Things I've Lost on the Bus: A List

1. At least 5 umbrellas.

2. Countless books and magazines.

3. An I-pod Nano

4. A bag of cookies

5. Two purses. One of which was later sent back to me with a note that said "I found this in my son's room." The other purse is still MIA and there were a couple of coffee cards due for a free coffee. A caffeinated thief thanks me for my carelessness.

6. The contents of my stomach. Sorry bus driver on the #96 in the summer of 2005. I think we both learned a valuable lesson that night. You need to drive better and I shouldn't mix cheap brandy and cherry coke.

7. A bell jar full of coffee.

8. Rain boots, which I later got back from the transit lost and found.

9. A loaf of olive bread.

10. A bag of dirty tupperware.

I better copyright this sh*t.

 I have a lot of awesome ideas on a regular basis.

Here is a list of ideas I've had that were NOT so great.

1. Made a four-minute video of a cat.
2. Left Mondo in a running car.
3. Ran over a plastic shopping bag.
4. Took the bus.  Oh yeah, took the bus.  I don't miss bussing to work.

Now that you've reviewed some of my terrible decisions, you will be properly prepared to recognize two awesome ideas I've had as of late.

yes, both of them are about dogs.

Roll your eyes.

Look at a picture of Mondo.

I am adorable. Now give me a treat.

See how cute he is? Wouldn't you become overly interested in dogs if you had a Mondo Fattington Hoegenheimer?

Now, back to business.

Idea #1

A phone app that allows you to take a picture of a dog and then the app will tell you what kind of dog you are looking at and all sorts of facts about the dog. The facts part I don't really care about, I mostly want to know what sort of an ugly mutt I'm looking at when I encounter dogs on Mt. Tabor.

This one is kind of cute.

  
Idea #2

A match.com for dogs! Now there are some websites like this one and and this one for single humans that have pets and are looking for a love match with someone else that also loves pets.

And there is this British site for dogs that is sort of close to what I'm talking about.

I want there to be a website that allows you to upload your dogs information, likes, dislikes, etc and then you can match to other dogs in the area so they can fall in love.

I'm sort of serious about Idea #2. But mostly, Idea #2 came about when my boss and I were giggling over the possibility of her dog Lila and my dog Mondo being online loves, sending each other letters and photos.


I think these are awesome ideas. Not so awesome that I'm willing to invest any money in making them happen, but awesome enough ideas that I would download a free app on to my phone if one so existed.

So if someone could get on with making these two ideas happen, I'd really appreciate it.

I'm much to busy being Bry Hoeg.

Things I've Learned Since Moving

A little over two weeks ago I moved into a new house with MK and AM. This is what I've learned so far.


1. Mondo and Seeley really are in love. They are so in love that I fear for their separation. Last night I asked AM, "Do you think that before Seeley and Mondo met they would dream about one day meeting a dog and falling in love and then suddenly here they are, in love?" and I followed that up with a "You complete me, Seeley." I admit to being a bit of a weirdo.






2. Walks are great. They are awesome from sunup to sundown. They are great, though a little cold, from sundown to 10pm. Once you go out after 10pm, you run the risk of finding people having sex in the park.

3. Don't leave anything valuable in the car. Finding your broken car window at 9am is not much fun (not my car, MK's). We thought the thief got away with just a charger for the GPS unit and a pack of cigarettes, but then yesterday afternoon I was walking Mondo and two blocks from home I found two bags I recognized from the car. The thief dumped them when he/she realized little boy's underwear and dog park toys probably wouldn't catch a good rate on the streets.

4. Add ten minutes to my previous driving time estimates. However, if there is a ton of terrible traffic, don't go at all. On Friday I sat in traffic for two hours. Two freaking hours. On the plus side, I listened to the Black Keys album twice and played some awesome Scrabble words. Don't high-horse me about cell phone use while driving. If you have not moved in five minutes, you are really just parked.

5. I live in the Foster-Powell neighborhood. I don't really know what this means, yet, but there is a library just down the street and a park at the end of the block.

6. Though it was one of the selling points of moving, I'm finding that having a backyard is awesome. Mondo gets to pose for super cute pictures and I get to sit outside and drink my coffee while he does his business.




7. Sharing a house with a 3 year-old is a learning experience for both Mondo and I. Wiener (the turtle) is adjusted, though I think I am a bad owner that I did not notice IK (said 3 year old) put Mondo's toy frog in the turtle tank. I am positive that Wiener cuddled with said frog for a day or so before I realized what was going on. In fact, when I changed the turtle's water one morning, he was laying on top of the frog.

8. I've figured out how to get more sleep and to manage my time. Because there is more space and because I am by and large not responsible for the majority of the day to day operations of this house, I find that I have a lot less stress. It has been so easy to spend the morning drinking coffee and reading and then crafting or writing in the afternoon. I can't explain the difference, but I'm doing the things I wanted to be doing on unemployment. I set up a crafting and painting spot in the garage. I'm writing more. A weight has been lifted. I am not worried about money (as much), I'm keeping organized (for the most part), and Mondo is pretty happy (hello Seeley). I do miss living with AA, but I also think, because we have similar personalities and we are both unemployed, it is easy for us to feed off each other's dark thoughts and there was no motivation to be productive.

9. I don't need soda! I didn't really learn this in the past two weeks, but I have not been keeping soda in the house and therefore am not drinking it. Yay.


(I posted a followup to the bully blog. click here to read the post.)

Things I am Eminently Qualified to Do: What My Resume Won't Tell You

What my resume WILL tell you:

my name, address and phone number.
a series of jobs I've held
my education
my references (upon request)

What my resume WILL NOT tell you:

I got skillz. mad skillz.

prolific reader
scrabble lover
bingo caller
mediocre knitter
postmortem care giver
pig groomer
aebleskiver chef
walker
lover of Jane Austen
laugher
not-a-crier
gut buster
driver
daughter
friend
babysitter
beach comber
organizer
patriot
spreadsheet whore
amateur detective
bossy-pants-in-chief
creative crafter
dog walker


Yes I have awesome computer and customer service skills. I can supervise. I can project lead.

But more importantly....

I will always have a book recommendation.
I'm a celebrity news hound.
I will set up a Pandora station that will knock your socks off.
I will organize office parties.
I will gladly happy hour.
I will be your Barney Stinson.
I will bake you brownies and brew you coffee.
I have the world's cutest dog.
I can make a diorama out of rulers and paperclips.
I can dance a jig, cook a fig and light your cig.

Oh please, please, I want to find a fun job that let's me be me.

Reflections and Ruminations of the Daily Life of Bryanne R. Hoeg

This morning I woke up very groggy and thought, very briefly, that my toes were extra hairy as of late and perhaps I should do something to change that. And then, as I was dismissing the idea of doing anything about it today, as i would clearly be too busy doing nothing, I realized it was my dog inching his way slowly out from under the blankets, probably to go in search of his best friend and probable girlfriend Seeley. Or food. Or Seeley and food.

I say probable because at 5 months Mondo is too young to have a girlfriend. They are at that stage in life where they can say they are girlfriend and boyfriend but that just means they sit next to each other at lunch. Which reminds me that I keep meaning to tell Seeley to stop sticking her tongue in Mondo's mouth.

Seeley is a dog, too. Thank god. I don't want Mondo kissing humans. That's gross.

I'd like to tell you a lot of really cool things have happened as of late, but I'm sort of just treading water. My life is really just moments of reading and coffee interspersed with sleep and seeing friends. I've sort of retired from life at the moment. I don't mean that in a turn-your-head-to-the-side-look-concerned-and-say-are-you-okay sort of way. It's not a sad thing. I'm having fun. I'm a lady that lunches. A lady that happy hours. A lady that bowls on Friday nights. A lady that goes to trivia in pubs.

It's just that I've put all the messy parts of life in a big pot and boiled it down to a reduced gravy that I'm currently marinating in. It's quite tasty, but not substantial.

For example, I now have a lot of extra time on my hands that I can dedicate to the following useless endeavors:

1. parsing online scrabble words for tone and hidden meaning.
2. organizing dog toys by size.
3. reading Fox News articles so that I have a reason to be outraged about something.
4. drawing pictures of baby chickens as celebrities.
5. writing love letters to trees.

See. I told you I was having fun.

And now, if you will excuse me, I need to go to the post office to apologize for my dog being an a-hole. More on that another time.

Wherein Bry has favorite things.

NOTICE: This blog was recently edited by a sober Bry that woke up at 4am for work and thought "Did I take a lot of cold medicine last night and also drink a glass of wine and then blog?" Only to check and discover that is exactly what happened.

Oprah ain't the only beyotch who likes things. I like things, too. Lots of things. Things that have arms and legs. Things that sparkle. Things that look like puppies and wiggle around and lick your hands. Okay. Maybe just puppies that do that since I've met some uggohs out there that behave like puppies.

So here is my list of my favorite things right now.

1. Rain boots. My Momster gave me some rain boots and they are amazing. My feet don't get wet. Imagine that! Proper foot attire in rainy weather is necessary.

2. My super hot friends that have been super awesome to me as of late. Kooter is so pretty and funny and nice. The Beast read my minds and got me a haircut at Dosha! AM and MK and pie. RO who reminded me over the past month how much I appreciate her amazing support even though we don't see each other much. LL for checking on me when I was sick and inviting me to spend Christmas Day with her (though I didn't because I slept on the couch with the sick sweats rather than infecting the public). CJ for being my Scrabble buddy.

3. AA for being a great addition to my Partly Cloudy Hobo Express and a good roommate. He did the dishes and bought toilet paper today. I was about to resort to napkins, but I'm a class act.

4. This yummy bottle of wine and Trader Joe's for growing the grapes and hiring little xxxxxx (this word removed due to my liberal guilt and possible racist content) to stomp the grapes into some super delicious wine with their tiny little nubby feet. Did I mention this wine was delicious. Did I say something racist? Crap.

5. Books.

6. Wine. (I believe I already mentioned this).

7. A nice almost-man-friend who thus far is not mad at me for being a commitment-phobic beyotch. (I am not a beyotch).

8. Wine. (Again?)

9. My recovering health.

10. Wine. (Oh Jesus).

Wherein Bry hates more stuff.

More things that I hate.


Peppermint
White Chocolate
"No offense, but..."
Animals in clothes
Bus fare
Jumping jacks
Underwire
Fox News
Pants with no butt pockets
Riddles
Story Problems
Physics
Almonds
"This is America and in America..."

Wherein Bry is the mother.

If you recall, in my birthday blog, I mentioned some craziness on my birthday evening. This was way past the super delicious Thai. Way past the drinks at Moon & Sixpence. But just before the hangover.

Not to be confused with The Hangover, the movie. While Portland is pretty exciting, this ain't no Vegas story. About as exciting as it gets is (SPOILER ALERT) too many whiskey sours, a penis shaped donut, drinks with some baby homos, and me with a memory of it all.

The real point of this blog is to talk about me being WAY TOO OLD FOR THIS SHIT (WTOFTS), something JY and I said to each other with increasing frequency over the night.

Sadly, it was like being in a car on an icy road. You know you need to apply the brakes, but are afraid doing so will send you into a tailspin. It seemed like a better idea to ride it out and not risk the wreck.

I like a lot of things about my life. They include but are not limited to the following:

- My Snuggie

- Sleeping a lot

- Napping almost as much as sleeping

- Drinking coffee

- Watching movies

- Pride & Prejudice

- Having an acceptable (socially, bladder-ly, liver-ly, economically) amount of drinks with people I know and/or people I'm interested in learning more about.

They do not include the following:

- Not getting enough sleep

- Drinking too much

While I absolutely had a great time on my birthday, and love and appreciate those who made it happen, I know that I am now WTOFTS:

- Staying out to last call, especially when I know I have to be up early

- People who look 12, have IDs that say 21, but act 15 and talk like they are 30.

- People who are 22 and in open relationships because their wife wants a girlfriend.

- Bars full of people of the above 12:21:15:30 ratio.

- Bars that are really clubs

- Bars that do not serve food

WTOFTS


Funny story, I wrote this blog the day after my birthday while I was on the bus to meet SE and head to the coast. Last night I finished season 4 of How I Met Your Mother in which there was an episode about Ted being "too old for this shit." This is a direct quote of Danny Glover in Lethal Weapon. Seriously?

I guess this means I AM THE MOTHER. Ted, I am waiting for your call.

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 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.

Wherein Bry cried.

Today I cried. At work. It was absolutely horrible. No one actually saw me crying, but the thing about crying is that you can't hide the traces of it. It's on your face and in the sound of your voice for hours.

At first I wasn't even sure I was crying. I thought I was sniffly which is something that happens sometimes the day after I've gone out drinking (not an inappropriate amount of drinking, but a departure from my normal 1-2 drinks over an extended period of time). And then I realized I was sniffly because water is leaking out of my eyeballs.

At this point, I head to the bathroom where I hide out for a bit before getting over it and going back to work.

It is a very long and stupid story that I don't want to delve into the details of but can be summed up in these main points.

1. I am now most definitely single (not a cry-worthy occurrence because as I said, "You can't dump me! I'm dumping you"). But being told you are mean and inconsiderate is never a great thing when you already feel like an asshole because ...

2. Some other people in my life told me I'm rude and selfish.

3. I miss my family and they miss me.

4. I don't like it when people who are important to me are sad and I can't fix it.

Here are my responses.

1. I am not mean nor selfish. I was honest and blunt.

2. I'm pretty sure I always miss my family and they miss me, too.

3. Crying helped none of the above because none of it is fixed and crying just made me feel worse.

Also, I realized today that I am so busy being independent that I forget that it is actually a perfectly normal and acceptable human quality to rely on other people.

Side note: my spell checker changes Asshole to Ashley. This makes me laugh every time. Not because I know any Ashleys that are assholes, but because I'm immature.

I cry so rarely, I thought I should own up to it. And now you know how to make me cry.

Call me an Ashley, make me feel completely incompetent and stupid and then mean-girl me out of your life.

Boom. Done.

Wherein Bry does not operate on Hoeg time.

Hoegs take pride in being Hoegs much like a nation takes pride in its identity. Correction, Hoeg men take pride in being Hoegs to the point of a World Cup soccer riot. Hoeg women say "Eh" and shrug their shoulders.

Part of being a Hoeg is a phenomenon called "Hoeg Time" which should not be confused with Stoner Time, but is pretty much the same thing.

I do not operate on Hoeg time. In fact, Hoeg Time causes my blood to boil.

Here is a prime example of Hoeg Time.

JH texted me early on a Saturday morning to see if I wanted to float the river. MaH would hurry over and pick me up. We would get gas and pick up TH and TH's boat before getting back to meet everyone and then go float.

MaH picked me up. We get gas and buy three more tubes as we have also forced my cousins CH, PH, and RH to accompany us on this journey. We see TH at the Three Mile Store and say, Hey! we were coming to get you. He goes home and when we arrive 20 minutes later, he is out in the yard shooting the breeze with the neighbor. Then he helps his neighbor move some sprinklers. Then he pours himself a cocktail (this is what he calls the Pepsi he drinks constantly). Then he sits down and smokes. Then he spends about 10 minutes trying to decide what to bring to float (here is a hint: shorts, river shoes, maybe a hat, and get in the damn truck).

By this time, MaH (who is a new member of the family and also not on Hoeg Time) and I are exchanging What the Hell? glances.

We manage to make it out of there in just under an hour, a minor miracle.

Then we get back to JH and MaH's and discover the children messing around in the yard in dresses and not at all ready. The tubes are flat and no one is ready to go. MaH was gone for two hours and nothing got done. Then we stand around while they all smoke and drink soda.

Finally, I start being Bry the Bossy Dictator and make everyone get their shit together and we manage to leave the house almost 2 hours later.

In real person time, one might want to be on the river before 3pm so that one is not still floating the river 4 hours later when the weather is much cooler. When its not approaching dusk, and when you don't have to wait by the side of the road while someone drives back to the float start point to get the cars.

A person can accomplish a goal like this by managing their time, hurrying, and being productive.

I would like to say this is an isolated incident, but this is pretty normal for my family.

I do not like this Sam I Am. I do not like Green Eggs and Ham.

I try to be on time and when I know I can't predict my schedule, or the bus, I either make arrangements for that and/or explain this to others who may be affected.

"I get off at 7 and will meet you at 8. There is a chance I could be a few minutes late."

I've developed the ability to be ready for all kinds of environments and activities within minutes. I'm fairly flexible and do like to be spontaneous, but when there is a goal in mind, I like to "Get shit done."

I am very independent. I don't depend on anyone and have no defendants that I need to consider. There is no "Let me tell so and so the plan." I am so and so.

I like decisions.

I like plan and action.

I like completing tasks.

I like structure.

I like getting shit done.

This seems to be in direct conflict with "being a Hoeg."

I like being a Hoeg.

Go figure.

Wherein Bry has more of the same.

I felt a little guilty about the blog I'm about to launch into. Like I didn't want to subject you to the awfulness and self-absorbtion you are about to read. But then I decided THIS IS A BLOG. It is the height of self-absorbtion to keep a blog in the first place and actually quite an exhibition to blog at all.

So suck it up bitches (and Mom) because this is about to happen.

Last night I made a list of all the things about me that make me completely undateable. Not the physical, emotional or psychological things. But more tangible things.

1. I don't have a bed.

2. I'm very poor.

3. I'm not tidy. I live in a nest like a bird or a rat. Probably more of a rat. A rat bird or a bird-like rat.

4. I don't take anything seriously.

5. I can be a bitch.

6. I'm very bossy and not in the good kind of way.

That is pretty much as far as I got before I was too sleepy to go on.

I realize that you are probably composing your response to these statements and while I welcome your input, I want you to know that I don't feel at all bad about this six-pointed list.

Some of these items are easily fixed and the others are what make me Bry.

In not completely unrelated news, today I realized I have not referred to myself as a spinster in weeks and this made me very sad. I've also had no time to knit, snuggie-fest, or watch Pride & Prejudice. I'm inconsolable.