Monday, December 27, 2010

Long Car Rides with the Family....

I have accidentally embarked on a voyage with a group of mad people that call themselves my family. We have barely packed up our bags and left my lovely Aunt’s house in Spokane (where we stayed for the holidays!) and already our car ride has been chop full of good times and family fun. What with my parents bickering for half an hour about the location of the freeway, the nationality of the nearby gas station’s owner, and everything else under the sun, our drive thus far has been jolly! Our international student is texting her boyfriend (as always) in the next seat, and I am just sitting here, playing the role of the perfect (and talented and good-looking) daughter, as is my duty. It is a demanding job, but I suppose somebody has to do it....


We are currently whizzing along the snowy countryside, my mom unconscious as always in the front and my dad zigzagging across lanes (without signaling, I might add) like he is crowned King of the Highway. Unfortunately, he is actually not, but when I pointed this out to him ever-so-politely, he only grunted and started lecturing me (as he so loves to do) about how he is wise and old and bearded and can do whatever he so desires. That’s what he likes to think.... I, however, believe he is secretly practicing his impersonation of a raving drunk to fulfill his lost childhood dreams of becoming a stunt driver. I suppose he can do what he pleases, though, as long as he doesn’t accidentally drive us off a cliff with all his fun and games.


Anyway, my dad has just turned around and suggested that I drive for awhile. I have told him in my politest voice that what he asks is impossible, as I have been paralyzed from scarlet fever since youth, but he is very mean and unsympathetic and is just rolling his eyes at me in exasperation. Honestly, some people can be so rude. We still have a good four hours of driving ahead of us, though, so odds are he will get his way sooner or later...


That is all I have to say for now. Driving long distances with the family is just so exciting, that I hardly know how to contain myself. If something monumental happens, I will surely post something new.


Cheers,


Brianna

Thursday, December 23, 2010

The Night Crowd

Today is one of those days where I feel like I've been eaten by a bear and then spit back up in a dazed and delirious sort of haze, with nothing but a headache and about a million teeth marks to show for it.

It's kind of gross. I am just sitting here at 5:03PM in a Starbucks (where else?), puzzling about why I am having my morning coffee in the dark, and also why it is already dark at 5:03PM, and why everyone sitting here looks so haggard and drained of life, and a lot of other totally relevant questions that I won't get into for the sake of avoiding a long(er) run-on sentence than the 6-line one I have unwittingly just stumbled upon. Anyway (back to what I was saying), I have accidentally slept through the entire day due to a gingerbread party gone mad, and I am now just emerging from my cave of festive, Christmas slumber to greet the day! Unfortunately, it has now dawned on me that the day is already over, and I am stuck out here at Starbucks in the gloomy grey evening with all the vampires and other dwellers of the night that I usually forget about in my upbeat mornings.

There is certainly a different vibe here from my usual 8:30AM crowd. Everyone is wearing black and looking particularly surly and upset... No one is talking... The music is all slow and moody... A couple of werewolves have transfigured in the corner and are howling at the moon... and here I am sitting in a half-dazed sort of manner wondering why it is nighttime and how I have gotten here and if I will be eaten by wolves when I try to walk back to my car... It is a different world than the one you encounter when you actually wake before nightfall.

Anyway, I am feeling a little bit out of place here without my black trench coat or haggard under-eye circles or desire to suck human blood, so I think I am going to end this blog post now and sneak off to my car before I am abducted by creatures of the night. Today (or... um.. tonight, actually...) has been an excellent reminder as to why I generally rise with the sun like the go-getter and cheery optimist that I am. The nighttime vibe here is a tad discouraging.

Good grief. I am going to dash on home now. If I never write again, it is probably because I have been eaten by bats.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Ohh no...

Well, we have truly done it.

This is the first year my mom and I have ever been entrusted to go to the Christmas tree farm by ourselves, and we have accidentally brought home a tree with severe scoliosis of the trunk. Apparently, we were not ready for the grave responsibility of tree-choosing... We have unwittingly selected one that shares a striking resemblance to the Hunch Back of Notre Dame -- hunched over in a withered sort of way that only someone who has spent their life stalking gypsies from a clock tower can be.

My dad just put it up last night, and my mom and I stood by as he hoisted the tree into place, very excited to prove ourselves as tree-picking champs. The tree was secured upright, the netting around it was cut and the branches pulled down, but as we stood back to admire our handiwork, suddenly the room became very uncomfortable, as we all shifted about uneasily....

The darn thing was practically sideways.

My dad turned silently to stare at me and my mom, his eyebrows raised so high that if he wasn't bald (hahahahaha... I joke), I'm sure they would have disappeared into his hair.

My mom and I grappled desperately for excuses:

"It didn't look sideways at the farm... Maybe our house is just slanted..."
"If you squint, it kind of looks like a sea snake!"
"We were just trying to be charitable. We bought the gimpy tree to voice our support of scoliosis patients everywhere!"
"Yeah... We thought it would be nice to show our concern for the arthritic of our nation..."

... Unfortunately, my dad was not reassured. He just stared at us, then back at the haggard, hunched over little tree, then back again at us, all the while furrowing his eyebrows in a disbelieving sort of way and opening and closing his mouth like a fish (who has also just seen a shockingly ugly christmas tree and doesn't know how to react). Finally, he seemed to get ahold of himself, and after a few minutes he walked off mumbling about how women should never be trusted to pick out decent trees or some nonsense like that...

In our gravest defense, I do think the tree looked a bit less sideways at the tree farm. Or perhaps it was just surrounded by even uglier trees, so when we brought it out to examine, we didn't notice.... Either way though, my mother and I have shamefully failed, and I can say with great certainty that we will NEVER be entrusted with such an important task again.

To make matters worse, my dad is out with our Christmas tree right now, power tool in hand, drilling holes into our sad and pathetic, little tree to try to make it look less bent... He is still mumbling (very rudely, I might add) about my and my mother's ignominious shortcomings with all things Christmas-tree related. I will sneak coal into his stocking this year, I swear. Anyway, if he thinks any number of new branches is going to hide the fact that our tree is a crippled hunchback, he is quite mistaken.

Deformed spine or not, our tree will stand proud, a monument for arthritic patients and sicklings everywhere.

Ho hum, it's really not that bad... Especially if you squint your eyes and tilt your head a bit.... Who says Christmas trees are supposed to be straight, anyway?


Just Another Awkward Story to Add to the Collection....

Hahahaha and also HAH.

I just had one of those really awkward and embarrassing moments today that awakened me (if by some strange means I had forgotten) to how nerdy and pathetic my life truly is.

Which is very nerdy AND pathetic.... Just to be clear.

Anyway, I was just out and about, innocently driving my car and acting like the totally normal person that I am when this whole ordeal took place... I can wholeheartedly assure you that I was neither disco dancing nor practicing the robot as I listened to my music alone, and I also wasn't trying to count the number of double chins I can make myself have (4!) in my rear view mirror. I am far too sophisticated and suave for shenanigans like that, so obviously, I was completely focused on my driving, not doing anything that could potentially embarrass me.

And that is why what happened next was completely uncalled for. As I pulled up to the stoplight, minding my own business (and definitely NOT flailing around a mad fool or pretending to be a robot with 4 chins), I casually glanced over to the car next to me...

And they were all staring. The whole lot of them. At ME.

And that is when I remembered that I am actually not suave OR sophisticated, and I was, as a matter of fact, acting like a robot..... a robot with 4 chins and a fervent passion for disco dancing. Is that so wrong?!? A girl should not have to worry about what she does in the privacy of her own car. I should be able to practice my Robot in peace, gosh darn it. But apparently the rest of the world doesn't see things that way.

Anyway, as soon as I noticed that my robot impression and mad dancing had an audience of about 6, I instantly stopped flailing and gripped my steering wheel and stared with all my might at the red light until it changed, trying to regain myself and pick up my shattered pieces of pride and dignity.

Sometimes I think I should really just stop walking into these embarrassing situations.... Unfortunately, my freakish nature is often too hard to control, and several minutes after the Red-Light Incident, I was back in my own little world, singing improvised show tunes to help pass the time...

It's moments like these that desperately make me wish I had tinted windows.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Sorry for Writing... I Couldn't Stop Myself

Hi.

I know I'm not supposed to be writing (because of my whole official leave of absence and all), but I've gotten tired of pretending to study and now need something else to do.

So here I am!

Anyway... Below I have listed 5 reasons why I should probably drop out of college.

1. I am sitting here blogging right now instead of working on my finals: the mark of someone who is destined to fail at just about EVERYTHING.

2. I have the attention span of a hamster.

3. Last time I checked, hamsters are not allowed to enroll in Universities.

4. Due to the fact that I am very talented and charming, I could probably make a generous living entering (and winning) beauty pageants instead of wasting my time getting an education.

5. I just had to fix the word "pageants" in number 4 with Spellcheck, because I didn't know how to spell it, an obvious sign that I am not intelligent enough for college.

----

Well, there you have it. In all honesty, I find it a bit unfair that my Professors expect so much from a human/hamster/LOSER hybrid like myself. I should be spending my time doing proper things like running in my exercise ball and eating sunflower seeds. It is very insensitive of them to ask otherwise.


Thursday, December 2, 2010

I'm Taking a Vacation.

Well, finals are drawing near, and with this horrific fact in light, I have decided to take an official leave of absence from the blogging world. I am indeed fighting a losing battle in the Society of all Things School-Related, so with this in mind, I am casting off my duties for the next few weeks, as I have other very painful and dull matters to attend to.

I plan to be like one of those pregnant women who takes an official leave from her office job to rear her young, only instead of birthing a child, I will spend the next few weeks mercilessly flogging my brain with a spiked whip, as I attempt to force information into my already jammed cranium. It is a sad little life that I live, but I suppose somebody has to do it. Anyway, with that said and done, I would also like to offer an official apology for my truly abysmal blogging habits these last few weeks. Of course I would like to spend all of my time writing to my dearest friends on the internet, but unfortunately, I have had very important matters to attend to. What with being a gold medal Olympian, an astronaut, and an affectionate owner of 23,000 dogs, I have found myself a tad on the busy side.

What I mean to say is that I'm feeling like a vegetarian who has inadvertently wandered into a slaughter house: very OVERWHELMED (and also a bit nauseous). Now don't ask me why a respectable vegetarian would be traipsing around in the food-processing district, or why the factory doesn't seem to have any security guards on the job, but I think that this realistic comparison applies directly to my life.

For I am a little vegetarian surrounded by skinned cow carcasses....

Only in this situation, I am a vegetarian who also likes to eat meat, and there actually aren't skinned cow carcasses, because that would be gross.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I will be back and writing again as soon as my tormented last few weeks of school have concluded, but for now, I am afraid I must bid you all farewell. I am off to the darkened caves of hopelessness and despondency to attack my studies...

Goodbye, my friends. Stay strong.
Remember to eat your vegetables and shower on a daily basis.
I hope that none of you have unexpectedly died before my return.

Cheers,
Brianna.



Thursday, November 25, 2010

A Very Cardboardy Thanksgiving.

Well, after a day of nagging and pestering, I have finally gotten my dad to hand over the cardboard box that his new TV set came in, thus providing me with hours and hours of entertainment! So many joyous possibilities await me with this newfound treasure... And let me tell you, my Thanksgiving this year has been AWESOME.

While the rest of my family sat out in the living room like fools today, huddled around our new big screen and watching football in a stupefied daze, I, on the other hand, was enjoying myself in my room, cutting cardboard like the fun-loving person that I am and having a blast! If I do say so myself (and I do), the only thing greater than a huge new TV, is the huge new CARDBOARD BOX that it comes in. It's beautiful really: nice and sleek, double-layered C-flute.... the stuff dreams are made of.

I have spent the majority of my day being exceptionally grateful for all things corrugated and made of board, and with the sheerly gargantuan size of this box, I should be set with all of my arts and crafts materials for just about the rest of my life.

Anyway, here is a lovely little cardboard collage that I made today that is now hanging on my wall. It is made entirely of cardboard, glue, and love.


So there you have it.

I can bet almost $10,000 that nobody else is putting their new TV boxes to such practical use. While billions of perfectly lovely boxes are being ousted to the curb, alone and dejected, the Ailie family's will hang proudly (in bits and pieces) on my wall forever.

I am feeling oh so resourceful today.



Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Celebrating the Holidays... with TV!

Well Seattle is currently buried under a solid 3 inches of SHEER JOY, and the Ailie family (particularly my father) has decided to celebrate the season by sneaking a brand new big screen television into the house! While most people are hiding out in their homes or making snowmen, my heroic father is braving the elements for the sake of a precious TV and a dream that he can watch football in HD come Thanksgiving. Never mind that the roads are solid ice, and cars are sliding around like a bunch of really subpar ice skaters who haven't yet learned how to stop without crashing; my father, brave but also kind of stupid, has eschewed safety with a firm hand, trudging his way to Best Buy to get his hands on a fresh, new TV set for the holidays. Forget family bonding or any antiquated notion of togetherness; we will be starting off our Thanksgiving with a heaping helping of HD TV!

My mom and I have been suspicious of my dad's sneaky intention for days now. You see, when my dad is planning on wasting money, he generally gets a guilty, squirmy sort of look about him, and it is only a matter of time before he sneaks something ridiculous into the house. He's done it before with other strange finds: an assortment of junky garage sale furniture, every record player in the city of Seattle, a collection of decorative lawn ducks, our pet birds... My dad has a compulsive addiction for buying things that no amount of therapy can ever hope to mend. Now don't get me wrong, he can go for a while without making any hasty investments, but sooner or later he will get that obsessive gleam in his eye, his instincts will kick in, and after a sneaky escape from the house under the pretense of "running errands," another superfluous item will be added to our overflowing collection. Yesterday in particular, the signs became evident, and my mother and I, already suspicious of my dad's behavior, began to fear the worst. My dad has been talking wistfully about a new television for a few weeks now, but yesterday, his need to take action became apparent. He spent the morning skulking around the house and staring with dissatisfaction at our dated TV screen, and by afternoon, he was looking for an excuse to take the car out alone.

Here is a word for word recount of a conversation my father and I had, shortly before his stealthy escape to Best Buy:

Dad: Well.... I'm going... out...
Me: Oh, where?
Dad: ..... just to um... run some.... errands..
Me: Oh, can I come?
Dad: NOOO!!!!!!! I mean... er.... no.
Me: Are you having an affair?
Dad: um. yes.

... and then he ran out the door, and that was the last I saw of him.

Several hours later, my dad came skulking back home with his tail in between his legs and a guilty (yet satisfied) look on his face. A few minutes later, I was ushered into the living room where I was confronted with an exuberantly happy father and a very LARGE addition to our household. It is massive and obscenely bulky and everything a man could ever dream of, and my dad is over the moon with contentment! I am actually sitting next to him right now; he is staring at the TV with a determined sort of gaze, reading manuals and connecting wires and occasionally furrowing his brow with the accompanying deep sigh....

Oh wait. I don't need to describe him; I'll just show you!! Here he is now -- all flustered and fiddling about with his 4 remote controls in a state of confusion... yeah, he's having the time of his life.


Lovely, isn't he?

Anyway, I am sure the TV will be assembled in no time, and my dad will spend the next three months or so sitting in front of his first love in a state of blissful serenity. But after a while, I can assure you the excitement will where off, the guilty look will rekindle in his eye, and I will wake up one morning to find a new vacuum cleaner or a few shelves of ceramic cats or maybe a life-size statue of Thomas Jefferson in the kitchen. The world will never know... But until that day comes, I suppose I am content with the really burly and MANLY television that my dad has chosen to bring home.

It is Thanksgiving after all, and what better way to celebrate than by zoning out your loved ones and shoveling turkey into your mouth in front of a big new TV?


Sunday, November 21, 2010

... Homework... what?

Well, it's Sunday evening right now, and I really should be doing my homework at the moment, but greater things have captured my attention. I believe it's very important to keep my priorities straight after all, and let's face it: some things are just so much more important than school.
This Thursday for instance, I shirked my responsibilities to instead fashion myself a large cardboard horcrux costume to wear to the Harry Potter premier. I may have gone a little overboard with the size, so that I couldn't properly fit through doorways or sit down, and I may have looked like a fool after my basilisk fang broke off, but all in all it was a raging success! And then of course I couldn't do my homework on Friday, because once again my priorities kicked in, and I decided to instead spend the entire day catching up on my beauty sleep. I can think of at least 7 hibernating grizzly bears (off the top of my head) that would gladly back me up on the importance of this endeavor, so I really feel no remorse or guilt over the issue. And then on Saturday, I couldn't do anything school-related, of course, because I was busy recovering from my previous day of slumber by drinking absurd amounts of coffee and watching french films... you know, things that really should be placed before an education.
And now today has come, and I find myself sitting here once again, thinking vaguely of getting out my drawing assignment but really having much more pressing matters to attend to. And what are those greater issues, you want to know...? I will give you a hint. It may have something to do with the fact that on this grand and monumental day, Seattle enjoyed its first SNOW of the year.

YES. SNOW.

It may have been just a few flakes, and sure, it all melted before it actually hit the ground, but WHO CARES REALLY?!??? I am like an overly excited first grader with severe ADD when it comes to all things snow-related. I may as well get my snow suit and sled out now, because I am confident that Seattle will soon be buried under at least 16 feet of white fluffy mounds. So obviously I shouldn't be spending time on frivolous things like homework, when there are greater snow preparations that call! Snow dancing rituals and a human sacrifice to the gods of weather (to ensure the perfect snow conditions) are of course the first activity on my list. Next, I need to get a head start on training my dog-sledding team; Taffy has heart disease, so I'll need to strengthen her endurance if I expect her to head up the pack for our annual 26 mile sledding extravaganza. And then of course, I'll need to start planning out the blueprints of my igloo mansion and sharpening my arctic seal-hunting harpoon (just in case this flurry of snow also brings a wave of arctic seals from the North... seal hunting is my favorite winter hobby, you know). So as you can see, I have A LOT to do in preparation for the oncoming blizzard, and homework has really lost its value.

Speaking of which, I have gotten up from my chair to peer out the window at least 4 times since I started writing this blog post.

Also speaking of which, I have donned my dad's ceremonial Christmas sweater in celebration of the occasion. When I asked to borrow it, all he said was "sure, but don't wear it out of the house, because you'll look like a complete fool in that old man sweater."

I trust he was joking, because I've already worn it out of the house TWICE.

On that happy note, I think it is time to conclude this blog post, as I am far too giddy and excited to carry a complete thought any more. I just checked Google weather, and there is a 78% chance of humidity, so I am fully expecting a heaping helping of SNOW tonight!

My life is so bright and cheery.

Unless of course, it doesn't snow... in which case I might have to drown myself in a bathtub of my own tears. We'll hope it doesn't come to that.


Friday, November 19, 2010

I Would Rather Be Sleeping.

Well shoot.

I just realized I haven't written anything in 9 days, so now I'm feeling kind of guilty and wishing that my life was more exciting, so I would have more remarkable things to talk about. Unfortunately, this is not the case. I'm just lying here alone in bed on a Friday night with a really large stack of saltines and some rice pudding I found in the fridge, larding my life away into oblivion.... I should probably be out with the rest of the world right now like a normal 19 year old girl, but alas I really just enjoy lying around by myself like a hermit crab in my spare time and doing positively NOTHING. These are the simpler joys of life.

I even tried to go to bed early tonight, but unfortunately my guilty conscience would not let me sleep, and my mind was too plagued by the shame of not writing in over a week to actually rest. So anyway, I'm just lying in bed right now in a sense of utter defeat, very angry and also upset that I'm not sleeping but instead writing this stupid blog post, because otherwise I will be driven to insanity. So there.

Okay, well I've actually just been sitting here for a good 15 minutes or so, and I really can't think of anything at all to tell the world. In addition, I've just finished my saltines and now have nothing else to distract me from the fact that I'd rather be sleeping right now, so I'm getting very bitter and upset, and I really just want to throw my computer away or kill one of my pets birds or purposefully put something recyclable in the trash can to lessen my frustration.

Anyway... I think that this (angry and embittered) blog post should be enough to appease my guilt and make me feel better about not writing, so I am going to go sleep now. Curse my ridiculously overactive conscience. On the bright side, I will probably never turn out to be a serial killer or anything like that, because people who feel too guilty to sleep for not updating their blogs for 9 days usually don't go around killing people in their spare time. Just a reassuring thought for the world, in case you were ever suspicious.

okay, well GOOD NIGHT now my little friends........ I will write again when I'm in a better mood and don't feel like smashing my computer against the wall. Um. Yeah.


Wednesday, November 10, 2010

More Wonderous Adventures.. from my Sickbed!

So I have had a great deal of free time over the past few days -- free time which I have spent wisely by entertaining myself from my sickbed with an array of internet surveys! I even pasted all of the surveys into a Word document, so today I can go back and look at all of my feverish and only partly-coherent answers from yesterday. Apparently, I took a 15 question quiz to find out whether I'm pregnant or not (I'm not) and a very tedious one directed to women with military spouses (I don't actually think most of the questions applied to me... the whole thing seemed a bit exclusive, to be honest). I also took one that was supposed to teach me Chinese in 3 minutes (yes, I am now 100% fluent!) and another one that told me what I smell like to Edward Cullen (which is apparently not so great). Anyway, below I have posted one that I took about my lacrosse team. Surprisingly enough, this was actually a very popular survey... I wasn't aware until now that there were so many die-hard lacrosse fans out there.....

Anyway, please enjoy! (Keep in mind that I was quite sick and dazed when I took this)

What's your team name?
Snow Panthers

What's your team's current record?
27-0

Are you an offender or a defender?
I like to play both actually. I offensively defend... like a champ.

What's your favorite position to play?
Usually the one that does the most running and stuff. Also the one that
gets to hit the most balls at people.

Do you like your coach?

He is very portly and has a bristled mustache. So yes, I would say so.


Why do you like lacrosse?

Lacrosse is my passion. My only other hobby besides lacrosse is bending

spoons with my mind, but I'm not very good at that.

How long have you been playing?

since the winter of '86


Who introduced you to lacrosse?

My friend Ron. We used to play together back when we were in the Navy


How many sticks do you have?

umm... I actually wasn't aware that lacrosse involved sticks.. but, uh,

yes... yes, I have sticks..


Do you own a lot of lacrosse clothing?

YES. IT'S ALL I WEAR ALL THE TIME.

How often do you find yourself paying?

Well that's actually kind of a difficult question.... I have about 14 hours

of lacrosse training a week, but then I also spend my weekends teaching

lacrosse to underprivileged street youth, and of course I head up the

National Lacrosse Fan Club for national fans of lacrosse, and sometimes

I play lacrosse by myself on my personal lacrosse field.


Is it your favorite sport?

Well DUHHH.


Do you find yourself adding a 'Y' to the end of all your teammates' names?

Um... not really.... I do sometimes add an 'X' though. I think it's catchy


Does your team have a chant?

YES. I can't really write it out though, because it can only be properly

expressed in song.


What's your favorite thing about lacrosse?

Winning. Obviously.


Do you have siblings who play?

I prefer to think of my team as my true siblings. We're connected by

something deeper than blood: our singular love of all things remotely

related to lacrosse!


What's your number?

I am always #1 and always have been all the time


Are you good at playing catch?

... does lacrosse involve catch?


How far can you throw?

About 8


What's the one thing you don't like about lacrosse?

I don't like it when my teammates are eaten by sea serpents

during the game.


Do you want to go professional?

No. I want to be a pet detective.


Are you going to be a lacrosse mom/dad?

Yes! My children will begin their training the moment they emerge from

the womb. I will raise them just the way my parents raised me: I will feed

them in exchange for 4 hours of lacrosse practice a day! They will love

lacrosse. They will love it, or they will die of malnutrition. The choice is

theirs.


Have you recruited any of your friends to your team?

I hope that EVERYONE who reads this will join my team!


Any other comments on lacrosse?

ohh, just that I LOOVE IT SO MUCH AND LACROSSE JUST

SO AWESOME


**********


And there you have it: my thoughts (in a sick and delirious daze) on

lacrosse. I hope everyone enjoyed this.


I think I am going to go sleep now.




Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Sick. That's all.

I have decided to take advantage of the fact that I am deathly ill and lying in a bed of heaping sickness and disease to write this friendly blog post! Yesterday, I was just beginning to show the signs of sickness: my throat was starting to hurt, I was intolerably cold, and one of my feet fell off. This morning, however, I woke up at 4AM to a great deal of coughing and spluttering and other pathetic symptoms that alerted me to the fact that I am indeed ILL.

So here I am, lying in bed like an elderly person who is also lying in bed, and thinking wistfully about my short life here on earth as I slowly await the clutches of death to take hold.... On the bright side, I have spent my morning eating LARGE sums of peanut butter toast (my favorite thing, besides coffee and crepes and cookies and about 10 other foods) and watching odd nordic folk tale movies that I found on Netflix. YEAH.

In addition, I have just taken enough painkiller to effectively sedate a killer whale, and I am forcing myself to get up out of bed to limp to my one class today like the true winner that I am. I like to compare myself to those heroic war veterans, hardened by their brutal experiences in enemy labor camps, who are still brave enough to face each morning with as much determination as an Olympian god.... I'm not entirely sure what that comparison has to do with me, but it sounds impressive, and I also am very impressive, so I think it works.

In light of this, I will persevere. I am bravely eschewing illness with a firm hand and am going to school to LEARN AND STUFF. Lying in bed is for weaklings. Pain killer is the stuff of champions.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Just a Friendly Update!

It has been about a week now since my last post, and I am sure that many of you are concerned by my absence. Indeed, there have been rumors circulating the web about my untimely demise, stories that I have been in the hospital recovering from a bear attack, and of course the occasional tale that I have finally taken the leap and dedicated myself to an entirely Amish life, free from the sinful materialism of the internet.

Swarms of concerned friends and fans have been bombarding my house these last few days, dropping off get-well-soon cards or assorted casseroles for my grieving family. I have even had a few ministers drop by, hoping to free me from my archaic Amish lifestyle -- but, unfortunately, all of these well-wishers are deceived. Although my blogging absence has undoubtedly caused many devote fans to assume the worst and enter into a period of grieving, I am writing this post to assure you all that I am not actually dead.

I am, however, Amish.

... Or wait... just kidding. What I meant to say is that I have contracted leprosy and have no hands, so typing is difficult. Also, I have a very large sum of homework.

This weekend for instance, I am supposed to be making a lamp. Yes, A LAMP. It is due tomorrow and I have many good hours of work ahead of me, and I may very well die tonight from a severe panic attack. It is so very possible. I am actually supposed to be cutting and glueing and lamping ( <-- it's a verb!) as we speak, but alas, here I am procrastinating away.... hmmmm mmmm... hmmmm.....

OK I WILL GO DO MY HOMEWORK NOW.

I deeply apologize for this very pathetic and boring blog post. I feel a lot like a performing circus alligator who has come down with an ear infection and is now putting on sub-par shows and disappointing thousands of paying customers. Not in the sense that I am an alligator or have an ear infection, but just that I am really writing about nothing right now and have probably bored many of my readers to within an inch of death.

Speaking of which, I really do feel guilty that everyone here had to read this post while probably getting nothing of value out of it, so below I have posted a link to a website I just found about the symptoms and causes of hyperthyroidism. It is my dearest hope that someone out there is reading this who unknowingly has hyperthyroidism and by clicking on this link, my post today will save their lives. That is what I hope.

http://www.endocrineweb.com/conditions/hyperthyroidism/hyperthyroidism-overactivity-thyroid-gland-0

Well, I am off to the world of lamps now... Peace be with you, friends.


Friday, October 29, 2010

Behold, My Future:

While sitting around the house this afternoon lovingly stroking my many dogs, I was overcome by a sudden and profound revelation. As I sat on the couch, innocently perusing the internet with my littlest (and fattest) dog on my lap, I stumbled across a site about the importance of spaying your cats (which is apparently very important).

However, as I do not have cats that need to be spayed, this is entirely irrelevant to my point.

What did attract my attention though, was the cheery picture of a little, old lady with her cat at the top of the page. My first reaction was to laugh -- but then, in an epiphany of horror, I looked down to the succulent, little creature on my lap and realized that this may very well be my future. But with DOGS.

Yes, it is the shocking truth.... as each day passes, I grow step by step closer to donning a fanny pack filled with dog biscuits and dressing my animals up in little sweaters to make up for the children I never had. I can already feel the effects sinking in... Last week, I let my dog sleep in the same bed as me. A few days ago, I had the sudden urge to leave my house with slippers on and curlers in my hair to take Sadie for a walk. Just today, I subconsciously found myself fighting off the desire to put my animals in a basket and take endearing Christmas photos of them to send to my extended family.

I am caught up in a losing battle, my friends. I feel that it is only a matter of time before children down the block are calling me the Crazy Dog Woman and throwing things through my windows... is that any way to treat an old lady? The world has never been fair to lonely elders like myself. Just because I like to crochet hats with ear holes for my dogs in the winter, and just because I show the neighbors my wallet-sized pet photos whenever they accidentally stumble into my garden, doesn't mean I'm an outcast. But alas... this is the life I'm destined to live...

Anyway, to illustrate the severity of my doomed fate to you, I have decided to post pictures of some charming old ladies with cats that I find to have a striking resemblance to myself. I believe these photos will prove to any non-believers that I am, as a matter of fact, truly heading down the Road of No Return.









I think these three (entirely candid) comparison pictures say quite accurately what a million words on the subject could not. I am doomed to die alone (probably smothered in my sleep with dog hair) at a premature age. With no husband or children, I will have no one but my 32 dogs to attend my funeral. On my grave, they will not be able to think of anything inspirational to write, so instead they will inscribe:

Here lies Brianna.
She didn't have many friends, but we think her dogs sort of liked her.
May God have mercy on her soul.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Buffalo buffalo buffalo.

Wow. I am constantly learning new and crazy things about the english language.... Just when I think I've seen it all, some very smart and grammatically savvy person comes along and blows my mind.

What am I talking about, you wonder...? LOOK AT THIS LINK AND BE AMAZED:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buffalo_buffalo_Buffalo_buffalo_buffalo_buffalo_Buffalo_buffalo

Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo.

... You see what I'm saying? It may seem like I'm just repeating the word "Buffalo" over and over again, but in reality I'm speaking in entirely cohesive and grammatically grounded sentences! Spectacular, isn't it? I've already inserted this sentence into my everyday conversations at lest 7 or 8 times since my discovery of the grammatical marvel last night. I think it blends quite easily into my casual dialect. Speaking of which, Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo. Oh yeah, and have I mentioned that Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo?

Because Buffalo buffalo do, as a matter of fact, buffalo Buffalo buffalo.

Remarkable.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

The Very Serious Matter of Bug-Repellent Socks.

This week, I have made a startling new discovery -- one that has truly revolutionized my quality of life and shifted my perspective of the world. Now I know that my blog posts are usually lighthearted and upbeat, but this is serious, so I hope that my audience can read this post with the greatest maturity and attention. This is not a laughing matter.

Now on to my pivotal testimony:

Due to an unfortunate backup in my laundry sequencing (possibly the result of me just not doing it...), I have been suffering from an atrocious clean-sock deficit the last few days. Now any habitual sock-wearer could tell you that this situation is grave and possibly life threatening... So in light of this, I found myself a few days ago pillaging through my dad's wool, hiking socks in desperation for something clean to wear. But though I wasn't expecting it at the time, what I found amidst these bundles of hiking gear was something greater than I ever could have imagined: insect-repellent, wool socks!

What's that you say? Socks that repel insects?

YES.

They say so on the tag. Now, I didn't even know that such an ingenious invention existed until several days ago, but these socks are truly the greatest discovery since the dawn of time. I have grown fonder of them in the past few days than I ever could have dreamed. They are warm... comfy... and most of all, they protect my feet from the unwelcome hoards of insects that generally target innocent city-dwellers. Now I don't know if it's just a crazy coincidence, but I will be the first to attest that my feet have not been bitten by a single insect since my discovery of the socks three days ago. Testimonies like this simply speak for themselves. No longer will I have to walk down the plagued streets of Seattle, warding off attacks from foot-eating locusts or scorpions; my feet are protected by a thick, wooly armor that not even the greatest of bugs can penetrate!

This foot-eating bug problem has, after all, been growing in my neighborhood for years now. What began as a few rogue attacks by tropical caterpillars that escaped from the zoo, has recently grown into a foot-preying epidemic that spans all of the greater Seattle insects and daily affects the lives of countless individuals. Some bites are more or less harmless (the CIA World Fact Book states that the average Seattle resident receives between 12 and 35 bug bites on their feet a day), but others are lethal -- producing skin discoloration, seizures, or in some cases, instantaneous death.

Every day, countless numbers of innocent people fall at the hands of foot-preying bugs... The sidewalks of Seattle are littered with dead bodies -- the skeletal (and footless) remains of victims who could not ward off the swarms of malicious foot-feeders before it was too late. I pray that their eyes may be opened to the world of insect-repellent socks and all of their wooly wonders. I stumbled upon this discovery because of an innocent backup in my laundry; what began as a desperate attempt to cover my feet developed into the greatest single discovery of my life.

We do not need to live in fear any longer, America. God has given us an answer to deliver us from the lethal foot bites of killer insects, and this answer is in the form of a sacred, bug-repellent sock.

There is hope for us, after all, my friends.