Tag: Living

The One-Hour Rule for Loving the Sh*t Out of Your Life

A few years ago, there was this tacky term that made everybody cringe but also made everybody drool with wonder: lifestyle design. (Okay, fine, it was like ten years ago and I’m officially ancient.) The term always annoyed me, because it was widely represented by a bunch of twenty-something hopefuls traveling the world with their laptops (okay, fine, it was me), and the whole thing just reeked of one big, cheesy platitude. Not to be confused with a cheese plate,

24 Ways to Love Yourself Fiercely + Bravely—Even When You’re Feeling Like a Heaping Hot Mess

Loving yourself means: The courage to reject their opinion. A kind, but firm: “This is what I want.” Remembering to be a mother to yourself, every single day. Asking more questions: What do I really crave? Does this make sense for me, personally? Does this feel heavy or light (or fucking dreadful?). Asking fewer questions: I cannot make a mistake if I’m doing what I love. Everything always works itself out in the end. Don’t overthink it—go, go, go. Keeping

You Are Stronger Than You Were Yesterday

Hear ye, hear ye, let it be known that I, Ash Ambirge, am officially in love with the SWEAT app. (If you also spend too much time at the computer like a hunchback homie, listen up!) For the longest time I was like: how in the HOPPING JALAPEÑO does someone exercise with an app? I pictured myself watching this tiny, horrible video on my phone, from across the room, hating life, and wanting to punch some peppy person who said

25 Things I Stopped Doing This Year (Because, Money, Sex and Sanity, Ya’ll)

Responding to non-essential text messages during work hours. I love my friends, but let’s be honest: this is the digital equivalent of twenty people popping in to your house unannounced all. day. long. We don’t need another productivity hack: we need to turn off the damn phone. It’s physically, mentally and emotionally impossible to get anything done when you’re constantly being distracted—even if it is fun. But that’s precisely the problem: socializing 24/7 has been normalized. If someone asked you

“It’s Too Dangerous to Travel.” (And Other Hard Conversations I Had While Driving Through Rural America.)

“It’s too dangerous.” Three little words I kept hearing over and over again when I visited the United States this fall. At dinner tables from Boston to Philadelphia, and everywhere in between—specifically many rural towns, as I was in search of autumn—we would talk about where I live in Costa Rica. How I had spent the summer in London. How I had married two of my best friends in Mexico. How I had lived in Chile, all those years, and

To The People Who Keep Asking Me When I’m Having a Baby

“When are you having a baby?” “You’d be a great mom.” “You’ll regret it later if you don’t.” “You HAVE to have kids!” …and I used to think people were pushy about making me try seafood. Though the decision not to have children actually reminds me of that: people are really convinced you’re making a mistake. YOU’LL REALLY LOVE LOBSTER IF YOU TRY IT THIS WAY, they say, boring into my soul with their crazy eyes. From what I can

“Is It Really Better Out There?” For Those Who Grew Up In a Small Town and Left.

We rolled down the country road in a white pick-up truck, a six pack in the back seat and nostalgia in the air. His beard was that of a proper mountain man, eyes as blue as high school. We were coming down off the mountain after an afternoon of shooting—as in actual guns. I’d never shot a gun before—am I even allowed to do this as a liberal?—but another forever friend had graciously insisted. “Come over on Saturday,” he had

Self-Care Isn’t Always Glamorous.

Sooooo, it’s the holidays, and you know what that means? We all need to figure out how the hell we’re going to take care of our drooling, forgetful, overwhelmed selves, come the new year. (Oh, you’re not drooling and forgetful? GET OFF MY YARD.) Which brings up the topic of self-care. Jesus christ we’re bad at this, aren’t we? We’ve got more awareness around the importance of, you know, taking a minute to sh*t without our phones, and yet, it

There’s No Such Thing As An Idea That *Isn’t* Offensive

You know what I’m grateful for? Fucking. NOT LIKE THAT, SICKO. Although, I mean, I guess…wait. Let me start again. I like the word fucking because it’s representative of something so much bigger than that, which is the real thing I’m grateful for: freedom of expression. Remember that cute little First Amendment? It says that the government can’t forbid us from saying and writing what we like and we can actually EXPRESS OUR OWN IDEAS. Novel, right? Which is why

Stop Waiting to “Be Ready.” Or “Have Your Ducks in a Row.” Or Until the Baby is Born, or the House is Built, or the Kids Are Older / More Independent / Less of a Pain in the Ass.

I hear people talk about job security all the time, as if this were a real thing. But people really seem to like the concept, you know? I mean, I can’t think of anything more comforting than 40 years of standing in an elevator every day with Lou from HR. <Wide, delirious eyes.> I’m not sure why that’s the rationale—it would terrify me to rely on so many external variables to determine whether or not I earn an income. It’s