Do they make this with a turtle neck?

Well it's that time again. 

Bathing suit season. 

The time when all skinny people flock to Target to mix and match their tops and bottoms for their bikinis. 

Or as I like to call it: 

The time where I cry in a dressing room.

It's beneficial that I'm squeezing myself into that sausage casing that is a swim suit, because it's water proof and the tears just roll right off. 

I hate bathing suit shopping. 

I look online for years. 

I mean last summer I looked for a bathing suit from May until August. 

By the time I got it the pools were closed. 

It's no secret I'm a plus sized lady. 

I've been doing things about it...not so much lately as I have been eating my feelings thanks to the last 2 weeks of school, but still making some strides. 

I dress for my size, except for the occasional leotard and high heel ensemble I rock to black tie formal events. 

But how can you dress for your size in a wet suit. 

You know why there aren't a lot of chunky dolphin trainers. 

The uniform. 

Bathing suits are rude. 

They are awesome for those who can wear a bikini. 

You can mix and match. 

You can buy them for  87 cents at piece or something.

They're like 2 inches of fabric. 

You get evenly tanned. 

It's awesome for you. 

For me?

Not so much. 

Here are my options:

Tankinis. 

In theory these are phenomenal. 

Makes you feel like a skinny girl because they're two separate pieces. Sometimes you can also mix and match...

but here's the catch...and believe me there is a catch. 

Those tankini tops are basically considered half shirts. 

You do one cannon ball or front flip and that top is rolling like a Fruit by the Foot on up and exposing your belly button to the world. 

Then you have the swim dress.

It's usually worn by a lady who is more advanced in age. 

Which I applaud. 

Rock that dress. 

Swim yo laps sister. 

But for me...a swim dress is not the fashion. 

Then you have the tasteful one piece. 

This is my preferred choice. 

You stomach does not show ever. 

And if it does, a series of unfortunate events have happened and that will probably make for a fantastic blog post. 

However, you always have that fear of it being too clingy. 

My biggest pet peeve is when diving into the water, your suit clinging and showing the outline of your belly button. 

I don't want anyone to see that. 

I don't want to see that. 

Everyone knows where it is. 

They don't need a map. 

And no matter how you pull a tasteful one piece it's going to rocket back to it's natural form....my lumpy body. 

I know you're thinking, "Jones just loose some weight and you can rock any bathing suit you want." 

Perhaps true but I will forever be afraid of the bathing suits.

Much like I will always be afraid of the shag hair cut. 

If it were up to me I'd wear a towel in the pool. 

My friend Kendra and I were talking today and

 we'd actually be just fine wearing a

 t-shirt and shorts. 

Maybe into the water, maybe not.

We haven't decided yet. 

I have resisted even looking for bathing suits online. 

I start to sweat just thinking about trying them on. 

I also don't have time to find a dressing room attendant I feel comfortable enough to weep openly with. 

That relationship takes time to build. 

What are you biggest bathing suit blunders?

I already can tell you I feel your pain. 

Don't Die on 3!

Sunday April 10th

I ran my first 5k! 

I had 3 goals: 

1. Finish in under an hour. 

2. Don't die. 

3. Eat the free cupcake in 3 bites.

All were accomplished! 

I finished the race in 50 minutes and 51 seconds.
I didn't die.
I think I ate the cupcake in 2 bites.

Let me give you a little run down of race weekend:

My bff/ racing partner/ emergency contact should I die during said race and I carbo-loaded the night before.
We had a lovely meal at Bertucci's courtesy of my former roomie Tim Jones.
We then ended our night by watching movies on TNT.
I assume that's what all runners do, yes?

Race day came and I was feeling fairly barfy about the whole event.
As we drove (partly on the wrong side of the road but whatever) to the race I was thinking of ways to get out of it.

Here's what I came up with:

Immaculate conception and sudden birth
Throwing myself in front of a moving vehicle
Actually barfing
Setting the t-shirt table on fire
Throwing my Nikes into a body of water
Throwing myself into a body of water

Instead I got my bib number and ate a free banana.

We decided to stretch:

Which isn't really stretching at all:

It's really just make awkward hoola hoop type movements while saying:

"Bringing it arouuuuuund town"

& generally causing a scene. 

After that Sara and I made our way to the start line. 

While we waited for them to tell us to go I raised a very important point to Sara. 

We had our race bibs and had taken pictures...

We didn't actually have to run the race. 

We could could just leave. 

After we decided that we probably should just go ahead and do it we made up a secret handshake and made the ultimate goal. 

Don't die. 

And we didn't! 

Sara finished the race in 36 minutes: 

After running and run-dancing

I finished up the race listening to Kanye West. 

I gotta say ( and this is 100% cheesy but) seeing some of my favorite people at the finish line and knowing that I actually ran a 5k was one of the best feelings of my life. 

It was something Sara and I worked really hard for and we did it! 

To say that we elbowed people in their faces to get our cupcakes is an understatement. 

I mean we yelled "WHERE ARE THE CUPCAKES?" 

like a mother would yell "WHERE IS MY BABY?" should they ever get lost. 

We were on a mission.

That's what we did this whole thing for. 

Not for the cause...because we don't know what that was. 

For the cupcake. 

They were delicious. 

We actually got 2:

Also...I got photo bombed. 

And Bryan ate a whole cupcake in one bite. 

Oh and this happened:

The End. 

HER EFFING KIDS ARE HERE! By Ashley A. Jones

As I have shared before I have some redneck hillbilly traits.

For instance one summer I ate bologna and chip sandwiches with a side of Oodles of Noodles.
I had a mullet.
I've seen the Blue Collar Comedy Tour live in concert.
The Country Music Awards is my favorite awards show.
And lastly,
I was a huge wrestling fan.

Huge.
Like so huge that I had a wrestling t-shirt for every day of the week.
This went well with my mullet.
People told my dad he had a handsome son.
Had a not been so offended I would have taken that as a compliment.

I went to SEVERAL live events.
One time I got to go because I won a pair of tickets from a radio station at a bowling alley.

I would theorize with Tim Jones about plot lines and if the Undertaker was really an undertaker...and if so would he come kidnap me in my sleep.
(That was a legitimate conversation.)

I had trading cards.
I planned a lovely wedding to Jeff Hardy and then later Kevin Nash.
After that it was the Rock.

I was obsessed and would talk about it to anyone and everyone.
Barb tried to talk me out of spending my money on WWF entrance music CDs but I didn't listen.

Then I turned my attention to other things.
And by things I mean I found the light.
The light being
these 5 faces:

I mean don't get me wrong. I didn't totally turn my back.
I tuned in from time to time.
But I had moved on.
My relationship with the WWE hit its 7 year itch.

Recently the Rock, who is essentially the most attractive human alive, returned to the ring and I was sucked back in.
He was going to be the guest of host of Wrestlemania 27.
I found out that Buffalo Wild Wings would be showing it April 3rd for free.
Wings and Wrestling that's what Harrisonburg does.
I was in.
I told my friends.
I cleared my schedule.
I literally told people I was busy from 7-11 because I was watching professional wrestling.
I wrote it in pen in my planner.
I put it on my Outlook calendar.
I tweeted about it.
I
was
pumped.

Much to my surprise when I got to Bdubs, there were no seats.
No one was coming in and no one was coming out.
To say I went in to panic mode would be a fairly accurate statement.
I pulled out my Droid and googled
"Places in Harrisonburg showing Wrestlemania 27"

Who would have known, but I actually got results.
One other bar in town was showing it:

Time Out Sports Bar and Lounge.
Sounds pretty cool right?

Let me set the scene.

Time Out is located inside Valley Lanes, Harrisonburg's finest bowling establishment.
It is a small bar, where smoking inside is still allowed.
A small woman who I'd say is about 900 years old greets you at the door where you are to hand over $6.

Somehow the divine wrestling gods were looking down on my friends and I
because there were exactly four of us and four available seats.
We sat at table seven with these fine folks:

The blonde to the right planned her wedding the entire time. 

Her colors (in case you were wondering) are sage green and pink.

She also asked the woman in the GAP sweatshirt to be a bridesmaid in her wedding because there "wasn't anyway her sister was going to be." 

The way her night was going she was going to ask me or my friend Sara to officiate. 

She also attempted to learn Spanish. 

A woman (not pictured) kept burping as if she were a trucker and repeatedly spoke of the hot flashes she got when John Cena was on screen. 

The guy in the middle, Nicco, was considering where to get his next tattoo.
His options: other side of his neck orrr other hand.
He was really awesome actually and laughed at my jokes.
As you know I'll do anything for a laugh so I immediately liked him.

During one of the matches the cable went out:

And we thought for certain a fight was going to break out similar to that of the fight scene in Anchorman.

Luckily crisis was averted and we remained safe. 

My friend Dan and I had a fantastic time. 

Sara was a trooper and Bryan had a great time. 

Until it went down. 

John Cena lost and apparently a patron was real happy about it. 

He cursed out the entire bar like we were all in fact John Cena himself, or in someway related to him.

A woman who weighed approximately half of an 18 wheeler, stormed over and got in said man's face and said:

"SCUSE ME CAN YOU HAVE SOME CLASS MY F*#KING KIDS ARE HERE. WHY YOU GOTTA RUN YOUR MOUTH LIKE THAT?! HOW DARE YOU!" 

Then she bucked at him and took her children and went home. 

Heaven forbid her children hear John Cena get lambasted--seeing their mother in a bar fight is far more acceptable. 

It was awesome. 

Hopefully it's not too early to make reservations at that establishment for 

Wrestlemania 28. 

My fingers are crossed. 

What a silly goose...

Oh hey thugs.
I'm back.
Sorry for the long hiatus again.
However, I have quite the update (coming soonnnn after this)

First let me get this out of the way.

This past Friday was April Fools Day.
I love pranks.
I think they are hilarious.
My first two years at Longwood were full of them.
However, I'm not the most skilled at pulling them off.

So naturally as April 1st arrived I was unsure if I was going to attempt anything.
Then I remembered I was friends with this guy:

My bff SteVen 

& knew that something must be done.

After some discussion with one of his RAs and some of my associates we decided to fill up 270 cups of water and place them outside his door so he couldn't get in.

Safety hazard? Yes.
Best prank ever? No.
Was it worth it? YUP.

Check out our work:

3 helpers filling up the cups

Eric helping with the assembly

Progress....

And now we wait....

"Jones this is a lot of cups..."

After we stacked up all the cups I told Steve to make love to the camera.

He tried...

I hid in the TV Lounge and waited for him to get back. 

When he saw the cups I started giggling.

He found me. 

I helped him clean it all up. 

I claim the day as a success. 

Next year he will probably retaliate. 

Or tomorrow. 

I must always be on my toes.