Why the Pool Was Actually The Worst

As summer is coming to an end, I started to reminisce about the days of yore when I lived and breathed for summertime. Especially when it came to the pool. But then I remembered all the asinine things about the pool and decided that only a child would love that environment.

Pool Floaties

These were intentionally the most uncomfortable things on the planet, so as to almost incentivize you into learning how to swim on your own faster. Why was the arm hole the size of a golf ball? Whose arm was that small? It took at least one full blown adult to yank those things up a child’s arm. And then you’d just go run and jump in the pool and one would effortlessly slip off and you’re left clinging for your life while the one floating arm is all that’s left keeping you alive.

Pool Shoes

Even as a child I aptly named these things “drown shoes”. I was FORCED to wear them when, usually about midway through the summer, my feet were so raw from going off the diving board all day every day that they were bleeding.

 I would wear these miniature anchors and jump off the diving board straight into a physical fitness test to see if I could get to the side of the pool without the lifeguard having to dive in. Because that’s what my awkward, muscle-less body needed: a life-or-death coordination challenge.

Adult Swim

The lifeguards timed this every-hour-on-the-hour 10 minute hiatus using microwave minutes. Every second of this bore-fest dragged on into an eternity. We were relegated to playing non-pool games which exclusively equaled foursquare.

(What kind of bullshit foursquare is this?!? Get back in your square!!)

 And then some nightmare teenager would come in and shoe shine all the younger kids, and have a tea party with their best friends and you would be forced to weirdly sit with one foot in the pool. As if having 10% of your body in the pool was comforting and also a way to “stick it to the man” and by man I mean 15 year old life guard taking a cigarette break.

(Picture these being my feet.... only with shoes on.)

Sharks and Minnows

This game is stand alone evidence that God exists. Because there was zero reason why I didn’t die playing this game. Here’s the sound logic of 12 year olds: You are outside of the pool on one side – you are a minnow. The “sharks” are in the pool on the other side. They start to swim over. You have to dive in (usually over their heads as if you were participating in an equestrian style water-pony jumping competition) and try to reach the other wall without getting tagged. 

As if that’s not dangerous enough, we added a rule that the drains at the bottom of the 10 foot deep pool were “bases” as well. So we would torpedo down to grab the drains as a ½ way safe place. The sharks got smart to this and would rip minnows off the drains, causing them to be out. So what did minnows do? JAM THEIR FINGERS INTO THE DRAINS SO WE COULDN’T GET RIPPED OFF. I hate even retelling that story.

How I Know I Wouldn't Have Made it in High School Today

I seriously don't know how kids do it. Or for that matter, their parents. Kids, regardless of the generation, will always be complete and total idiots. I was no exception, but at least my parents had the luxury of keeping my stupidity off the internet so that it didn't come back 20 years later and ruin my chances of marrying a congressman. Luckily I was able to ruin those chance myself by making this blog as an adult anyways.

Reason 1: What was I doing with my hair

Everyone says this about their middle and high school days, and it's really annoying because it takes the real attention from those of us who seriously were deranged. Don't be like "oh my gosh in 1993 I crimped my hair". Really?? In 8th grade I used SIXTEEN shiny metal barrettes to pin back the 1/2 of my head of hair that had been dedicated to hiding my forehead (which from here on out will be referred to as my five-head).

I was the only kid in 8th grade who still had bangs, or who used this contraption to schlick them back.

I also was under the impression that you should use white lipstick from wet n wild as eye shadow, and that if you got a perm and you didn't like it just rip a curling iron through your hair and don't ever curl it up-boom, makeshift straightener.

This is me at the 8th grade dance. If you can believe it, I didn't have a date


Reason 2: Fashion Choices

Again, there are a lot of thunder-stealers out there like "Oh man, I was bad, I wore acid wash jeans". You're dumb, everyone did and quite frankly they are kind of making a comeback and I hope you make that mistake again. I was COMMITTED to long sleeve shirts and shorts. As if the top half of my body was in a total different climate than the lower half.

I, without a doubt, look like I completely stole my hair decision from Lady in the movie Lady and the Tramp. I also was regretting my long sleeve shirt in the middle of summer because I've got those sleeves hiked up to my arm pits. Maybe run inside and slap on a t-shirt Ainsley. And speaking of arm pits, you might want another layer of speed stick.

Reason 3: Everything I did I thought was brilliant

This is the epidemic with today's youth, and what will be their downfall. In 30 years the president of the United States will have to be someone who grew up poor and didn't have a smart phone. Which I'm on board with #LandOfOpportunity

This is me being EXTREMELY impressed with myself that I could "surf".

Granted this is not a picture of me surfing, but it's suggesting that I did. It didn't dawn on me that the fact that I was able to stand on a ironing board intended for the Hulk and ride a 6 inch wave for 4 seconds wasn't really something to capture on camera. But up until now this embarrassment has been in my private collection. If this were me today, it would have blown up instagram #surfing #beach #ilovetosurf #surfergurl #ripcurl #iloveflorida #hangten #charliesangels #surf


Lastly, I don't have a category for this picture because it honestly fits all of the above.

Horrible hair, check. Long sleeve t-shirt and shorts combo (Tommy Jeans for life!), check. Standing next to a flower bed in what appears to be a parking lot and thinking that was picture worthy, check. I'd also like to point out that there was absolutely no reason why we had to face the sun in the middle of the day. This is why I had to get botox starting at age 24. My five-head didn't stand a chance against all of those UV rays. Also, my mom looks like she's seriously holding me hostage. Maybe my dad was like "squint if you're a prisoner". #iloveyoumom

The Week I Spent Learning How to Be a Leader

I recently got to spend a week in Belgium, paid for by my company, so that I could learn the tricks of the trade when it comes to being a leader. I am on this team with colleagues from all over the world. The word “global” gets used to describe this a lot. What could possibly go wrong.

The theme of this trip was to connect with nature and team building. This little excursion took place in what I can only describe as Mount Everest. “What? Mount Everest isn’t in Belgium!” you might say. And I can say that you are officially wrong because I traipsed up and down the mountains so many times I can confirm it was in fact the tallest mountain in the world.

First of all, the company putting this on was called Unicorn. And the “coaches” that taught us things were called Unicorn Coaches. UNICORN COACHES! That is officially the best job title on the planet.

It's like this, plus a clipboard and whistle.

We did a lot of hiking with maps. The first challenge grouped us in teams and dropped us at a random place for 10 minutes to “check out the scenery”, and then the plan was to drive us somewhere else, drop us off with a map, and see if we can find our way back on foot to the original site. The path to drive us there was this:

I felt like One. Million. Dollars. Cue the car sickness. Then my team assembles to figure things out. We have two options: we can go left along the gravel road, or right down into the pit of hell on what looks like it used to be a trail during the battle of the Bulge. We naturally go right into Hades, and if you can believe it, that was NOT the correct direction. So, we get to drag our sorry selves BACK up the cliff face. At this point people are literally passing out. We lose.

Day 2 is a solo adventure. Same kind of concept, but by yourself. At a certain point I’m actually running through a cow pasture and bolting into a forest by myself in Belgium. Wearing lion king themed pants.

Then I hit a clearing and see a path. That’s a good looking path. As I run down I think to myself “man, all the paths here are super steep!”. Are they, Ainsley? Are they? Or is that the SAME EXACT DEMON DEAD-END PATH you went down yesterday. So I, AGAIN, have to drag myself, AGAIN, back up that stupid mountain. Then I meet up with the Russian guy who has also been scorned by that she-devil of a cliff and we team up and finish the challenge together. Russia guy and I are now friends for life. He’s the closest I will ever come to having a brother in arms.

The worst part about day 2 was that I had to admit to everyone what I had done. Including the guy that looks EXACTLY like the guy from the TV show Carrie Diaries who was on my Day 1 team.  It was a real tuck-your-tail-between-your-legs moment.

Day 3 and 4 are both just as hike-y and just as tough, but to be fair I was learning a lot about leadership and how long I could go wearing the same sports bra. I was clearly unprepared for all the “moderate” physical activity that equaled 5 miles of hike-running a day.

When I left, I looked like a drowned rat. Partially because I forgot to bring shampoo, partially because I was completely out of clothes, and partially because all it does over there is rain. I feel like a better person for the trip. I’m one with nature. I’m on board with being an effective leader.   I’ve made really good friends and dealt with the pain of embarrassing myself on a global scale. It was all in all a win. And a jump start to a work out regimen that is not maintainable.

Grown Up Disney Facts

So when I’m working on something at work and I don’t want to be disturbed, I put my headphones on and listen to music. It in no way keeps people away from my desk, but it does give me the chance to listen to Disney radio on Pandora. As I was listening to these songs from my childhood, I started to notice things… things that I did NOT pick up on as a child, but that gnaw at me as an adult. How were these obvious truths lost on me? Was I that oblivious? Apparently.

Movie Number 1: Beauty and The Beast

Newly Realized Fact: Gaston and Lefou are in love with each other

There are multiple MULTIPLE song and dance numbers that would prove my point. Highest ranking on that list is the ode to Gaston, sung by Lefou. The song is actually called “Gaston”. Lefou LITERALLY says “every guy here would like to be you Gaston, even when you’re taking lumps”. First of all, gross. Also he says “in a wrestling match, no one bites like Gaston”. So apparently Lefou is under the impression that what they do behind closed doors is just “wrestling”. 

Maybe their friendship blossomed during an innocent bout of MMA style play-fighting. The heart wants what the heart wants, and Gaston was obviously sexually confused and frustrated and took it all out on Belle for rejecting him. I can’t believe Belle held it together and didn’t call him out on this. She’s a better woman than I am.

Additional Newly Realized Fact: What the heck is going on in that mansion?!

I guess I always just chocked it up to “magic” but I started to ponder what was going on before the mansion was put under a curse, and I’ve got to be honest, it was super screwed up pre-witch. 

What the HECK was that spider carriage before it became alive?! Did he literally have an inanimate spider carriage sitting around? Where do they get all the food they eat? Who’s running out to buy food? Is this mansion like it’s own biodome and it’s 100% self sufficient? At a certain point Beast “gifts” Belle with his library. He clearly doesn’t understand the concept of a gift.

 That’s like if I went home and found a candle I have had for years and don’t really care for and just gave it to someone as a birthday gift, but they have to come over to my house to light it and use it. She should have turned around and been like “here I’m surprising you with this bathroom on the 2^nd floor that was already there. You’re welcome.”

Movie Number 2: The Little Mermaid

Newly Realized Fact: Eric is an asshole and he’s going to cheat on Ariel

Eric couldn’t be flakier. First of all he’s a sailor. That’s equivalent to a modern day pilot, complete with hoes in different area codes. Second, he obviously likes Ariel, but doesn’t want to commit because she’s not perfect, so he puts her on the back burner and strings her along til someone better comes along. We all had this happen to a friend, and we all know how it ends. 

Look at him. Completely emotionless. And don't be like "he was under a spell". That's bullshit.

He meets and marries someone else in the span of 12 hours. And ok, alright, ok, alright, he didn’t go through with the wedding but I mean, he was a microsecond away from it. If I were Ariel’s friend today I would tell her to take her little flipper tail and skedaddle before she’s 12 years in to this no-commit relationship and he accidentally leaves his phone unlocked and she goes through it. Also Ariel is 16. Slow down crazy. Slow. Down.

Movie Number 3: The Lion King

Newly Realized Fact: Timon and Pumba have an undiscovered food allergy

I mean, if Pumba isn’t singing about farting in every song, it because he’s busy farting. No one is that gassy. He’s probably allergic to one of those bugs he eats. 

Also, down that vein, are we to believe that Simba eats bugs from childhood to adulthood and comes out totally fine? I think lions have to eat something like 90 pounds of meat in a single meal, and that lasts them about 4 hours. Ladybugs aren’t going to get him there.

 And I get that he’s the rightful king of the pride, but I mean, what a flop. There has to be someone more qualified to run things while he figures out how to behave a lion instead of a bloated warthog. And Nala needs to cut her losses and get with someone who isn’t going to be such a social liability.

I mean… Vegas.

The concept of "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas" is completely lost on me. For starters, good luck remembering what happened in Vegas. And secondly, if you and your crew can collectively puzzle piece the events together based on pictures and text messages from the night before- change the facts to protect the innocent and write a blog about it.

There were 5 of us in Vegas this past weekend celebrating Banana's bachelorette party. Greatlyn planned the event, Magenta came along with Banana from their home town, Schlaura the groom's sister, and Painsley (me obviously, but I wanted a cool nick name as well) met up with the crew Wednesday night. I would like to go on the record that 4 nights inVegas is 1 too many. The first night, when we arrived, we thought we'd take it easy. We went to bed at 4am.

Day 1:

I would like to tell this portion of the story from memory. However, the drinks at the pool went down in price as they got bigger. So with a regular sized drink costing $18, I chose the biggest size for a nickel. This came in a wheelbarrow. This was going to be a lot of calories, so it made total sense to me to skip lunch to accommodate. The rest of this story is based on what my friends said happened.

My inner monologue becomes outer monologue on this trip. so as we walk inside to get lunch I see a rent a cop and decide we need to chat. The conversation went like this:

Painsley: "Hi! Are you a cop?"

Benjamin: "No, I'm an EMT"

Painsley: "Why does your star-badge have seven points?"

Benjamin: "no clue"

Painsley: "you should know that. It's probably a secret. Where's your gun?"

Benjamin: "I'm an EMT, we don't shoot people"

Painsley: "how can you be a cop with no gun? Where's your handcuffs?"

Benjamin: "I'm an EMT..."

Painsley: "where's your taser"

Benjamin:"......."

Magenta: "where's your billy stick?!"

You can always trust Magenta to have your back. Even the next day when we were informed that Ben was an EMT, I exclaimed that he should have made that clear and Magenta reasoned that maybe he was a medical cop.

Night 2:

We find out that a group of girls in Vegas can get into the clubs for free, get a VIP table, for free, and get all of our drinks provided by the club, for free. The beauty of a VIP table is you get a couch to sit on and a velvet rope to keep the riffraff out. When we learned this we all collectively decided that we had won the lottery. We also decided that we should take a good group picture before we head in. This is what we managed to produce.

Not every group of girls gets this treatment, but there's a reason. This girl was so flabbergasted she also didn't have a table. I told her its because she decided to dress like Evander Holyfield and it wasn't a Halloween themed bar.

There are no windows in the entire city of Las Vegas. And no one in the group was the "Big Ben". Most groups have at least 1 person that can't stop being a human coo-coo clock, informing you of what time it is as if you'd asked them. I call those people Big Ben.  We did not have one. This translated into getting 4 hours of sleep that night.

Day 2: 

We were all on a serious power trip after realizing what our group could get us for free. It was approximately 10 minutes at the pool before we were let into the private club at the pool to lounge on a cushioned bed for free. The issue with this was there was 5 of us on 1 queen sized bed. Our natural tendency was to lay like the grandpas and grandmas laid in Willy Wonka so we could all fit. This translated into a lots of toes going into peoples eyes. Also the towels were made of burlap.

Before being allowed to enter the pool club they had to do an 112 point inspection of all of our purses, looking for roofies that we were apparently going to slip ourselves since we were the only girls there. How they managed to check between the credit cards in my wallet and missed Banana's full medicine bottle of antibiotics was beyond me. This turned out to be a topless pool (our tops stayed on) and we all came up with our favorite new names for pepperoni nipples. I preferred pizza bagel bite nipples.

Night 3 went exactly like night 2. Different location. And instead of an Evander Holyfield doppelgänger we saw a girl that made the grumpy cat face when she danced. My biggest regret of this trip is not getting a picture of that.

Day 3:

We all decide that we could have gone home today. But we're going to make the best of the fact that we've been her for 60 hours and gotten 10 total hours of sleep. We avoid the pool club and drain club sodas at the regular pool all day. 

Forgetting to eat lunch again, we grabbed something at 4 pm. It's a good thing we did because Heather Dubrow from the real housewives of Orange County and her family walked into the restaurant. Of course I wasn't facing her and Magenta was, so I made her put her sunglasses on so I could stare at her in the reflection of her glasses. Magenta thought I was kidding at first. 

That's her husband!

Greatlyn couldn't believe how stupid Magenta and I were being about a D list celebrity and meanwhile we forced everyone to stay on the patio so long to watch that one of Greatlyns ears got sunburned. Just 1. I blame myself.

Night 4 we all knew we couldn't do anything but no one wanted to admit it. So as we're slowly getting ready I proclaim that I have to fart so bad that I can't go to the club. I mean, I'm wearing white jeans, that's a recipe for disaster and everyone agreed. I popped 3 beano pills, called it a night, and we all finally got some sleep.

The Day Ryan Almost Robbed a Five Thousand Year Old Lady

Ok, so obviously that's an exaggeration. He didn't come close to robbing her. He was actually sitting on the same bench as she was and set his hand down and her purse was there. Which obviously translated into me yelling "oh my gosh Ryan do not steal that lady's purse" so he would be embarrassed. She was, however, approximately 5,000 years old. Which got me to thinking, had he pulled off this heist without me calling him out, what exactly was he going to make away with.

1. Strawberry/Vanilla/Chocolate sugar free wafers

The package should describe these as "mildly flavored styrofoam" or more accurately "something you might not technically be able to digest but you can't explain why you're still eating them". These "cookies" lived in my grandmother's purse. She always had them. To the point where I am almost positive her purse manufactured them. It certainly was a large enough purse to house a manufacturing plant. And I, as a child, was so deprived of cookies that I would willingly eat these. Yes, when you bit down the wafers turned to cookie-shards of glass and severed your mouth. Also, I'm certain these didn't expire. It's not like they were going to go stale. These cookies invented stale.

2. A pick

That wig is not going to maintain itself. Also, I'm pretty sure they only use the long pointy stabbing device at the end to fluff it up. How 5 long thick pieces of plastic would ever accomplish anything involving hair is beyond me. Especially since old lady fingers are the human equivalent to long pieces of plastic. They have 2 built in picks already on them, but I guarantee you they've got a pick in their purse.

3. A Jitterbug

To be honest, I would love a jitterbug. To be free of the shackles that society and social media puts on us, to exclusively be able to call no more than 4 people, two of those options being your daughter's cell and then her home phone. It's only socially acceptable for people that are about a million to have these devises, and I find that the age version of racist. I think that's called agist. ragist. It's not fair. Also, I will never forget the catchy tune for the jitterbug commercials. It's like they are appealing to their target demographic by playing a tune from their heyday - the 20s.

4. Half of a stick of gum

I thought that old lady's purses would be where you could find the worlds oldest piece of gum until I opened the center console of Ryan's car. Apparently after a century gum changes flavor, state, viscosity, and color. I will never know why old ladies have 14 half sticks of juicy fruit in their purse. Who is chewing that? And don't say my dad because everyone knows that Bill has chewed full pieces of juicy fruit for the past 3 decades. I'm convinced these ladies are just taking full pieces and ripping them in half and then putting them back in their purse to coagulate at the bottom, with the wafer crumbs.

5. Worther's Original and Horehounds

Worther's Original is addictive. Bottom line. It has never ever won in a competition against any other candy, including smarties, but when it's you're only option, it wins, every time. I feel like worther's commercials are pretending like it's the candy from the good old days. Like "take a stroll down memory lane with a Worther's". That cannot be the best memory of the good old days. That is a candy from the depression.

And the only candy worse than that is horehounds. They are flavored like a piece of wood that has been soaking in a creek for about 3 weeks. Your teeth will lose in a battle against this candy. But they come in a bag and each piece is coated in a white powder. Obviously cocaine or why would people keep eating them.


Am I glad Ryan didn't rob this lady? Yes. I really like that restaurant and I want to go back. But we did miss out on some sweet loot in the process.

Why Bob Ross Taught Me Every Life Lesson I Need

I work with an Italian that has lived here in America for about a year and a half, and I have made it my personal mission to teach him all things USA so that he feels like he’s one of us. Needless to say, watching Bob Ross paint a landscape is a requisite. In rewatching an episode I realized something. Bob Ross has taught me every valuable life lesson I'll ever need. Through the language of paint and love. And hair. Side note, if you don't know who Bob Ross is, ask your mom for permission to go on youtube (because you better be under the age of 12) and look him up.

You Should Trust People

Well obviously not everyone (Ted Bundy yourself) but in general, this is true. You know how he taught me this? Because he would have a painting that I would, in my infinite 5 year old wisdom, deem finished. And then, like a bat out of hell he’d streak across the whole canvas a crooked, pitch-black line. Right down the middle. I would literally say out loud “WHY!!?!? IT’S RUINED!”.

(Oh yes Bob, let's put gigantic white blobs in the pond. That's a GREAT IDEA!!!)

 And it was like he heard me because he’d be like “We don’t make mistakes, we make happy accidents”. Alright, you paintbrush wielding Yoda, prove it. And he would. EVERY TIME!

Boom, that's the finished product WHHHHAAAATTTT.T.T.T.T.!?

Everyone Deserves To Be Happy

I mean, I refuse to believe he has ever painted a tree that was in the doldrums. Even every leaf was a happy little leaf. 

Not just that, they had BACK STORIES! “Maybe this tree, when he was a baby, got trampled on by a great big moose and this branch is a little crooked. He’s not sad about it though, because that moose helped make him who he is today. You don’t have to be perfect, the crooked lines are what makes us who we are”. Was I a little self conscious that a tree was more self aware and confident than I will ever be? Absolutely. Am I uncomfortable that one of my current role models is apparently a leaf that is happy when he falls off and dies because something beautiful will come from him? Clearly. Bob set the standard a bit high.

You Do You

Bob Ross will never be accused of trying to be anyone but Bob Ross. His hair defied the laws of physics, fashion and might have even been illegal in certain states (not Texas, obviously – Higher the hair the closer to God). 

I like to think that he donated his body to science when he died to research how his hair did that. Maybe we can harness the magic and make a hover craft, which in my opinion is about a decade overdue. Hashtag George Jetson. I’m also jumping to the conclusion that Bob died and am too lazy to google it so if he didn’t – whoops.

Sometimes Colors are Bullshit

Whatever portion of this lesson I didn’t already learn from Crayola (Damn you burnt sienna for looking like you’re brown and being straight up orange) Bob solidified with the paint names he used.

                                                            (These trees are "purple".)

 “Oh we’re going to use Caspian Sea blue for the leaves” – and I’m like “Bob you’re high on paint fumes, trees aren’t blue, this isn’t the movie Avitar”. And lo and behold, Caspian Sea Blue is secretly tree leaf green. What. WHAT?! How many ponds did he make that mistake with before he realized it? Probably as many times as I drew orange horses with a burnt sienna crayon. Also, yes I see the glaring plot hole in me being 5 and having referenced Avitar. I stand by it.

(Brunt Sienna my ass, I don't even know what a sienna is, but i do know that if you burn it it gets real deceptive)