Murder Bry Wrote

As I was driving home tonight, I decided that the Fourth of July is really a good day to do some murdering. Think of all the havoc one could wreak just as the loudest boom of fireworks goes off. 


These are the things I think about. This is why you love me and are mildly scared of me.


Everyone at work tonight was talking about these two things:


1. Andy Griffith died. 
2. Alec Baldwin said some really crazy things in Vanity Fair. 


The first, that Andy Griffith died, is sad. The second, unsurprising.


Most specifically, Alec Baldwin said of a paparazzo, "I wanted to stick a knife in him and gut him and kill him and I wanted him to die breathing his last breath looking into my eyes."


Obviously, Alec Baldwin didn't do this and that is just some good old fashioned Irish rage talking. But his thoughts make me feel better about my dark thoughts. 


I do love Alec Baldwin. In fact, a few weeks ago at trivia, our quiz master asked for some suggestions for trivia topics and I said "Alec Baldwin" and she said "Who?" and I sad "ALEC BALDWIN!" And she said "No one cares about Alec Baldwin." To which I wanted to respond, "Fuck you? And people care about 80s butt rock, cartoons, and candy?" Because terrible music, cartoons, and candy seem to be the theme of trivia every week, which is sort of infuriating. 


But whatever. 


My point here is that as long as one does not act on them, it is okay to occasionally have dark thoughts. It is a creative mind at work. I don't think these thoughts because I want to follow through with them. I think these thoughts because I want to write a book about them. And because I watch too much Criminal Minds. 


A few days ago I was driving home and saw a city vehicle pass by. The side of the car said "Forensic Services" and I literally almost peed my pants. I wanted to follow the car to the crime scene and ask a lot of questions, chief among them, "Do you know Dr. Spencer Reid?"


The truth is that I could never murder someone because I think disposing of the body could take a lot of energy and I'm actually pretty lazy (shocker) and dislike guns, digging holes, lifting concrete, and duct tape. Remember this should you ever be called to testify in my defense. 

I threw in this picture of Alec Baldwin because he was very handsome at age 26 and I could forgive him anything. Actually, I could forgive him anything just for taking Liz Lemon under his wing, but being extremely handsome does help. 


I am not extremely good looking. On occasion, I can be mildly clean looking. 


Several people told me I look pretty today, but I don't care because I don't want to sleep with any of them. They probably only said I look pretty because I'm wearing a clean shirt and some free make-up. Also, I've really perfected the sexy tousled hair look and I will tell you how to achieve the same look. 


1. Don't wash your hair for several days even if you take a shower (it is really tiring to shampoo). 


2. Don't brush your hair for several days and hope all the snags work their own way out. 


3. Wear your hair down because you can't find a hair tie. 


4. Drive to work with the windows all down because it is hot as balls in your car and there is a suspiciously moldy smell wafting about. Try to hold your head against the headrest so you can maximize the cross-breeze. 


5. While trying to find a toothpick in the center console, pull out a scuffed up, black and white polka dotted headband and decide that will work to keep your bangs out of your face. Boom. You're done. 


I give you this advice because I love you and want you to look your best, too. And I promise you now, I will never stick a knife in you. 

Wherein Bry's life is ripped from the headlines of...sitcoms.

I've been watching How I Met Your Mother a lot over the past few weeks. From episode 1 through to Monday night's season premier. And much like when I watched Seinfeld and Friends, I'm starting to see a lot of parallels between the plot lines of the show and my life.

This makes sense because each of these shows are about 20/30/40 something singles living in the city. Not original material as far as story lines, but in funny in their delivery. So finding commonality with a sitcom designed to entertain and catch the attention of the 18-42 crowd is like saying "Hey, I have a vagina."

Until last night, I was bemused by this. Not now.

In Season 4, Ted makes Stella watch his favorite movie, Star Wars. Stella says she loves it, but later admits to Marshall that she hated it, but will always pretend she loves it so that Ted is happy.

Okay. I hate Star Wars. Hate it. I have seen it before. Once. In a theater with my speech & debate team (hold your laughter) in high school when the 20th anniversary rolled around (hold your old person jokes). We were in Billings (I think) at a match and one of my friends (AMM) dressed up like Leia. I dressed up like Bry. There are no Bry's in Star Wars.

This will come as no surprise to those of you who know my dislike of science fiction.

Last night at dinner, the subject of Star Wars came up. I'm not sure how. CJ has an innate ability to direct things away from the topic at hand ("Have you been paying attention to the Christine O'Donnell race?") to the nerdy ("I got a copy of a Star Wars Lego game for $1 at a garage sale.") and while, to be fair, he is a great conversationalist, but, I don't understand or like video games, especially video games about movies I also hate.

I'm pretty sure he could read this in my face.

"See, my friend told me not to talk about Star Wars on dates. I'm sorry."

"No, that's okay, I'm pretty sure I shouldn't talk about Pride and Prejudice on a date and we already did that."

"Have you seen Star Wars?"

"Once." I recap the story of the exhausting trip to the theater (I'm pretty sure I slept through most of it).

So yadda, yadda, yadda, we go back to his place.

And watch Star Wars.

CJ is convinced that I will love it because he already knows I love 1) politics, 2) love stories, 3) laughing, and 4) hot men.

I just need to "give it a chance."

How did this happen you ask?

1) I really had to pee and the bathroom at Dragonfish is in the basement of the Paramount hotel. That is poor planning on their part. We were walking in the general direction of his place and I know the bathroom at his apartment is ridiculously clean.

2) I kinda wanted to make out. What dude wants to watch Star Wars when he can make out?

3) We were holding hands and I got distracted thinking "Why are his hands so soft?" and I think I agreed to it non-verbally.
Jesus.

Star Wars is loud. Yeah, Harrison Ford is kinda hot. But now he is old and married to Ally McBeal. But they run around and shoot things and who the fuck cares? I hate it. I find no inherent value.

Of course afterwards, there is the obligatory......SO??????????? look on his face.

And unlike Stella, I can't lie.

"Yeah, I still don't like it. I've been writing a blog about his in my head for the past hour."

Was he disappointed I didn't like it? No. He was actually very understanding. I think.

"You never have to watch a single Jane Austen movie, I promise," I told him.

I wasn't going to lie. I hated it. Sure, I could have pulled a Stella and said I liked it just to make him happy. But you know what? Stella was a bitch. She left Ted for her ex, a karate freak.

Don't even get me started about karate.

Wherein Bry turns 30 and goes on a bender of sorts.

Well I'm back to normal post-minication. I am officially old even though, according to women's magazines, I'm reaching my peak years. I have a hard time believing any advice that comes from a periodical that insists on putting Lauren Conrad on the cover time and time again.

When I was a teen, my friend AP would tell me I gave good advice "just like Seventeen" magazine. Well hah! I read Sassy, which was for hipsters, so the joke's on her. Or something. What was I saying?

Oh right, my birthday.

So I had a super fantastic dream-like birthday that I don't deserve. But my friends are amazing.

I spent Thursday shopping with LM and then we got some drinks before I met KT and TB for pedicures. I even remembered my flip-flops, which means my pedi wasn't junked up three seconds after it was "dry."

Dinner was at Sweet Basil Thai, and was delicious. Followed up by some drinks with friends and then a very interesting night out downtown that was a bit too crazy for my taste. More on that later.

On Friday, I met SE in Beaverton and we drove out to Tillamook. We got to our campsite at Cape Lookout State Park and it was P.O.U.R.I.N.G rain. We set up a tarp and the tent in the rain, which was a comedy of errors.

By the time GS arrived, SE and I were done moving in to the tent and popped a celebratory can of Natural Ice (henceforth known as Natty's).

Then we headed into town and shopped for some groceries (if you can refer to buying hot dogs, donuts, cheetos, nutter butters and spaghetti as groceries. I'm pretty sure Shaggy and Scooby Doo (or Cheech and Chong) would be proud).

Then we got some pizza at some place that boasted they had "The Best Pizza & Salad Bar On The Coast." I was so hungry, it could have been an elementary cafeteria and I wouldn't have cared. Of course, then the pizza would have been in rectangle pieces.

Friday night was super rainy so we decided to play cards and hang in the tent. Had some whiskey sours, some Natty's, and played poker.

Saturday, we went on the cape hike fairly early. It was awesome. I love that hike. It is fairly easy and the views are fantastic.

Saturday was the only day we had a fire. It was too rainy and windy to hang out around the picnic table with the way we had things set up. We tried to take a walk on the beach when it was slightly drizzling but the wind was atrocious. So the rest of Saturday was spent in the tent, which was actually super fun, talking and playing cards, right up to about 9pm, when we went to bed. And approximately the same time a Tsunami-Tornado-Flood started its reign of terror.

There were times I wasn't sure the tent was going to make it through the night. At one point I said "I have horrible depth perception, but it feels like the roof is too close to my face." SE assured me that was not due to my depth perception.

It was about this time that I became a cuddling whore. Word of advice, don't pack for camping when you are hungover. You will assure yourself that a yoga jacket is all you need for a weekend at the coast if it means you can lay down on the bed just one more time.


At first I was burrowing behind GS like a mole. Then I had my feet under SE's sleeping bag. At one point I had my hands and feet under SE's sleeping bag. And I'm not sure if either of them noticed, but I kept tugging their sleeping bags closer to me, hoping it would cocoon me in between. My logic was faulty (probably due to some Natty's) because sleeping between two 5-foot cubes of ice is only a good idea when someone is trying to steal your organs. And while my liver might try to argue with me, I woke up intact.

The storm was so bad, other campers left in the middle of the night. This storm was so bad, only one other camping trip compares and that was a hiking trip to Bear Lake that involved a snowstorm, broken tent poles, and TG getting the flu and puking in her sleeping bag.

Sunday morning, we were awake, dressed, packed, and on the road by 9am. Got some breakfast in Tillamook at the Pancake House, and made it back to Portland by 11:30am.

Despite the storm, I'm do it all over again, but be a bit more prepared, and bring some duct tape since, ahem, someone didn't do their genetic part.

Fun Facts about my Birthday Bender:

# of alcoholic drinks consumed: 36 (martini, whiskey sours, shots, wine coolers, real good beer, Natural Ice)

# of hours spent watching Gilmore Girls: 8

# of hours spent watching How I Met Your Mother: 6

# of hours spent slightly damp from the rain: 36

# of hours spent getting lost while driving around with friends: 2

Jokes about murdering and kidnapping while shopping for rope and tarp: 1 million

Bry-isms:

"This isn't a Sorority Social, shut the hell up!"

"I hiked my pants up to my boobs so they wouldn't get wet and now they won't come down."

"My stomach feels gurgly. I think its because there is a cheeto floating in Natural Ice in there."

(In the midst of the rainstorm) "For the last hour I've been imagining we are on Mt. Everest."

"I'm not good with knots. I forgot my Boy Scout training."

"I'm putting my glasses on in case this is Armageddon."

Wherein Bry continues to lead a glamorous life.

Tonight I went to Duncan's birthday party. All of his little dog friends came (Floyd, Trucker, Digsby, and Jag). First we went to the dog park in Tigard and then to Max's Brew Pub on Main Street in Tigard.

At the park, I attempted to throw a ball and it went really far! A perfect throw, until the landing when it, well, landed on someone. She was not happy that I hit her. She was probably less happy that I laughed nervously. I feel as though it is hard to tell the difference between nervous laughter, and a rude cackle, at a great distance.

At dinner, KT brought out the treat bags she made for all the dogs, complete with homemade treats made with dogs in mind. Then after dinner, she had cupcakes for the dogs and cupcakes for humans. So cute.

Then I went to Powell's again. I am almost physically unable to pass with out going in. I love it. Then home to catch up on Project Runway (one more episode left. The hat episode from last week).

I tried to explain Project Runway to GZ and she was completely uninterested. Especially when I said "Well nothing really happens. They make clothes and then whoever has the worst gets kicked off. And half of them are gay so they are bitchy and queeny."

Whatever. At least we agree on Bones.