Wherein you should probably stop reading right now.

I feel like I have 1000 secrets that all might burst out of me at once. But really I have none. Nothing is a secret, just private.

I just woke up, at 4am, and stared at the ceiling for about an hour. I have two days of conversations with CJ running through my head. Tonight, at midnight (that's right, four hours of sleep), when I got back to my little couch oasis, I was a bit perturbed and it is just late (or is it early?) enough and I had just enough glasses of wine (two point five) to get up in the middle of the night to post a junky rant on my junky blog.

And it is not even a rant. There are two things I do when I am stressed, 1. Make everything into a list and 2. Turn every sentence into a song lyric.

So here goes.

1. This is my least favorite time of year. We are past fall. Fall is September, October, the first part of November before Thanksgiving. We are no longer in the fall.
2. I am tired of being a hobo.
3. I am not a control freak.
4. I miss my mom and I miss RF and I am tired of missing people.
5. I'm not ready to make nice.


And that is all I got. Mostly because I'm pretty sure there is someone staring at me through this window. Or maybe that is just my reflection. I can't really tell.

After work tonight, as I was walking to the bus stop in the dark, I was trying to imagine the number of home robberies that occur when the intruder knows the family is most likely home. Then I mentally removed the incidents of which the intruder is on some sort of drugs or alcohol. Then I mentally removed the incidents of which the intruder is probably a fucking nut job.

Then I decided I was probably pretty safe living alone.

Or that I could always get an attack cat. If I could get a fatty like Buttons, I would do it tomorrow. But cats, like men, are deceiving. You might think they are fat and cuddly but then they tear your face off.

Le sigh.

Dark and twisty. I'm going back to bed. This blog proves two things: 1) never blog in the middle of the night when you feel sad and can't sleep, and 2) I take the morning train / I work from 10 to 7 and then / I take another home to find Snuggie waiting for me.

Wherein Bry is undateable.

I'm "single," or as RF told me, "a playa." I can't be tamed.

Actual conversation.

CJ: I'm going to a wedding over Halloween.

ME: (frozen in fear that he might ask me to go with him)

CJ: I know you hate Halloween but (at this point I'm about to die) can you help me decide on a costume.

ME: (trying not to sound relieved) Sure. What do you have in mind?

CJ: Zombie? Something Star Wars?

ME: Have you considered going as a doctor or a lawyer.

CJ: (his brow furrows and I can see he is trying to censor his response).

ME: (I decide to make it worse) How about Mr. Darcy?

CJ: Okay. Now I know you are just messing with me.

ME: I'm horrible at this. It maybe part of the reason I hate Halloween. Aside from all the made up crap. The only costume I ever wore that I like was a a dress slip and a name tag that said Freud. I was a Freudian slip.

CJ: That's clever.

ME: Yeah. I wore it to a frat party.

CJ: (quiet and a little frown)

ME: That's sounds worse than it is. It was the gayest frat ever. Well that sounds bad too. They were not all actually gay. Well not all of them. But some. I'm trying to say, in the most offensive way possible, apparently, that I wasn't there to meet guys. I was there to hang with my girlfriends. (he raises his eyebrows). Friends. FRIENDS. This conversation is going down hill. Let's rewind.

CJ: Okay.

ME: I think you should be a zombie lawyer.

Wherein Bry stole some free Wi-Fi to update this blog.

CPR asked me if I was concerned that CJ may read my blog.

“Well I didn’t tell him I write one so if he does, he Googled me so it is his own damn fault.”

At least that is my memory or my response, though SE may correct this. She is The Corrector. It is her particular brand of super power. She roams the streets, correcting me when I tell stories wrong, which apparently is every day and every story. Rather than finding this annoying, it is actually endearing. It means she is paying attention.

I have a busy few weeks coming up. Starting tomorrow, with RF’s birthday surprise. He conspired with GZ, a mistake I realized too late. I wish he had chosen a friend who was bad at secret keeping. RF himself is playing this very close to the chest. I feel like it is easier for him to be evasive in Boston because he doesn’t get to experience my Death Glare that usually pulls the secrets out of his head.

Then it is LM’s Last Single Lady Lady’s Night (bachelorette party sounds lame) which leads into the wedding next week.

As soon as the wedding is over, I turn my attention to M.O.V.I.N.G. again. I’m very stressed out over this, so much so that I’m quite convinced I’m going to give myself hives. I have no idea where I am moving to and it is only 30 days away. Yikes. So it is quite possible I will be living under the Burnside Bridge and brushing my teeth and changing in the Family Restroom at work.

For all my joking, I don’t really want to be a hobo, the real kind that actually has no place to go.

The older I get, the more I turn into all the things I abhor.

Cougar, real hobo, mean girl.

Wherein Bry recaps the past 29 birthdays.

29

I had to close at work, which didn't seem so bad at the time until everyone at work got stupid so then I had a horrible night. EB took me to Five Guy's at 11pm. GM brought me brownies!

28

RF, DB, JY and I went to sushi, which was fun, and then when they dropped me off it was raining and the road was blocked off and I ended up walking home in the rain and dark. I got home and got in bed because I was so cold and got the flu the next day.

27

I was moving to California in 2 weeks so Mom came out from Montana and we went to the coast with RF, DB, AA, and EBa. It was awesome. Went on a hike, crabbing, and walked on the beach a lot.

26

Went to Manzana with RF and AA and then went to Vegas the next day with AE and JY. It was fun-ish. I won some money, but was also the drunkest I've ever been. Went to an improv show, fun. Spent the morning hungover, not fun.

25

RF and DB took me to San Juan Island, Washington. We camped and went kayaking and saw a billion Orcas. One of the best weekends of my life.

24

RO, RF, KT and a bunch of other people took me out. Dinner at Manzana, bars, strip club. I'm pretty sure this is the first time I hung out with AA. Then CJ came down from Seattle for the weekend.

23

First birthday in Portland. I don't know what I did, where I went or what I ate. I'm pretty sure this was my first birthday at Manzana.

22

Last birthday celebrated at Linfield. EB and KT planned a scavenger hunt and that was fun. Dinner with friends.

21

Went to Montana right after 9/11 attacks. Mom was in hospital. Went out at 10pm on 9/15 and drank until midnight when I said "Whoo hoo! I'm 21!" Bartender was not happy. Also, BH stepped on my flip-flop and it broke so I went to a few bars with no shoes.

20

Went to Lincoln City with RO, CJ, and KT. Had dinner and then ran around with my friends on the beach in the rain.

19

First birthday away from Mom. I'm sure I spent it with KT and RO but not really sure what we did. My birthday is sandwiched in between KT's and RO's, so its a blur.

18

I was in Billings accepting an award for Montana Healthcare Association Volunteer of the Year.

17

Hmmm...

16

I went to a football game (Go Yellowjackets!) And I got a new sleeping bag.


And now we have come to the end of my memory. I really cannot think of where I was or what I may have been doing.

I'm sure I was with my mom. There were gifts. Probably cake and ice cream with CH, PH, RH and my brothers. My mom probably made lasagna or enchiladas.

But I can't picture a single thing.

As I was sitting here trying to figure out what I may have done on my birthday, age 1-15, I realized that I didn't appreciate the things my mom did for us while she was doing them.

I know that I now reflect on how awesome Mom is, but at the time it didn't click. All of the sacrifices, all the money she spent. Managing school and then work with the extracurricular activities of three kids.

And always making our birthdays special. Making whatever we wanted for dinner, having friends and family over. Every good memory I have before age 15 involves my mom.

I can still remember walking in the back door and feeling the heat and smell of dinner hitting my face. Of her asking how my day was. Of her bringing us treats and giving us gifts even on Valentine's Day.

Why is it that as a child we look for our mother's love in the things she gives us, but as an adult we just want the words and actions?

I am thankful to have a mom who has loved me best these past 30 years and I hope I do her proud.

Wherein Bry does some stuff and then eats some pie.

I typed up a blog on my phone while waiting for Nugget and then my phone went and died for no reason (unless it was trying to say "Listen beyotch, if you insist on dropping me on my head, then I insist on not working"). Which is just another reason why I hate technology. If you write something on a piece of paper, it doesn't disappear when the power shuts off or the battery dies. And if you drop the piece of paper on the floor, it doesn't break.
Well whatever I wrote, it went something like this.

I have not been blogging much lately because I've been tired and busy. If I wasn't sleep and time impoverished, I would blog every day. Instead, you get a blog whenever I damn well feel like it.

A lot has happened over the past few weeks but I either can't remember it because I'm too tired or it is not as funny or important as I once thought.

RF visited for the better part of 2 weeks and we spent the time eating, drinking and having a gay old time. No really, a gay time. We spent a lot of time talking about or actually pursuing men. I won't talk about the men on men action here. I don't want to make you blush and besides, does the FCC monitor blog content?

TN and his man-friend MS visited, too. I think MS is great and it is always nice when my friends date people I don't have to pretend to like.

I'm also moving again. Soon. I hate moving and it sucks and I'm tired of it. So I have 3 options.

1) Find a cheap place I will want to stay in forever.

2) Couch surf.

3) Move into KTs garage.

So prepare yourselves for options 2 and 3, they involve you.

My birthday is next week. I've never been too "birthday birthday" but I am looking forward to a dinner with friends and perhaps a walk or swing afterwards.

I am a bit nervy about turning 30. I always wanted to make it to Europe before I was 30 and it is not even on the horizon. It is really the only thing I've ever thought about wanting to do before hitting 30. I'm not after a husband or kids, just a bit of adventure.

I kind of remember this blog being much funnier before my phone tried to eff me over. But in between, I've eaten some soup and pie and now I'm lethargic despite copious amounts of coffee.

Today I was walking with my lethal umbrella and accidentally poked a service dog with it. His name was Sparky and he was quite nice about the whole endeavor and thank god his owner was blind so she didn't see me almost make her service dog need a service dog of his own.

There, I saved the blog from complete junk.

I hate the days I leave the house unsure of whether I put on deodorant.

I'm pretty sure I did, somewhere between brushing my teeth and spraying on some perfume, but there is a bit of doubt in the back of my mind.

Kind of the same as did I lock the door? did I turn off the stove? did I turn off the hot iron?

Except not putting on deodorant will not get me robbed or burn the house down.

I'm pretty sure I did put on deodorant and this weird little lady I sat next to on the bus DID NOT which lead to my self-doubt. I mean, I am pretty hobo so I wouldn't put it past me, but I should really consider my environment.

A man just turned around and stared at me and I stared back for at least a minute until he looked away in defeat. Then he looked again and nodded. We either just made non-verbal plans to go on a date or he noticed that my clothes don't match.

I should really just rename this blog "Things That Happen To Me On The Bus."

I am having a serious good music drought. I feel like I have no time to listen to new music and all the old stuff is boring me.

This is indicative of a greater problem in my life in which I feel like all I do is go to work and go home. This is clearly not true, but I am feeling stressed out so all the islands of fun in between work are distant memories seconds after they end.

The exception is this week as RF is here, but last night I was pretty much the most boring person ever while hanging out with GZ. I have nothing to say.

I need 12 hours of sleep in a row. Not spread out over three days.

I cannot wait for camping. It is my oasis. If I can just make it to September 17th, I will survive.

Wherein Bry is a tennis groupie.

I am currently sitting in Washington Park, adjacent to the Rose Garden. I can smell the roses, their sweet, soft scent wafting through the air. In the distance, a perfect view of the Portland skyline serves as a nice background to this peaceful setting.

But for the screaming bitches in front of me, throwing insults with the same velocity as their tennis swings.

RF has been in town less than 24 hours and I am already court side. In this case, it is not a real match. Just RF and three bitches trying to out bitch each other.

JM and AA picked RF and I up at 1:30 and we headed to the courts at the Rose Garden. They are hitting with their friend T.

I am sitting on the grass watching, as per usual. I have been reading Mockingjay, but RF asked me to blog about him, so I've turned to my trusty Blackberry.

Last night we went to CC's for drinks, dancing, and debauchery. RF and I barely had anything to drink, despite the availability of $1 whiskey sours. More sour than whiskey. And this morning we both had headaches!

Last night we watched AA grinding on some girl. Suddenly he is straight. I'm a little worried he has gone and lost his damned mind.

RF looks really good. He has been working out a lot and looks pretty hot. I think the tennis boys at the tournament next week are going to get up in his business now that he is single.

Later we are headed to dinner, and then who knows. I go back to work tomorrow and RF leaves for the Hood to Coast race.