hair/makeup appointment, and the best part of that was the eyes. I'm telling you people. Amber Woffinden has magical powers. SHE DID PEACOCK EYESHADOW FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. Seriously though, blue and purple feathers, on my eyes. However, it was daarrrrk. Like hookerish dark by the time we put mascara on, so we lightened it, and nixed the feathers. Downer. My hair was fabulous, and she incorporated everything I wanted into it. I'm telling you, magic.

Then my date, Matt Mansfield, picked me up in his uncle's amazing Corvette. My parents were down in Salt Lake setting up for the pictures, (my dad always plays dance photographer. Handy, really.) so I was fending for myself. Guess who put the boutonniere on flawlessly, the first time, with no help?? Me. That's right.

Then we drove to Salt Lake in the POURING rain for pictures and dinner, where finding parking was an adventure in itself. Ate, got photographed, and made our way to the State Capitol Building for the dance. That place is magical.

We danced til we dropped--almost literally, but not quite--and Matt was a sweetheart. Making sure I was always happy, was dancing with who I wanted to, dancing every slow song with me (and not doing it awkwardly. We actually looked like we liked each other. Winner, right there.), and basically just making me feel like a million bucks. We're both spazzy dancers which meant we moshed, and we moshed hard. My feet will be bruised for weeks.

When we were getting ready to leave, we realized it wasn't raining. I knew my hair would get ruined, but.... If it meant driving with the top down, I was willing to do anything. So we did, and blasted fun. the whole way....to the Bountiful exit, where it promptly started pouring, and we had to put the top back up. Oh well.

We changed in record time, and ate out of a chocolate fountain at the McRae's. Then we migrated downstairs, and claimed a spot on the best LoveSac to watch "How to Train Your Dragon." I'm fairly certain I was asleep for the majority of the movie, and Matt's entire right side of his body probably was too, but I think he was far too interested in the show to notice.

We made it home by curfew, he gave me a hug and spun me around again, and left.

It wasn't a huge deal, and it wasn't extravagant. But the kid is a gentleman, and I absolutely adore him. That's the moral of the story.

I get bored far too easily.

I have the attention span of a small child, and the patience of an even smaller human being. So, rather than waiting for my friend to hurry up and get married so she could start doing my hair again, I went ahead and scheduled an appointment at a real salon. (Gasp! This never happens. Like, ever. I'm all for Sally Beauty, bathroom sinks, and Sweet Home Alabama in the background of the Brian's or Smith's houses. Sue me.)
But I digress.
Since I was in seventh grade, I've had this nearly obsessive need for physical change. You name it, I've done it. Except tattoos. Extreme diets? Check. Over-exercise? Check. Every hair color from platinum to nearly black? Check. I don't know what it is, but something about being able to make me, the person I want to be never ceases to entertain me. That, and the fact that I can't do anything the same way for too long. Repetition not only bores me, but it terrifies me. What if someday, I get used to doing something one way for so long, that I can't do it any other way???
The fear is unwarranted, irrational, and silly. But I can't help it.

On a related note, prom is this Saturday. I. Am. So. Excited. I'm going with Matt Mansfield, one of my good friends, and I'm so glad I don't have to worry about impressing him. He's a sweetheart, and has already proved to me time and time again that this is going to be a great night, but it's nice to know that there's no pressure. My dress is fantastic, my date is a sweetheart, and oh! I GET TO RIDE IN A CORVETTE. Yeah, yeah, it's happened before and I've even driven one. But talk about arriving with class. We're going to look smoking.


So basically, life is good. And I get to feed my hair dye addiction tomorrow. Yay life!

Also, follow me on Instagram (ashlindberg) or on Twitter (@smash717) if you're not already. It'll be fun, I promise.

It's been a long time.

I'm not that great at this whole regular blogging thing. But I thought I'd post some highlights of life lately.

First of all, Sterling Scholar is over. Now I just have to wait until the 21st to find out how far I really made it.

Second, I got a Twitter. :/ I caved. Follow me @smash717

Third, I discovered that I really have no life. Between school, work, and lacrosse, I do nothing with my life. Lunch and Friday nights are the only times I see my friends.

This right here is my best friend. Sometimes, we sit in the back of a large van while our couple friends are having fun and Christian and Tyson are arguing. And if I'm really lucky, she falls in between the seats and gets stuck. Just long enough for me to take a picture and broadcast it to every social media site known to the free world. She's great. I guess I'll keep her.

I've always hated Valentine's Day. Like woken up and vowed to never celebrate it, hated it. The last couple haven't been that bad, I guess. But this year? I was at school form 6 am to 3 pm, I had practice from 3:30 to 5:30 and I worked from 5:45 to 10. It was probably the longest day of my life, and I was in an awful mood. But when I got home, there was this pretty bouquet on my table, and a sweet note with it. I guess boys aren't all that bad.:)

I may not update this frequently, but I do Instagram everyday.

Follow me at: ashlindberg

It seems now that a thousand summers have past.

Last night, I spent about a year and a half french braiding my hair so that it would look grand this morning [it didn't, but that's beside the point.]
I had Pandora playing, and I was kind of off in my own little world.
Then, Taylor Swift's "Back to December" came on, and my eyes suddenly went to the bouquet of dried flowers I have hanging on my wall.

You know when you think you're over something, but it turns out that you're really not?
It's like a suckerpunch, and it hurts.
I miss the friends I used to have, and the way they knew me better than anyone else. I miss the things we'd do for each other, only because we cared.

So while I was Pocahontas braiding my hair, and thinking about a bouquet of purple daisies, the song changed.

Oh, wise one, if you knew the answer,
Why'd you ask the question?
Oh, wise one if you're such a someone,
Why do you give nothing to anyone?
You've wiggled your way into me time and again,
You love to speak your mind.
But now it's fair to say I'm not open today,
To have my heart twisted up.
My confidence says I am worth it today,
So try and change its mind.
Kiss your sweet girl away, you've found your fate.
Now you will know what lonely pays.


I guess what goes around, comes around. And regardless of flowers that won't be coming back, and friends that have gone away,

I'm happy. And that's all that really matters.