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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.)

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.

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

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