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I was going to make a Game of Thrones reference here but that only makes it worse

30 Jul

My brother once argued with me about going to a movie together, claiming that people would assume that we were boyfriend/girlfriend instead of brother/sister. I poo pooed the idea on the premise that anyone with eyes could read our body language and see that there is nothing romantic there, besides the fact that he’s ten years younger than I am and annoying as fuck half of the time.  But I forgot the universal truth that people are stupid. At home this wouldn’t really matter because any attractive men in this town are long since married or on their third divorce. When you choose to stay in your small hometown after high school/college, you generally get married young, mostly out of boredom would be my guess. (Unless your name is Carrie, in that particular case you married your soul mate and you are damn lucky.)

Anyway, the point being I thought my brother was being ridiculous and even I get bored with going to things alone so I wore him down and now we often see nerdy movies together. (Where I have been known to punch him in the ear when he gets more annoying than usual.)

Then we all went to Florida on a family vacation and the argument was turned on its head. While getting out of Space Mountain at Disney Hayden, my nephew, was referred to as our child. (Whaaaaa?!) My brother and I looked at each other in horror but said nothing because really, how could you possibly make this situation better? By embarrassing the poor kid running the ride?
As a girl who is as single as single gets, I do enjoy the occasional flirtation that happens away from home but I was being cockblocked by my own brother! That is a very strange feeling and I don’t like it. In the three instances of mild flirt that I got up to while in Florida, all three happened when I was alone or at least half a dozen steps away from anyone in my family. I’m not sure which is more distressing, that I look married or that I look like I would be married to my little brother. Oi.

Needless to say, the geeky thing I hopefully have planned to go to in St. Louis will be sans brother. (He wants to go but I told him that was only happening if he brought a friend along. At least then someone could assume that I could handle two twenty-something’s. And that’s better? Maybe? Who knows.)

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Too long for Twitter, not long enough for its own post (or story of my writing)

25 Jun

I took my nephew to see Man of Steel this past weekend and they were having trouble with the projector so it started about 20 minutes late. While we were sitting there waiting, staring at a blank screen, my nephew leans over and whispers, “This movie is awesome! Thanks a lot for taking me, Aunt Bri!” He is such a shit. I adore him.

I have an unimaginable amount of useless knowledge rattling around in my brain, but don’t ask me where South Dakota is, apparently I delete states that I consider unimportant. (This happened and my mother was mortified.)

I was never one of those girls who had obsessive crushes on celebrities or even boys I went to school with. I didn’t want to know anything about a band because that would have potentially ruined the music for me. I had an actual opportunity to meet a celebrity that I admired and enjoyed and I turned it down because I didn’t want to take the chance that the reality of him would ruin my movie watching, but if I were to run into a certain British actor all of that caution would go out the window. Hello. I am a 36 year old woman and I have my first crush on a celebrity. Were we to meet, it would be love, I’m telling you. (Mostly kidding. Mostly.)

In three weeks I will be in Florida, geeking my little heart out over Disney, Harry Potter, Marvel superheroes, and movie magic. I am so excited to be taking my first vacation in four years that I can hardly contain myself. If you follow me on Instagram or Facebook that week, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.

Let’s ramble, shall we?

30 May

Twice in as many days I’ve sang at full voice driving down a country road and it was joyful but my voice strained and pulled. I realized it has been too long since I’ve felt like I was able to be full voice, at my full self. Too many weeks spent holding back and walking softly to try to please. And that horrifies me. Makes me hug my dog. And he lets me while his nubbin of a tail wags frantically. Because he loves me. More heart than brains, that one.

I have a nasty sunburn on my back from too many hours spent in full sun working in the yard without sunscreen, like an idiot. But I’m home for more than just a visit since I was 19, sleeping in the bedroom that I left back then. And my 62 year old father has more energy and stubbornness than men half his age and Bogart and I refused to go in before he did, so we both paid the price. Did you know that dogs could get a sunburn? I didn’t either. Bogart is also suffering from bug bites, mosquitos and biting flies have left pink bumps all over him so he’s getting dosed with Benadryl morning and night which seems to be helping, poor pup.

I also have ready access to laundry again, whenever I want, which means all my clothes are clean again within a few days and oh my god, the freaking LUXURY of it all! It turns out I don’t have enough hangers. Huh.

When I moved back in to the L shaped room my sister and I shared as teenagers, we cleaned out the closet that was once hers since our Mom had years ago taken over the one that used to be mine. When I transferred all the clothes Mom had been storing in our old room into my old closet, the bar broke. Broke from the weight of her SECOND closet full of clothing. I come from a family of collectors, people. The only thing stopping them from being hoarders is restricting their collecting to closets and garages. But still. I went right down to my Mom and told her that one (walk in!) closet was surely enough clothes and we were having a rummage sale and the bar trying valiantly to hold up the weight of her clothing had ripped right out of the wall after more than 20 years. Yesterday, I brought down arm loads of clothes for her to look through and brought back up anything she HAD to keep. She got rid of 2/3 of it. Success! My aunt wants me to do the same thing for her. 🙂 It’s hard to see what’s right in front of you sometimes, especially when you can hide it away in a closet. 😉

Storms ripped through the area last Wednesday night and though tornadoes touched down north of town and a few times the sky made me a little nervous, it’s sort of a family tradition to watch it come over the hill and marvel.

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I was shooting every 30 seconds to a minute as the clouds rolled in and built. We didn’t retreat inside until the rain became a downpour. We’re a little nuts. 😉

I’ve been thinking on my new blog name and I thought about all the places I’ve lived in the last few years and the blogs that sprang from those places and I realized that I don’t want my blog’s name to be about where I live anymore. I’ve had 8 addresses since I left home at 19 and I may have 8 more, who knows. Where I live doesn’t define me in life, it shouldn’t define me on the internet. So, now I just need to find the words that define me, or maybe words that mean home to me, whatever that point on the map might be.

Suggestions, of course, are welcome. 😉

Changes and Happenings

22 May

Previously on Chronicles of an Accidental City Girl, I was living in Chicago, walking dogs part time for a living and living with my boyfriend, our dog and three cats.

As of this evening, I am boyfriendless, in Southern Illinois, temporarily living with my parents with a dog and one cat.

A lot has changed, huh?

Things hadn’t been going well with the boyfriend for that last few months but being the optimistic person that I am, I was sticking it out, thinking we would work it out. He was not so optimistic. So. Here I am. And I’m ok. And Bogart loves the country.

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And ADORES my mother. The surprise for all of us (including her) is that she loves him right back. 🙂

Right now, I’m working out my next move, in the meantime I’ll spend some time with family , work on projects, take my nephew to the beach and the pool and enjoy the quiet. I need the quiet. I need to breathe for a while.

Another thing I have to figure out is what to call myself. Not a city girl any more and I’m not sure that I’ll move back to a city, at least not for the foreseeable future. So what do I call myself? Not so citygirl? Citygirl/ Countrygirl? A Girl with her Dog? Bogart and Bacall?  Any other ideas?

 

Thanks for listening,

?

 

p.s. My Chicago phone has been turned off, so if you tried to text or call me, that’s why I haven’t responded. I’ll have a new phone with a new number this week and I’ll text everyone so you’ll have it. 🙂

Going Home

24 Sep

I went home to visit family last weekend on Amtrak and I’ve yet to recover. I keep meaning to get online, but there are new books to read and a couple of projects that I’ve been obsessed with, and there you go. TIME. IT RUNS AWAY FROM ME. Ahem.

In between activities on my family weekend, I was sitting on my parents’ porch in my mom’s Cracker Barrel rocking chair just MARVELING at how quiet it was.

I grew up in the country. Middle of nowhere, spent summers with little clothes on, one neighbor within half a mile, country. And, to me, it was anything but quiet. It’s true that there’s no such thing as silence, insects buzz constantly and birds chirp all year long, mostly from the multitude of birdfeeders my mom has put around the property. And even after I moved to a city for the first time, I still didn’t notice the quiet. But, Chicago is just something altogether different. Between the el, the neighbors, the traffic and sirens, the drunks from the corner bar, I don’t think it’s ever quiet here, at least not on this street, in this neighborhood and you don’t notice, really. You get used to the noise, the energy of the place and for the most part don’t notice too much, but it’s there, in the corner of your mind and until you are sitting on a rocking chair with nothing to hear but the buzzing of insects and the chirping of birds that feels like silence all of a sudden. And you realize how LOUD your life is.

 

Thanks for listening,

citygirl

Playing Tourist

31 Mar

I’m sure many people on the street would mistake me for a tourist with my practically-attached-to-my-face-camera, but I just played the role of one while my parents and nephew were in town…..

My parents came to visit for the first time since we moved 4-5 hours away and used the excuse of my nephew’s spring break to do it. OMG, please shoot me the next time I think it’s a good idea to go to a museum when tons of kids are out of school!! By the third day, I was having panic attacks and dizzy spells and almost went off on someone who worked at the Shedd Aquarium. Instead, I am composing a sternly worded email to send to them. They have an ass-backwards way of doing some things and let’s just say that NO ONE should have to wait in 3 20-30 minute lines to see a movie less than 10 minutes long when it could be easily avoided with a TINY bit of forethought and organization. EVER. Ahem. Getting off soapbox now, on to the small sampling of photos I took the three days they were here.

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jelly fish

fish school

pendulum

chicky baby

thanks for listening,

citygirl

Home Sweet Home

22 Feb

I talked to my Mom today, we talk once or twice a week now that I’m living hundreds of miles away and she asked if I’ve gotten out more since it’s gotten warmer.

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“Warmer than 10 degrees? The high is 36 today and it snowed over night, Mom.”

“Oh, well it was 50 here yesterday”

“I kind of hate you right now.”

She laughed. But the good news is that the Cubs are now selling individual game tickets, so my family can plan their trips to visit this summer around Cardinals/Cubs games. 😉

Don’t worry, I have one Cards t-shirt that I will wear to any game at Wrigley lest someone think I’m actually a Cubs fan. Ick.

I decided to try my hand at making dog food, since the Bog can be a little on the picky side when it comes to kibble but will hoover up any human food that finds its way on the floor. I’ve worked really hard to train him to be more polite during mealtimes, the first time he dripped drool on a favorite skirt while on a date with boyfriendpants I resolved to take it upon myself to teach the beast some manners. And it worked, he is very sweet to ME at meal times, dripping at least a foot away from me at all times, though if you told me a year ago that I would be sharing a pork chop with a drooly bulldog, letting him very carefully take a bite from my own fork, I would have laughed in your face, but here we are…now if I could stop him from taking out his occasional displeasure on my SHOES, I would be so happy. lol

I won’t give out the recipe that I’m starting with since the making your own pet food crowd is a little fanatical, but I’m doing my best to make it as easy and nutritious as possible and if the enthusiasm that Bogart is attacking his bowl is any indication, we are a success so far.

Thanks for listening,

citygirl

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