tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79828772024-03-13T22:17:53.440-07:00Bryanna and the CityBryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comBlogger369125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-65404972327043386492014-05-10T01:36:00.003-07:002014-05-10T01:36:46.730-07:00My new, new, new Blog<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hiya! I live in Switzerland now and am writing all about it at <a href="http://www.boredhausfrau.com/">www.boredhausfrau.com</a>. <br />
xx Bry </div>
Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-34885351729561414782009-08-03T14:34:00.002-07:002009-08-03T14:37:30.337-07:00I moved to Londonand I've moved my writing over here: <a href="http://vodkaandchakakhan.wordpress.com/">Vodka and Chaka Khan</a><br /><br />Come in. Sit down. Have a drink.<br /><br />Cheers!<br /><br />xx BryBryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-49630848921977080882009-06-05T10:53:00.003-07:002009-06-05T11:06:45.258-07:00RiddleQ: What's better than getting your last pay cheque?<br /><br />A: Getting your last pay cheque plus an unexpected vacation pay-out. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Sweeeet</span>!<br /><br />Time to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">partay</span>! Or at least buy that overpriced wrap sweater/shirt from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Oqoqo</span>, thus completing my airplane/arriving in London outfit!Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-28948466691821802642009-06-04T12:22:00.003-07:002009-06-04T12:31:42.659-07:00But...it's "free"!When I arrive in London I'll be staying with my sister and her fiancé, but this little arrangement won't last forever and I'll have to find my own place. Just a second ago, I went onto Gumtree.com, just to check out some places and get an idea of monthly rental prices, and this is the first one I clicked on:<br /><br /><em>Rent free bed share for open-minded friendly, warm female. Tall white hot blooded caring man 36 is offering to share his very comfortable double bed in flat near Docklands everyday.</em><br /><em></em><br />Wow! The Rent is FREE! And <em>I'm</em> an "open-minded" female! And "warm"! And...wait...<em>what</em>?! It's a "<em>bedshare</em>"?<br /><br />Huh?<br /><br />Ohhhh...<br /><br />Okay, <em>next!</em><br /><em></em><br />*full ad <a href="http://www.gumtree.com/london/21/39867821.html">here</a>Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-9683216696766308212009-06-04T10:13:00.002-07:002009-06-04T10:16:42.687-07:00Theme Song for June 2009<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2I5NrJr6tic&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2I5NrJr6tic&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-89837550984199334692009-05-29T13:43:00.002-07:002009-05-29T13:46:32.172-07:00Warning: This post contains penises & boobies!Last weekend I celebrated the gorgeous weather by spending Saturday and Sunday at the beach. Saturday was spent at Wreck. I always have a hard time focusing on my reading material when I’m there. Perhaps this has something to do with the penises? Or the boobies?! Nonetheless, I couldn’t make it through one page of Madam Bovary the entire 4 hours I was there.<br /><br />Sunday I went to Jericho. And wouldn’t you know it, the people I was meeting chose a beach log right next to a volleyball net where one of my exes was smoking the weed (as per usual when we were together, even though he always whined about being broke, brokety, broke, broke) and hitting some balls (volleyballs, that is). I always imagined running into him after he unceremoniously went MIA with my favorite pair of earrings three years ago. I practiced what I would say. Imagined how I would look. In my fantasies, I always looked amazing, naturally. But I never bumped into him again. Until then…<br /><br />When I spotted his pasty, scrawny body, just a few meters away from where I was sitting, I was like, “oh, hey, there’s J*el..hmm..okay, so, who wants get my back with lotion?”. <br /><br />And that was that.<br /><br />I just wish it didn’t take 3 years to feel so ambivalent.Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-19120306243689760222009-05-27T23:37:00.000-07:002009-05-28T11:50:14.282-07:00Just call me Bridget JonesI know this makes me sound like a huge spazz, but I’m planning on packing my scale. And, before you get all “Bryanna, that’s <em>f*cked</em>!” on me, let me try to explain.<br /><br />Growing up I was never what you would classify as “skinny”, I did go through a chubby phase, but, in general, my body type was what you might call <em>average</em>. Not skinny, not fat, just average. This isn’t to say that I never <em>desired</em> to be thinner, <em>I’m a girl</em>, of course I did (and do), but my weight was not a big issue growing up. I played sports, my mom cooked healthy dinners and my dad packed me a healthy lunch. I even avoided the dreaded “Freshman 15” when I made the transition from high school to university.<br /><br />However, I wasn’t so lucky when I made the transition from university to the work force. I gained 20 lbs. <em>Very quickly</em>. I was in denial for the first few months, but when I finally weighed myself, I couldn’t deny it any longer.<br /><br />I was <strong>fat</strong>.<br /><br />To make a long, hard, desperate story short, it took me 1 year, 1 very stressful job, and 2 very unhealthy months of disordered eating to finally lose the weight (25 lbs total). Since then, I have gained 5 lbs, but for over a year, I’ve maintained myself at a “healthy for me” weight. I attribute this to the fact that I keep track of my weight, not daily, but at least once a week. If I’m up one week, I tailor my diet the next week, perhaps cutting out those candies I pilfer from the candy bowl at work. Nothing drastic. It’s simple and it works for me.<br /><br />One of my fears about moving to London is how the change in lifestyle will affect my body. I will be drinking more and probably moving less. I don’t want to be fat again. It’s a horrible feeling. Both physically and emotionally.<br /><br />So there you have it. My scale is coming with me. Of course, I could just buy a scale there, but I prefer my weight in pounds not stones.Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-66127477762416332902009-05-26T17:57:00.000-07:002009-05-27T13:12:08.205-07:00London CallingWhen I first started thinking about the idea of moving to London, I was extremely unhappy. My return from my travels in Asia back in February of 2008 was quickly followed by 2 months of depression. I wouldn’t say it was severe, but it was one of the lowest times in my life. I could hardly get through a morning, day, or night without crying. I was very good at hiding it. Bathroom breaks at work turned into crying breaks and, at night, I mastered the silent sob. I felt completely lost, disconnected, and, to put it plainly, sad. <br /><br />After my relationship with Sean ended last summer, I decided that running away to London was a fantastic way to move on. Of course, I didn’t have the funds to immediately do so. I figured it would take me a few months to get enough money together to ship out, but my increased cost of living now that I was on my own and my new addiction to SHOES! & SKIRTS! & TOPS! left very little at the end of the month for my “Running Away to London Savings Account”. I kept pushing it back and pushing back, until one evening a few months ago. I was walking along 4th avenue in Kitsilano when I looked up and saw the most beautiful full moon that I had ever seen. The contrast of the turquoise sky gave it a yellowish tone and I literally gasped with delight upon seeing it. It was in that moment that I realized that I needed to make a plan. I rushed home and crunched the numbers. I decided that two more months would be enough. And the next day I filled out a passport renewal form.<br /><br />***<br /><br />Three weeks ago I realized that I was happy.<br /><br />The depression from last spring had long since subsided, and for the first time, in a long time, I was fully aware of my happiness. I felt it in the sun. I felt it in the anonymous faces passing me along the street. I felt it in the cool breeze whipping my hair against my face. I felt it in my heart. I realized that I was no longer running away to London in search of happiness or in an attempt to escape my sadness.<br /><br />I am happy.<br /><br />And, now, I’m excited too!Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-43044084822791625792009-05-24T11:59:00.003-07:002009-05-25T12:20:13.508-07:00I'm moving!To London, England!<br /><br />I fly out June 24th. Return date: unknown. My work visa expires June 2011, but I will be back for a quick visit next summer for my sister's wedding in Vancouver. She got engaged last week and we're all very happy & excited for her.<br /><br />If your first reaction is to inform me that the cost of living is extremely high, please don't. I am fully aware and it's an annoying & unnecessary buzz kill. Especially from people who have neither lived in the UK nor visted.<br /><br />I've been an obsessive list maker for the past couple of months. So far, luckily, preparations for the big move have gone smoothly. I even have an offshore UK bank account set up with money in it.<br /><br />The only snag has been trying to transfer my cell phone contract and avoid the $400 cancellation fee. I figure it's just another cost of moving, but it's still extremely annoying dishing out that kind of cash when I could be using it for much more important things....like a weekend in Paris.<br /><br />More details later!<br /><br />P.S. I may also start a new blog.Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-3769202872737152872009-04-29T09:37:00.004-07:002009-04-29T09:53:22.802-07:00Is this a headache? Or is my hair done up too tightly?I'm a mild <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">hypochondriac</span>. So when I found out yesterday that someone I was hanging out with last night hung out with someone in Mexico who was recently diagnosed with Swine Flu, I started to get a little scared. And when I woke up in the middle of the night feeling like a might puke, I got a little more scared. And after sneezing 5 times this morning, I self diagnosed myself with Swine Flu. Yes, people, I have <em>the</em> Swine Flu.<br /><br />Well, actually, no. No, I guess I <em>technically</em> don't have Swine Flu, but if this person who I was hanging out with last night, who hung out with someone in Mexico who was recently diagnosed with Swine Flu, <em>gets</em> Swine Flu...<strong>I could be next</strong>!<br /><br />This would be horrible timing since I have a week's holiday coming up and would rather be going to cafes drinking overpriced coffee and people watching and reading at the beach instead of shitting and puking and being bed ridden and having a flu that is usually associated with, well, <em>pigs</em>.<br /><br />I'll let you know how it goes.Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-7893190668927502172009-04-24T10:28:00.002-07:002009-04-24T10:42:15.801-07:00Full-time AwesomeThanks for the positive feedback guys! I just want to clarify that I wasn't actually offended about my Mom's statement. If your Mom can't say that sort of thing, who can?<br /><br />Also, I peak every time I leave my apartment building. I am, let's not forget, amazingly awesome.<br /><br />So, just to tease a little, I have started operation "Full-time Awesome". I had been waiting for one very important piece of the operation to arrive for weeks now, and when it finally did, yesterday at 1:00 in the afternoon, I got the ball rolling in a big, BIG way. I am trying very hard to repress my excitement, but it finally feels like it will be a reality..and soon! I can't wait! I'm still able to sleep at night and the oh-my-god-I-have-so-much-to-do-and-have-no-time-to-eat stage where I lose 5 lbs hasn't started yet. But I'm prepared this time.<br /><br />TGIF!Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-54998248830794590892009-04-22T12:23:00.004-07:002009-04-22T15:40:20.737-07:00Er, love ya too, Mom.This past Easter my Mom, my rock, my inspiration looked at me and said, “<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Bryanna</span> you have to figure out what you’re going to do with your life. You don’t’ want to be one of those people that peaked in high school.”<br /><br />Um, ouch?!<br /><br />She has a point. I do worry about this. I worry that I have no direction. I worry that I’ll wake up one morning and wonder where the years went. I worry that I’m searching for happiness instead of just being happy in the moment. I worry about what other people think when I say, “I’m a receptionist”, even though it’s not permanent. You see? I can’t even say it without adding a disclaimer. I worry about money, even when I have it. However, I don’t think it’s a completely fair statement, this “peaking in high school” she talks about. You see, I kicked ass in high school. No, I took the ass of high school and kicked it so hard that it still needs an inflatable donut to sit down and, even then, it winces and curses my name. I played sports. I volunteered. I was involved in clubs and councils and groups. I got straight A’s and was Co- Valedictorian. I also had a part-time job and partied and hung out with boys and partook in a little underage drinking and perhaps some other “controlled” substances. Oh, and did I mention the Governor General’s medal? Yeah, so I’m kind of at a disadvantage here. I mean, if I’m not the valedictorian at my job or in my relationships does that mean that I’m not successful? Does that mean that my life now is less valuable, less important, less…meaningful? Does that really mean that my life is headed on a steady decline? At the age of 26?<br /><br />And what about the people that sucked in high school? Those who just softly caressed the ass of high school? Can it really be that by just “not sucking” post high school they’re doing any better than me in life?<br /><br />And what do we classify as success anyways? Is success directly proportional to the amount of student loan debt one incurs over the years? The more zeros, the more one is, supposedly, educated? Or is it the zeros in one’s bank account or one’s pay check that matter? Or perhaps it’s not even a numbers game, it’s one of letters? How many letters do you have after your name? Only 2? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Hmm</span>…guess you peaked in high school sweetie.<br /><br />The tricky thing is that success is subjective. Everyone has his or her own idea about what success really is and consequently they judge others by this personal yard stick. For some people it’s money, for others it’s a family, and for some it’s about experience. For most, I hope, it has something to do with happiness, but, I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">wouldn</span>’t want to subject my own biases onto you and assume this.<br /><br />I may not be where I hope to be in 5 years, but who really is? We change. We grow. We constantly move forward. And that’s what I’m doing.<br /><br />I just can’t really write about it…yet.Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-46355806805769305442009-04-21T12:15:00.004-07:002009-04-21T12:31:24.076-07:00TOOT...toot, toot!Hey, so this is my blog and I'll toot my own horn if I want to!<br /><br />While I was eating my amazingly tasty homemade spinach, turkey, feta, & cottage cheese <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">quesadilla</span> that I finished, oh 2 minutes ago, I had one of those, "I'm <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">freakin</span>' awesome (!!!)" moments. Actually, maybe the word was amazing? Anyways, it was one of those a-words.<br /><br />I'm amazingly awesome.<br /><br />Speaking of amazingly awesome a-things, it's Alayne's birthday today. Happy Birthday, Sister from the same Mister! xx<br /><br />K, thanks for checking in!<br /><br /><em><span style="font-size:78%;">Toot-toot!</span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:78%;">Beep-beep!</span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></em>Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-24999874067623566302009-04-14T08:41:00.002-07:002009-04-14T08:45:02.638-07:00Same guy, same street corner, same question...a whole new kind of creepySo, I saw the "coffee guy" again this morning. From the directions the unsuspecting woman was giving him, it was obvious that he had asked her the exact same question.<br /><br />Is this guy a creep or a genius?<br /><br />I'm leaning towards creep. A <em>very</em> persistent creep.Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-62893380984742001002009-04-09T08:54:00.002-07:002009-04-09T09:41:53.090-07:00In the past week I've seen two people walking around Vancouver with surgical face masks on. It makes me wonder, either they know something we don't know, or people in Vancouver are getting very paranoid/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">germaphobic</span>.<br /><br />Hm...<br /><br />Also, organic almonds are much more expensive (almost 3x more) than ordinary ones. I bought some in the bulk foods section at Safeway the other day and for a second I felt an impulse to write down the non-organic bin #. I did not and ended up paying over ten dollars for a weeks worth of snacking almonds. They don't taste any better than the non-organic ones, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">FYI</span>.<br /><br />Since writing about getting a new hair style for 2009, I have not gotten my hair cut or highlighted. It is at the long and unruly stage again. I also have a year's worth of roots. That's like, 6 inches. I am only mildly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">concerned</span> about this, as I have other more important things to spend my money on these days...like organic almonds.<br /><br />I am heading to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Kamloops</span> for the Easter long weekend tonight on the Greyhound. I wonder how long people will continue to warn me about sitting at the front of the bus to avoid being decapitated?<br /><br />It took me a few minutes to think of the term decapitated. I thought it started with the letter "c". My thought process went like this: "capacitated"... no..."capitated"... no..."capapitated"... no..."what the f*ck is this word?" I figured it out eventually.<br /><br />Moving along...<br /><br />I think my dental <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">hygienist</span> thinks that I'm bulimic. Apparently, my teeth show signs of frequent puking. I haven't thrown up since last summer when I drank three gin martinis. I puked up green olives. I haven't had a gin martini since.<br /><br />Speaking of puke, the cute little neighborhood cat is back. She puked up green grass on my carpet the other day and ever since I've been hesitant about letting her back in. I mean, if I wanted to clean up cat puke, I'd have a cat of my own. Right? Right. She is super cute though, minus the puking incident.<br /><br />"Discretionary" holidays are annoying. Either give us the day off, or make us come in. I don't want to feel like a slacker if I take it off and I also don't want to feel like a martyr if I come in. Hmm...yes, annoying.<br /><br />I need to get out of my cell phone contract. Out of the many, many things that I need to do in the next 8 weeks, this is the one that is giving me the most anxiety. I'll let you know how Bell vs. Bryanna goes.<br /><br />Writing short random things about nothing is much easier than writing something with any substance.Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-33862938800087623822009-04-06T11:02:00.006-07:002009-04-06T12:04:19.107-07:00On my two block walk to work this morning I was approached by a young-ish man. He wanted to know where he could go for coffee in the area that wasn't a McBlenzbucks. I pointed him towards Wicked two blocks North and some places further up Granville. And then he was like, "hey, would <em>you</em> like to go for coffee with me sometime? I mean, you probably have a boyfriend..."<br /><br />I smiled. Thanked him. Declined. And went on my way.<br /><br />---<br /><br />The weather has been blissfully wonderful these past few days. It's amazing how the sun can invigorate the body. I've missed it and hope that it decides to stick around for a while.<br /><br />Things are good here. <em>Really</em> good. Great even!<br /><br />Hopefully I'll be able to write about the good and the great soon. Give me 6 weeks or so.Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-88869287072883090532009-03-23T12:57:00.003-07:002009-03-23T13:21:35.850-07:00Just RunI went for a run yesterday afternoon. I was tired, hungover and dehydrated. A run seemed like a logical cure for all of these things. I blame this sudden burst of energy on the mild weather and the fact that the sun was making an appearance for the first time in what seemed like weeks. However, once I started, I didn't want to stop. I ran to Science World and continued along the sea wall, dodging children on bikes and dogs on leashes. I passed under three bridges: <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Cambie</span>, Granville, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Burrard</span>. I told myself that I would stop once I made it to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Burrard</span> Street, but once I was there I wanted to keep going. So that's what I did. All the way the Stanley Park. When my feet started to ache I decided to turn back. I spent a few minutes on the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Burrard</span> Street Bridge watching the sail boats in the bay and the white caps of the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">North Shore</span> mountains. Taking it all in. Committing it all to memory. And then I made my way home.<br /><br />My body is reprimanding me this morning for the impromptu 15km run, but it was definitely worth it. <br /><br />Happy Spring!Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-58744751423147284472009-03-08T18:30:00.000-07:002009-03-09T13:48:47.789-07:001 Year AgoTomorrow is my 1 year anniversary at my current job.<br /><br />The only other job that I've been at longer is my first ever job at the law office. I was there for just under 3 years.<br /><br />I've had many, many, <em>many</em> jobs. Which have ranged from 1 day to 8 month contracts. There's something that I find refreshing about starting a new job, and, to be honest, I'm shocked that I've stayed here this long.<br /><br />I'm baking cookies tonight to celebrate with my co-workers tomorrow.<br /><br />It's only fitting as the office "Bake-off Champion" for 2008.Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-49793365811380416422009-03-06T13:24:00.014-08:002009-03-06T13:55:43.555-08:00I've been wanting to get my hair did...I've spent hours on <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.hairmixer.com">hairmixer.com </a>trying to pick out a "new do" for 2009...<br /><br />What do you think?<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IFYwYmEPd7Q/SbGbE6_uJ-I/AAAAAAAAAFI/H9yvdwpWC4w/s1600-h/xpmf-24-80-224-123-491243.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310195944504829922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IFYwYmEPd7Q/SbGbE6_uJ-I/AAAAAAAAAFI/H9yvdwpWC4w/s200/xpmf-24-80-224-123-491243.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IFYwYmEPd7Q/SbGa9QELa9I/AAAAAAAAAFA/vuyfSIbdJpQ/s1600-h/xpmf-24-80-224-123-787412.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310195812721716178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IFYwYmEPd7Q/SbGa9QELa9I/AAAAAAAAAFA/vuyfSIbdJpQ/s200/xpmf-24-80-224-123-787412.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IFYwYmEPd7Q/SbGa4a8qc9I/AAAAAAAAAE4/SvkZCrQ_F7A/s1600-h/xpmf-24-80-224-123-460344.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310195729743639506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 143px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IFYwYmEPd7Q/SbGa4a8qc9I/AAAAAAAAAE4/SvkZCrQ_F7A/s200/xpmf-24-80-224-123-460344.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IFYwYmEPd7Q/SbGazELObaI/AAAAAAAAAEw/ZWMt9byTCmo/s1600-h/xpmf-24-80-224-123-877497.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310195637731356066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IFYwYmEPd7Q/SbGazELObaI/AAAAAAAAAEw/ZWMt9byTCmo/s200/xpmf-24-80-224-123-877497.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IFYwYmEPd7Q/SbGavJ3kIVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/7ZYawGkURq0/s1600-h/xpmf-24-80-224-123-837753.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310195570540028242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 148px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IFYwYmEPd7Q/SbGavJ3kIVI/AAAAAAAAAEo/7ZYawGkURq0/s200/xpmf-24-80-224-123-837753.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IFYwYmEPd7Q/SbGargLJtnI/AAAAAAAAAEg/O6lrsiP0mCM/s1600-h/xpmf-24-80-224-123-858715.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310195507808286322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 184px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IFYwYmEPd7Q/SbGargLJtnI/AAAAAAAAAEg/O6lrsiP0mCM/s200/xpmf-24-80-224-123-858715.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IFYwYmEPd7Q/SbGaf0uZyTI/AAAAAAAAAEY/HNaxMSd_lwg/s1600-h/xpmf-24-80-224-123-833757.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310195307166419250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IFYwYmEPd7Q/SbGaf0uZyTI/AAAAAAAAAEY/HNaxMSd_lwg/s200/xpmf-24-80-224-123-833757.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IFYwYmEPd7Q/SbGab9CCmhI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/lwpOi3xVmrs/s1600-h/xpmf-24-80-224-123-850553.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310195240676792850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 167px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IFYwYmEPd7Q/SbGab9CCmhI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/lwpOi3xVmrs/s200/xpmf-24-80-224-123-850553.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IFYwYmEPd7Q/SbGaW74GvRI/AAAAAAAAAEI/hNi9rlbr-xA/s1600-h/xpmf-24-80-224-123-748711.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310195154467339538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IFYwYmEPd7Q/SbGaW74GvRI/AAAAAAAAAEI/hNi9rlbr-xA/s200/xpmf-24-80-224-123-748711.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IFYwYmEPd7Q/SbGaK-wzD7I/AAAAAAAAAD4/RIsycx_KBxQ/s1600-h/xpmf-24-80-224-123-486338.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310194949083566002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IFYwYmEPd7Q/SbGaK-wzD7I/AAAAAAAAAD4/RIsycx_KBxQ/s200/xpmf-24-80-224-123-486338.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-70192319947869515822009-03-06T10:52:00.002-08:002009-03-06T10:55:36.778-08:00Stranger DangerWhen I was young, my parents gave my sisters and I a code word that was to be used if ever someone we didn’t know, or in some cases did know, wanted us to go somewhere with him/her alone.<br /><br />We were told to keep this word a secret. The only non-family member that I told was my best friend T. And she told me hers too. I remember both.<br /><br />It was never used. And even though I’m almost 26, I’m not going to tell you it.<br /><br />Because, from now on, any boy who wants to pick me up will have to give me the code word first.<br /><br />Which they can get from my Mom.Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-45799346154294621652009-03-05T12:44:00.002-08:002009-03-05T12:55:32.228-08:00Keeping my sense of humour...just barely<em>"[I will] stop forming romantic attachments to any of the following: alcoholics, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">workoholics</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">sexaholics</span>, commitment-phobics, peeping toms, megalomaniacs, emotional <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">fuckwits</span>, or perverts." </em><br /><br />I've decided to be single.<br /><br /><em>Completely</em> single.<br /><br />No more dates. No more phone calls. No more <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">texting</span>. No more emails. No more <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Facebook</span> instant messaging. <em>Nothing</em>.<br /><br />Why?<br /><br />See that quote up there taken from Bridget <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Jones's</span> Diary? Well, in the past three months I've dated them all. I can't confirm the peeping tom, but it wouldn't shock me if all or at least one of them fit the bill.<br /><br />They're all <em>freaks</em>, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Internet</span>.<br /><br />And I have bigger fish to fry.Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-51837985966899188622009-01-20T17:00:00.002-08:002009-01-20T17:03:27.883-08:00The Crying CouchI affectionately refer to my hand-me-down reclining couch as the “crying couch”. It’s seen many tears, tissues, and “woe is me” moments. Since moving out on my own I’ve become more in touch with my emotions, or rather I now have the privacy that I’ve craved to express them freely. I dance like I’ve never danced before, laugh out loud when I think of something funny, and cry without the worry of having to explain my tears. Because, to be honest, sometimes they have no explanation, they just arrive. And when they do, I sit on the crying couch -roll of toilet paper in hand- and let them fall. Without holding back, without explanation, without an audience.<br /><br />The past few months have been an interesting adventure. There have been ups and there have been deep, dark, down moments. I keep a journal next to the crying couch and when my eyes have nothing left to shed, I pick it up and write. Or sometimes I just doodle. It helps.<br /><br />Being single these past 6 months has been both fantastic and frightening. Exciting and ridiculously frustrating. The same can be said for entering the dating scene all over again. <br /><br />Again. <br /><br />Ugh.<br /><br />But in case this post seems heavy on the melancholy, don’t fret. There is much more laughter, dancing, excitement, and anticipation of the future than crying couch episodes.<br /><br />Trust me.<br /><br />I’ll tell you about my "dancing kitchen" next time.Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-76361788945421419602008-09-30T12:07:00.002-07:002008-09-30T12:10:19.300-07:00So it's like this.I don't feel like I can write freely on this blog anymore. Not that I ever really could, it's just become so hard to think of things to write when I'm trying to spare feelings and keep certain relationships intact. In case you didn't know, it's not all happy revelations, sunshine, and puppies over here. Plus, there are things I really shouldn't write about yet because it conflicts with certain commitments and may cause a lot of problems for me if this particular news got out. So I've basically <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">censored</span> myself into silence. It's easier that way, if a little boring for you. This is such a laughably cryptic post, but I thought I should just tell you this in case the 3 of you who still come here are expecting to find something new. I'm not hanging up the towel completely, but you'll just be hearing crickets at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">BATC</span> for a while. My apologies.Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-36571731275390360802008-08-01T10:56:00.002-07:002008-08-01T11:19:51.331-07:001 Eye OpenSo...I'm taking the Greyhound to Kamloops tonight. Due to <a href="http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20080731.wdeath01/BNStory/National/home">this</a>, I'm going to make sure to sit near the front of the bus and there will be no sleeping. Yup, no sleeping AT ALL.Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7982877.post-44675520837659030132008-07-31T13:15:00.001-07:002008-07-31T13:17:32.598-07:00Happy 1 Month baby!It's been 1 month since moving into my new apartment. During this time I have learned some new, and somewhat shocking, things about myself.<br /><br />1. I am a clean/neat person. I make my bed every morning. Do the dishes every night. Vacuum at least once a week. Hang my clothing up at the end of the day. And keep my laundry under control. This is the most shocking.<br /><br />2. When having only myself to feed, I can eat the same thing everyday as long as it's relatively quick and easy to make and, of course, tasty. For months, it's been yogurt and a latte for breakfast, and then almonds, baby carrots, an apple and banana and maybe some cheese throughout the day, with some sort of egg/tortilla/avocado/cheese concoction for dinner. I do mix it up a little, but this is my staple diet and I love it.<br /><br />3. I am designer-y. I am kicking myself for not having the foresight to take before pictures of the suite when my sister, Alayne, had possession. I love her, but her bones? They do not contain designer. With a little help from Ikea, I have transformed the little bat cave from an uninspired, but cute, caterpillar into a functional and chic-ish butterfly.<br /><br />4. I can tolerate 3 little spiders in my bathroom around my window sill. But anything over 5 and they get the vacuum. Over 5 and they are just as creepy as 1 big spider. I don't like spiders. [I vacuumed up 10 spiders on Tuesday night, and I know it's crazy, but there's a little part of me that feels like I am to blame for the rain we've been having this week.]<br /><br />5. I like to spend time doing my hair. This is not a new revelation, but without having someone around to "judge" my hair habits, they have blossomed...out of control.<br /><br />6. Wine...it don't last long 'round here.<br /><br />7. Chocolate...see above. <br /><br />8. I am alone a lot, but I am rarely lonely.<br /><br />9. I am a snooze-hitting addict.<br /><br />10. Even though I do not have internet or a computer, I still can't manage to get into bed before 11:00pm.Bryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16346075637375534067noreply@blogger.com