The first of many. Well, maybe.

Welcome to my new blog space. Not my new blog because lord knows I have nothing new to say – same old junk, new address.

I got tired of poking around MySpace and trying to predict when their blog application was going to give me troubles.

Plus, if I’m over here in BlogSpot land, I can read TN’s blog(s) more often.

There is not much going on in Bry news. I will be moving again by July. I also recently became a supervisor at work, which is nice. This is my first week of that business.

The weather is supreme today. Very nice. I wore flippity floppities for the first time this year (I don’t think donning them to take out the trash counts).

There was a time when all I wore were flippity floppities. It was also a time in which I fell down a lot. And even though TN loved that, I did not. It hurts the bum and the dignity.

I’ve been continuing my reading though I have slowed down a lot and am averaging 10 books a month. Right now I’m reading The Friday Night Knitting Club because I have to lead the book club at work.

Now, I will freely admit to reading dirty romance novels. I will admit to reading stupid vampire books. But I cannot admit to reading chick lit, because I do not read it. And here is why.

I don’t need to read a book about women who want to get married and have kids. I know those people. That is reality. I don’t want to read books about women who have misunderstandings with their boyfriends or date losers and then miraculously find their one true love in the least likely place. That is reality. Well the first part, not the meeting the one true love part.

My reality is this. I hate everyone I am not friends with and some of the ones I am friends with. (It makes it more interesting).

So you can see why reading a book about chicks falling in love and chicks having massive groups of best friends and chicks knitting together and reading together kind of makes me want to puke.
Show me a book about a girl who likes to drink coffee; play scrabble; watch BBC adaptations; go camping and fishing; wants to open a bakery/bookstore; and hangs out with half the gay population of Portland, Oregon, and I will show you my diary.