it's baaaaaack: a shoutout to kyle karmell

i know you'll all be glad to know that my crazy left-eye eyelash is back. it's grown a little longer since this photo was taken and has developed an interesting stretch-like quality. this time around it seems to weigh a bit more than previous lashes; i can't seem to curl it into an upright position and, therefore, it is continuously stuck to my bottom lashes. glad some things in life are reliable....like my eyelash.....and seattle not getting snow. ever.

explicit language

Dear Seattle,

Buy a fucking plow. And buy some fucking shovels while you're at it.

Sincerly,

Brianna

it's winter, but it's not quite a wonderland

thank god we moved out of wisconsin before the winter hit. thank god we chose a city where it never snows and, accordingly, when it does snow, the city shuts down. thank god.
(this picture was taken 3 inches before it stopped snowing.)

on to something i never thought i'd say - i miss wisconsin winters. here are a couple reasons:

+ businesses and homes are required to take care of the sidewalks in front of their property. people in seattle look at shovels like they might be new-age space travel machines.

+ wisconsin has more than one plow. and they use them.

+ seattle has yet to discover the magic that happens when you put salt (and dirt) on ice. i can't wait to see their reaction!

+ people here feel the same way about snow as they do acid falling from the sky; a walk up the block is a terrifying ordeal. these deadly white flakes have forced me to miss multiple nights off work - despite being more than willing to walk/drive there.

celebrity waiting #1

everyone at zoe likes to tell me all about the famous people that eat there. i think they are a) trying to intimidate me and b) brag. i would brag too - as i'm about to do......

we made eye contact and it was amazing.

i would consider this a B-list celebrity experience but i think it helped me prepare for further encounters (perhaps the likes of robin williams, dave matthews and bill gates? all who i've been told frequent the spot?). btw, catherine got to see the "real housewives of orange county" at lola last week. i'm quite jealous.

off the topic.
i have today and tomorrow off and i have nothing planned. nothing except the activity of watching joss watch me. she just charged my face because of the glare on my glasses. this is gonna be a great two days.

ain't no turkey like a west coast turkey

i'll start with some scenic photos as i don't think i've given enough attention to our magnificant view yet.

sunset over elliot bay (view from our deck). not the worst thing i've ever had to look at.

this is another view of elliot bay. the mountains in the back are the olympics. the picture does no justice as, on most days, the mountains appear much much much closer.

on to thanksgiving......

the weather was incredible!

i let jake own the 7-layer salad and he was quite proud. i'm not sure if he was feeling equally proud of the visor placement, but...

despite all contradictory opinion, i went ahead and brined the turkey the night before....after a couple beers. i think it really helped the turkey situation and was probably the easiest step of the

whole cooking situation.

jake said the turkey was delicious. i thought it tasted like every other turkey i'd ever eaten but the leftovers were gone by saturday, so i'll let the facts support themselves. sadly, all the "leftovers" were gone by saturday. needless to say, i've been upping my workout routine.

clockwise starting at the turkey:

pancetta sage turkey, pancetta sage gravy, coors light, biscuits, grape walnut salad (courtesy of angie), 7-layer salad (made by jake! even the dressing!), stuffing (courtesy of jude), green been caserole, goat cheese and carmelized shallot mashed potatoes. and one bottle of french chardonnay.

the two highlights: jake's seven layer salad and my turkey.

oh yeah, i also made pumpkin cheesecake with gingercrumb crust and marshmellow sour cream glaze. delish.

in all, the day was a huge success.

despite being so far away from friends and family we both had a pretty great time cooking, drinking bloody mary's, and watching The Office all day.

there is a very large amount to be thankful for this year.

we went over to my friend jen's house later that night for drinks and poker. i won everyone's money and stumbled across this fun little community memo. happy holidays!

mingling with seattle's elite

i finaggled my way into the annual nordstrom -"invite only"- earn 10 points for every dollar spent - shopping extravaganza - thingy. i went with two goals: to drink as much free champagne as possible and buy as much stuff as possible (i really wanted to maximize the point earning potential).

this is what i learned:
1-3 glasses of champagne = free time spent in search of more champagne instead of looking at things to buy.
4 glasses of champagne = a noticeably increased desire to buy things, accompianed by an increased level of chit chat with catherine, thus interfering with any efforts put forth to sort through the racks.
5+ glasses of champagne = a slight fixation on finding something to eat. far too dizzy and distracted to try anything on.

in conclusion, the champagne was delicious but i didn't buy nearly as much as i'd anticipated (which is probably a good thing). and i have a wicked headache today. and i think i made some more friends with the nordstrom staff (which is how i got into the dang thing in the first place). oh, i did purchase some really specatular lotion, so that'll be nice.

toe-tappin'

i'm crossing my fingers: in 10 days this little lady will hopefully be back in my life.



our "super awesome" apartment is fully carpeted. i plan on starting my carpet-removal-renovations tomorrow so she can fully preform all tricks and entertainment that i expect of her without the interference of low ply shag.

i have two new favorite stories. both made me laugh harder than i have in weeks.

the first came from my friend melanie in which she explained to me - straight faced - how she (in a minor fit of hungover rage) kicked her sleeping ex-boyfriend so she would feel better. in the end, more pain was felt in her foot than joe's body. she also still believes that this was a totally logical and sensible plan of action. this.is.why.i.love.melanie. but, it makes me sad that we have barely any pictures together and, of these few photos, a tenth are in front of a strip club. like this one. ooooooh man.

the other best story of my life is 100% stolen from caitlin and involves drunken catch phrase. i'll shorten it: t.ray and j.nelson were on the same team. all were drunk. this is the only way jeff attempted to describe his word was by saying "we be ____ all night, son!" accompanied with a "shuffling dance motion with his hands". this, on repeat, only provoked tom to stare at him in complete anger. do you have any ideas what the word may be? you're probably wrong.

toe-tapping. yes folks. "we be toe-tapping all night, son!"

what if?

what if i did this to my hair?

would i have to be tanner?

what if i named my first child Staten Island Ariel?

how to take a bath

an excerpt from a book i just read. not my favorite book in the world, but this little bit stuck with me. such is life.....

"Daniel would sink down on his knees in the warm waters, tipping his head back until love filled his ears and buoyed up his wings. He would close his eyes and slip down beneath the still waters, hoping that no one would notice if he remained there forever, submerged in the blind, warm depths. But the already-weres who ran the place weren't supposed to allow them to say there long. It wasn't healthy, the signs on the walls read. Those at risk of heart disease, or those who had a family history of borken hearts, were especially warned not to linger. But most did anyway, wrenching themselves out only when they absolutely had to, shivering off to school with their wings shriveled and shrunken.
Daniel had barely just arrived one night, sinking himself into the sweet warm pool, when the bath attendant assigned to watch him, a bald, thin man named Boris, sneaked up behind him and hauled him out by his wings.
"What are you doing?" Daniel sputtered as Boris raised him into the frigid air. Daniel had only discovered the bath a few weeks before, and he was livid.
"You can't just sit in that pool all night. You need to get used to the other temperatures," the bald man told him, his voice gruff. "You don't want to be surprised after you're born. If you never feel it here, there's no way you'll survive it there."
"But what about everybody else?" Daniel protested, waving his arm at the other not-yets splashing and laughing in the water. "Nobody's making them leave!" Drops of warm water still lingered in his ears.
Boris looked around at the other bath attendants, most of whom were lounging on the sides of the pool of love, dawdling, dangling their toes in with their charges. "That's because their attendants are idiots," he whispered. "Come with me, and I'll show you how to really take a bath." Then he took Daniel under his wing and whisked him off to a deserted room on the far end of the bathouse. Before Daniel knew what was happening, Boris had plunged him, feet first, into a tub of ice-filled hate.
Daniel screamed. Boris refused to let him out, holding his shoulders down under the ice. The pain was terrifying. Daniel screamed himself hoarse, but Boris just watched him scream his face immobile at the edge of the bath. Slowly Daniels's limbs began to go numb, and with the numbness, his screams subsided. He could no longer move, but he could also no longer feel. He sank deeper into the ice, frozen and silent.
"That's enough," Boris said, and wrenched him out of the water. Sill numb, Dnaiel rode on Boris's shoulders like a block of ice, more silent and cold than the storehouses of snow, until Boris opened another door, this time to a small, deep tank. He closed the door and gently lowered Daniel in a cold still pool of grief.
Daniel remained frozen, but he was no longer numb. This time he could feel the cold water seeping into his nose and ears and mouth, chilling his limbs. He tried to float, but he sank like a water logged book to the bottom, submerged in the cold. The ice had scalded him until he couldn't feel, but here there was no shield against the deep chill that seeped into him, tugging on his spine. He struggled in the water, but the more he moved, the more the cold soaked his bones. Boris watched him writhing beneath the surface and held his breath. At last he could no longer stand to watch, and pulled Daniel out. "A lot of people like to jump into the hot tub as soon as possible after the cold, but it's not a good idea," he advised Daniel. Daniel barely heard him. His blue face was streaked with tears. "Let's get you to one of the steam rooms instead."
Daniel wept on Boris's shoulder as Boris carried him into another room, this one thick with a gently heated mist. How wonderful it was! Slowly, movement returned, and he breathed in deeply, inhaling the refreshing moisture until his body tingled with life. He tipped his head back and felt the cozy mist tickle the insides of his ears until he started laughing. He was still laughing when Boris lifted him up again and carried him to another room, this one with a narrow pool divided in half, partitioned between desire and lust.
When he slipped into the half nearset to the door, Daniel found the water so hot that he almost climbed out, afraid of being scalded. But the more parts of his body he slipped into it, the less he wanted to leave. Bit by bit, his body took the drug and lulled itself into the burning pool . He enjoyed the tug of the heavy heat, allowing it to pull his head below the surface, allowing his eyes and mouth to ease open - and then, underwater, he screamed. SALT! He felt the salt blind him, searing his eyes and gagging his tounge. If I keep my eyes and mouth closed, it will be fine, he thought. He squinted his eyes and pursed his lips, but the damage had been done. His head burned, reeled. This time he climed out and jumped into the next pool without Boris's help - a churning hot tub where he rinsed his eyes and mouth, swallowing the tumbling whirlpool of boiling water until his head went weak in the heat. It was only after that, when Daniel had stayed in the hot tub so long that he nearly burst his own tiny heart, that Boris took him out and brought him back to the main room, where he gently floated him on his back into the pool of love.
"Much better, isn't it?" Boris asked.
But Daniel could no longer speak. The water that had simply been warm before now overwhelmed him with ectasy, caressing him from every side, buoying him to the surface, embracing him around the neck. When Boris lifted him out, much later, he didn't even protest. This time the warmth had entered him forever, saturating his bones and his heart.

- The World To Come, Dara Horn

something i love. and something the rabbits love.

I've been eyeing this up for over a month. Clever lil' me wisely waited until post-election to buy it and, thus, saved $30. Yesssss. Note to self: "D" stands for democrat as well as donkey - try to remember that next time.

I did not anticipate the extra joy this purchase would bring two other little beings in my life. They have a new favorite toy.

Luckily, I got the scarf out before the damage reached an internal level. Here's to hoping Nordstrom doesn't use arsenic in their dye.....

And, if you need something to help procrastinate (hurry up! you have less than a week): http://www.cnn.com/SPECIALS/2008/cnn.heroes/

"costal" living

Here are some previously unmetioned pro's and con's to the new place. Keep in mind - I only slept three hours last night and had a semi-harrowing day at Star$$$ (this may come across more bitter than I actually feel).

Starting with my negatives:
- it takes longer to heat up the shower than it does to take a shower (so much for this building being "green").
- the smoke alarm will go off when any of these things happen: wind blows, you look at it, a rabbit moves it's ear, the television and radio make noise at the same time, and when the neighbors unlock their door. i have yet to see/hear the bugger go off when actual smoke/fire are present. needless to say, i fear my life is in constant danger.
- outside of the residents of #207, no one seems to care about the uber-shady man that hangs outside the garage door at all hours.
- the never-ending list of terrible, terrible, awful design choices. the latest: the douchebag that built the bathroom counter so tight over the top of the toilet that maitinence couldn't get in to fix it. i had to help. i am not a plumber. oh, and another point i can't let die - the square footage of our porch > square footage of the apartment. it's not all that amazing when over 1/2 of the porch overlooks a stupid street.
- parking garage. i don't even own a car and it stresses me out.
- there is no ice machine.

And the positives:
- you can, literally, stumble home from uptown china (seriously, it's uphill from here. and i've done it). it's not Barriques, but it'll do. and the egg rolls are damn tasty.
- my roomies really like music while they're bathing. one of them likes to listen to it, the other likes to sing his/her own songs. i'll let you guess who is who.
- they put out FREE COOKIES and candy on tuesdays. yes - FREE COOKIES. i.can.not. think of a better way to convince this girl to re-sign a lease other than give her free food. specifically - FREE COOKIES.
- catherine made me free cookies (see above if this doesn't really hit home with you).
- remember the porch i was complaining about up above? well, the other half looks over elliot bay, so it's not all bad.

interesting...or not so much...

bored? check it.

fact? or fiction?

i'm going with bullshit.

plus, you'll need a ruler. and you'll have to figure out how to convert inches to mm. again i say - bullshit.

the shug

i spent my last days in madison floating down the sugar river with tom and caitlin (guest appearances: catherine, angela, stumpy - the bus driver, a father and his daughter - who traded cigs with tom, a group of young college girls - who wanted to trade with tom, and two high school girls - who i tried to buy a kitten from).

our floats involved a lot of journey, the boss, and caitlins hit summer mixes; eric aquired a pretty sweet floating cooler that just happened to contain a cd player. the floating also involved a delicious mix of stoli citrus and raspberry lemonade (if i remember correctly). on one of our drives home caitlin and i rocked out to this sweet jam and declared that it was our song. forever, our song. and then we cried. i can't blame the tears entirely on the stoli/lemonade refreshments.

so, when i get lonely, i pump up leona and sing my heart out. and think about caitlin. and hope that she was able to do the fresco paperwork this week. and sincerly hope that if she didn't get around to doing paperwork, t-ray will send me a comic photo of proof.

needless to say, leona's on repeat tonight. i miss certain people quite a bit. i miss them more when i have to wake up homeless people sleeping on the couches at starbucks, when i find mini liquor bottles hidden in the toilets at starbucks, when i have to call 911 because pepper-sprayed drug-dealers stumble into zoe asking for medical attention, and when i spit wine into my eyeballs during staff meetings. i miss them not because these situations are stressful, or anxiety ridden, or scary. i miss them because i want to laugh my ass off and no one else understands (yet) why i think this shit is so funny.

i miss them because i have yet to meet anyone willing to follow me past the "free kittens. take 1. or 2. or 3" sign and kindly stop me from pursing the offer.

i smell like a hippy

As promised:

A Tale of a Girl. And Her Spider.

or,

A Tale of How I Came to Rethink Karmic Retribution

A couple days before we moved I got bit on my butt cheek. At the time I thought it was a feather (I felt it as I got out of bed one morning). Didn't think anything of it - who gets bit by a spider? what does that actually mean? how bad could it be? As time went by, it started itching a little more, the skin felt warm to touch, it kinda hurt, and if I was a little buzzed I thought it was interesting enough to show to my friends (they didn't think it was. sorry Jess).

Fast forward to Western Montana. It'd been bugging me for days and I already knew it was something more serious than a bad misquito, or misplaced hicky, or whatever. It hurt to sleep on, to sit on, to walk. Despite this, I couldn't bring myself to pay $8 for a mini tube of Triple Antibiotic Ointment. Nor could I bring myself to ask my fellow travelers to unpack the U-Haul just to find my first aid supplies. Note to cross-country movers: keep the medicine handy.

Where's Catherine?

So, we're cruising along and decide we've hit a pretty great opportunity for a photo shoot. We pull over. I get out of the car. I feel it pop. I can barely walk. I can feel "it" running down my leg. T-ray mentions he has a mini-first aid kit with him. I take a look. Nasty. I bandage up. The photo was amazing. Enough said.

I suffered through the bite, throughout the drive. The bite eventually decreased in size - but not in pain, and not in the amount of fluid it wanted to release. The moment we got into our apartment I got out my medical stuff and started treating it best I could. Then, I had an allergic reaction to the plastic on the band-aid (Susan insists they were subsequent spider bite reactions). Either way, I now had a cute little compass-shape of zit-like bumps allllllllll over my butt. And they itched. Any they hurt. And they kept popping. Whatev. I like to think I'm tough. I started every day with a cocktail of Allegra, hydrocortisone, calamine, triple-antibiotic, etc. Bring it bitch.

Until I tried to walk around and find a job. I - three times - had to abandon my application-drop-off-first-impression mission because I kept bleeding through my "outfits". People told me to go to a doctor, but I don't have insurance (failed to realize Starbucks doesn't kick in until 6 months of dedication, or something like that). I'll skip the rest of the yicky details (I think you've had enough already) and tell you that, three days ago - a month and a half AFTER I got this bite - a new spot showed up, about six inches away from the initial point of contact. This one got baaad. So bad Catherine took a picture for me. And, so bad I finally agreed to seek medical attention.

(You can kind of see the darker purple dots, where old bumps have surfaced, and gone back down.) Okay, okay, it's disgusting, I know. But, it is WAY better. As quickly as this one appeared, it dissapeared. I had a some - lovely - chats with my aunt and uncle and they said: "put some tea tree oil on it, give it five days to get better. If it doesn't, go to the doctor". And I'm thankful for that. The oil is helping and the last thing I want to do is pay cash out of pocket for someone to tell me to wait it out and take some benedryl.

I smell like a hippy. Or, as my wonderful boyfriend says: "you smell like dirty old man car". Great.

Karma, karma, karma.

Fresco, being in a GARDEN, has a lot of bug issues. I think I was the only person who didn't actively seek out ways to kill them. Yes, if they were hanging above me at the host stand, or above a table, I would try to gently put them into hiding. I understand that people are afraid of them and don't really want to see them while they're eating. I love the spiders. I understand their place on earth. I tried to save them from Bindy's swinging broom of wrath and hatred. What do I get? I dogdamn infection that has my boyfriend fearing for my life and me bleeding through $210 new jeans. So. Fuck karma. Fuck the spiders. I do not fear them. I just hate them. And they deserve it.

On another note. If you get bit by anything that you think might be a spider, please get yourself to a doctor right away. Please please please. I think my condition is exaggerated because I tend to be overly sensitive to creepy crawly bites. Nonetheless, get yourself checked out. STD's are like a DQ ice cream cake, or baronjager shot - if you will, compared to this mofo.

Now, through all the research I've done, this is the only spider I've come up with that could deal this injury. I'm not convinced, because everyone says it's specific to the SW. And, I think I would have seen something this big and ominous. But, be on the lookout.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brown_recluse_spider#Venomous_bite

And, don't treat your neighbors like you want to be treated, just don't bite them with venom, and you'll be fine.

one more for today

heaven comes in a cup. with or without ice.

find it. buy it.

mix it with jager and you have a "bumblebee".

*popular name: "baronjager", for all of you who don't have magical glasses that allow you to read thru the gauze wrapping.

seattle is like the popular girl in high school

want to hear about the biggest adjustment to our life in seattle? i'm going to tell you either way, and it's not the rain.

day one seattle: dropped the boys at the golf course and, within a couple hours, they'd managed to make friends with fred. fred, who bartends at a chinese restaurant a block away from our apartment. fred, who likes to give us "big whiskeys" for really low discount prices. fred, who is an amazing golfer. off to a good start? i'd like to think so. thru fred we meet more of fred's "friends", most of whom are also seattle transplants. after a couple "big whiskeys" they really like to talk about seattle natives.

deal is: people are super nice to your face but, beyond that, want nothing to do with you. think back to freshman year, or the first day on the job. or, as i imagine it, posing nude in an art class and, despite seeing your bits and peices, no one will talk to you afterwards. it sounds extreme, but i'm feeling very bruised in my attempt to make friends. you run into your new "friends" on the street and they all of a sudden forget they ever met you and will use any excuse to not talk to you.

i thought everyone was full of shit. but then it happened to me.
and the google search "seattle freeze" turned up lots of info.
including this little piece, which sums it up pretty well.

http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/pacificnw/2005/0213/cover.html

let me clarify before ya'll think i'm depressed and unhappy with our decision to move. it's quite the opposite. i love it here. i feel that this could be/is my new home. i see water everywhere i go and it expands beyond my view. i see mountains every time the clouds part. the dog i will own is allowed in nearly every non-food-establishment location. importantly, i like the solitarly lifestyle and i look forward to this life where i can spend a weekend alone with jake and not deal with an external guilt-trip for staying in by myself.

further clarification: i love my madison and non-madisonian friends. i think of you all every day. i'd like to give a shout out to those who call me, and text me, and write me, and fill me in on the details of your life and my old life. you know who you are because we've been in some form of contact within the last week. this matters more to me than having a seattle friend to go to happy hour with me. but happy hour is more happy when you're with someone.

tomorrow: i'll talk about spiders. if you're lucky, i'll drink a big whiskey and post a picture.