Ashley Ream
Dispatches from the City of Angels

I'm a writer and humorist living in and writing about Los Angeles. You can catch my novel LOSING CLEMENTINE out March 6 from William Morrow. In the meantime, feel free to poke around. Over at my website you can find even more blog entries than I could fit here, as well as a few other ramblings. Enjoy and come back often.
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Favorite Quotes:
"Taint what a horse looks like, it’s what a horse be." - A Hat Full of Sky by Terry Pratchett

"Trying to take it easy after you've finished a manuscript is like trying to take it easy when you have a grease fire on a kitchen stove." - Jan Burke

"Put on your big girl panties, and deal with it." - Mom

"How you do anything is how you do everything."


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Like Having a Monkey Piss on Your Head

There is something to be said for low expectations. Sure, I'd noticed that the water pressure in my shower had been slowly decreasing for sometime. I noticed it in the way you notice that your oven might not be properly calibrated. Yes, you burned the frozen pizza, but are you actually going to call somebody to fix the oven? Of course not. You're a normal person. You live in pain. You expect to suffer.

So that's probably why I let the shower get that bad. I didn't even notice it was that bad, not until my father came to visit.

"Standing in your shower is like having a monkey piss on your head."

(Someone with higher expectations might have been offended by that.)

"Do you want me to fix it?" he asked.

"I dunno. I'm kind of used to being peed on."

(Grumbling noises mixed with the sound of the tool box being opened.)

"Do you have any pliers?"

I knew my husband wasn't home, but I looked around for him or anyone else that might be able to answer that question. The dust bunnies remained mute. Useless fuckers.

"Umm...yes?"

"Okay, found them. Do you have any plumber's tape?"

I'd had luck with this answer before, so I went with it again. "Umm...yes?"

"Where is it?"

Dammit. An extra credit question.

"Isn't it in there?" I really had no idea where "there" was.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. Here it is."

Ha! Successful living through guesswork.

My father padded into the bathroom wearing his robe and carrying things that were presumably "pliers" and "plumber's tape."

There was banging. I have more than thirty years experience in not looking when my father fixes things. It tends to be, shall we say, upsetting. If you're the sort of person who might be upset with a giant hole in the wall, for example, or possibly flames.

Five minutes later: "Did you know your (thingy-ma-bobber I can't remember) is totally disintegrated and blocking your (dealy thing I also can't remember)?"

"I did not know that."

"I cleaned it out. You also have one of those damn California water-saver devices in here. I can rip that sucker out if you want. You'll have water pressure that could take the paint off the walls."

"Um, no, thank you."

"You sure? WHAM! Just like that. No one would know."

"I would know. Me and the baby seals who have no water."

"The baby seals can come use your shower."

"No, dad."

"It wouldn't be hard..."

"Dad."

"You're no fun."


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