Bryanna and the City

Friday, December 31, 2004

Is that really you Santa Claus?

Click here. Santa really does exist!

Shower Puff Etiquette

One of the items in my stocking from Santa this year was a bottle of mango body wash and a shower puff. I was very excited about this because I love the smell of mangos and I hadn't used a shower puff since the late '90's. Yesterday, I was giving my whole body a really good lathering when just before I was heading for my b*tt cr**ck I realized that the puff I was using was not my bright orange one, but the big purple one that belonged to one of my roommates. I literally said "aack" and stopped scrubbing my body in mid-lather. I quickly rinsed the soap from my body and gave the puff a good rinse as well. Okay, so here's the problem, I wasn't really grossed out because I had used someone else's puff but rather, I felt a huge pang of shame and guilt that I had scrubbed my body with it. Now I'm wondering, should I tell my roommate that I used her puff, or would it be better that she never knew of the offence? What would you prefer? Oh, and if she is reading this, I'm very, very sorry. It will never happen again and I did actually stop before I got to my cr*ck...hopefully we can get through this together.

Security, Security!!

Stop the presses! Call in the dogs! Mr. P has found this website! *aack!* Actually, I gave it to him because for some reason my blog is VERY easy to search for now. I googled "bryanna and vancouver" and it was the first hit. Oh, and "bryanna and mr.p" shows the same results. So, I decided that in order to gain some control over the situation, I would just reveal it to him myself, which I believe is the better alternative to him finding it a month from now without me being aware and perhaps saying something incriminating or embarrasing (like I have not already). Posts about Mr.P will dramatically decrease from now on...don't be too sad...pervs.

Thursday, December 30, 2004

Some Resolutions...

#1. Write something interesting in my blog at least 5 times per week.
#2. Reach 1,000 visitors by my 22nd Birthday (March 12: presents most welcome).
#3. Move more.
#4. Eat less (better).
#5. Drink more H2O.
#6. Drink less, rather spend less on, G&T's.
#7. "Put away" more of my paycheck.
#8. Never let my milk go sour (ever again).
#9. Feed the ducks.
#10. Take more pictures.

Wednesday, December 29, 2004

My Christmas [EX]perience

[UPDATE: I HAVE BEEN GIVEN THE "POPE'S" (READ: MOTHER'S) BLESSING TO BE AS CRASS, CRUDE AND BLATANTLY PERVERTED AS I WISH...WHICH IS GOOD FOR YOU BECAUSE I WAS ACTUALLY GOING TO WRITE ABOUT MY WEEK OF ACID REFLUX]

Having to wake up at 6:15 in the morning to go to work at 8:30, only four days after Christmas, is just plain cruel. That's really all I'm going say about that...

So, as you may have noticed (I'm assuming that someone who reads this actually cares) I took a vacation from not only my favourite city, Vancouver, but from my Blog as well. As much as I resent not having three weeks off at Christmas, like my friends in school, only having a long weekend to stuff myself silly, significantly cut down on the damage. By "damage" I mean, pounds gained. On average, I gain about 5-10lbs each Christmas. Last year was even more significant because I lost about 8lbs due to stress and the Flu before I came home and subsequently ate like a starved dog that had been tied up in the backyard for 3 days without any food for the three weeks that I was home. Just thinking about it makes me think "Uugggh..".

Anyhoo, there was no excessive gorging this Christmas. Not because the food was bad or because I wasn't hungry..no, no, my dears...because I had my first and hopefully last case of *cringe* ACID REFLUX. Terrible, gut wrenching, esophagus burning, golf ball in the back of your throat, excessive belching acid reflux. G.R.O.S.S. Oh, yeah! And the worst part was that it started (by "it" I mean extreme, doubled over cramping) while Mr.P and I were peacefully watching a movie. He was great. Concerned, but did not ask too many questions. Helpful, without being too pushy. AND, most importantly, was not grossed out (or just very good at disguising it). I, myself, was mortified! MOR. TI. FIED!! Okay, so we've been dating for a month, getting along quite well, but having to tell this guy (because he seemed so concerned) not to worry because it was probably just a bad case of gas was not the kind of intimacy I think either of us was ready for. However, it ended up working out great. We laughed (I actually couldn't because it hurt too much) and I joked that his last impression of me before I left for Kamloops would be of me holding my stomach and trying not to "let one rip" in front of him...and on that note...

Christmas with the family went "well". The quotations simply suggest that it was not a Brady Bunch Christmas... Don't get me wrong, my family is wonderful, but like every "normal" family in this world..we're somewhat neurotic when put in one small, confined space..which makes us all the more interesting and loveable...err right? The rents drove my sisters and I back down to Van yesterday. NMG and AYG will be flying out tonight...I won't be seeing them again until the summer when I fly out to London. The three Grace girls in Turkey and Greece?....Things may get a little....err...explicit...I mean, we definitely will have to check out the Catholic cathedrals in Greece :)

So, I mentioned in a previous post that Mr.P and his Ex are good friends. Sorry, I mean best friends. Which, before this weekend sort of bothered me. I was trying to be all..."no, it doesn't bother me that you still say 'I love you' to eachother" and disguised my insecurity when I said, "that's great that you still spend your birthday and Christmas with her and her family" (to clarify, his birthday is on Christmas day and I was not in town) , when I really was thinking "what the hell?! MOVE ON!!". Anyways, my stance changed this weekend.

So, here's some "Bryanna facts":

- My only "real" relationship ended over two years ago.
- We dated for over two years.
- It ended amicably.
- We remained friends.

However, I moved to Van for school and he stayed in Kamloops. We lost touch along the way, but every now and then we would catch up. On Monday, while back in Kamloops, we IM'd eachother and ended up hanging out that night. He's one of the kindest people I know and a wonderful friend. If anyone told me that I couldn't be friends with him I would freak out. When you've spent so much time with someone and shared so much, it's almost unnatural to cut them out of your life. And, if there are no "I still need you" feelings left, then why not remain friends? Yes, it's somewhat of a sticky situation when you start dating again. Yes, you may feel a knee-jerk reaction feeling of "you were suppose to love ME for the rest of your life!" when they tell you they've met someone new. But, that goes away just like my acid reflux went away. Having a guy friend that you've already dated is the best kind, I think, because you've already "been there and done that". There's no, "I wonder if we'd make a good couple?" question hovering in the air. The answer is obvious. No, you would not. Or else you would still be together.

So, I'm happy that Mr.P and his Ex are mature enough to remain friends. Err...but I'm still not sure if I'm mature enough to meet her yet.

Thursday, December 23, 2004

Ho, Ho, Ho...Merry Christmas!

As I am heading to Kamloops tonight for the holidays and will be immobile with gluttony for the next 4 days, I thought I would spend some of my (work) time to wish everyone a Merry Christmas! Which, on further thought, is actually pointless because I will be spending Christmas with most my readers. So, here's a little update to keep you busy until I get back next Wednesday.

#1. My "super-chickdomness" has subsided (leaving me with extremely painful abdominal cramping).
#2. What about Mr.P? You're probably wondering...Mr. P is wonderful. He secretly left a present for me last night at my place...he's so cute (yeah I know...blech, blech...you're probably wishing for super-chick to come back right now).
#3. Mr. P's presents to me were wrapped in wedding wrapping paper. When I questioned him about it he claimed ignorance. My response? "W. W. F. Sat", of course!
#4. I've already received and opened not 1, not 2, but 10 presents!!
#5. One word...TURKEY! YUM, YUM TURKEY!!!


Wednesday, December 22, 2004

Sex Sells...right?

"You're trying to kill me slowly, aren't you?...AREN'T YOU!!" This has been my mother's opening line on the phone for the past two weeks. And, as I predicted, last night I heard that exact line when I answered the phone at approximately 7:00 pm. Now, you're probably wondering why I allowed my mother to read my website in the first place. It's simple...I like readers. And because I don't pay to have it hosted, my site is rarely (besides yesterday) visited by "randoms". I have come to look forward to comments more than I look forward to e-mails, which is strange because I absolutely abhor having people proof read my academic essays. But, my blog is different. My blog is my "creative" outlet now that I don't have courses to take at school *sigh*.

My blog is NOT a diary, make no mistake. My lifestyle has changed a lot during my year off from school and with the summer I had this past year in which I (almost) almost died (for real), I honestly believe that I deserve to have fun (PG 13 rated fun, of course). I'm not the psycho stress case that I was last December, I'm not the no-time-for-fun girl and I'm learning to enjoy it. I no longer wake up on Saturday morning with a guilty, empty feeling because I don't have papers to write or exams for which to study. I'm content with my life and I figure that this is the best time to document it and, of course, LIVE IT UP!.

So, when my mom informed me that my innuendos (which are, of course, all jokes) about certain topics upset her, I was shocked (well, not really, I've known my mom for too long). I know that my somewhat "crass" references to sex...that's right people, I said it S.E.X...may be innapropriate for my reading audience, but I've always been told that "Sex Sells". That's what the people want, Bryanna! So, that's what I've been giving you.

I told my mom that if it upset her so much, that she should not continue to read it. But, I knew this was a moot point as my mom has never resisted the temptation of reading our diaries (which I'm sure is a fault of every mother). Her reply to this was something along the lines of, "I liked you better when you were playing in the backyard"...to which I replied, "I left the sand box a long time ago, mom, even though I may still be carrying some of that sand in my shoes". In the end, I promised to "chaste-it-up" for my mom, if only to let her sleep better at night, stop calling me at 9:30 a.m. on the weekends and spare me from hearing the "you're trying to kill me" line again.

So, from now on I will only talk about my digestive system, the food I eat and my night time routine...enjoy!


I'm Famous!

One of my co-workers searched for my blog and found THIS!! Scroll down until you see the heading The Curse of the Super-Chick...I'm waiting for my check in the mail!

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

The Curse of the "Super-Chick"

Ladies, we all know her. That super-chick (credits to DD for the term) inside all of us. She rears her ugly, needy, emotional, over-analytical head every once in a while and no matter how hard we try to push her out of the way, take a step back and look at things (read: relationships) objectively, she always seems to make an appearance when the stakes, meaning your heart getting broken, get a little bit higher. Suddenly, everything your unsuspecting partner says or writes in an e-mail gets broken down piece by piece like you're a CSI. You start to question why he waited an extra day to call you. "He usually calls me every day" you may say to yourself..."perhaps this is his way of 'pulling away'??" And that brings me to another topic altogether, this concept of men "pulling away" (not to be mistaken with *ahem* "pulling out" ha ha ha ha ha ha ha SORRY MOM!!). Why do men seem to always "pull away" when the relationship gets a little more serious, when everything is almost perfect, when you feel like you could actually find yourself falling in love with them...? It's when you feel or "sense" this "pulling away" that you transform into that somewhat crazy version of yourself that cries when he says he's spending the night with "the boys", that cries when he doesn't return an e-mail, that cries when you see puppies...errr...anyways, I'm sick of it. But, for now, I'm just going to smile because faking a smile produces the same happy effect that a real smile does... "oh the shark has great big teeth dear and he shows them. . .pearly white!"

Monday, December 20, 2004

Off the Record

Utterances of the english language in the past week:

"We just flew in from London."
- The response A.Y.G gave to the retail girl when she asked if they had been shopping all day.

"Did it take you long to learn the language?"
- Question asked by retail girl when told A.Y.G and N.M.G had been living in LONDON for a year.

"I hate Christmas. Santa can burn in H*ll."
- Respose a certain co-worker gave to me when asked what his plans were for Christmas.

"You're mad sexy, baby"
- What the "obviously gay to everybody else but himself" guy said to me at the party on Friday.

"How you DOin'??"
- What a 30/40 something man said to me on my way to DD's Saturday night in my sweats and my jacket hood on (I still got IT baby!).

"I better be getting my period soon..."
- Me to me after getting very "emotional" at the puppy store.

"The building maintenance guy just checked you out"
- Co-worker to me on our way to Starbucks

"Eeeww!"
- Me to co-worker in response to previous quote





Friday, December 17, 2004

Some light reading for the weekend

From the woman who directed you to Breakup Babe, I now urge you to check out www.thesmitten.com. However, check out www.smitten.com first. Trust me, you'll like both of them (and you'll get a few free laughs out of them as well).

Correction

Do you remember the post in which I described some of Mr.P's vital stats...um..well..last Sunday I was looking at him ( pretty closely) when I noticed something was weird..I literally took my index finger and my thumb, forced his eye open really large, and said in an embarrased, surprised tone, "you're eyes aren't brown?". Yeah..they aren't brown. They are a combination of grey, green, and blue....he thought I was crazy, but I told him that before our first date. I'm sure he's thinking right now, "what did I get myself into?".....

I (heart) McDonalds & I (hate) too many (food) Choices

At about 10:00 a.m. while pleasantly enjoying myself in my little glass fish bowl (Teena: fish bowl = my office with three other girls; hamster cage=the company office) my Stomach e-mailed my Brain...this was in the subject line: Yo, fool, I'm hungry. You forgot to eat breakfast! Even though my brain got the message, like me, it decided not to reply. An hour later, Stomach left a very nasty message in Brain's voice-mail message box (the contents of which are not suitable for this g-rated blog). This time Brain sent Stomach a text message that read: IT'S 11:00. WAIT 1 MORE HOUR AND I PROMISE I WILL MAKE IT UP TO YOU.

Needless to say, by the time 12:00 came around I was hungry and a little bit grumpy. So my wallet and I headed down to the food court. My choices were: Pizza (No, that was my dinner on Wednesday and my lunch & dinner yesterday), Greek (No, I'm still having BAD flashbacks from the unpleasant 3 days of last week), Sushi (nah), Soup & Salad (nuh uh), and Chinese (hmm..sure, sounds..er smells good).

I went to the one with the longest line because people lining up for Chinese is (I think) a good sign. I looked at the big pictures of the meal options, I looked at the list of menu items, I waited about 8 minutes. When it was (almost) my turn to order I panicked. Yes, I literally panicked. I had no idea what I wanted and now that I was closer to the menu and the big pictures it all looked so confusing..did I want pork or chicken? Rice or noodles? AHH!! I had no idea...and everyone looked like they did. I put my hand up to hide my face (no, I didn't really do that...it's called exaggeration people) as I quickly exited the line. Here was my thought process at the time. I'm hungry> Chinese sounds good> Err...what do I want?(internal crying; external blushing)> TOO. MANY. CHOICES> get out of the line before it's TOO LATE!> McDonald's sounds good.

So, that's where I went. Good ol'Micky D's. The one place that has not (really) changed since I first bit into one of their delicious fries over 17 years ago. Or so I thought. Did you know that McDonald's has a toasted sandwhich menu now? Err.....WTF? I can handle salads, I can handle jumping on the Atkins band wagon...but sandwiches? Why? No, really. Why? You sell burgers McDonald's....B.U.R.G.E.R.S!! Little sugar and fat filled addictive morsels that I can't seem to get enough of, NOT sugar and fat (trust me: they're not a light option) filled sandwiches! Hmmph!!

I'm a sociologoy major and trust me, I've been exposed to my (un)fair share of McDonaldization literature and the corruption it causes in our society. I know that predictability is NOT a good thing. That in order to keep evolving as species we need choices; something to shake up the (digestive) system. But as I write this, my lower lip is protruding, my eyebrows are furrowed, and if I were not typing, my hands would be defiantly on my hips. It's so NOT fair!! I know that as an intelligent, educated woman, I should welcome such changes, but on this one I'm gonna stomp my foot and say "nuh uh!!"..."NO, WAY!!"

I ordered the #7 meal (crispy chicken BURGER)...it was OK. It tasted like it always does. Not really crispy, full of fat (yum), and full of sugar (double yum, yum). Now, excuse me while I undue my top button and take a quick nap...I'm a little tired.

Wednesday, December 15, 2004

Don't tap on the glass!!

Sometimes I feel like I'm in a hamster cage....actually, in a fish bowl within a hamster cage...the hamsters in the cage are always bustling about, while the fish occasionally swim around and pretend to look alive, but mostly they're suspended in the water, fins subtly moving, looking dazed and uninterested...The hamsters being very intrigued by the fish in the bowl..always look inside...there's a sign that says "don't tap the glass!", but sometimes the hamsters can't help it...the fish are just too flashy to ignore. Oh well, in 4 months I'll be flushed...and will probably miss the room-temperature water...but most likely NOT.

What would Freud say about that??

**Yes, I know it's been a while since my last (good) post. And, yes, you have come to rely on my daily banterings and hilarious (if only to me and my close relatives) anecdotes....BUT, I'm not a machine people, being THIS funny is hard (not to mention that I got a bit paranoid about posting these on the *cough*cough* Company's time) ...okay, so without any further ado...**

What would Freud say about that?

That's my new line. It works for almost anything...
(some of these are real examples, some are fictitious.....okay!)



- While waiting for Mr. P to give me a ride home the other day, he 'mistakenly' called my house when trying to reach his EX (now, "good-friend", two years post break-up) ... to which I replied --- what would Freud say about that? (do you detect bitterness, insecurity... *ahem* jealousy in my tone??? What?! Me?! Never!! No, REALLY, I'm taking this 'friends with the Ex' thing pretty well I think...and, uh, no...that is not the sound of my teeth grinding...whatever **hmmpf!!**... FYI: there will be (don't you worry) a (juicy) post about this "topic" soon, but I'm waiting to figure out what I truly feel about it before I start the blogging process)

- When the sisters commented on the size of my (reletively speaking) HUGE cajungas... I simply replied...what would Freud say about that?

- When a close friend divulged to me that a "good spanking" evokes the same pleasure that she and I share for an eight layer hazelnut chocolate cake at True Confections...I simply replied (and attempted to raise my right eyebrow a la Carrie Bradshaw )...say it with me people: WHAT. WOULD. FREUD. SAY. ABOUT. THAT. MISSY?

- Every time I give my number out to a man whom I am a/. not attracted to b/. somewhat repulsed by AND c/. unable to carry a mature conversation with...I usually think to myself, "self, what would good ol' S.F. say about that, huh? No, really?? What's wrong with you woman?!! How many men do you have to employ the avoid-with-the-help-of-caller-ID tactic on until you get it through your (fabulous) thick scull...that your idea of politeness is your messed-up way of self-validation...?? Err...I digress...*'scuse me, for that outburst*

- Lastly, when my Mom inevitably calls me up (and actually gets in contact with me) with a somewhat "suggestive" quote from my blog still fresh in her mind, perhaps from this blog entry, disgruntled and mortified by my "blunt disclosures" I will reply....well, by now (hopefully) you-know-what.

- SIDE NOTE: I just had an ingeniuos idea...bracelets with WWFSAT on them...of course, pronounced W. W. F. Sat.


Monday, December 13, 2004

2.5 Months After the Fact...

2.5 months ago I dated a firefighter. We met at a pub in Yaletown, went on two dates, I told him my five year plan, he didn't call me after our 2nd date, I didn't call him and, frankly, I really didn't care. It was the easiest 1 week relationship of my life. It ended as quickly as it started and the good-bye was not "sweet sorrow". In fact, there was no good-bye...it just ended, period. Or so I thought...

Friday night, while preparing for my dinner with Mr. P, the phone rang...which it tends to do from time to time. I was in the shower and could hear just enough to know that the phone call was for me. After my roommate hung up, she informed me through the bathroom door that a man had called for me. A man, whom when she asked if he was Mr. P, said simply no, and that he would call me back later. However, I have caller ID and when she said that it was someone with the last name of *Firehall, I almost slipped in the shower...WTF?? I was completely blind-sided by this 2.5 months after the fact, random, 5:00 on a Friday evening phone call, by a man who obviously does not like the fact that my five year plan does not facilitate any sort of serious relationship let alone marriage and babies.

I have to admit, that I was tempted to call him back. Not to rekindle the pathetic 1 week fling we had back in September, but just to find out why he called. I could understand it more, if he had called at 2:00 in the morning on a Saturday night, in a drunken and confused state, but this was not that type of situation. I was curious, but I didn't call him back and he didn't call me back either...I guess I'll just have to wait till February for him to call and explain why.

[*NAME CHANGED TO PROTECT IDENTITY]

Thursday, December 09, 2004

Do I Have the F.L.U?

Someone mentioned to me on my way to *ahem* the Ladies Room (it appears I spoke too soon), that perhaps I could have the Flu...this possibility had not crossed my mind. Ever since my summer of "the Great Illness" my perception of what being "sick" means is somewhat distorted. Here are my symptoms. . .(warning: some of them, actually all of them, aren't pleasant).

1. Three days of "the unpleasantness"...starts with a D and ends with an A.
2. Three days of mild, but appetite suppressing, nausea.
3. A slight fever.
4. 30 minutes of coughing up a substance of a colour and consistency that I will not mention on my blog when I wake up in the morning.

Should I be alarmed? Should I stay home from work tomorrow? *gasp* Should I cancel dinner with Mr. P? What do you think?

The Good and the Bad

Here's an update on my life (since yesterday):

The GOOD News: I have not made an urgent trip to "the Ladies" as of yet.
The BAD News: Operation "Lose-Weight-Without-Trying" has officially ended. The nausea is gone and my appetite is back...Timmi's and I are on "eating terms" again.

The GOOD News: My Preparations for dinner with Mr. P are coming together. Wine (check), Tomato Sauce with Sausage prepared and in the fridge (check), Ice-cream (check), Lettuce and tomatoes and cucumber ready to be made into a tasty salad (check), birthday present (check), hand-cuffs (che--- oops...did I actually say that?).
The BAD News: The spaghetti sauce was a bit of a headache to prepare. One of the sausages ended up sticking to the bottom of the pan and started to burn. Luckily, my roommate allerted me to this and I was able to save most of the sauce as well as the remaining sausages. Hooray!

The GOOD News: My work day seems to be going by shockingly fast now.
The BAD News: I still have about 82 more work days to go.

The GOOD News: My sisters are coming to Canada to visit in 4 days.
The BAD News: I can't STAND them...(ha ha just kidding, I couldn't think of anything bad)

The GOOD News: I got 2 free tickets to see an early viewing of In Good Company.
The BAD News: I might be going alone if the fabulous DD does not get out of her exam in time.

The GOOD News: Christmas is only 16 days away!
The BAD News: I still have many, many presents to buy.

The GOOD News: I (heart) My Readers!
The BAD News: This blog entry is over.

[I WOULD LIKE TO SAY 'SORRY' TO MY MOTHER IN ADVANCE ABOUT THE HAND-CUFF COMMENT...HOWEVER, MOM, IF I DON'T CARE WHAT OTHER PEOPLE THINK OF ME, NEITHER SHOULD YOU...ACTUALLY, OF COURSE I CARE WHAT OTHER PEOPLE THINK OF ME, BUT IT'S NOT LIKE IT'S ON MY 'TOP 10' THINGS TO WORRY ABOUT' LIST OR ANYTHING]

Wednesday, December 08, 2004

I like me some...

Buffalo Bratwurst Sausage, that is. When I eat it, it makes me feel like I'm the type of person who would enjoy a 3 week hike in the woods (which I am SO not), buy organic vegetables (again, me? I think not!! (stole that line from "Anonymous")), and have a Golden Retriever (I like my dogs small, thank-you-very-much).

Seriously, though, this *stuff is good. It's so lean and tasty. MMM...I really do like me some Buffalo Bratwurst Sausage.

[ *I was going to say "sh*t", but Mr. P commented, recently, that the lack of profanity in my vocabulary conveyed to him that I'm one classy, educated dame! To which I replied, "damn straight, fool!". . . So, "stuff" it is]

Have we met? The name's Shaw. . . Ms. Veronica Shaw

Good-morning! Veronica Shaw here. Taking over for Bry. That girl never learns. After the afternoon she had yesterday in the company toilet, I told her a coffee and low fat blueberry muffin was probably not a smart idea...she responded with "WHATever V! You don't own me!". So, now she's in the same predicament as yesterday...having to endure the "Again?!!" comments from the guy who sits by the woman's washroom. Don't worry, she's already apologized. I SO own her...

Last night was another fabulous night for Veronica Shaw. Having been unable to attend the past 2 Sunday brunches with the fabulous DD, Lexi, and Ms. Mackenzie, V felt completely "in the dark" and was itching to share the news about the "new man in her life" and dish the intimate details. So, last night V met up with the fabulous DD at a downtown lounge (which V believed was suffering from some decor identity confusion--surf boards next to a roaring fire...as Karen would say and point with her finger..."what's going on here honey?" ). 2 G&T's later, V was back in "the know" and feeling somewhat warm and fuzzy inside. At first she thought she was overcome with the Christmas spirit, but then Ms. Shaw remembered that she had not eaten much for dinner that night and was probably feeling the effects of the two aforementioned G&T's.

Both DD and Ms. V had some charity committee meetings to attend early the next morning so after two hours of drinks, laughing at Halloween pictures, and discussing the events of the past two weeks, DD and V parted...but not for long as they will be reunited in 4 days, along with Lexi and Ms. Mackenize for a fabulous Christmas party. DD has promised to wear her new twinkly silver shoes...while Ms. V still needs to get a new stunning outfit for the occasion.

Alright my darlings...I must go.

Just in case we have not met...

My Name: Ms. Vernica M. Shaw (but you can call me V)
My Age: Don't you wish you knew....okay, okay...30(ish)
My Location: Vancouver, BC, Canada
My Astrological Sign: Scorpio (watch out...unlike Bry the Pisces I don't take sh*t from anybody)
My Occupation: Idependently Wealthy (don't ask me for money...that's tacky)
My Marital Status: Single, with an abundance of "boy toys" on the go, in reserves, and waiting in line.
My Relationship with Bry: Found her...like a dull Jem waiting to be buffed and shined to show the world its true brilliance...while waiting for "Driver" to pick me up. She was waiting for the bus, with big frizzy hair, tapered jeans, and a Club Monaco sweatshirt. I took her on as my own personal project...now she's the fabulous Bry you all know and love.

Signed with love,

V




Tuesday, December 07, 2004

An Unpleasant Equation

[FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DO NOT LIKE "BATHROOM HOMOUR" STOP READING NOW. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. . .PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK]

1 uneasy stomach
+ 1 craving for a gyro from the cafeteria downstairs
- common sense
______________
1 precarious afternoon spent in the office bathroom

*ouch*

Ramblings About. . .Everything

The process from real life to blog entry usually goes something like this:

1. Bryanna does something stupid, funny or interesting...OR Bryanna thinks of something stupid, funny or interesting.
2. Bryanna thinks to herself: "Self, this is too funny, stupid or interesting to keep just to myself, must not only tell my roommates, co-workers, and friends, but must also publish on my blog for all to see and enjoy."
3. Bryanna thinks of funny ways to tell stupid, funny or interesting story...exaggerating certain elements to make it perhaps appear MORE stupid, funny or interesting.
4. Bryanna sits down and writes...pressing "Save As Draft" frequently so as not to lose any stupid, funny or interesting material like she did when she tried to post her The Casual Dilemma entry...
5. Bryanna presses "Publish Post" then continues to read, re-read, re-re-read post...marvelling at her own literary genius in sweet anticipation of the gracious and sometimes not-so-gracious comments to come.

Alas, as you may have noticed by my non-entry of yesterday, I have not been inspired by anything stupid, funny or interesting lately. I have been wandering the streets of Vancouver looking and looking, frantic for something to write about. Something. Anything!! The pressure of it is just too much for me to bare. TOO. MUCH! I woke up last night in a cold sweat mumbling the words repeatedly. . ."my readers, my readers. . .I have to write for my readers!! (all 3 of them)". Right. Okay, enough of that jargon. I don't have enough material for a complete blog entry about one subject. However, there are a few little things that have happened recently that I would like to share with you...yeah YOU! So sit back. Relax. Enjoy. . .

1. You'll be happy to hear that a. I did get my own seat on the Greyhound back to Kamloops (woo hoo!!) b. I got the very back seat i.e. three seats to myself (woo hoo x 2!!) c. I slept the whole way there. Why? Because I was tired and because it was too dark to read d. I woke up in a panic about 20 minutes out of Kamloops. Why? Because I was wearing ear plugs and had a very bad dream that I had completely missed the stop in Kamloops and was *gasp* on my way to Barriere. (Boo!! Bad dream...very bad dream). The End.

2. I take the Greyhound a lot. Quite a bit. About 10 times/year. They rarely provide a movie for the ride. I gave up on the possibility of having a great movie to watch to pass the time on the Greyhound a long time ago. I don't bring earphones anymore. Guess what. . .on my way back to Van. they showed a movie. Guess what again. . . it was a movie I really wanted to see. Guess who sat there in the aisle seat (gross. . the aisle sucks) watching "The Terminal" with no sound. Me!! Grr....crazy, unpredictable Greyhound. Now I pretty much know how the movie ends, but I have no idea what actually happens...hmmpf!

3. I'm a chronic people watcher. I take the same bus home from work every day. Every day I see the same people and I watch them. I sort of sound like a crazy, stalker. . .Anyways, I've come to the conclusion that a certain man and a certain woman who take the same bus home that I do every day are having an affair...here are my observations:
-the woman wears a wedding ring and the man does not
-at first glance their relationship may seem strictly friendly, but no guy friend of mine secretly gropes my bottom while exiting the bus (he's done this to her a couple of times).
-they could be married or engaged, but their interactions do not suggest so: for example, she says "hello Bob" when she sees him. Not "hi honey, how was your day?". In my opinion, saying "hi Bob" is way too formal for a marriage and very "let's-keep-our-affair-a-secret-from-the-nosey-bus-people-like-that-girl-with-the-fabulous-pink-bag-and-jacket-who-is-watching-us-right-now".
I need more evidence to make any conclusive decision, however. I will update you on any new developments as they come in. Over and out!

4. In other news, Mr. P and I are still going strong. Getting into boy-friend/girl-friend territory now. I went to his house recently in sweatpants, a hoodie (from 1975 . . no joke) and my glasses. I somehow let it slip about ye old blog and he wanted the address, but I explained that my blog was already sensored enough, what with my mom and my extended family reading it. He agreed that I needed my intellectual and creative freedom. I promised to let him see it when I was ready. In a somewhat unfortunate turn of events he found out that I had not only blocked him from my MSN Messenger list but that I had completely deleted him. He promptly added me again and I promised never to delete him...unless we bitterly parted ways in the future. We had some fun looking at some archived IM conversations between the two of us, I bragged about my cooking abilities and he pleaded to have an opporunity to witness and taste my fabulous creations. This Friday I'm cooking him a traditional Italian meal. Spaghetti, sausage and salad.

Because Tony (& Alayne) wanted to know more about "him, him, him" here are his vital stats:
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Dark Brown
Height: 5'10"
Age: I'll just say that he grew up in the '80's
Occupation: Admin. title within the film industry (he's explained, but I'm clueless...really) and part time bartender.

The Countdown:
**6 more days until the sisters are in Van!!**



Friday, December 03, 2004

In da "Loops" and My Red TUTU

Well, I'm off to Kamloops tonight to perform some top-secret-christmas-present-preparations. I better get a seat to myself on the Greyhound bus or someone's just going to have to put up with my legs in their lap! Ha ha . . . just kidding. But seriously, I really want my own seat, I even stuffed a pillow in my suitcase so I could snooze on the way there. I'm finally going to get my pictures from Halloween developed. For those of you who don't already know this, I was a ballerina for Halloween. It was the "awesomest" costume ever! My hair was pulled back into a classic ballerina bun, with a red ribbon tied into it. My costume consisted of a huge red tutu, a black corsette, black tights, black ballerina shoes, and a little black cardigan. I of course took full advantage of the event and wore a lot of make-up. A LOT. I'm talking RED lipstick, thick blush, and lots of eye make-up. It was fabulous. FAB. U. LOUS. Hopefully the pictures are fabulous as well. I was supposed to be the "Performance Ballerina" and DD was the "Practice Ballerina", but everyone kept on confusing me for "Dominatrix Ballerina". . .which got me to thinking. . .but then I realized that if I wanted to be Prime Minister one day, having a somewhat "questionable past" would not be good for my credability, so I resolved to use my costume only for Halloween. It is hanging on my closet door, as a constant reminder of how fabulous I can really be. Till next year red tutu. . .till next year.

Thursday, December 02, 2004

My Latest Obsession

[I STARTED WRITING THIS BLOG YESTERDAY, BUT WAS NOT VERY MOTIVATED TO FINISH IT. . .SORRY TO MY LOYAL READERS]

---from yesterday---

So, I've spent the last hour writing. . . re-thinking, re-starting, and re-wording the first sentence of this blog. . it seems I've been cursed with the "I Can't Get the Many Thoughts in My Head Onto This D*mn Computer in a Coherent But Witty Manner Disease". Excuse me while I leave my office (pfffh...yah right...I mean make-shift cubicle) to stomp up and down and let out a very loud and innapropriate grunt/squeal . . .

**short pause in blog**

Ahhh. . .that's better.

Okay, so Nicky (my sister who has run off to London with my other sister, Alayne a.k.a. "the inspiration for my Me, Me, Me Blog", to live, work and break the hearts of unsuspecting men with cute accents) has been wanting me to write about the intimate details of my relationship with the "New-Man-In-My-Life" since I mentioned him in my To Meet or Not Meet entry. Sorry Nicky, ladies, gentlemen, mom, and perverts. . .that ain't gonna happen on my PG13 rated Blog. However, I can't stop myself from giving just a few insights into the past two weeks. When I was trying to think of a good pseudonym for him, only one seemed fitting: "Mr. Persistent"/"Mr.P" for short. The reason for that, would take up a whole other blog. . .so till then you'll just have to speculate. . .okay?

---here's where I start to write today---

Actually, I feel like explaining the "Mr. Persistent" pseudonym today, so here it goes. . .

If you have read my To Meet or Not Meet entry, you will already know that I met Mr. Persistent on *ahem* Lavalife. . .(yeah whatever, I am SO not a loser. . . right?). I allowed him to add me to his MSN Messenger list and we chatted off and on for about a month. He really wanted to meet, but I was extremely apprehesive (I watch Oprah too much) and was full of excuses as to why I couldn't, plus, somehow my life seemed to be crawling with men at that time . . . men from my distant past, men from my recent past, and men from my "S.A.T.U.R.D.A.Y" nights out with my single and also fabulous friend DD. I didn't see how I could possible allow another man into the "mix", so I TRIED to cut him out of my life and stopped replying to his e-mails. Cruel? Perhaps. But give me break. . .we hadn't even met in flesh yet.

However, every 3 weeks or so he would send me an e-mail. They were always very sweet, never bordering on creepy, stalkerish, or desperate. He said things like, "I haven't heard from you in a bit so I was wondering what's up and how you're doing?" and "I still would like to meet you, what's good for you?". I thought I had succeeded in my "catch-and-release" tactic when he finally e-mailed me saying that he would stop e-mailing me if I did not return his last e-mail, but two weeks later he e-mailed again. When I read the first sentence and I qoute: "Hey ya lil brat! I lied!!!" I knew this was a man that I had to meet. The fact that he called me a "brat" made me laugh and brought a smile to my face weeks after the fact. So, two days later, with the approval of my great co-workers, I e-mailed him back. I apologized for my bratty behavior, he forgave me and we made plans to meet.

That was two weeks ago and I'm still kicking myself for not agreeing to meet him sooner. He's great. We're great. Everything is Great. However. . . I've dated enough to know that things can go from "Great" to "Horrible and Awkward" in the dating world just as fast as I can smell a cake in the office the moment it enters the building. (Alayne, I know you're laughing about the last sentence. . and to that I say WHATever!). PLUS, and this is a big one. . .he's a Capricorn (I'm a Pisces)! I'm not really into that stuff, but I was so happy when I read this: *courtesy of astrologyzone.com*

Capricorn's earth element and your water element blend beautifully and make a fertile combination. The sum total of your relationship is gentle support and caring. In bed, things should be great. Capricorns are delightfully slow and thoughtful in their approach. Your Capricorn will love your imaginative style and your deeply spiritual approach to the relationship.

**NOTE: THE SENTENCE IN BOLD. WHICH OF COURSE, MOM, WILL ONLY BE VERIFIED ON OUR WEDDING NIGHT**

Okay, you pervs. . .that's all you're getting out of me at the moment. . .I will update you later, but I will refrain from writing too much about Mr. P, as it would be rather embarassing if he happened to find my website. . .although if he does stick around it will be funny for us to look back on this.

So, you're probably wondering why I titled this My Latest Obsession. It actually has nothing to do with Mr. P, but with a Blog I stumbled upon recently. Actually, "Blog" is not a worthy word to describe it. Fabulously addictive and wonderfully insightful is better. I do not recommend my male readers to take it on, it's Sex and the City meets Bridgette Jones, with the added bonus that it's non-fiction!! It's such a great blog, the writer is now actually publishing a book. So, you're saying to yourself stop blabbing already Bryanna and give us the address!! Okay here it is: www.breakupbabe.blogspot.com. I suggest you start from the beginning . . .

P.S. A co-worker and I have been reading it like it's a bestselling novel. She's finished it already. . .I've made her swear not to reveal to me how it ends!!



Wednesday, December 01, 2004

Survey Says. . .

My technological deficiency became rather apparent yesterday when I tried to place a site counter on my blog. As you can see for yourself, my blog still does not have a site counter...and I lost two hours of my life that I will never get back again. I'm very curious to know who actually reads this thing, so I've created a short survey. All you have to do is copy the questions below and paste them into the comments section...you don't even have to answer all of them. Thanks!

Your Name:
Location:
Occupation:
Preferred Occupation:
Marital Status:
Astrological Sign:
Years You've Known Me:
My Hair: Better Straight or Curly?:
The first thing you would buy with 1 million dollars: