So. July 17, 2013Posted by brianna in Verbosity.
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So, I’ve owned my own business for a year now.
I am very tired.
But, I am also optimistic and somewhat excited for the future, which is much more than you can say about my previous jobs, and we’re about to move on to some very exciting expanding things, which is both terrifying and comforting, so onward!
My 30′s are starting out…not too badly, I think.
Square Footage April 22, 2008Posted by brianna in Verbosity.
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I am slowly getting more frustrated at the word ‘need’.
I.E. – ‘Don’t wait until you have a kid to realize you need about 2k sq. feet (that can include finished basement) for two adults and a baby.’
(I was researching house square footage trends. Not babies.)
WTF. TWO THOUSAND square feet for two and a half people, one of which is barely mobile? How the hell is that ‘need’?
I currently live in 1100 square feet. It’s very roomy for two people – we even have a spare room that will eventually be an office. The only impediment I can see with this floorplan for a three person family is having only one bathroom, but even that can be worked around.
How on earth can three people efficiently use 2000 square feet? Are they aware they can only inhabit about three square feet at any one time, personally? Is baby really going to feel hampered by not having a formal living room in which to entertain his or her playdates while also having a more casual romper room for closer friends? I would think the kid would prefer a few more toys instead of two extra bedrooms, a den, and the bonus bill of heating and cooling it all.
Four bedrooms, three bathrooms, living, dining, foyer, kitchen, ‘nook’, covered porch, utility room, garage. Who the hell is going to keep all that clean? Not to mention, running across 1200 square feet after a kid is a lot less work than running across /2000/ square feet. In 1970, a family of four could live in a 1500 square foot house – what happened? Why do three people suddenly ‘need’ this vast expanse of energy-hogging, time-consuming house that will require more personal involvement to keep clean, habitable, and welcoming?
I, personally, would like more time to enjoy my living room, rather than sinking all of that time into picking up an additional three bedrooms, two baths, and huge living room. I can’t even imagine the time it would take to sweep and vacuum it all.
I’m sure some of our current economic situation is to blame on this skewed perception of ‘need’. Why not use all that money you’re saving cutting out the superfluous 800 square feet, and invest in hardwood floors, skylights, energy efficient windows and high end, durable appliances? You’d still end up with a smaller monthly payment, smaller energy bills, and would probably emerge with a higher resale value at the end of it all.
Though I’m willing to bet, if more people invested in creative use of space and quality components rather than just gross square footage, they would be hard pressed to leave their innovative, creative, personalized home for a larger house.
He went to Jared! February 5, 2008Posted by brianna in Verbosity.
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THESE ARE THE MOST INSIPID COMMERCIALS EVER. Oh, how I hate them. Yes, the best way to show your everlasting love is to go the the Wal-Mart of jewelry and buy an overpriced something every other woman in the world has! Because every girl loves the ‘journey diamond necklace’ her mother, best friend, in-laws and boss have! Yes!
They’re not intended to be realistic, I know, but really. If I heard some woman exclaim ‘You went to Jared!’ in a restaurant, I would not jealously hiss the name of the jewelry store to my boyfriend. I would ask him to forever boycott the store.
Also, why is there not a more appealing term than ‘boyfriend’? It’s good when you’re seventeen or whatever, but at 25 it’s a bit dated. ‘Partner’ is too PC, ‘SO’…no one knows what that means, and it sounds silly in conversation, and hell if I will ever refer to someone as ‘my man’. No, no, no. Someone, quick. Coin a term.
Google Stalking October 2, 2007Posted by brianna in Verbosity.
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Who is Googling my name? What Brianna Flynn are you trying to find?
Ego-Tastic, but I went for quite a while with no name-googling popping up on my radar, and now there is one a day!
Google person, are you lost?
Worst Day of the Year! September 28, 2007Posted by brianna in Verbosity.
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Yesterday, a coworker gets fired in the middle of the day.
Hell breaks loose in office, as noone knows how to do what said coworker did, and said job is an essential part of the office workflow.
Today, get to work, more chaos. Faxing things to other offices, constant phonecalls, and I want to stab myself in the eye.
Client calls, we lost their order, or rather someone did as I was on vacation when it was lost.
Said client is one of the few who consistantly sends orders over in this horribly slow period, so we’re fucked.
A crew is called, the job is time consuming, it takes him an hour to get there. It’s 4:00.
I have a flight at 8:10.
I babysit the order as long as I can, and get to my house at 6.
On the way to the house, my coworker calls. She has my debit card – I forgot to get it back from her.
I take the fastest shower known to man, get dressed, throw things in suitcase. It’s 6:30, I have time.
Get call, need to take laptop with me. Wait for laptop.
I receive the laptop, at 6:40? Ish? Throw into suitcase, jump in the car, on the road.
Someone is hauling a boat down US 1
Someone is hauling boat down US 1, and trying to merge onto 595.
I get stuck behind the cars behind the boat for 15 minutes.
I finally get to the airport. There is no parking.
I find parking.
Parking is a 10 minute walk from any terminal, but I find my way to my terminal, run to checkin, see sign ‘Must check in 30 minutes prior to flight!’
I have made it!
I try to check in.
‘International flights cannot check in here!’
There is noone at gate.
I have missed my flight.
I cannot get out of parking, coworker has my debit card.
And, my phone has died.
I am fucked.
The Hipster Movement of Excitement September 19, 2007Posted by brianna in Verbosity.
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I’m sorry. But is that not the most awesome phrase ever? I need it on a messenger bag. Or, perhaps, a button on the shoulder strap of that messenger bag.
Back to reading about restaurant hoising and deep tissue memories and other charming bits of WTFery.
Monica: What was this sentence originally?
Joey: Oh, “They are warm, nice people with big hearts.”
Chandler: And that became, “They are humid, prepossessing homo sapiens…with full-sized aortic pumps.”
Yes. Exactly like that.
Facebook July 28, 2007Posted by brianna in Verbosity.
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You know, Facebook is a really remarkable thing.
And I’m not speaking of its social aspects, or its codebase, or its rabid following or any of those other things that come up when it happens to be in the news. It’s remarkable to me in a very specific way – it’s let me see people I used to know in a very different light.
I was not a happy high-schooler. Then again, I think if you asked any person at random their opinion of High School, they’d echo that statement. My particular difficulty was social – I’d moved from a school of one hundred to a school of thousands, from a religious (very religious) school to an entirely secular one. And even in that small school I didn’t make friends easily. I was the book girl. We all know one of those. Friends were such an effort, they were exhausting. I didn’t know what they wanted of me or what I could expect from them and when what we wanted didn’t exactly match up (“Swings!” “No, running in the field!” “AUGH!”) it was unbelievably frustrating to me.
So of course landing in High School didn’t change anything. I saw the same groups of people from class to class, saw their groups of friends, heard about their weekends, and was both jealous and apathetic. On one hand, I wanted to have this in-joke, friend’s house, pool party life…and on the other was completely unwilling to change or approach anyone on the (in hindsight, phenomenally naive) idea that if they wanted to talk to me, they would have come to me and doing otherwise would have bothered them.
As a result, I don’t (and didn’t) speak to anyone from high school regularly at all. I’ve seen only three since it ended. In my mind, many of them are still those 17 year old recollections – he is aloof and good at math, she is perfect and knows how to dress. Not people, just names and faces.
Then, there is Facebook. And lists of interests, musical tastes, pictures – and suddenly some of these people become people instead of inscrutable faces full of mystery. Classmates I never would have spoken to casually are people I wish I could invite over or talk to on the phone or start a collaborative website with. They’ve lost all their power to intimidate me. And, bizarrely, this shocks me. (And, I’m sure, would shock them if they knew I’d spent weeks at 16 agonizing over whether or not it was appropriate to say ‘hello’ to them between classes. My eventual conclusion was ‘no’, go figure.)
Of course, it’s too late for all of that.
I’m just left here wondering – how stupid was I? I should have realized this long before a social web application.
2:00 PM June 16, 2007Posted by brianna in Verbosity.
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Wet hair, sitting on the couch, staring dull-eyed at the heaps of clothing to be folded. The washing machine is re-rinsing a load of towels I’ve let sit too long – dank smelling towels will only compound my problem.
The washer lulls, and I glance up, surprised to see the city outside my window is cloaked in fog. Or, rather, a rain so heavy it had the same camouflaging effect.
In that moment, I hear chimes…my alarm clock. It is 2 PM and I have one hour left.
Numbers Stations May 28, 2007Posted by brianna in Verbosity.
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Alas, while reading up on the Berlin Wall (It’s funny how much World History I’m enjoying these days – in High School, it was my least favorite subject.) I came across the phenomena of Numbers Stations. And the unknown has completely unnerved me.
Basically, starting from around World War I and continuing to this day, various short wave radio stations broadcast series of numbers in a variety of languages – English and Spanish are heard through the US – Russian, German, English and others throughout Europe. Most of the stations are of completely indeterminate origin, and the meanings of the messages are totally unknown, though there has been one case of messages being intercepted by US intelligence and used in a case against Cuba. They continue on set schedules, broadcasting series after series of numbers to persons unknown. Some have shut down since the fall of the Berlin Wall, while new stations have appeared – activity has actually increased since the fall of the iron curtain.
It seems very innocuous at face value – the commonly accepted theory is that various countries send coded messages to undercover agents using these shortwave stations. The messages can be decoded without the need for advanced technology, and can be intercepted with devices that are fairly simple and unlikely to arouse suspicion.
Regardless, the secrecy involved and the sound of disembodied, robotic voices sending messages from parts unknown to persons unknown makes me very uneasy, especially when I consider that, at this moment, many are being transmitted and with the proper equipment I could listen to messages clearly not intended for civilian ears.
Like many people, I dislike the unknown. But this isn’t just the unknown – it’s the possibility of a sinister, secret world being operated around me, and at any moment one of those messages might change my life, as I know it. It is totally beyond my control – unknown, unstoppable, unrecognized and denied by any government or agency (it is actually illegal to listen to these broadcasts in the UK), possibly slowly sliding the world into some form or structure I won’t like – or can’t be a part of. I don’t like knowing that these radio waves are seeping through my house, perhaps being listened to by someone in a building I can see from my balcony, to what purpose? I’ll never know. (One of the few traceable stations has been confirmed to be coming from Miami.)
There’s nothing I can do to control or eliminate things like this, so I’ll eventually learn to push them to the back of my mind…it’s still unsettling to realize that there are still so many unexplained activities quietly operating out of sight of the world’s general population that have the potential to impact that population on a grand scale.
Maybe in a hundred years this will all be obsolete, and various curiosities will be sated.
To hear a typical ‘numbers broadcast’ overlaid over a video of the former Berlin Wall, click here
I’m now going to sit here and quietly drink wine with all the lights on, frowning through paranoia. =p
I am a bad person. May 27, 2007Posted by brianna in Verbosity.
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Ways in which I am bad.
1. See: last time posted. Ouch. I suck.
2. I have a real, genuine fondness/fascination with the ‘Bring it On’ movies. I’m not sure if it’s the flippy turny, or the weird pseudo-witty banter, or how 50% of the actresses remind me of my sister, but really. There was a Marathon today and I was THERE.
3. I had a shopping list completed, in my head, last night. It was complete and perfect and encompassed everything I needed to complete a thorough housecleaning. And now all I can remember is ‘Steel wool’ and ‘no Choxie’.
4. I have resolved, seven times this week, to go to the gym and do something like exercise. I have yet to venture down.
And so forth. Bad, bad, bad.
In other news, my house is very clean and I am sitting here with the window open, praising myself for good couch placement and re-making my Target list (in my head…one of the items on my list is a pad of paper). There really is nothing like sitting in a clean house in front of an open window. Everyone should try this! The only thing marring the perfection is the acrid, annoying stinging of oven-cleaning fumed.
Note to self – clean oven more often.
At least my nails are still clicky. Amazing.