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Apparently… June 23, 2006

Posted by brianna in Verbosity.
4 comments

I should be writing things that are stylishly dangerous. Or at least stylish. I’m not sure if writing in and of itself can be dangerous unless I’m writing bomb recipes or some sort of bizarre manifesto, so I’m not going to go for that. Stylish is sort of hard to achieve, too.

So, I’ll just be writing things. Hi.

Wow. So, I was reading me today, and noticed I hadn’t typed the words and paragraphs for over a month! How can this be? Well, this is how it could be.

Presenting: My Schedule
A Brianna Flynn production.

Monday
Gallery: Off
Audit: 11pm-7am

Tuesday
7am-10am – No work!
10am-2pm – Gallery
2pm-11pm – Sleep!
11pm-7am – Audit!

Wednesday
7am-10am – No work!
10am-2pm – Gallery
2pm-11pm – Sleep!
11pm-7am – Audit!

Thursday
7am-10am – No work!
10am-2pm – Gallery
2pm-11pm – Sleep!
11pm-7am – Audit!

Friday
7am-10am – No work!
10am-6pm – Gallery
6pm-11pm – Sleep!
11pm-7am – Audit!

Saturday
7am-10am – No work!
10am-6pm – Gallery
6pm-11pm – Sleep!

Sunday
Sleep. All day. Seriously.

So, yeah. I’m lucky if I’m not sleepwalking by Sunday. By July, my weekly hours increase from the 68 I’m working now to a solid 80. Wow.

Thankfully, I won’t be here in July.

What? Brianna is moving again? Didn’t she just move? What was with all that crap earlier on about being a regular and walking around town and liking her job and such?

Yes, I am moving once again, back to Florida, a state I am not too fond of. An interesting chain of events has once again led me to pack everything I own and drive 2000 miles back in the direction I came two months ago.

***

And now it is tomorrow and my train of thought has derailed (hur hur hur)

Anyhow, yes, moving to Florida, putting all my possessions in my car once more and driving 2000 miles south just in time for hurricane season. Some might question my sanity, but I am firmly convinced that this will be absolutely fabulous, if only for a year. Trading two jobs for one, an increasingly loud living space for one with a kitchen, one water view for another. Life here has gotten increasingly stressful, with interrupted sleep and an increase in paperwork, influenced just slightly by itchy ‘last day of school’ impatience.

Like right now. I am frustrated with this block of text because I cannot possibly articulate this feeling between my shoulder-blades and the irritation of slowly, slowly departing and wanting to leave right. now. immediately without this fuss and fumble and slow agonizing separation. And I hate not being able to put things into words, as that is one of the few things I consistently feel I have a firm grasp of.

Which reminds me of something else, actually. I’ve recently shied away from actually giving this URL to people I’ve known. It’s not necessarily shyness, and not entirely insecurity…more just a general awareness of a divide. The Brianna-on-paper is not Brianna-in-IMs or Brianna-in-person or Brianna-in-the-car and I am overly conscious of that. I’m not sure how other people will blend this typing and rambling about nonsense into their overall perception of me. And then I feel supremely stupid for even worrying about it – really, who cares? Of course, the obvious answer is that I care, or this paragraph wouldn’t even exist. I think it’s because I put so much importance on the written word and (privately, secretly) think highly of my ability to put together a sentence, so owning up to these thousands of words is a little off-putting.

I’m sure I will eventually get over it.

In other news, I really hate the commercial for the 18 hour bra. Where the thirty-something (Forty-something?) woman is dancing around in what I’m guessing is blue underwear (but who would wear a matching bright blue silk shorts/top set? Under their clothing? Why?) She’s looking coyly into the camera and declaring that, in 18 hours, she could take her husband to dinner….in Milan. And I’m sure the creators of this commercial were going for ‘middle aged woman, still alluring, still thinking of creative ways to have fun and spark romance!’ all I’m getting is ‘The blandest woman in the universe wears this bra and wears the most boring underwear I can possibly imagine’. Even the advertised bra is distressingly ugly – a behemoth white padded thing with pseudo-lace overlay. It’s huge and band-like. Everything about the actress in this commercial screams ‘middle of the road’. Were I forty-something, I would avoid that particular bra at all costs.

In the same vein, KY – what is up with your crap commercials? These feature the same sort of attractively bland middle aged people lounging in predictably upper middle class surroundings. The woman has a KY product – usually a warming lotion (something I’ve never seen as sexy…perhaps ‘for a nice massage that puts Brianna to sleep’, but sexy?). She seductively wanders into the room where her husband is doing something bland, say, reading the paper. She then reads the description of a product, pretending to ignore him, ending with, say, ‘A gentle warming sensation’. The man looks up as if this is actually titillating, and they smirk and wander off, where you see a brief glimpse of her getting a shoulder massage. Now, where in the world will a man rush to the bedroom at the mention of a ‘gentle warming sensation’? At this age, generally you find men looking at twenty year olds with breast implants and wishing for threesomes, not getting really excited about giving their wives a back massage with a ‘gentle warming lotion’ so they can then have gentle, loving sex in the missionary position. You’re forty and have been married for 15 years. This is no longer that interesting. Nice, perhaps, but not ‘let me put down this paper I was reading, I am not about to miss these gentle warming sensations!!!’

When I am forty, I hope that my weekends are full of baby oil and rope.

That is all.