ASH AMBIRGE

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Because You Don’t Want to Show Up At The Pearly Gates With a Big Ass Moral Hangover.

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired

The phrase is simple: Goma moral.

Here, where I am in Costa Rica, it translates into “moral hangover,” and you've got one if you stayed out too late, drank too much, said something you regret, or acted in any way irresponsibly the day before…and you feel guilty as sin. Forget the physical hangover; the moral one is the one that'll get you. The one that hijacks early-morning positivity and manhandles it right into the trunk of a Caddy, causing you to wonder if you'll ever (…ever?) get it together.

And so I began to think: We all get moral hangovers from time to time. They're the feeling you get when you last-minute cancel on a friend. When you lash out in an email. And when you know damn well those enchiladas you've been eating every other day for lunch are the devil disguised in ooey, gooey drippy sharp white cheddar that slides down the back of your throat and simultaneously satisfies the fuck out of you AND makes you see red, all at once, because you know you shouldn't have BUT AT LEAST IT'S NOT CRACK.

Have you ever justified something to yourself that way before? I do it all the time.

I might drink all of these funky branded wines in one sitting…but at least I don't do crack.

I occasionally splurge on this outrageously obnoxious $153 facial moisturizerbut at least I don't do crack.

I love ignoring all my emails and staying up late to watch every single episode of 2 Broke Girls because I think Max is my long lost sibling and I'd wear Caroline's stupid pearls every single day for the rest of my life if I could look even 5% like her, BUT AT LEAST I DON'T DO CRACK.

Let me tell you: There's no kind of goma moral like spending the night throwing back five bottles of wine while dipping your pinky toe in rich people moisturizer and vowing to become more like a bunch of made-up TV characters all before dawn.

But here's a thought:
What if goma moral gets worse?

What if you spend your entire life blowing off what's really important to you?

Blowing off your heart promises.
Blowing off your bucket list.
Blowing off your business.
Blowing off yourself.

What kind of goma moral will you have then?

What kind of goma moral will you have when the boarding gate closes? When you could have, but didn't? When we can no longer decide who we become because who we've become has already decided for us?

Goma moral. While the phrase itself is simple, life, unfortunately, isn't.

Because in life, the only thing that's simple?

Is the decision to live it.

At the very best, you'll end up telling goma moral to kiss your ass.

And at the very worst?

You'll end up totally sucking, doing something you hate, and crying in bed at night while your bank account dwindles to a slow burn as you claw onto your last shreds of dignity before throwing your hands in the air and resorting to a promising career in off-track horse betting.

But, hey? At least you don't do crack.

Because if there's one thing I know for sure—

—it's that crack heads definitely can't afford a jar of that moisturizer, and this might be the first time that a regular hangover?

Is the better outcome.

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I’m writing this from a place that could almost be mistaken for the Italian countryside, were I not surrounded by lizards and toucans and bullfrogs the size of a fucking dinosaur. Rather, I am high up in the hills of Central America overlooking the Costa Rican valley from my squishy, pancake lounger—it sort of reminds me of […]

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It’s 2:42 in the morning and the reason I’m awake is called CHARDONNAY. People talk about getting old—buying crock pots, nonchalantly cutting your spouse’s armpit hairs, relating more to The Golden Girls than The Gilmore Girls—but they do not prepare you for the one thing that will change your life even more than tiny packets of GrillMates: […]

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I Hate Mantras, And YET—I Love This One for When You’re Kinda Sorta Shitting Your Pants

I have a mantra (despite wanting to slit my throat upon hearing the word “mantra.”) Are you ready? My mantra is this: WHO CARES HOW YOU FEEL ABOUT IT? GO ANYWAY. Which sounds really kinda wrong, right? We’re a culture based on f-e-e-e-e-e-e-l-i-n-g-s. But sometimes, you have to override the ones that I call false […]

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired, Feeling Disillusioned With Life

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2010

Slugs, Angel Hair Pasta & Vespas, Or, The One Thing That DOES Define You In This Life

So, I’m sitting in the bar at this restaurant. I’m lovingly twirling my fork into a steamy, lemony, buttery, most delightfully angelic heap of angel hair–the creamy, makes-you-throw-your-head-back-with-glee kind of pasta that, I was thinking, should probably be forbidden for nuns, because, I swear, this pasta is far more decadent than the best sex you […]

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2012

Always Do. You’ll Be Glad You Did.

If you walked in the door right now, I don’t know if I’d run and hug you hard, or if you’d seem like a stranger now. I’d like to think that I’d hug you. I’d like to think that I’d bury my face into your chest and you’d smell like your old cologne–which kind, I […]

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired

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