ASH AMBIRGE

Author, CEO & Founder

Learn More >>

I Got You Something! Happy Holidays, Sexpot. (Also: Worms, Vomiting and Fire Extinguishers).

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired

I love Christmas.

I'm a sucker for the jingle bells and little white lights, which I shamelessly string EVERYWHERE. What's that, a bathroom vent? Must! Have! Lights!

My mom and I used to make these “Italian Christmas Cookies,” which I'm pretty sure was not the official name, but since we had the recipe scrawled across some wrinkled piece of paper from the 1800's, who am I to say?

I'm also pretty sure these cookies were the sole culprit of my “big-boned” childhood. Therefore, I cannot decide if I should make them in the name of tradition, or tell those cookies to fuck right off, in the name of my waistline. Decisions.

One thing I do know, however, is that this month has featured anything BUT my big-boned self rockin' around the Christmas Tree.

Why?

Well for starters, because I don't have a Christmas tree.

Partly because I've got an above average fear of pine needles infiltrating EVERYTHING, and partly because the Christmas trees here in Costa Rica DON'T HAVE PINE NEEDLES.

Which makes sense, I suppose, given that you can't expect a pine tree to grow in a tropical climate. Which I should have remembered from the third grade when we learned about coniferous trees, but THAT DOESN'T MAKE ME ANY LESS BITTER ABOUT IT.

The cypress trees they use here just aren't the same. *shakes fist in Italian-like manner*

In addition to that, there's been more Christmas fun!

:: Last night, I had a dream that there were worms all over my car.

:: My boobs are huge and hurty and swollen for no apparent reason.

:: Some man left a Facebook comment on the TMF page quoting the bible, telling me I was going to burn in a lake. Does this mean I should I be hoarding fire extinguishers?

:: This past week I had a stomach bug, causing me to vomit so hard I broke all of the blood vessels in my face. (There is no such thing as TMI here at TMF.)

:: I have silver pieces of glitter in unspeakable places, thanks to the silver decorations I bought to be all Martha Stewart.

:: My roots need to be dyed.

:: I'm questioning my intelligence, after beating my brains out trying to put together a 1,000 piece puzzle. (This is what I do on Saturday nights, these days.)

:: The $40 bottle of Tempranillo wine I bought WAS DISGUSTING.

:: Mariah Carey is a snotty bitch and I hate her Christmas songs.

:: I still don't know what Yuletide Greetings is suppose to mean. Is that Russian?

:: I have no idea where I'm going to go or what I'm going to do for the holiday, which has me stressing out so much I actually got a pimple. I do not get pimples. It's the ONE THING I've been blissfully blessed with. NO PIMPLES. Not when I was 14, and not now. Except for right now. Because right now, I HAVE A PIMPLE. A big, mean one next to my mouth. And I'm blaming it all on the fact that there are no pine trees, I'm apparently going to meet my demise by being burnt to death while simultaneously drowning in a lake, and the only good thing about that is that no one will be able to identify the body and see how bad my roots really were at time of death.

Happy fucking holidays.

That said, we really should lighten things up around here.

I want to get all Christmas-ey with you.

If I could, I'd invite you to my house, have a stocking on the wall with your name on it, and convince you to cuddle with me by the fireplace. (While the A/C was on full blast, of course–this is Costa Rica, after all.) You could teach me how to make eggnog, and I'll teach you how to drink it. A fair trade, if I do say so myself.

But since I can't invite you to my real house–on such short notice, at least–I thought I'd do the next best thing, and invite you to my TMF house.

Imagine your stocking hanging on the side of the webpage, Christmas music playing in the background (I particularly like Baby, It's Cold Outside), and all of those silver decorations I mentioned hung in some sort of artistic arrangement that actually looks like someone actually knew what they were doing. (Surely that someone is not me.)

And then I hand you a hot cup of wine, reach out to you, and say: –

“Happy Holidays–I'm so grateful you're here. I got you something! *walks you over to the (annoyingly Cypress) Christmas tree* *hands you gorgeously wrapped box with teal-colored bow* Now, where's the mistletoe?”

Because that's exactly what it would be like.

And while we can't reenact that exact scenario, I do have a gift for you.

My gratitude for your support, (cheesy, I know.) A big smackeroo on the lips, (because people just don't give out smackeroos enough), and a Top Gun high five.

Because in 2013? We're going to kill it.

Now, about those fire extinguishers…Anybody know where I can get a bulk rate?

Jul 12

2016

To the Woman With the Fake Smile: Stop It, You Fucking Pigeon

Jul 12, 2016

Can we all just stop, already? Stop apologizing. Stop saying sorry. Stop shrinking into some small little ball-less version of yourself—you know, so you don’t make all the other ball-less twats feel uncomfortable. Or risk offending somebody. Or do something controversial. Or doing all of that and then totally screwing it up and feeling stupid. […]

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired

READ ME >>

Oct 23

2012

How to Be a Human.

Oct 23, 2012

I sat in a plaza yesterday, behind La Moneda–Chile’s version of The White House. Diagonal paths come from all directions and meet up in the center, before darting off in opposite directions. People walk gruffly, generally ignoring one another–cell phones, busy faces, stern looks, fast paces. And just like in plazas everyday across the world… […]

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired

READ ME >>

Mar 30

2017

When Following the Crowd is GOOD FOR YOU.

Mar 30, 2017

So the other day, it happened. There was one person stubborn enough to finally coerce me into doing the one thing I’d promised I’d never do. I’d hedged for many painful weeks. (Okay, fine, months.) I’d squirmed and I’d squithered (new favorite word) and I’d writhed and I’d wriggled. And yet, she kept asking. “Today […]

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired

READ ME >>

May 18

2017

When You Feel Like a Hot Mess Full of Walking Contradictions and WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT IS YOUR LIFE?

May 18, 2017

You don’t have to choose, you know. You can be intelligent…and sensual. Extroverted…and introverted. Complex…and simple. You…and someone who’s evolving into someone else. Sometimes, in an effort to finally define who the fuck we are, we start putting ourselves into the little boxes voluntarily—the same ones that we spent our earlier years trying to escape. […]

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired, Feeling Disillusioned With Life

READ ME >>

Mar 9

2017

There’s No Such Thing as The Committee of True & Actual Greatness™

Mar 9, 2017

You know what’s the absolute worst? Waiting in line at the doctor’s office. There’s a lot of anxiety around that, am I right? Nobody likes waiting at the doctor’s office because we all secretly think that the doctor’s just sitting behind a closed door somewhere, doing wheelies in an office chair, watching the minutes churn […]

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired

READ ME >>

Apr 25

2010

White Men Can’t Jump, But They’ve Got Other Tricks Up Their Sleeves: The (Unearned) Privilege of Being White

Apr 25, 2010

Here’s a little something to ponder: Band Aids. What comes to mind? Perhaps a small, rectangular piece of flexible plastic with adhesive that sticks to your skin and pulls at your little hairs when you finally tear it off, bringing back unpleasant memories of your last Brazilian wax. No? I should leave the Brazilian wax […]

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired

READ ME >>

Jul 20

2012

Stay Foolish. Stay Wise. Have CONFIDENCE.

Jul 20, 2012

Rules–particularly the dogmatic variety–are most useful for those who aren’t confident enough to make their own damn decisions.   For the rest of us, there’s vodka–so we can cope with the decisions we were foolishly wise enough to make.   So help us, Grey Goose.   Amen. -Excerpt from my forthcoming book, The Middle Finger […]

In: Feeling Dead and Uninspired

READ ME >>

I'm a Bad Influence on Women

Hey, I’m Ash! Twenty years ago I was a small town girl growing up in a trailer park in rural Pennsylvania. Fifteen years ago, I lost my family and everything I knew right as I became the first to graduate college. Fourteen years ago, I found myself leaving everything behind for a new life in the city where I could be “normal.” Ten years ago I realized normal was the most disappointing thing that ever happened to me. Nine years ago I quit my job in advertising and pursued my dreams as a creative writer. Eight years ago, I built a 6-figure business doing what I love using nothing more than the Internet and my voice. And now, today, I’m the founder of The Middle Finger Project, an irreverent media co. that helps other women find their voice and teaches them to use it to build whatever the f*ck they want to. With a book coming out with Penguin Random House in February 2020 (YASSS, WE’RE A PRODUCT IN TARGET!) I’m proud to be a bad influence on women and guide them into doing something disobediently brave with their life and their career.

Enter your email address and I’ll send you my advice column every week sharing everything I’ve learned—and so much more.

But no serial killers. I promise I won’t send those.

Privacy Policy Info Here