Bryanna and the City

Monday, January 31, 2005


Has this ever happened to you? You’re sitting on the toilette, or putting on your pyjamas, or checking out your bare ass in your full body mirror, when you spot something ugly, black and blue? Yes, my friends, I’m referring to the mystery bruise. No matter how hard you think about it, you can’t remember when, or how, or why it happened…all you know is that it hurts and it’s not the most attractive accessory. I’ll be honest with you, I fall victim to the mystery bruise on a regular basis.

Just this morning, I found a new mystery bruise. I was rubbing my nylons (why? Not sure) and I felt a very sore bump on the side of my lower, right leg. I rubbed it harder…why? Because I like pain? Umm.. I’m not sure why I rubbed it harder…but I did this until I realized I had a large, bumpy bruise (I’m wearing black nylons, but if you look closely you can see it). This is the type of bruise that you should usually remember getting at the time…I vaguely remember hurting myself, but I really can’t place it. And, no, there were no shenanigans this weekend.

It was a pretty tame weekend for Bryanna and the City. Friday night I made sushi with DD and Lexi at Red’s house, Saturday I hung out with Mr. P (did you kick me?) and Sunday I ventured out of the house for maybe an hour. I have two other bruises from last Saturday, but I’m sure the one on my left shin and my right foot are from my tipsy attempt at getting on the platform to dance with Andrew (I can’t always be classy…ok? And in case you’re wondering, yes, I did make it on the platform and I would prefer not to talk about it). Anyways, I’m starting to feel like Courtney Love...definitely not the desired look I’m going for…

Do you have any mystery bruises? If so, I’d like to hear about them.

Friday, January 28, 2005

If I could whistle

Zippidy doo da, zippidy day, my oh my what a wonderful day…plenty of sunshine going my way….zippidy doo da, zippidy day!

It is such a beautiful day today! If I crank my neck to left I can see outside to the blue sky and the sun reflecting off the downtown Vancouver skyscrapers. Have I told you how much I love Vancouver? No? I LOVE THIS CITY!! I really do! It’s still January and it feels like spring. When I was walking to the bus today I saw a large tree or maybe it was a shrub? anyways, the flowers on it were in full bloom. Large, beautiful bright pink flowers! I LOVE THIS CITY AND I LOVE PINK!

The wonders of this day do not end there with the gorgeous weather…oh no…there’s more.

Have I told you about my pink jacket? Well, it has been retired to my closet since the weather became milder, but I could have never anticipated the reaction I would get out of it….from complete strangers, no less. I have been told a least three times on the bus that it is beautiful: “I just have to say, I LOVE YOUR JACKET” and almost every time I entered a retail store at least one sales person mentioned something about it (I know they have to be nice, it is their job, but it is still a beautiful jacket). Oh, and just this Tuesday, a guy who I often see on the bus, but never talked to, said to me, “must be getting warmer, you’re not wearing your pink coat”.

But, today, as I was getting off the bus I noticed a woman with the cutest pink purse…when I was crossing the street this same woman stopped me and said: “I just have to say this to you. I see you on the bus all of the time and I love your pink purse and your pink jacket is beautiful. You inspired me to get a pink purse myself.” I was flattered and shocked at the same time and told her that I was just thinking the same thing about her pink purse! I’m not making this stuff up, it really happened. Then a complete stranger initiated a conversation me about my pants…seems she bought the same one’s from the Gap, but when she tried them on at home they were too short. Funny story because these pants were given to me by NMG for the same reason.

I hope everyone has a fabulous weekend!

…there’s a blue bird on my shoulder… (When I was four I took ballet…I remember skipping around the studio to this song in my pink leotards and pink body suit…that accentuated my little belly)


Thursday, January 27, 2005

I just couldn't resist...sorry

Before I came to work today I knew exactly what I was going to write about, that is, until I read Anonymous's comment. While on the bus this morning, I had to stop myself from shaking, crying and "lashing out irrationally" just thinking about what I watched last night. It was an A&E special on the correlation between people who abuse animals and people who abuse humans. As a sociology major, this kind of stuff usual interests me so I decided to watch it. I had to turn the channel 5 times. I don't think I've missed Otis this much since he passed away 3 months ago. I can't seem to get one disturbing image in particular out of my mind. When Otis was around, I would always feel better after I saw something like this because I could hug him and kiss him. This image is of Scruffy, a dog of the same breed as Otis (Yorkshire Terrier), who was taken from his loving family by a thing that does not even deserve to be called a man or even human. This thing taped the torture of Scruffy. Taped Scruffy being used for target practice. Taped Scruffy being stuffed into a garbage bag and suffocated. Taped Scruffy being set on fire. Every time they went back to this disgusting footage I turned the channel, but I saw enough to be haunted by what little of it I actually did see. Sometimes I'm so disgusted with humanity! If a dog attacks a human they are most likely "destroyed"...but when a person does the same they are allowed to remain in our putrid vile beings capable of doing the same horrid acts on children, women and men. I had more to say about this, but I'm literally tired from my last post and as I predicted debriefing has settled me down. Hmm...I really miss Otis.

I don't give a snit!

First things first…

I want to make one thing clear. I may be “passive aggressive” in my every day so-called “real” life, but the online sphere has never caused me to cower. If you don’t agree with what I say in MY Blog (hmm…funny how I have to defend what I write in my journal), feel free to voice your opinions. I will respect them and may agree with what you say or I may not, but something that I DO NOT RESPECT….ummm nope that wasn’t strong enough…let’s see…SOMETHING THAT I VIEW AS COWARDLY AND DEVOID OF ANY “MORAL FIBRE” is people who think it’s acceptable to voice their opinions “Anonymously” . To me these are not “opinions” because they DO NOT BELONG TO ANYONE. Don’t be scared…if you truly believe in what you write, then SIGN YOUR NAME. The reason I’m so perturbed this morning is that I checked my comments today and this is what I found:

At 5:33 PM, Anonymous said...
Honesty and moral fiber are always required.

In response to my comment:
At 3:19 PM, Bry said...
Tony,There's no logical explanation for shrink is investigating this for me. If I don't want to give my number to a guy I'll usually ask for his instead. On my birthday last year I borrowed my rooommates cell phone and pretended to put the numbers of three men into it. Little did they know that I had no idea what I was doing. Or, I will pull the "I have a boyfriend" card. At this level of human interaction (i.e. meeting someone at a bar) I really don't think honesty is expected or morally required. Just my personal opinion.

Okay, so Miss/Ms./Mrs./Mr. Anonymous on their “high horse” of human morality believes that “honesty and moral fiber are always required”. Huh? A wise professor taught me a couple years ago that statements without justification are useless. This, is a prime example.

So according to Anonymous, I should be honest to men who I do not want to give my number to. He or she believes that this would be the “moral” way to respond. Okay, let’s play a game Anonymous….I walk into a bar with a couple of girl friends. We get some drinks and then decide to head to the dance floor. While we’re out there enjoying ourselves a few men come over and start to dance with us. One of them offers to buy me a drink, but I’m not that interested in him and I don’t need another drink. He sticks around me the entire night. Okay, so at this point should I be honest? Should I tell him what I’m “honestly” thinking? Say to him, “look buddy, you’re not my type. You’re creepy and sleazy. You’re constantly looking at my chest and the thought of you coming any closer to me makes me want to vomit!” Because that’s what I “honestly” want to say. Do you see my point? My point is that honesty is not always the path to morality. Sometimes it IS more moral to tell this guy that I have a boyfriend.

Here’s an example that has been used time and time again. If a friend gets a hair cut that she or he really likes but you hate, should you be honest? Ummm NO! I’m not saying you have to tell him or her that you love it, but in my opinion telling someone you hate their new hair cut is not morally acceptable. Trust me. Whenever I straighten my naturally curly hair, it’s like I cut off my right arm to some of the women at work. Every effing time!!! I hear comments like, “oh, you straightened your hair….I like your curls better” or “what did you do to it?” or “I think God knows best”. Huh? What? DID I ASK FOR YOU HONEST OPINION? UMM…I DON”T THINK SO!!!!!! Maybe I should reply to them honsetly and say, “hmmm..ever thought of botox?” or “I liked your outfit better in the ‘80’s”. Sorry, I’m just being “honest”.

So yeah, I believe that “honesty” has its place, should be valued and respected, but if you really think that it’s “always required” then, honestly, you’re effing crazy.


I thought this entry was ready to post, but then I came across this:

At 11:16 AM, Anonymous said...
Well Missy in a Snit, surely even you should be able to understand that particularily in a bar with strangers is the ideal time for honesty and moral fiber. The old adage: the truth will set you free is apparently lost on you.

*Shudder* there are just too many things about those two sentences that make me want to scream! "Missy in a Snit"?!! "Surely even you"?!! "Old adage"?!! "the truth will set you free"?!!LOL!!!! Can you see the smoke coming out of my ears?!

Who are YOU? What do YOU have to hide? Huh? Huh? Huh? The truth will set you free anonymous...hmmm that sentence sounds familiar.

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

For those of you in cubicle land (read:Hell)...

A co-worker of mine e-mailed this to me today. I had to stop reading it partway through because I was laughing so hard that I could barely breathe and my eyes were running...Enjoy!

Workplace Dare Game

1. Run one lap around the office at top speed.
2. Ignore the first five people who say 'good morning' to you.
3. Phone someone in the office you barely know, leave your name and say, "Just called to say I can't talk right now. Bye."
4. To signal the end of a conversation, clamp your hands over your ears and grimace.
5. When someone hands you a piece of paper, finger it, and whisper huskily, "Mmmmmmm, that feels soooooo good!"
6. Leave your zipper open for one hour. If anyone points it out, say, "Sorry, I really prefer it this way".
7. Walk sideways to the photocopier.
8. While riding the elevator, gasp dramatically every time the doors open.
9. Groan out loud in the toilet cubicle (at least one other 'non-player' must be in the toilet at the time).

1. Say to your boss, "I like your style" and shoot him with double-barrelled fingers.
2. Babble incoherently at a fellow employee then ask, "Did you get all that, I don't want to have to repeat it".
3. Page yourself over the intercom (do not disguise your voice).
4. Kneel in front of the water cooler and drink directly from the nozzle (there must be a 'non-player' within sight).
5. Shout random numbers while someone is counting.

1. At the end of a meeting, suggest that, for once, it would be nice to conclude with the singing of the national anthem (extra points if you actually launch into it yourself).
2. Walk into a very busy person's office and while they watch you with growing irritation, turn the light switch on/off 10 times.
3. For an hour, refer to everyone you speak to as "Bob".
4. Announce to everyone in a meeting that you "really have to go do a number two".
5. After every sentence, say 'Mon' in a really bad Jamaican accent. As in "the report's on your desk, Mon". Keep this up for one hour.
6. While an office mate is out, move their chair into the elevator.
7. In a meeting or crowded situation, slap your forehead repeatedly and mutter, "Shut up, damn it, all of you just shut up!"
8. At lunchtime, get down on your knees and announce, "As God as my witness, I'll never go hungry again".
9. In a colleague's diary, write in 10am: "See how I look in tights".
10. Carry your keyboard over to your colleague and ask, "You wanna trade?"
11. Repeat the following conversation 10 times to the same person: "Do you hear that?" "What?" "Never mind, it's gone now".
12. Come to work in army fatigues and when asked why, say, "I can't talk about it".
13. Posing as a maitre d', call a colleague and tell him he's won a lunch for four at a local restaurant. Let him go.
14. Speak with an accent (French, German, Porky Pig, etc) during a very important conference call.
15. Find the vacuum and start vacuuming around your desk.
16. Hang a two-foot long piece of toilet roll from the back of your pants and act genuinely surprised when someone points it out.
17. Present meeting attendees with a cup of coffee and biscuit, smash each biscuit with your fist.
18. During the course of a meeting, slowly edge your chair towards the door.

They just seem to multiply

I think a have a third phantom roommate. She must be a ballerina because evidence of her is everywhere. What am I taking about? I’m talking about bobby-pins people. Little brown hairpins that seem to show up almost everywhere in our place. You must think I’m overreacting…trust me, I’m not. I knew we had a problem with this, but it became blaringly apparent a few days ago that it has turned into an epidemic. They are literally everywhere…in the kitchen, under the couch, on the couch, behind the TV, on top of the TV, under the rugs, on top of the rugs, in my bedroom, in my bed, oh and let’s not forget the bathroom and the three hairpins cohabitating in our shower at this very minute. This is funny until I go to pin my hair back and my basket that’s supposed to contain all of my bobby pins is empty. I think I’m going to perform a hairpin exorcism on our house tonight. I will update you tomorrow.

Nothing to do with swimming

This is for my fellow female readers. I live with two women and work with three others in very close quarters. I have one word to describe this…. synchronization. Our bodies are crazy, no? When did they decide that it would be a “good/ smart/ safe idea” for women who live together to experience such things at? the? same? time? I can see most of my male readers looking rather quizzical at this moment and thinking “huh? what is she talking about?” Well, I’m not going to explain…look it up yourself on Google (Type: women and synchronization). Anyways, it’s become apparent in the past three months that my body is definitely not a leader and merely a follower…yes, all I have to do is sit next to a women with low estrogen on the bus and then “oh, what do we have here?!” Perhaps this explains my look-at-me-sideways-one-more-time-lady-and-I’ll-scratch-out-your-eyes-with-my-dull-fingernails mood? I sure hope so.

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Has this ever happened to you?

Due to the nature of the company I work for, we have a security plan in case a crazy person comes to the office with a shotgun. I take these things seriously because two years ago such an occurrence happened in my Dad’s office. Two murders took place that day and one suicide… yes, this kind of stuff does happen in this jolly ol’ country up North. Anyways, today they decided to do a “test run”. Guess where I was? Yup, the ladies room.

I was by myself, you know, taking care of my “business” when this piercing alarm went off. The frequency was so strong that even now I have a headache. The worst part was that I needed to get out of the bathroom, but I was trying to plug my ears, while at the same time…how do I say this? err…trying to wipe my a*s. Doing all these thing at once was hard, but you know me, I managed eventually. When I finally exited the bathroom the office was deserted. Luckily, I knew the routine. The point of this story, you ask? Well, I guess it’s simply don’t get caught with your pants down when you will need the use of your hands.


Three U.S. army officers walk into a Canadian bar …

Have you heard this one before?

Right. So I woke up this morning actually able to breathe…let me tell you why.

5 months ago A.K.A. the first week of September A.K.A. the week I moved back to Vancouver, had an interview for a new job that afternoon, got the job and started 3 days later, DD and I went out to one of Vancouver’s Irish pubs. Just to catch up and have a few pints. As we’re sitting there enjoying ourselves and, of course, the great Canadian beer, we spot three men…did I say men? Let me rephrase this, we saw three boys attempting to pass themselves off as men. Yes, this sounds harsh, but if you saw them I guarantee you would agree with me on this one. They caught us looking at them so we quickly turned away. This was our muffled conversation:

DD: Oh my God…I think they’re coming this way.
Me: Seriously? Stop looking at them.
DD: Pretend we’re having a deep conversation.
Me: I think it’s too late.
DD: Why is it always us?
Me: Because we’re the youngest looking girls here.
DD: Shh …they’re here.

Being the polite people that we are, we humoured these boys. They told us that they were members of the US Army. We asked them if they were actually legal … in Canada. They assured us they were. Right. They complained about their current situations. Explained to us that they were given a choice to either join the army or be sent to prison because of Marijuana possession charges. DD and I gave each other a “the US Army is made up of a bunch of young men trying to avoid jail time” look and just as we were making our “exit”, they offered to buy us another beer. We shrugged and thought, a free pint? Why not? What’s the worst that could happen?

We endured another half hour of their mind numbing pissing contest banter. At one point they were complaining about how they hated the US Army. So I asked them what they thought about Bush? The one boy, who shouted when he spoke, replied and I quote, “they’re ok”. I replied with a “huh?” and he said, “oh, I said the bands ok”. DD and I looked at each other again…both thinking are these guys for real? I clarified my question and said, “no, I mean what do you think about George Bush, you know the man who made you join the army, the man who’s sending you away to fight this ‘War on Iraq’?” They responded simply, “he gave us a raise, so I’m gonna vote for him again”. DD and I knew it was time for us to leave…my genius idea was to give them my number so that they could “call us later” if we wanted to meet up. A call that I never intended to answer…and lucky me, they never called.

Now, let’s jump forward 5 months to January 23, 2005. After a night of many hours of dancing (BTW—my body STILL feels like it’s been subjected to a 25km run…without stretching afterwards) I checked my voice mail for any missed messages.

Most of them were for my roommates, one of them was from my mom, and then there was this one : “Hey Bry, it’s Trav, give me a call at 715-###-####. Okay, bye”. My first reaction was, Bryanna? Did you give your number to someone last night? This was highly unlikely considering the “nature” of this club, if you know what I mean, plus it was made before I actually entered the bar that night. I checked for the number on my caller ID and was dumbfounded to see that it said “Wisconsin”. Wha? Huh?

From what I remembered I had NEVER met anyone from Wisconsin let alone someone by the name of Travis. But who could it be? I dissected the message. He sounded nervous, but also like he knew me, and then I thought, wait a second he called me “Bry”…. no one calls me Bry, unless they’ve known me for a long time. Could it be? Has someone actually tracked down my number from my Blog? Is it possible? I soon realized that, yes, it was possible ( I have since then removed my e-mail address because of this). I called the number back but only got his voice mail. I left a brief message and proceeded to completely freak out.

Yesterday, DD and I were discussing this situation. You know, going through the people we’ve met and figuring out if there was any other explanation. Then she suggested, “what about those guys we met back in September?” The second she said it I knew that’s who it was. I hung up the phone with her and called his number again. This time he answered.

Trav: Hello?
Me: Is this Travis?
Trav: Yes.
Me: Hey, this is Bry. How do I know you?
Trav: I think we met back in September.
Me: Oh thank God! Look, this is costing me a fortune, take care. Bye.

So, the mystery is solved and I can officially breathe again. Let this be a lesson to anyone who is also “loose” when is comes to giving out his or her number. It will come back to haunt you. Be smart. Say no. Or at least give them the wrong number.


Monday, January 24, 2005

Where Shall I Begin?

Let’s see … the beginning I guess? When I last wrote, I mentioned that Steve was most likely out of the picture. Oh how naïve and silly I was to actually believe this. I truly thought that “whatever this was” had ended on Wednesday night, unceremoniously and more importantly, without having to awkwardly explain that the reason that I have been avoiding him for two months was because I had met someone else. So, when my roommate handed me the phone, while mouthing the words “I’m sorry”, early Friday evening, I knew the time had come. I knew that I had to put an end to these silly phone call shenanigans. Once. And. For. All!!

Ughh…it was awkward, it was extremely difficult, and all you need to know is that I did it. It’s over. Please, God, let it be over! (This may sound sad and desperate…calling on God and all, but you’ll understand why I’m so tired of this when you’re finished reading this post). After those five minutes of extreme awkwardness I mixed myself a cocktail and watched “The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood” on TBS. Fitting, no?

Okay, so that was my Friday night. I woke up bright and early on Saturday morning and was very happy to get a phone call from NMG in London. We picked a date for our trip. I’m flying to London on July 14 to see what NMG and AYG love about London, and then we’re flying to Turkey and Greece. I’ll be back in Canada on August 16, just enough time to find a new apartment for September. I can’t wait to get out of the country and, of course, soak up some sun.

Have I mentioned that I’m a salon product junkie? No? Here it goes. My name is Bryanna and I’m a hair product addict. My hair is naturally curly, but I am able to straighten. This is double trouble because it means that I have to buy products for both curly and straight hair. Anyways, I had to do some errands on Saturday and as I was passing a salon my eye caught something red. I looked closer and they were little red sale tags. Yes, little red sale tags on all of the salon products. I resisted, but the temptation was too strong. And besides, I thought to myself…it’s all on sale. A ha ha ha…right. I left there with a bag full of products and a debit card 5 dollars away from holding insufficient funds.

I promised my mom I would not talk about my Saturday night activity…and frankly, I just don’t want to relive it. It was actually a very, very, very fun night. I went out to a club with Lexi, Andrew, some girls I met that night and DD (sort of…I won’t embarrass her by explaining what that means). The club had a very friendly vibe and I danced the night away…apparently unaware that my pointy pink shoes were trying to eat my feet one blister at a time…ouch.

So, I have decided to take the pink post-it that says” I’m naïve and stupid” off of my forehead this morning. I don’t want to get into it, but it became apparent this weekend that it is VERY easy to track me down from the information available about me on ye old blog. I have since then removed the offending piece of personal information.

Last Friday I mentioned the man who’s been hanging around our house. I’ve been on edge ever since then and the Saturday night incident did not alleviate this whatsoever. This next short story will be entitled, “How to make Bryanna cr*p her pants”.

When Mr.P dropped me off on Sunday, I was home alone. I had just finished a phone conversation with my mom when I heard someone try to enter the suite through the back door. The door was locked. At first I thought it was one of my roommates and was about to go to the door to let her in. Then the person tried the door again, but this time, very forcefully. It was like a horror movie! Bang, bang, bang, rattle, rattle, rattle. I grabbed the phone, terrified out of my mind and was just about to cal 911 when I heard laughing. It was both of my roommates who thought it would be funny, in light of our new stalker, to freak the holy cr*p out of me. I couldn’t stop shaking for 30 minutes. And I was still pretty rattled when I went bed. I am so going to get them back…I don’t know how, but I will…I always do.

Anways…the pink post-it has been removed. And I’m officially looking over my shoulder …again.

Friday, January 21, 2005


So I've been sitting here for about 30 minutes trying to think of something to write about. I had about 500 words written about how bloggers are able to make stupid experiences in their life seem funny/exciting/cool, but it had no focus AND was really lame. Hmmm.....err....have I told you about the time I used my roommates shower puff? Yeah? Oh, right...let me see...Ah ha!! I've got it! So, this entry should be entitled..."Why tell someone you're just not that into them, when you have a roommate that will do it for you for free".

For those of you who don't know the history behind Steve go here first ....

So on Wednesday night Mr. P and I hung out. We made soup and sandwiches for dinner and watched "The Secret Window" (BAD movie...predictable and just not my kind of movie...during the gross ending I kept saying "I don't want to watch this" over and over again..I'm sure Mr. P enjoyed that a lot). Anways, Mr. P picked me up at approximately 8:15...when I returned home that night, lo and behold the caller ID that never lies showed that Steve had called at approximately 8:20 (talk about great timing for me).

The next morning my roommate told me that Steve had called, so I asked her what he said ... Here's a rough composite of their conversation from what she told me went down, all I have to say is I think he gets the whole "She's just not that into" point now.

Roomie: Hello?
Steve: Hi, can I speak with Bryanna?
Roomie: oh, she just left ... is this Mr.P? (she's done this before to a few other guys, I get a kick out of it)
Steve: No.
Roomie: oh, would you like to leave her a message?
Roomie: err..okay.
Steve: ...just forget that I called.
Roomie: K, bye.
Steve: Bye.

So, I'm thinking he won't call anymore...although I have been wrong about these things before. I felt a twinge of guilt when she first told me the story, but then I remembered that HE was the one who wanted this to be "casual", HE was the one who waited two weeks to call, HE was the one who "didn't care" if I dated other people, and HE was the one who repeatedly called me the day/night he wanted to hang out (how 'bout a little courtesy, boy? It's not like I'm waiting around for you to call!). Anyways, I really don't like hurting people's feelings, but it's not like this guy was new to the dating game... he should have known better, mkay?

Last night our "replacement landlord" left us a message about a man she's seen walking through out yard about 4 times. She asked if we knew him and if we didn't she was going to tell him to stop snooping aroung the house. I've never actually seen the guy, but almost crapped my pants when I saw the dog right in front of our den window... anways, let's just say that I've been careful to lock both doors now. What really creeps me out is that I don't have blinds or curtains on my bedroom window. I thought this was okay because our yard is surrounded by a huge shrub and foot traffic by it is non-existent (this makes it even more disconcerting because the front yard is very private). Or so I thought...maybe he's enjoyed my pre-bedtime dance around my room? *Creepy*

So, to re-cap: One stalker down...and a new one on the table. Fabulous.

Thursday, January 20, 2005

Lookie over there ---->

I added an instant message board to my Blog. I'm checking this thing all the time, so leave a message....I'll most likely reply!!

[MY SIDE OF THE CONVERSATION I'LL HAVE WITH MY MOM TONIGHT: "Mom, scroll down..a little more...stop. Okay, see the little purple box. No! It's on your right. Yeah, that's it. Okay, all you have to do is enter your name and message..then press go...]

11 Weird/Crazy/Interesting/OCD Things You Don’t Know About Moi

#1. I only walk home down one side of the street. There’s nothing overtly wrong with the other side of the street and I couldn’t really tell you why I do this, but for the past 4 months since I’ve moved back, it’s been right side only. I’ve tried to make myself try left, but every time I try, I just stand there feeling nervous and confused until the sign says “walk” so I can get to the right side.

#2. I’m a calendar day crosser-offer. Yup, for some reason it gives me great satisfaction and a little bit of pleasure to cross days off my calendars in thick black or pink ink. I do this while humming “Another One Bites the Dust”.

#3. I hate public bathrooms. This has nothing to do with germs, but completely to do with bad mirrors and even worse lighting. I have an image of what I look like in my head and I don’t need no fluorescent lighting to tell me any different. However, I’m no fool and I value my kidneys, so I make sacrifices sometimes.

#4. My morning routine is calculated and executed down to the minute.
6:22 --- Alarm goes off . Hit the snooze.
6:30 --- Alarm goes off again. Turn off alarm and get up. Grab towel and bathrobe.
6:35 --- Shower. Shampoo. Lather. Rinse. Conditioner in. Soap up body using MY shower puff. Rinse body. Rinse conditioner out of hair using blue pick.
6:45 --- Out of Shower. Product in hair. Brush teeth. Contacts in.
6:55 --- Enter bedroom. Turn on radio. Do make-up.
7:10 --- Diffuse hair.
7:25 --- Pick outfit to wear. Iron if needed. Get dressed.
7:40 --- Put lunch and breakfast into pink bag.
7:50 --- Head for the bus stop. Apply lip gloss and lipstick on the way.

#5. My alarm is set to the only radio station that is not fuzzy. All I know is that they are not speaking English, or any other language that I am familiar with, which is actually good because it prevents me from listening and falling back to sleep.

#6. During the first War on Sadam aka the first “Gulf War”, I was about 7 years old. My parents let us watch the footage on the news. I was extremely traumatized. I truly believed that huge war tanks were going to come to my cul-de-sac and blow up my house, take my grandfather and father away to fight and make us wash dirty floors with toothbrushes. I’m not joking, that’s what I thought. I was only terrified at night and I didn’t tell anyone about my fears. My only comfort was Disney’s The Little Mermaid. I would go through the movie in my head and would usually fall asleep. So, if anyone has little children, don’t let them watch war propaganda and if by chance they do, explain to them that the war is far, far away. Or else they’ll end up crazy (albeit bordering on genius) like me.

#7. My parents bought my sisters and I the Beatrix Potter “Peter Rabbit” book collection when we were little. My favourite story was when Peter was caught by some other deviously, wicked furry animals. They tied him up and rolled him into dough. They intended to bake him and then eat him up. Of course he got away, but I loved this story. It was so intriguing and perverse at the same time. It’s really the only story that I remember out of the series in detail. Hmm…I think this one deserves a WWFSat?

#8. Seeing an animal suffering pulls at my “heart strings” more than seeing a fellow human being suffering (this does not include children of course). I can’t watch the PETA commercial about dancing bears without crying and getting extremely angry and frustrated. I intentionally put this one after #7, just to illustrate how bizarre I can be.

#9. I dance. Every. Single. Day. Usually by myself. In my bedroom. And Before I go to sleep. I Let my hair down and “bust a move”. I recommend it. Keeps me sane and tires me out.

#10. I don’t like water. I force myself to drink it because I know it’s good for me. But I always have to stop myself from making the I-just-drank-a-teaspoon-of-Buckley’s face when I do.

#11. I count my steps between cement breaks on sidewalks. If I’m in a hurry, I’ll make a usual 3 step gap a 2 step one. Sometimes, though, I’m forced to make them 2.5ers. A perfectly spaced 2 step gap really makes me happy. And by Buchanan at UBC there’s a 1 stepper. I suggest you try it. It’s actually pretty relaxing because it clears your head.

Wednesday, January 19, 2005

Look! A Horsey!

You Are a Dreaming Soul

Your vivid emotions and imagination takes you awy from this world
So much so that you tend to live in your head most of the time
You have great dreams and ambitions that could be the envy of all...
But for you, following through with your dreams is a bit difficult

You are charming, endearing, and people tend to love you.
Forgiving and tolerant, you see the world through rose colored glasses.
Underneath it all, you have a ton of passion that you hide from others.
Always hopeful, you tend to expect positive outcomes in your life.

Souls you are most compatible with: Newborn Soul, Prophet Soul, and Traveler Soul


Your Famous Blogger Twin is Wil Wheaton

You're a friendly, funny guy (or girl) next door
With more than a touch of geekiness

"It's a Chinook!"

Throughout my day, many possible blog entries go in and out of my head. In fact I have many entries just hanging out in my brain right now. For example, “10 Crazy/Weird/Interesting/OCD Things That You DO NOT Know About Me” or “What My Shoes Really Think About Me” or The “My Most (fill in the blank) Experience” Series … So you’re probably thinking, “what does this mean for me?” Well, my fabulous, voyeuristic readers, this means that I will ALWAYS have something to write about … always have SOMETHING to say, even if it’s not ALWAYS interesting (on second thought, I’m thinking that “What My Shoes Really Think About Me” won’t be as funny as it sounds).

On a completely unrelated side-note, I took an IQ test yesterday and my score was up there with people such as physicians, professors, lawyers etc. … Here’s a quote from my results:

Bry, you are a WORD WARRIOR. This means you have exceptional
verbal skills. You can easily make sense of complex issues and take an
unusually creative approach to solving problems. Your strengths also
make you a visionary. ---
That sounds just about right!

I guess I’m not just a pretty, modest face after all! So, if you think you’re smarter than me, then go here and take the challenge (I already gave one clue away to my mom, let’s just say that it involved the Pythagorean Theorem).

Okay, enough about me…a ha ha ha. Who am I kidding?! It’s all about me! Okay, so last night I had this really witty entry ready about the crazy amount of rain that Vancouver’s been getting in the past couple of days … Yeah, yeah ... I can hear you all laughing at that line and thinking to yourselves, for someone so smart, you haven’t figured out that it rains in Vancouver yet, Bryanna?? Okay, yeah, I’m aware that Vancouver gets a lot of rain, but this was insane. Really, it was. It rained so much that there’s no snow left! It rained so much that I had to wear my 4 inch heels just to save myself from being swept away by 3 inch streams! It rained so much that…meh, you get the point. But, when I stepped outside my place this morning, umbrella ready at my side, I was assaulted not with rain, but with a gust of wind warmer than the temperature inside my basement suite. I’m serious (sorry, to those experiencing –30 weather right now…really, *stifled snickering* I feel for you) it was like “spring had sprung” in January!!

I didn’t have time to change my jacket, so I immediately removed my scarf, unbuttoned my jacket and let the warm air guide me to the bus stop. I felt happy, I felt invigorated, I felt like nothing could drag me down today ... then, I felt my stocking start to slip. But, instead of fixing it, I just let it slip! This was exactly what I needed, was secretly wishing for and it had finally come! My Chinook! And it was fabulous!

However, this means that I’ll have to say good-bye to my dear brown/beige/pink jacket. We had three great months together. You sheltered me from the rain, the cold, the snow, and the sleet. Thank you for always being like a warm hug on a cold day. You will be stored in my closet till next November, but don’t worry, I will think of you often and remember you fondly. Perhaps I will even take you out for a spin if the weather drops below freezing again. Good-bye …for now.

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

No words

I wasn't sure what to write today, news travels quickly in a small town. I remember studying this poem my second year of university. It's message is powerful; better than anything I could say today...

For whom the bell tolls (No man is an island)
by John Donne

No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manner of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.

Monday, January 17, 2005

Oh yeah

I think it's about time I changed my phone number. This past month I've been haunted by men(<--euphemism) of relationships (<--euphemism) past at an alarming rate and it's starting to really, really annoy me. Honestly, boys, what's up with the random phone calls? I wasn't aware that January was please-give-me-another-chance-month! I think I'll take Tisha's advice (thanks, girl) and just growl at them the next time one calls...actually, on second thought, that might encourage them ... ah ha ha ha. All I have to say is that it's really not acceptable to call a girl you dated over 8 months ago on a Saturday night, especially when you've had the "look-dude-I'm-with-someone-new" conversation already.

Don't worry, changing my number is a joke (I'm not THAT passive aggressive). In fact, I think I gained half a b*ll this Saturday when I told Engineer Boy that "no" I would not be meeting up with him later that night and that "I've been dating someone that I really like for the past 2 months" and that "I'm not interested".

Speaking of this someone that I really like and have been dating for the past 2 months, last night he not-so-subtly commented that I have not blogged about him lately. He complained that Mr.P mentions have changed from "main attractions" into small "side-notes". He seemed somewhat hurt, so I said that I would write about him today. So, last night Mr. P and I picked up some groceries and I quickly whipped up spaghetti and a crab salad. It was actually pretty good considering the sauce was *gasp with an Italian accent* FROM A CAN! We ate and watched Garden State at the same time (multi-taskers that we are), which was a pretty good movie (not fantastic mind you). Okay, so this doesn't qualify as a "main attraction" Mr.P post, but it will have to do for now. There's not much to report on when things are going well ... I guess I'll just have to instigate a fight soon (for the sake of my blog).

Not much to say... I thought I'd do's the results from my career test...they gave me two sets of results, still trying to figure out which one I like better.

Outgoing (E) 50% Withdrawn (I) 50%
Imaginative (N) 51.35% Realistic (S) 48.65%
Emotional (F) 62.86% Intellectual (T) 37.14%
Organized (J) 82.76% Improvised (P) 17.24%
Your type is: ENFJ
You are a Persuader, possible professions include - entertainer, recruiter, artist, newscaster, writer/journalist, recreation director, librarian, facilitator, politician, psychologist, housing director, career counselor, sales trainer, travel agent, program designer, corporate/team trainer, child welfare worker, social worker (elderly services), interpreter/translator, occupational therapist, executive
Take Free Career Test
personality tests by

Outgoing (E) 50% Withdrawn (I) 50%
Imaginative (N) 51.35% Realistic (S) 48.65%
Emotional (F) 62.86% Intellectual (T) 37.14%
Organized (J) 82.76% Improvised (P) 17.24%
Your type is: INFJ
You are a Guide, possible professions include - career counselor, psychologist, educational consultant, special education teacher, librarian, artist, playwright, novelist/poet, editor/art director, information-graphics, designer, HRM manager, merchandise planner, environmental lawyer, marketer, job analyst, mental health counselor, dietitian/nutritionist, research, educational consultant, architects, interpreter/translator.
Take Free Career Test
personality tests by

Friday, January 14, 2005

Hot Pink

I’m tired. In fact, I’m so tired that I can’t even summon the energy to describe just-how-tired-I-am. I hate this feeling. Especially when I have to sit in a cold office, listening to cd’s that I’m already sick of, while at the same time trying to look like I’m, you know, actually working. Ha! Who am I kidding? Right now I’m just trying to look ALIVE. Which is even harder this morning because I have decided to give up my workday morning coffee. I made this decision after I noticed a mild reoccurrence of the acid reflux symptoms I had over the holidays … and let me tell you, I’ll take sluggishness over acidic belches any day (perhaps too much information so early in the morning…?).

The problem is that I’m not the type of person who can function with less than 8 hours of shut-eye, let alone five. So, you’re probably wondering why I was up so late…probably envisioning a crazy night of dancing, drinking, boys and buffalo bratwurst…a ha ha ha. Well, my friends, sorry to disappoint, but I was actually at my place the whole night. A friend of mine is down for the weekend and we spent the night catching up…she wanted to know all the (non-blog-sensored) scoop on Mr.P. We talked until 1:30 … way past my required 10:00 bed time (ever since the summer of The Great Illness aka Mono and my a-typical symptoms, my hard-core party tolerance has diminished *almost to the point of non-existence).

But, enough of that …I actually want to tell you about my latest purchase.

Yesterday DD contacted me via my blog (I check it more than my e-mail now…yes, I’m a loser). The message had an urgent undertone…you know the “we have to meet because we have to talk”…and evidently this talk has to be in person. We arranged to meet at the McDonald’s on Granville…the non-sleazy one. Right. So, if you know me, you’ll know that I went to the sleazy one first…(I’m like a dog. I always get lost, but in the end I find my way home.) DD needed someone to listen to her latest adventures with X. All I have to say is that I was wrong. Men ARE complicated creatures…one day wanting their “space” and the next day dropping the GF-bomb…ugghh….men.

So after we gorged ourselves with mall food court artery clogging goodness we decided to get in a little retail therapy. Guess what I bought? I’ll give you some clues…they’re hot pink, have a bow, and were $10 on sale (that’s Canadian dollars my US and UK readers)…good guess, but no, they’re not a pair of fuzzy, pink, pig slippers…they’re actually the cutest pair of shoes ever. If I had a digital camera I would show you a picture of them. They look so bright and happy on my shoe shelf with all their other shoe friends. Which include two other pairs of pink shoes as well…yeah, I like me some pink.

Anyways, I’m thinking I’ll wear them this weekend with my new funky tights and my hot pink skirt. … or on second thought, maybe not.

[*Almost, meaning except on the weekend]

Thursday, January 13, 2005

If only I had some b*lls

So I mentioned in my Try This One On For Size! entry that I was currently dealing with a “Steve” . I would like to report that this little “problem” was resolved last night, but I think it has become worse. You see, I’m extremely passive aggressive. The only people that I do argue with/fight with/ bite/ do WWF moves on etc. are my sisters and they have been living in what they like to call “The place that cannot be mentioned” a.k.a. London, UK. (this occurred after I somewhat “freaked out” at AYG over the holiday for what I like to call dropping the “L-Bomb” too much) for over a year. So, where does this leave Bry? …well, let me tell you. This leaves me in Passive Aggressive Land, occupied by people that I wish I could tell to bugger off, but instead I smile and accept their blatant rude/inconsiderate/selfish/cruel behaviour. Okay, well it’s not THAT bad, but I need to vent sometimes and it’s hard to do that when you really have no one to "morally" subject “the vent” on. Make sense? No? Whatever…anyways, what I’m trying to say is that in my head I have a lot of things that I would “like” to say to people, that I think they DO deserve, but in reality it all comes out as…hmm…well, fake smiles and even more pent up frustration.

Take my conversation with Steve last night. Oh, to preface this I’ll give you a quick re-cap of what happened between us. We met at his Halloween Party (Me: the ballerina in the red tutu ---Him: a member of the Canadian Olympic team). So, in a span of approximately 3 weeks we went on 3 dates. On the third date he said, and I quote, “let’s keep this casual because I don’t want my heart to get broken”. Err…okay buddy. WHAT. E. VER!! So, I said, “okay, but just so you know, I will be dating other people.” Which, I did. (I went on my first date with Mr.P three days after that “conversation”). So about two weeks later he calls and leaves a message that I do not return because I was enjoying my time with Mr. P and just wanted this guy to “bugger off” and get the point. I thought he did, until a month later when he called again. I wanted to end it, but I did not want to be the one to call him back and decided that I would explain the situation to him if he called again. So, here’s the conversation we had yesterday (almost verbatim).

Me: Hello?
Steve: Hi, can I speak to Bryanna?
Me: Oh hey, Steve. How’s it going?
Steve: Good, what are you up to?
Me: Uh, I just got home. What about you?
Steve: I see. I just wanted to invite you to my place for a roast beef dinner with my roommates.
Me: Err, uh, I actually already have plans…sorry.
Steve: Oh, that’s okay. I called you on Sunday and left a message with your roommate…
Me: err… really?
Steve: Yeah, I guess you didn’t get it.
Me: Yeah, I guess so.
Steve: Well, do you want to hang out this weekend?
Me: umm, actually my friend is coming to visit this weekend…
Steve: oh, well next week then?
Me: …right, okay, well, I gotta go Steve. Enjoy the roast beef.
Steve: For sure. Bye.
Me: Bye.

Okay, when I decided to answer the phone that was definitely NOT how I intended the conversation to go. This is what would have transpired, If I had some b*lls…

Me: Hello?
Steve: Hi, can I speak to Bryanna?
Me: Oh hey, Steve. How’s it going?
Steve: Good. What are you up to?
Me: uh, I just got home. What about you?
Steve: I see. I just wanted to invite you to my place for a roast beef dinner with my roommates.
Me: Err, uh, I actually already have plans…sorry.
Steve: Oh, that’s okay. I called you on Sunday and left a message with your roommate…
Me: err… really?
Steve: Yeah, I guess you didn’t get it.
Me: Yeah, I guess so.
Steve: Well, do you want to hang out this weekend?
Me: Actually Steve, I don’t think I’m up for “casual dating” anymore.
Steve: Oh, uh, well let’s just see how it goes.
Me: Well, actually, I’m dating someone else and I’m really happy with him...I really did not mean to hurt you, but you knew that I wanted more than a casual relationship.


Okay, so you get the idea. Anyways, I promise I’ll end this the next time he calls. Really…or I could just lead him to my Blog…a ha ha ha…kidding. Wish me luck…and send some aggressive “truth vibes” my way.

Wednesday, January 12, 2005

Just one of those days

I was feeling pretty good when I left my basement suite this morning. My hair was behaving, I fit into my hand-me-down pants from my sister (she bought them recently, but realized they were a little too short for her...yeah, I'm a shorty)without having to suck in too hard, and my pink ballerina inspired shoes matched my blouse...oh, and I got a seat on the bus (this usually means a "good-day" in Bryanna Land). However, it all went to hell, meaning my hair, my confidence in my outfit and my inflated "these pants fit" ego when I stepped off the bus. Within a matter of seconds my perfectly diffused mass of curls were transformed into something that can only be described as flat frizziness (yes, this is, indeed, possible) by what can only be described as a gust of wind sent by the "Angel-Of-Bad-Hair-Day" himself.

*Sigh* ... I guess it's just one of those days. When you wish you could go home, watch soaps and drink hot-chocolate in a big baggy sweatshirt and pajama pants. But, I guess I have to work-for-the-money (and I really do love money). There's only 3 more hours left in my day...but it seems so long when my new flannel Mickey Mouse P.J.'s are calling my name.

Oh, and I've noticed that I've become just like "day old bread" to my most loyal readers. Nevertheless, I hope everyone's hair day is better than mine...although, flat frizziness is hard to contend with.

This is Bry saying keep your eyes open for devilish gusts of wind and that sometimes ballerina shoes should only be worn by ballerinas..or at least someone taller than 5'2".

Tuesday, January 11, 2005


Dancing in my cubicle

I really love my new Black Eyed Peas cd! I've been listening to it in my new cubicle (with the use headphones of course) and have resisted the temptation, thus far, to unleash my hip-hop moves (Bryanna Fact: I took hip-hip lessons for two years in high school, pretty hard-core, no? Even participated in the year end recitals, yikes, those were ugly, unflattering costumes!) ...Anyways, I have resorted to some groovy head-bobbing. Dorky? Certainly. But it's the Peas! I gotta move something ...

Monday, January 10, 2005

Try this one on for size!

This is going to be a quasi rant. What? Me? Rant? Never...uh, right. So for those of you "not in the know", there is a new very popular book out on bookstore shelves with the title He's Just Not that Into You. Because all of you are capable of deductive reasoning I will not give you an in depth description of it's subject matter. It is simply a book, authored by a man and a woman, that gives women advice about men. What they want, what they think and, of course, how to tell when he's just not that into you. Okay, so I'll admit, when I first saw this book I was intrigued. "Wow", I thought, "what a neat idea". I looked through the pages and the advice it gave was pretty accurate...I even considered buying it. Then I realized. Uh, why would I NEED this book? When I say this, I don't mean to imply that a man has never not been that into me ( does my double negative make sense?) Trust me. What I'm saying is that I KNOW WHEN A MAN IS NOT THAT INTO ME. Seriously. I don't need someone to tell me the signs...he doesn't call you yeah..there's a sign. It's not brain surgery people. Men are NOT that complicated. If they don't want to be with you, they don't call you. And I've never been a girl to humiliate myself by ignoring the signs. When I thought about this "not into you" concept a little more, I realized that men, yes I said men, could use a book like this. You know, SHE's Just Not That Into You. I think I'm just the right person to write it... here's a preview (in He's Just Not That Into You format --- question & answer) ...

Question #1: I met this great girl one night at a pub. She and I chatted for about an hour, when her friend said that they were going I asked for her number and she gave it to me. I called her a couple days later and we went out for coffee. I thought the date went well, but when I called her the next day, she did not return my phone call. I called her again and left a message with her roommate and still no reply. What gives?


Dear Andy,
She's just not that into you, champ. Seriously. If she wanted to see you again she would have returned your phone call, pronto. Women wait for men they like to phone them. Trust me, if she liked you, she would have been asking her roommate for any sort of message coming her way. I'm betting she had her roommate screen her calls for her since your date. Sorry....time to move on. Stop calling her.

Question #2: I worked with this girl for a couple of months in the summer. We talked a lot at work, but didn't interact outside of the office. When she quit her job, I tracked down her new number through her sister. When I phoned the first time, I left a message, but she did not return it. In the past five months I have left six messages and have called about 60 times. Why is she never home?


Dear Carlos,
Woah buddy...she's two phone calls away from filing a restraining order against you. Let me get this straight, you've been calling her for five months and have made about 60 phone calls...?? Umm... this is NOT a coincidence. Let me repeat. NOT A COINCIDENCE!! She obviously has caller ID and is probably looking over her shoulder every time she walks home now...I don't think I have to really say it, but she's just not that into you....freak.

Question #3: About a month ago I was dating this girl who I could tell was really into me. On our third date a told her that I wanted it to be casual. I called her two weeks after and she didn't return my phone call. I waited about a month and have been leaving messages on her voice mail and with her roommates, but I still haven't heard from her. What's going on?


Dear Steve,

Maybe a month ago this girl was into you, but obviously she wants something more than this "casual" something you're offering her. What? Did you expect her to wait around for you to call? Like she has nothing better to do than to daydream about you and cry herself to sleep because you haven't called her in over a month. From what I can tell, she's moved on. You should too ... and smarten up, you should never wait two weeks to call a woman back, casual or not!

Okay, so my responses may be a little harsh, but I'm dealing with a "Steve" right now, so you'll have to excuse my cynicism for the time being. Oh, and just in case you were wondering, yes, these are ALL from experience.

Sunday, January 09, 2005

This smells familiar...

So, I'm writing this in Buchanan at UBC... Ack! Gasp! The horror! And, of course, I chose the comp with the space bar that sticks...Ack! Gasp! The horror! It's actually really annoying, so this will probably be short (I have to press really, really, hard...grr...). Well, I really don't have much to say. What did I do this weekend? Hmmm...on Friday I had dinner (spaghetti with moose meat) at a friend of DD's Ex. Myself, along with Lexi, DD, and Ms. McKenzie crashed the men's ritual Friday boy's night. It was fun and the spaghetti was great. We ended up going to a pub after that where I met up with Mr.P. He got to meet the rest of my friends and I witnessed what it would have been like to have an older brother when DD's Ex started to question me about him. You know, like "what does he do? what are his intentions? how many kids does he want?" Anyways, I got my older brother's approval after he met Mr.P. *this is where I let out a huge sigh of relief*.

Saturday was extremely relaxed. I kicked Mr.P's butt in a "friendly" snow ball fight...I think he's still crying over it. Went to a great place on Granville called Paul's Omlettery (or something close to that) with Mr. P and his #1 side kick. After that, it's all a blur...besides my run (read:walk) before dinner in the snow. In Vancouver, unlike other places, people still run in the snow. Evidently, snow does not mean a 4 month hiatus from your regular exercise routine...who knew?

On my way back home, I witnessed the cutest dog in the world, who obviously had limited experience with snow. He was so happy and excited, with his tongue hanging out and his body covered in snow. He kept running up to me and jumping up and down and then would run away when I tried to pet him. Dogs like that make me miss Otis, which is weird because the little runt always hated the snow and cold weather.

Today, I woke up early to go to DD's for brunch. On my way to Kinko's, to get my work term report bound, I stopped and bought the Black Eyed Peas'new cd and the Bridget Jones, that I'm separated from my fish bowl friends I'll need something to listen to to keep me going.

So, here I am. At UBC because I had to drop off my work term report at the Arts Co-op office. When I entered Buchanan, this really strange feeling came over me. It was probably from the familiar smell, but I felt really anxious. You're probably thinking that I hate school, but I really don't, honestly, I actually enjoy it. However, i'm sure Freud would have a lot to say about my physical reaction today...whatever.

Okay, so this was long and painful and lame. It's turned into one of those, "I did this and this and that posts" and I hate those type of blogs. Sorry. I promise to vamp it up next time. I think this sticky space bar is draining my creativity one missed space at a time. Uggh! Enough.

Friday, January 07, 2005

Moving Day!!

Yes, I'm moving out of the fish bowl into the big hamster cage today.

I'm really gonna miss my fellow fish bowl co-habitors ... we had some great times together. But, all good things must come to an end ... *sigh*. Look out cubicle town! Here I come.

I thought that I missed university ...

... when a "sociology" buddy of me informed me that the Feminist Studies prof. had called my name the first day of classes. For a few seconds, I felt empty, lost, and utterly wishing that I could have said "Here" in response. This lasted for only a few seconds until I remembered something that made me rejoice in knowing that I would not have to grace the halls of UBC with my presence for another eight months. This story is entitled, "The Worst Day of Bryanna's Short Lived Life . . ."

It was a Monday. It was raining. And I had just received a Stats mid-term back that left many percentages to be desired. I was already feeling "low" and wished that I could just go home, but I only had one more class left in the day, so I did up my jacket, opened my umbrella and made my way through the rain to my next class. Almost five inches of the bottom of my jeans were soaked by the time I reached my next class and when I got there, I received yet another horrible grade back. This time it was for an essay that I had stressed over and pondered for weeks about. It was at this point that I questioned why I was even there. Why was I continuing to torture myself and pay for it? When the class was over I made my way to the bus stop. The rain beating on my face reminded me that I had forgotten my umbrella in my last class. When I went to go retrieve it, it was gone. By the time I made it to the bus stop my jacket was completely drenched. I wanted to go straight home, but decided to stop by the supermarket to pick up some groceries. The magnitude of this horrible day hit me while I was a few yards from my suite's entrance. I remember telling myself to keep it together until I was safely inside and away from the oppresive rain. I reached into my bag to get my keys...I rummaged...I set my groceries down and rummaged more thoroughly. Then, the utterly horrible truth hit me. I was locked out my house! On this day, the day that all I wanted to do was curl up into a fetal position and wish the whole world away. I stopped myself from crying and made my way to my landlord's front door. Luckily, she was home and she let me in through her interior entrance. When I entered my suite, I set my groceries down. I was thankful that none of my roommates were home. I ran into my bedroom and did not try to contain my tears. I cried for a good half hour. Wallowing in my own self pity. Unaware that it, indeed, could be worse and too disheartened to even care. When I had no tears left, I went back into the kitchen and put all of my groceries away. I had a long, hot shower and by the time my roommates came home, any trace of my emotional breakdown was washed away.

This, may seem to many people like a pretty tame "worst day in the life", but I heard someone say a short while ago something along the lines of, there will always be someone in the world suffering more than you are at that moment, but it doesn't mean that your pain doesn't count. This has stuck in my head since the moment I heard it and since then I have never said to someone who's suffering "it could be worse" or "think of all the starving children in Africa".

Something Interesing

I think this quote is pretty cool and not to mention extremely accurate. Courtesy of Thebananatree, which I found through Bathroomreading (BTW thanks for the comment :)

Whenever there has been some point in a country or culture's history where they have interacted, whether commercially, colonially, or competitively, with a group of people physically unlike themselves, the green gene was shown. Unpredictable, inexplicable, and mystical. Green eyes are arguably one of the most mysterious and entrancing physical traits.

Hmm ... so which one of my ancestors "interacted" with someone "physically unlike themselves" ... I'm betting it happened on my mother's side of the family.

Thursday, January 06, 2005


If you really love me you will buy me this...

Now, who loves me? Huh? Huh?

I Finished My Report . . .

... so I decided to add this cute little fetus to my blog. I saw one on her blog and decided that I wanted one for myself ... weird, I know. Mine's cute, in a weird and twisted way. A fetus dressed as a fairy? Strange. I know ... ENJOY!

I adopted a cute lil' fairy fetus
from Fetusmart! Hooray fetus!


Stop Shaking It!

Wow! It's snowing today! When I look out my fish bowl and through the hamster cage window I'm oddly reminded of something as I witness the white flakes swirl up and down and around and up...? Err, is it normal for snow to float up? Anyways, it just dawned on me that it looks as though I'm stuck in a huge snow globe, that some snot-nosed kid won't stop shaking ... blow your nose dammit! And stop shaking it! Anyways, this is Vancouver, so it won't last ... but seriously, snow is suppose to float down right?

Wednesday, January 05, 2005

SSMMMAACKK!! You're it!

Yes! That's right! I caught you! Yes, YOU!! You people who lurk but do not comment ... now really, why so quiet?? The 340 hits on my site CAN'T be just from me and my mom, so drop me a line, I love you! I really do ... so if nothing else say "hi" or give me a **SSMMMAACKK** 'cause right now you're it. :P

Procrastination --- My Middle Name

So, it's 5:00 and I'm still at work! Why? Because I'm a dumb a*s and decided to procrastinate instead of writing my Co-op Work Term Report (Again!). Why does this always happen to me?? I had so many good intentions, I even wrote the introduction in October... but did I add anything to it since then? NO! So, here I am wearing a skirt, an uncomfortable sweater and a pair of knitted slippers that I luckily had stashed in my desk (don't ask why they were there in the first place ... long story). Okay, so here's the damage. This report is due on the 10th of January ... "that's not so bad", you may be thinking ... oh, but just wait I have not told you the full story. For some reason our "supervisor" has to sign a confidentiality release form, which translates to them having to read this stupid thing. Therefore, my due date is actually Friday morning ... you still may be thinking so what! Big deal! You've got two nights!! Well, it wouldn't be such a BIG DEAL if I had a computer with MS WORD on it, but alas I don't. So, you see. I'm stuck in the office. Eating left over food from my Taco night with Mr. P, when I really wanted to cook something great... *stomp, stomp* (like that DD?!). Okay, okay it's not THAT bad ... no, really. It isn't. I'm just not used to this whole working after work thing ... for the past 4 months my week day has ended at 4:30 ... then any sort of working, thinking, etc. was officially over. This stupid work term report is killing me and I'm already halfway done. Yeah, yeah... I know I'm a huge spoiled just give me some cheese and we'll call it a night.

Tuesday, January 04, 2005

How many resolutions can I break in one weekend?


Here is a quick re-cap of my New Year's weekend. . .

Friday: Purchase necessary provisions for New Year's Eve (Amaretto, Lime & Lemon Juice, Rum). Do some mix-drink testing when arrive home. Get somewhat tipsy and contemplate calling it a night at 8:00 p.m.
8:45 --- Drag my butt out of bed and treck to Lexi's house about 10 blocks away (with provisions in backpack). Pet cat that looks cute, which proceeds to scratch me. (Later Ben tells me a not-so-nice story about some crazy "cat fever" phenomenon ... so not a cool thing to tell a drunk girl with a cat scratch on her hand ... who also suffers from mild hypochondria). Drink and dance the night away with Lexi, Ben, Jerry, the Fabulous DD, Lexi's sister and some other people.

12:00 --- HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!! Hugs and kisses for everyone.
12:30 --- DD decides that it's time to catch a cab to see her EX.
12:45 --- DD and I in cab it to somewhere on 56th St ... still shocked that we actually managed to get a cab at that hour on New Year's Eve..err Day.
1:30 --- Arrive at Hungarian New Year's Eve Party. For my mother's sake I have left out what happened between the cab and when we actually found the Hungarian party.
2:30 --- Crashed on DD's EX's couch.
9:30 --- Woke up with a sore back and dry I-slept-with-my-contacts-in eyes.
1:00 --- Breakfast..err lunch at White Spot.
3:45 --- Watched The Aviator. It would have been better had I gotten a sufficient amount of sleep the night before. Oh, and it was 3 hours!! WTF??? I almost fell asleep 3 times!
9:00 --- Played "Scene It" and ate Chinese take out.
11:30 --- Passed out in my own sweet bed.

10:30 --- Woken up by Lexi's phone call.
12:00 --- Brunch at Lexi's with Jerry and DD.
1:30 --- Mr. P picks me up for a day of movie watching and take-out pizza.

1:00 --- All you can eat sushi at Shabusen with Mr. P and a friend of his.
4:00 --- Tackle the clothing bomb formerly known as my bedroom.
5:00 --- Contemplate taking a long walk or perhaps feeding the ducks.
5:05 --- Talk myself out of doing this and instead eat the left over curry chicken and couscous.
8:00 --- Clean the bathroom.
8:30 --- Attempt to read my new book.
8:45 --- Lights out.