Tuesday, February 23, 2010



I just realized I've done two posts now without mentioning the basics. What are the basics you might ask? I am glad that you asked!

My name is Brianna. I am 5' 3/4" tall. Let's just say I'm 5' 1." That's close enough. Everyone happy? Good. I don't really mind being short. I'm used to stretching up to reach things. I'm used to getting chairs and ladders. I'm used to asking big, strapping men (haha) for help. The only things that bother me are:

(A) Finding clothes I like that fit me right with out alterations. For awhile I only wore jeans from Abercrombie kids. Size 14. But recently my shape has changed and I can now fit into jeans from Abercrombie and Fitch. Size 0S. But I digress. We can talk about clothes later. Or never. Whatever.

(B) People who are shorter than me. They bother me. They startle me. I'm not used to looked down at people. It's disorientating. I really emphasize with my beagle Chance. He is terrified of dogs that are smaller than him. He saw a Chihuahua puppy once. His eyes got all huge, his ears pressed down, he ran away whenever he saw it coming.

(C) I will never be allowed to be a contestant on America's Next Top Model. Not that that's a goal of mine or anything. I just like the show OK! It's really a guilty pleasure thing.

I weigh around 115 lbs. I'm not sure why you need to know that. Girls aren't supposed to like talking about their weight right? Well, I just kind of painted myself as an Abercrombie-and-Fitch-wearing-America's-Next-Top-Model-watching kind a girl so I can see why you might think I wouldn't mention it. But seriously, that is just one part of the mulit-faceted gem that is me!

I mostly get my ideas about fashion from my younger sister Lindsey. She probably is the Abercrombie-and-Fitch-wearing-America's-Next-Top-Model-watching kind a girl. I think she's got more depth than the majority of those though.

So yeah, I have a younger sister. I also have two younger brothers. My parents got divorced when I was five. Save the obligatory apologies though. I barely even remember them being together. I have one odd memory of them fighting and me and my sister hiding in our room while I hit a Barbie baseball bat against a wall to try to get them to stop. But that's about it. Everything else is two Christmases! Though the being shared and having to drive stuff between two houses was frustrating. I'll talk about that later too.

So my two younger brothers are probably the most adorable boys on the face of this Earth. Zach is 3 and Nick is 1. He actually just turned 1 on President's Day. Next President of the United States of America? Possibly. He has the blond-haired blue-eyed thing going for him right now. And Zach has chocolate eyes and hair. They are my dad's kids with my step mom. My dad and my step mom have been together since I was 6ish.

Ok, moving right along. I have a grandma and a grandpa on my dad's side. He also has a younger sister and a younger brother. My uncle was in prison for years. Something like arson and attempted murder. I don't really know the details about that. But anyway, he's always the one cracking jokes at family events. My aunt is currently fighting cancer. Apparently she managed to get lung cancer even though she has never smoked. But as far as I know it is not the fatal kind.

My mom's side is hazy. She has five sisters and one brother. I don't even know all of their names. I don't think I've ever even met all of them. Maybe when I was a baby or a small child. But I really have very few memories of them. Her brother got like a scholarship to NASA space camp when he was twelve. This uncle of mine is in the military. He lives in Germany and is so high up in Intel that he is one of those "If I told you I would have to kill you" kind of guys. My mom has had FBI people come to her house and investigate her relationship with him. Serious stuff. We don't talk to him. We're not allowed to contact him.

Weird though, huh? One criminal uncle and one military genius. Strange how the world works.

I only have a couple memories of my mom's mom. It doesn't really feel right calling her grandma. I have one memory of her standing outside a house crossing her arms as my mom drives angrily away. I can't even see her face. My next memory is of her sick in a hospital bed as she dies from cancer. A withered old woman with tubes coming out of her carrying away greenish-black fluids. Her mouth would gape open and shut but she wouldn't speak. At least not that I remember. There was also a horrible smell. Something I don't think I can describe. I remember wanting her to die. I just wanted her to go away. I didn't have feelings for her. I didn't know her. She was making my mom cry and I just wanted her gone. I feel guilty for wanting that. But I was a child. I just wanted our lives to be normal again.

My mom's father is apparently a short Cajun man you can hardly understand. I get my shortness from him. (See it all goes full cycle) A man I have never meet. In fact, the fact that he is in fact a short Cajun man whose speech is difficult to understand is everything I know about him.

Now I have depressed myself talking about my mom's family that I don't know. She's "the city folk who made it" but she doesn't talk about the past with me. I'm just city folk.

Happier things... happier things...

I am engaged to my soulmate. His name is Eric. We have been together since we were in high school. (This is where you say that drawn out 'aww') We live together in a 2 bedroom apartment. I will tell you all about him later. Right now I'm feeling emotionally exhausted. We have a cat named Lola. I have a poem with Lola in it. I will post it when I figure out how to get the formatting right on here.

Well, that was the basics. And a bit more than just the basics. Whatever. That is all for now. I'm going to go watch Internet TV.


No comments:

Post a Comment