SHIT! They’re going to find out I send (and receive) tawdry texts when drunk.

THE HORROR.

At least they haven’t found out about Hipsterotica.com yet…

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The messiest desk in the world, originally uploaded by Aubs.

Some people have an organized, tidy, "know where everything is" sort of desk.

I am NOT one of those people.

I have TRIED to be one of those people, mind you, many times. I am a masterful piler; instead of cleaning, per se, I just pile all the crap up that I’m supposed to be doing something with so that it looks like it’s clean. Then, the next day, when I’m looking for that power bill or yet another parking ticket I have to UNPILE the pile, thus returning my desk back to its natural state: chaos.

I think clean desk people are like clean car people (something else I am not.) Now, we hit an unexpected snowstorm? You want to be with me. I have no less than 3 scarves SOMEWHERE in the car, and probably some chains and DEFINITELY some flares. (Thanks, Ed Sabala.) Miss "You Do Not Eat in my Car lest there be Crumbs" Car Person ain’t gonna save you when you’re stuck in a snowdrift, I’ll tell ya that much, just like when you are in desperate need of lipgloss/deodorant/Midol/makeup brushes/low carb breakfast bars/cute notecards/altoids/extra headphones/baby shower invitations/vitamin A  I’m a safe bet over the chick in the cubicle who Lysols her desk every night before leaving. Anal bitch.

But yes. Back to my desk. This cluttered space o’ chaos actually WORKS for me. I can coexist next to my nail polish (though I’m out of remover), can work happily alongside my three iPods needing to be updated and the super-sized InStyle obscuring my "To-Do" list? I’m FINE with that; productive, really. Because you can’t really chastise yourself for not doing something you can’t SEE on the list, ya know?

Want to see just WHAT is on my desk? Click the link. Details included. In the meantime, I’ll sit here and start to pile things up. I do what I do best.

I think for a lot of women, it’s hard to put ourselves first. I know my Mom has said this especially happens after you become a wife or a mother; your needs are pushed to the wayside by the appearance (intrusion? Inclusion?) of another. I see it in my single friends, though, and I see it in myself. It’s not necessarily a lack of self-esteem, I’d instead say that it’s an inherent behavior somehow tied to our biological history of being a caregiver by nature. And so when it comes time to do so, it’s HARD. It’s also necessary, but it is HARD.

Recently I had to make some decisions where I chose to cut some people out of my life. In one particular instance, I didn’t really give him a reason except for a few things that I alluded to here on the website. I cared about this person for a long, long time and this person, over the course of four years, continued to hurt me, sometimes knowingly; other times, innocently. Regardless, after all of this time, one day it clicked…I was feeling the same things over and over again and I JUST COULDN’T DO IT ANYMORE. When we had dated, he never put me first; later on, even as a close friend, I experienced him doing it again and putting his own feelings before my own. Always.  I didn’t really give him an explanation at the time, I just did what I had to do which was cut him out of my life. There was a overwhelming sense of both relief and sadness in the decision; at times, I’ve thought about giving him an explanation in person but I’m afraid it will start up all over again and that can’t happen.

I’ve seen this, though, again even in my interactions with people as of late. I’ve been so worried about doing the right thing or saying the right thing that I’ve internalized all that I’ve needed to do, needed to say, even to the point that I begin convincing myself that my needs really WEREN’T my needs. I see this in relationships with my friends, my coworkers, my parents, even people that I’m dating. I’m so reticent to express just what it is that I need out of the relationship that I remain silent and therefore always remain disappointed. And at some point, you have to just not care anymore. Saving face means nothing if you know that by doing so you’re in a sense invalidating everything that you stand for, altering the definition of what you will and won’t accept. The line keeps getting further and further away from where it started; your tolerance for unacceptable  behavior continues to expand. And then one day, you see yourself in a place so far away from where you started, so far away from who you are and what you stand for that you realize there’s no other decision than to put yourself first, whatever that takes. Because if you don’t, who knows where you’ll end up?

It’s hard. It’s confusing to the others involved, this change in behavior; they look at it as if you’re reacting to something immediate ("Did I not call last night?") when it’s much, much more than that. It’s the culmination of the experiences – of the four years, the sixteen months, the three weeks, or whatever the timeframe – where you’ve held silent. To them, it’s coming out of the blue; to you, it’s been threatening to overtake you on every occasion, leaving you precariously perched on the edge of somewhere you never would have been should you have just discussed it at the time. Call it passive-aggressive, call it unsure in your life, call it what you will. But call it realizing who you are all over again and finally asking for what you deserve, and not settling for one thing less.

Call it me, today.

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Rockin’ the leggings, originally uploaded by Aubs.

Ok, so for most of you, it’s not so edgy. But for me, with my work uniform of jeans and some tech t-shirt I either got free here at Google or at some geek conference, it’s WAY dressed up. I resisted the whole ‘leggings’ phase even when Daisy had to write about them (as well as shirts she suggested "cinching with a belt" on a regular basis); after all, you need to have twig legs to not look chunk-o-matic in them. That, and I *LIVED* through the 80’s once, who knows if I’ll survive the fashion the second time around?

And  yet, like all things, I was slowly worn down, slowly won over by the practicality of them, especially living here in San Francisco where, in case you haven’t been listening to me lately, IT IS COLD. I swear my car registered 53 degrees and MISTY this morning when I was coming into work at, um, 11:30am.

But I digress. Leggings. Right.

So today, when I was making a BIG, MONUMENTAL, STELLAR change in my hair (to go along with all of the ones in my ridiculous drama-filled life), I figured "What the hell?" and busted out the leggings that set me back a whopping $5 should I ever decide to lose my marbles and WEAR them with the shortest jean miniskirt in the world. Because really, I’d NEVER do something like that, and $5 isn’t THAT much to waste, right?

Right.

Looks like I got my money’s worth since, clearly, I’m rockin’ the leggings. And the brown hair (that consensus has clearly decided is NOT in fact brown, just stripey.)

Point of the story: Even TRYING to be edgy, I’m still a blonde southern girl whose predilection for pink will always overshadow even the most fervent attempts otherwise.

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Google, I’m STRAIGHT!, originally uploaded by Aubs.

I worked on AdWords for nearly 3 years, and it’s a phenomenal product. Our content targeting system is usually spot-on, producing and placing relevant ads on targeted websites. However, now and again, a blog – such as mine – confuses it. After all, it *IS* a computer and can only thematically ‘read’ the page and assess what it *thinks* it’s about.

Apparently, it *THINKS* that I’m a soap-opera loving blind lesbian. Who knew?

I remember now why I’m moving back.

I’m home.

There’s things in life that can help you regain perspective, and there’s things that can easily make you lose it. Catastrophic events, unfortunately, often provide the former; happier times sometimes provides the latter.

Yet it can be much more subtle than that; an imbalance in one part of your life – be it work, love, family, or others – can tip the scales and make you lose yourself a little bit. Which is what happened lately.

I think it’s the culmination of a lot of different things, but for the past few months, I’ve been a bit lost. I’ve put aside things that make sense, pushed away people that mean a lot to me while I’ve been trying to deal with a lot of little things that add up to a big clusterfuck of existence. As such, things that really aren’t that important seemed monumental; things that actually do mean something came off as trivial. I feel like I’ve been walking in a fog, going through the motions, just trying to get by and get through the day in hopes that the next one would be different. But of course it wasn’t, because you get the same result when you do the same thing. Different actions yield different results; same begets same.

And yet something is different, something has changed; I think it’s just by being back here in my life in Atlanta, a life I left a year ago, surrounded by people that know me and can see through the ‘me’ I’ve been as of late, people that are concerned and are subtly reminding me that the person I was is the person I still am, just a bit hidden. Because I’m still there – the take-no-prisoners, let it slide off her back sorta gal that takes shit from nobody and no one.

So I must apologize for the brief interruption of Aubrey: watch out…things are about to change. I’m back.

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WHACK!, originally uploaded by Aubs.

So Snakes on a Plane – pretty friekin’ awesome. We brought the whole crew, we DEFINITELY pre (and mid and post) cocktailed and we had props. We even made the cNet podcast (go us! Yay Ryan!)

My proudest moment? That this chick is talking about us.

GO GO HAPPY HIPSTERS!

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You ready???, originally uploaded by Aubs.

So I’ve not really been myself lately…stress of this and that and that and this and who knows what else have been wrecking havoc on me in ways I didn’t even realize. I’ve found myself caring about things that, in the long run, don’t really even matter, fixating on all the changes that are ahead of me and almost paralyzed to begin something new even though I know that it’s exactly what I should be doing. Anyway, let’s just say that Xanax had become my friend…not super fun for someone who prides herself in dealing with stress relatively well (or so I thought.)

But something changed. The past two days have been different…I don’t know if it’s because the new job is around the corner (and I can’t wait!) or that some of the things that had seemed so important really aren’t or maybe it’s because I finally decided to address them head on instead of creating my own mini-drama in my head on what I *thought* was happening.

Or maybe it was just Twister.

Move over, Xanax…I’ve got a new cure. Left foot on…FUN.

Until I can get my brain to start to form complete sentences to describe what an AWESOMELY RAWKTASTIC FUN night last night was, enjoy this video full o’ DebauchAubrey. And yes, this is a pretty typical night in the SF. WHY is it that you don’t live here?