| Thank You |
[25 Jul 2008|04:48pm] |
I'm deeply thankful for all your kind words, and for all the phone calls and e-mails and comments. Please keep us in your thoughts as we process what is happening to us and look ahead to resolution.
Please be safe, William. We love you very much.
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| My Heart |
[25 Jul 2008|08:50am] |
William is missing. Brandy took off with him last night and nobody knows where she went.
Every cell in my body is crying.
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| Run Hula Run |
[24 Jul 2008|10:27am] |
On Monday, what with the stress and anxiety over Andy's crumbling common-law marriage, I went for a run. I ran and ran and ran, although admittedly so slowly that John (Richard? it's either John or Richard, for sure) walked alongside me, encouraging me to keep going and telling me funny stories while I huffed and puffed around the track. After I'd gone around ten times I took a break, thinking that I had just run 1000 meters (2/3 of a mile) and could use a drink. My previous record was 2.5 times around without stopping, so I was feeling pretty good about myself.
That's when I discovered that 10 times around is a mile.
I ran a fucking mile. And I wasn't even tired, I was just thirsty. The thought of what I had done nearly sent me to the ground. No way. I can't run a mile. It's too far. I'm only a beginning runner. I'm still very fat (haven't moved an OUNCE in 7 months, thank you) and too out of shape to run a mile. No, there must be a mistake. I can't run that far.
I did it again yesterday.
Ryan, a marathon runner from Wisconsin, jogged beside me, telling me about fishing in Alaska and his wedding and whatever else he could think of to fill the 17 minutes it took me to run one mile. He was so proud of me, so geeked that I'm doing a triathlon, so pumped up about my unbearably slow running. He advised me to add 1 or 2 laps each time, with 10 as a base, and see how long it takes me to get to 31.
Thirty one (sirty wa?) is the number of laps I will need to run during the triathlon.
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| Trying Not To Take It Personally |
[22 Jul 2008|04:16pm] |
We have a bathroom near my office on the 2nd floor that I use frequently, but I use the 1st floor bathroom for tasks of a delicate nature, if you know what I mean. Oh shut up, you have a pooping bathroom at work too, don't deny it. Everyone has a pooping bathroom. You don't poop on your own floor. It's just not done. It's impolite.
Anyway, the custodial staff recently put a toilet plunger in "my" stall in the 1st floor bathroom.
Tiffany and Stephanie will find this extremely funny, as will HulaMom. But I protest, as there is no real evidence of a causal relationship. It's totally correlative and not at all conclusive. Totally not my fault, it what I'm saying.
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| In Praise of Mommo |
[18 Jul 2008|02:33pm] |
HulaMom spent the week with family in northern Michigan; she grew up in the resort community of Harbor Springs. She hasn't been up there in several years, and I think it was good for her to go back. People are often surprised to discover that my mother was raised on a small family farm that didn't have indoor plumbing until she was thirteen and never had a bed all to herself.
"But rich people live in Harbor!" they say.
"Someone has to walk their dogs and mop their floors," I say.
When I called this morning she was looking at bicycles, which makes me super happy. I remember touring Mackinac Island on a bike with her, and we had a great time (remember, Mommo?). I think she'll really like biking if she can find a good one. I asked about her trip, and she sighed. She had fun up north with her sisters and brother, and there was a bit of sadness and nostalgia in her voice when she talked about it. She visited her brother Jim (JKL 2) at work and watched him shoe a horse. How many of us know what THAT looks like?
My grandparent's place was magical when I was a kid. The people AROUND us might remember differently, but in my mind there was never a shortage of things to do. We had plenty of people to play with, and it would not have been unusual to see ten adults and two kids outside playing hide and seek. I can still hear my grandmother laughing hysterically when Andy got us all to play hackysack in the front yard. We were always laughing - although if my grandpa laughed too hard he began to cough and choke. Summer was warm sand and red rhubarb, naming the pigs and braving the turkeys, sunburns and sandals and ice cream dripping down the backs of my fingers.
Summer was glorious. When I was in high school we stopped going as a family, Andy and I were less than fun to travel with, and Mom and Dad weren't in any mood to deal with us or each other. At some point Mommo and I started going by ourselves, it was our thing, a traditional voyage that started in Royal Oak and ended in Harbor Springs. I was in charge of the map and Mom's only rules were no dirt roads or dueling banjos. Little did she know in less than ten years I would be driving her through the Appalachian mountains, where dirt roads and dueling banjos were born. Every year we have a Mother/Daughter adventure - this year it will be 40-Fest.
My current favorite summer top is one HulaMom made for me in 2003, back when I lived with Amy in that little apartment next to campus. I picked out the material and the fabric but didn't have the skills to get it done. Enter Mommo, who can do anything. She's one of those who claims not to be good at sewing, but she's so full of shit. It took several fittings (during which I complained like a spoiled brat) but she did it, and I wore it occasionally, but it only barely fit, despite Mom's attempt to make it a bit bigger than the pattern.
It fits really well now, and even billows a bit in the breeze. I'm so proud to wear it, because when people say, "That's a gorgeous shirt!" I get to say, "My mother made it for me!"
Love you, Mommo.
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| Ever Since I Was A Lower Case B |
[16 Jul 2008|03:38pm] |
I'm not a particularly graceful or elegant person. I also don't tend to be very stylish or brave when it comes to fashion. Think less Jackie O, more Rosie O. But my current position as a member of the Axis of Cute demands I step it up, be a little more thoughtful about my professional appearance.
It's 97F here today (36C if you're metric, holla!) so I wore a dress. Dresses are SO EASY, I don't know why more girls don't wear them. It's one piece, toss it over your head and you're all done. EASY. I didn't wear them before because my body shape meant that nothing fit properly and I looked like I was pregnant or wearing a sack. In fact, I should have just worn a barrel with straps. Or maybe an apple costume.
This morning I heard, "Ninety-seven by mid-afternoon," and grabbed the dress. It's been a good choice, and I've gotten lots of compliments. However, as I got out of the lab truck I managed to moon the parking lot when my dress got caught on the door. Hello lace underpants. Score. Then the tips of the tieback went in the toilet during a pee. I washed them and doused them with alcohol so it's fine, but still, THE TOILET y'all. It's a good thing I'm so fucking adorable.
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| Pawnee |
[15 Jul 2008|02:12pm] |
Summer and I hiked the Pawnee Buttes a couple weeks ago. I only took a liter of water with me, but needed at least three. Badness. I was so dehydrated. When we got home I chugged two bottles of Gatorade, another liter of water and took a nap before I felt even a little bit better. Dehydrating in the desert? That totally counts as extreme hiking. Don't worry, I bought a large water bladder for my backpack, so it won't happen again. Unless I'm stupid and forget to drink.
It was gorgeous, despite one of us wilting in the heat like a delicate flower.
100 million years ago (give or take some) there was a large inland sea that covered central and southern North America. The continent was moving northwest, and the ancestral Rocky Mountains pushed further upwards. This was not unusual, considering that our continent has been under water or glaciers several times in the last 1100 million years. But it was important because the end of the Cretaceous Period (65 mya) marked the most famous mass extinction in history, when 70% of marine animals and any terrestrial animal over 45 lbs perished. When the glaciers advanced 63 million years later, they didn't make it to the Great Plains, leaving this area susceptible to massive post-glacial erosion.
And that's how this happens.
Then we had to drive through a herd of cattle to get home!
More pictures in my flickr set.
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| Salt Water Taffy |
[10 Jul 2008|11:20am] |
I left work early yesterday and took Amy to Estes Park. We hiked around in Rocky Mountain National Park before chowing down an elk (me) and buffalo buffalo (her) burger and walking around the shops downtown. Amy forgot her shoes at the house, so she hiked for four hours in her sandals! Silly.
We bought one of those giant caramel apples home with us, coated in chocolate and pecans. I keep forgetting I can't taste chocolate. Hopefully the caramel and the pecans will be strong enough to prevent me from thinking my delicious granny smith is coated in tasteless wax. I've tried mint chocolate (refreshing wax), Cuervo chocolate from Mexico (drunk wax), and dark chocolate with almonds (crunchy wax). Dang.
The boss is back from Russia and apparently in a mood. I supposed I'd better go talk her into giving me the gun before she shoots anyone.
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| Open Until 11pm |
[09 Jul 2008|09:34am] |
Last night Amy and I headed to Coyote Ridge for an evening hike, where I almost stepped on a western rattlesnake.
image from www.daveshowalter.com
I did exactly the WRONG thing, which was to scream and jump behind Amy, who was also screaming. After that we practiced what to do if we heard a snake (because let's face it, they're hard to see!) which is to stop and back away slowly. We didn't encounter any more, so we didn't get to see if we would actually do the right thing or just scream again.
Amy didn't realize they would be so loud. I had forgotten about the hissing. We were too busy panicking to get a picture. Ah well.
Today we're headed into the mountains. Hopefully it doesn't rain!
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| All Kinds of Fun |
[08 Jul 2008|01:17pm] |
Wouldn't you know I've managed to misplace my camera AGAIN. I think I know where it is. Shh! Don't let on, or it will spring out of its hiding place, then sprint for the front porch yelling, "Olly olly oxen free!" and I'll NEVER get it back.
"Olly olly oxen free!" was the answer to a Trivial Pursuit question that Amy got wrong last night. She very nearly won, but I got an unbearably easy question about the Three Stooges and took the game.
Despite the lack of photographic evidence, we've been having a lot of fun. Or at least, I have. I think Amy's having fun. Last night a dude from the bike shop cut my bike free from the railing (he only asked for a six-pack as payment) and offered Amy a vintage touring bike to ride around on while she's here. She's out on it now, armed with bug spray, sun screen, and a couple of bike maps. She'll meet the Fed Ex guy at 3pm to sign for her luggage, so hooray for her things finally getting here! After that she'll pedal back over here and we'll head to the brewery for beer-tasting.
Tonight we'll make Jamaican tempeh tacos and hike Coyote Ridge. Perhaps in that order, perhaps not.
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| Amy! But Dammit! |
[07 Jul 2008|03:30pm] |
Poor Amy got stuck in a blizzard (then her plane was hit by lightening!) but finally made it to Denver late Saturday night. Without her luggage.
"Bugga!" as she would say. But she's HERE! She came to visit me! All the way from the bottom of the world (almost)!
We got her some underpants, pajamas, a tank top, shorts and an itsy bitsy teeny weeny bright blue polka dot bikini - why not? - at Wal-Mart to tide her over until they bring her bags. When are saying WHEN because it's more positive than IF and Amy doesn't want to think about spending a month overseas without her things.
Yesterday she slept in and then we had a picnic up in Poudre Canyon along the river. It was lovely but we were eventually chased out by the mosquitoes. In the meantime, I managed to PERMANENTLY lock my bike to the porch by losing the effing key. I've got to find some bolt cutters and get it off. DAMN!
Amy gave a seminar this morning at Ye Olde Mountainous University and now she gets to play! I'm working all week, though, so she's a bit bound by my schedule. And speaking of, I'd better get back to it or I'll have to explain why I forced her to sit around while I BLOGGED.
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| Dude's Crampin' My Style |
[05 Jul 2008|05:25pm] |
So there's this guy, at work, that I asked out once before because I thought he liked me but he turned me down. Oh well, other fishes and so forth. But lately he's been behaving strangely, all mopey and attentive. Then he seemed upset when I told him that I would hopefully not be here next summer.
Him: What?
Me: Yeah man, splitsville.
Him: That's too bad. I thought you were here for a while.
Me: Nope, I didn't even plan on being here THIS long. I need to get back to my people.
Him: Well, I mean, I'm disappointed, that's all. I didn't know you were going to leave.
Me: I'm a limited time offer, so if you're going to ask me out, you'd better do it soon. Clock's ticking.
And then I waited for him to ask me out. And he didn't say anything. Are you shitting me? You don't leave a girl HANGING like that! Even if you DON'T want to go out with me, you ask me out and then after we have an awkward first date, you never call me again. THAT'S WHAT YOU DO.
Me: Well then, see you around!
In my head I added, "DOUCHE-FACE," to the end of that sentence. Am I really so bad at reading guys that I've completely missed this TWICE? Guys aren't usually that hard to read, they either like you or they don't, and it's all over their faces, like toddlers and spaghetti. Granted, they can typically be talked into just about anything (evolutionarily speaking, it benefits male H. sapiens to be easy), but when they're actually interested, you can tell.
At least I thought I could. It's never backfired this bad on me before. And I WORK with this dude, so I see him in the hallway all the time, and I think to myself, "Does NOT like me," which is insane, because I'm adorable.
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| Oh Blessed Thursday, Penultimate Day |
[03 Jul 2008|10:21am] |
Nobody is surprised by this, least of all anyone who has ever spoken to my mother or grandmother. Also, I can hear my southern friends hooting and hollering because they always teased me about being from Canada.
| What American accent do you have? Your Result: North Central "North Central" is what professional linguists call the Minnesota accent. If you saw "Fargo" you probably didn't think the characters sounded very out of the ordinary. Outsiders probably mistake you for a Canadian a lot. | | The West | | | The Midland | | | Boston | | | The Inland North | | | The South | | | Philadelphia | | | The Northeast | | What American accent do you have?
Quiz Created on GoToQuiz |
( And speaking of ladies who grow up in Northern Michigan without indoor plumbing, )
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| Still Happy! |
[02 Jul 2008|11:11am] |
My apartment usually stays cool all summer, but last night I was hot hot hot. I tossed and turned between Oscar and the fan until I finally fell asleep, but I woke up stuffy. I can't sleep with a fan on my face. I should have made Oscar switch sides with me, but then the fan blows fur on me! I have an air conditioner but I rarely use it because it sucks up so much energy and makes me too cold.
Regardless, I'm still cute and happy, proving once again that a programmable Mr. Coffee can change the world, one cranky bitch at a time.
I've been eating lots and lots of salad this week, because my CSA box is stuffed with it each Saturday morning. Lettuce was one of the only plants that I successfully GREW this season. I didn't really need MORE. But here it is: Red leaf, green leaf, butter lettuce, red butter lettuce, romaine... Birdy and I shoved bags of it back and forth between each other, "No, you have it... no, you take it... no, I don't mind, really, you can have it... no, you should take it..."
I know what to do with too much spinach or cilantro or mint or rhubarb. But lettuce? What does one do with all that lettuce? I allowed the lettuce in my garden go to seed, which means it will come up again next year. Someone needs to loan me a rabbit.
And speaking of gardens, my zucchini is in a terrible state. Something is delicately removing all the flower heads from my plants, but leaving the leaves and stems and everything ELSE in the beds alone. For this reason I've ruled out bugs or rabbits or deer, and the squirrels are so well fed on birdseed I never see them in the gardens. That leaves one suspect, with a criminal record that includes terrorizing tulips, pinching pansies, robbing roses and grazing grasses...
  
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| Exhibit B(reana) |
[01 Jul 2008|01:47pm] |
More proof of my obnoxiously cheerful mood today! Seriously, I'm starting to get on people's nerves.
I've got double chin in this picture, but I don't care, look how cute and happy I am! I was addressing envelopes to send to the IRS. Neither my state or federal 2006 taxes were processed, and after a lengthy round of procrastination, I finally called to find out why. They never got them! I've had more trouble with Ye Olde Mountain post office, which is odd, because they're all so darn friendly and helpful! So off they go again. Hopefully they make it this time!
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| Chippy the Cheerful Chipmunk |
[01 Jul 2008|11:27am] |
This is what I wake up to every single day of my life, when I'm not traveling or entertaining a guest.
Not a bad way to start the day for sure, but neither of us are morning people, so there's often a lot of grumbling, a lot of sighing, and a lot of hitting the snooze for ten more minutes of blissful sleep.
I'm in a stupid good mood this morning. I'm not entirely sure how that happened. I overslept and woke up with a potential migraine. I took two Excedrin with a cup of coffee and contemplated working from home, but regardless, I still had to hit the tax office in the county courthouse to renew my car tags. I showered, dressed, combed my hair, and clipped on my sparkly old lady earrings - Mommo and I found them at a flea market many years ago and they are fabulous. Neka and I ate breakfast with Diane Sawyer while Oscar tore around the house like a Triple Crown contender. Not sure what that was all about. I chugged another cup of coffee and hit the road on my bicycle.
That is where I think it may have happened.
Dappled summer sunshine in my face plus 24 oz of fair trade coffee multiplied by modest exercise equals, "Who gave that woman happy pills?" There was no room at the bike racks to park, so I rolled my cruiser through a patch of flowers and locked it to a light pole.
Tap tap tap tap went my Italian leather flats on the marble tile of the courthouse. Swish swish swish went my skirt against my legs. I walked up to the woman at the desk, "Good morning, I need to renew my registration and would like a number, please." Blink blink blink went the woman who gets yelled at by strangers all day.
"Wow, I wish everyone was as nice as you." My number was 122. They were on 425. I was confused, but not agitated. I struck up a conversation with the other people in the lobby. When they called my number I zipped over to the desk and handed the woman my registration, insurance information, driver's license and a check for $55. She gave me my tags and we had a good laugh about the postal carrier who apparently lost my renewal form and forced me to go to the courthouse in the first place.
On my way out I stopped at the Citizen Information Center to ask what I could do about the undesirable element living in a motor home across the street. I got referral numbers for several government agencies who may be able to help mediate the relocation of the Maury Povich Who's My Baby's Daddy? Special Guests that have become my neighbors. I unlocked my bike from the pole, rolled back through the pansies and pedaled to work, where I've been chirping cheerfully at people all morning.
Go figure!
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| A Weekend Wedding |
[30 Jun 2008|09:18am] |
The best things about Brian and Tracy's wedding this weekend:
1. The Bike Parade - Brian (sporting a "tuxedo front" t-shirt) led the parade of costumed wedding guests on his decorated tandem bike, with the couple's dog in the trailer - Tracy would join him for the ride home. The 7-mile trail to the wedding site crossed the river several times, and was just gorgeous. I was dressed as a pirate cowgirl. We all changed into proper wedding attire once we arrived at the site.
2. The Venue - A historic stone house in a little town at the mouth of Rist Canyon, previously owned by the founder of the town. Think stunning view of the canyon, wildflowers, sunset, twinkly lights, and the sound of the river running past. I don't think it could have been more beautiful.
3. The Bridesman - There were twelve in the bridal party, all dressed casually in sun dresses or striped shirts, and Tracy had a man amongst her bridesmaids. Two little boys (children of friends) carried the rings on bicycle seats instead of pillows, and were a bit reluctant to walk the aisle until Brian squatted down and opened his arms - then they ran right to him. Mattie the labradoodle followed them with a basket of flowers strapped to her back, tipping this way and that and she trotted, dropping rose petals collected from a nearby farm.
4. Participation Points - The community was heavily involved in the wedding. Three friends played bluegrass accompaniment. Another friend made the wedding cake (a giant sheet cake with a chocolate tandem bicycle on top). Still others donated mason jars filled with native wildflowers for centerpieces. Guests were asked to give the couple in marriage (we gave a resounding "WE DO!" with whooping and hollering) and then we passed the rings (both wedding rings were handed from one guest to another, and they silently blessed them, prayed over them, or in my case kissed them for luck). And the end we cheered, collected our folding chairs and took them to the tables, free to sit wherever we wanted. I chose the owners of the CSA where Tracy and Brian have a working share.
5. The Pig Roast - an amazing spread of local meats and tofu (plus decidedly nonlocal but delicious smoked mussels and shrimps) with spinach salad, orzo salad, barbeque beans and cornbread. There was a giant bottle of wine on each table, plus three kegs of local brew, and jugs of sweet tea and lemonade. All our disposable dinnerware was eco-friendly (100% biodegradable corn or sugar cane byproducts), so everything went in the compost or recycling bins. No waste!
Apparently Brian was the main force behind most of the planning, which is unusual for a groom but he did such a good job others joked that they wanted to hire him to plan THEIR weddings! At the end of the evening the couple hopped on the tandem and rode off under a shower of rose petals from the CSA. Guest followed shortly thereafter, although Nicole forgot to bring lights so she and I shared mine, which are great for in town but not bright enough for dark, winding trails. After missing the trail several times ("I don't remember riding through ALFALFA, Breana!") and nearly ending up in the river, we met up with a large group of riders with better lights, and we hauled ass to keep up with them. Not an easy feet on a heavy, single speed cruiser.
But we made it, and in celebration of not dying on the way back, Nicole and I biked downtown for a beer and some people watching. I got in a fight with two guys within the first five minutes - no worries, I won. We also saw a girl with the WORST muffin-top ever, in a tight black tee that was too short and squeezed into tiny jeans that exposed the top inch of her butt crack. She was dancing with a group of girls who were OBVIOUSLY not her friends, because friends don't let friends go out in public like that. Nicole put it best, "Poor Muffin-Top, she's all alone in the world."
We were still in our wedding outfits, so we looked fabulous. My skirt was from Macy's, where I discovered earlier that day I no longer have to shop only in the Women's department. As I tried on skirts in the Misses fitting rooms, I kept thinking, "This is impossible. This is a fluke. I can't be trying on clothing in this department." But I can, my friends. I can.
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| Favorites and Favourites |
[27 Jun 2008|10:30am] |
Does everybody else do this sixteen times before deciding which shoes to wear that day?
 
This is not what I'm wearing today anyway. I'm wearing that skirt, but with a striped tee and black sandals. It's Friday, after all. Fridays are way casual, even in our office. Birdy's wearing flip flops for goodness sake.
Last night I biked back from Amy's in the dark and got to do my most favorite thing ever - look in people's houses. The neighborhood between my house and Amy's apartment is a gradient of wealth, and it's absolutely FASCINATING to see what it looks like on the inside. I cycle past super slowly, taking it all in: wall color, furniture arrangement, artwork, layout... I'm an interior design junky. I've got no money and no style, but I just can't get enough.
I get annoyed when people are home, because that typically means the television is on, and a flickering television distorts the view. Plus, people have ENORMOUS televisions now, and it's not attractive. Bah. People should just leave all their lights on and go out for the evening. I'm sure most burglars would back me up on this.
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| Sisters For Life |
[26 Jun 2008|01:41pm] |
On the phone with Steph:
Breana: You could get a blog too, Tiffany did.
Steph: Tiffany has one?
Breana: Yep. When you go to mine, erase thehula in the web address and put in hellamama instead.
Steph: Hellamama?
Breana: It's slang, like, she's one Hell of a mom, hellamama*
Steph: Oh, I get it. Hellamama. I would be Mom-In-Hell.
Poor Steph. She's having a time of it just now. I'm starting to think David has a sensory disorder. He is mega-brutal, and way more the "daredevil" type than any other little boy in the family, and I can't really chalk it up to mortality play. All children his age test their boundaries, but this kid does it WITH HIS SKULL. He gets away with more than Alex does because he's snuggly and very MOM-centric, so Stephanie babies him. But he also just never LISTENS, and that old advice I always give after he's fallen face first into the granite countertops, "Well, he won't do THAT again," doesn't seem to apply. He ALWAYS does it again.
Short of time and a taser gun, I'm not sure what Steph can do with him. So she's got DangerKid, and Alex is at an age where he wants to be more independent, but is saddled with an annoying younger brother who doesn't respect his space or his things, which makes him act out against David. I think it will be better when Alex gets to go to school, but that's not helping right now. And she's doing it on her own, because she's not married to one of those guys who thinks taking care of kids is his job. Although I have to say, Steph's started putting her foot down and calling in for reinforcements more often, so I'm proud of her for that.
She'll get through it, Steph's very resourceful and flexible. She's just a bit exhausted right now.
*The urban dictionary says it means really, very, totally, or a lot of something.
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