The Adventures of b-ry

A Blockade, Solitary Confinement, Chagrin, and a few Acronyms.

Forgive me for my absence, I guess one could say I needed sometime alone with my thoughts. One might also say that I, again, had a lack of fruitful thoughtfulness AKA writers block… complete with a blockade synonymous with some walls found only in China, perhaps not visible from space but just as problematic to navigate around.

I must say, solitary confinement with my own thoughts is no picnic, nor is it a situation I would put myself in on my own; this time around I would say I was quite the victim of circumstance.

I’m not entirely sure what my thoughts had to say because I also have a severe case of selective hearing, But I now understand a few things:

Coming full-circle- used to be a saying I didn’t quite get. Did it involve an actual circle; would I be forced to use geometry or was the circle simply a metaphor for something?

I’ve found that the oddest part about my prgress here in the city of precious stones is that the only way I have moved forward was actually by going back to the beginning and embracing where I’ve been and then letting it go and looking solely to the future.

Yesterday or maybe the day before, I caught myself smiling for no reason. I can’t fully explain or adequately articulate what that means for me but I can tell you I haven’t been able to do that in a very long time. Somewhere near the end of my 21st year I lost my ability to be perpetually happy. I could lie and say that life got too complicated or I just became an adult and there was no longer room for me to act in such a way, but I’m not much for lies of such a caliber. So for now we’ll just say it’s one of those things that is “part of growing up.” Nevermind what this life lesson was about; I don’t care to share the details anymore. Though one thing is for sure: they never completely disclose how much these things hurt. I guess I’m just glad I can laugh about it now. I think eventually I’ll look back and simply refer to that period of my life as the dark time.

Much to the chagrin of anyone who had the slightest bit of… whatever it is that causes doubt… I, have made it. My mission to be in and part of a place consisting of precious stones and needles that for some reason point to space, is for now, on course… with the next destination TBA.

-b

PS. Unbeknownst to me, I happened upon something far greater than simply a City of emeralds and untold discoveries…. but who would I be if I shared all the joys I have met and been re-acquainted with? Not myself… Much love.

A Moment of Flight… with an R.. by: b.

That’s rad. I feel really stupid using that word. Out-loud or otherwise. But it really was the only accurate word for the support of a great friend.

Today I think I had one of my very rare moments of Insecurity. I won’t indulge what all the lack of security was about but I’m sure we can imagine what it must be about.Then again, perhaps you can’t. Sucks for you.

“Ugh. I sound bipolar. Sometimes I think I am.” Perhaps not in the Britney-umbrella kind of way but maybe more in a United States of Tara way… though much less extreme and without names for my many faces. Perhaps I need a therapist or better yet I should become one; if only to convince myself that my stresses are somewhat unnecessary. How does that make you feel? Thoughts? Was that a good first try?

Like I said: I’m more than somewhat ridiculous depending on the hour of the day. Oddly enough I think what my issue might be is that I’m bored again. I know right… Ridiculous. How dare I be bored. It’s rather strange. The things I would typically flee from any other day are the same things my life kinda needs right now. I hate to speak the words but I’m getting old and I need certain things in my life. Never mind what those things are if you are anywhere outside the loop but something is missing. But knowing myself all to well I may be far better off with certain things absent.

Just in case you are outside the loop with the way I work… Nothing good can come of my being bored. I buy cars, expensive things, burn bridges left and right and all of this just to be entertained. To get a rise out of someone or something. If that’s not a reason to date me… I don’t know what is... And if all fails to entertain me… I move across towns, across cities and states and even countries. I guess some might flag me as somewhat of a flight-risk.

I’ll just let you chew on that mess… Bedtime.

-b.

A Lesson in Beginnings… With an R.

The tale of my promiscuity has been greatly exaggerated… Call me Ishmael… This is the story of a man named Brady… In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth… All great beginnings considered I guess I can’t exactly say mine has been great. But then again I guess I could just tell you to turn to page three-hundred and ninety-four (in a British accent) and my beginning would be very different. Epic even. It’s difficult to say why I chose to make “beginnings”  the topic for today’s class but when have I ever given a reason for anything?

This Tuesday marks the beginning of summer and while it happens to be the longest day of the year it also marks the 73rd year of the Great Emperor Clive. I haven’t had many opportunities to know emperors, Dalai lamas or much less presidents, but I can place an abundance of confidence in his greatness.

I can’t say that I knew entirely what this new beginning was going to bring but then again I can’t  won’t say I wanted to know anyway. But like I said we’re starting somewhere in the middle so…

I think we’ll start with today and go backward a bit… Today I finally lost the feeling of complete anonymity… and I’ll say I’m not thrilled about it and deny it later. I suppose there is just something about being in the middle of a strangely familiar place whilst I know that every face I see will be new. But at least I can still say that I’ll see thousands of new faces everyday, never mind the ones I don’t see or remember.

Another beginning still more intriguing began a few weeks ago with an obscene oprah-esque yell across a street in the middle of the night in a place where hills with lower case letters are no where to be found. I’m not sure if this beginning is still going-on but it’s too early to tell; I fear this beginning may vanish with little more than a whisper about its beauty, and that would just be counter productive. So, I’ll stop at that. But I will permit myself to say that my propensity for dysfunction only makes this beginning more sweet. And my affinity for all things at least somewhat “unattainable” makes this chase all the more alluring.

Of the most refreshing and fun beginnings is the one that gave me an unprecedented amount of freedom. So much freedom in fact that I have actually started to crave new freedoms. The only place here I have yet to explore is the same body which virtually encompasses the city I love so much. Though I have no desire to swim with sharks or much less dolphins, venturing into their homeland intrigues me. And how might I explore this new freedom? With wind in my hair, and my sails of course. Setting sail for the seven seas frightens me but setting sail for no place in particular within Puget Sound well… sounds perfect.

For now I feel I have adequately outlined all my most recent and intriguing beginnings and though I love beginnings I now look forward to momentum. What that leads to is surprise, surprise unknown, to me at least. And that’s how I like it.

So maybe I don’t need an epic opening line like “Call me Ishmael,” maybe what I want is a really good/bitchy last line, but in the middle of the book; complete with a dramatic exit, and/or a playful slap to the face. ;)

-b

Just for kicks… A short timeline of my current life

AS OF…

… March 24th I no longer live in Tucson, AZ; I now remember what clouds look like.

… April 4th I started on a new career path

… March 29th Britney Spears is back on track less of a train wreck. Finally I’m not worried that she’ll overdose on cocaine and anti-depressants Starbucks, not to mention the new album is great.

… April 4th I met June; which led to a new job 5 days later

… April 9th rolling around I was officially part of the Hard Rock family, Just in time for my birthday.

… April 10th I am 23, Blink 182 is now the soundtrack to my life… but I think I have a few people who do actually like me

… 3 days into 23 (or 4, I forget) I got word I’d be getting paid by the same institution that I’ll be paying back for decades

… 1999 Britney Spears has RULED my eardrums and I’ve had an on-again off-again Britney-kick ever since

… 2014 I’ll finally be done with school… Hopefully, unless I decide I want to be a doctor… Again.

… June, my horoscope says I’ll be rich, Yay for the lottery.

… 9pm last night I’m behind on Glee… Sad face

… 9:59am A. Mac now has a book called “The Rule book of Drunkards” written by the epic mess herself.

… Today I officially need a dose of Magnanimous. 

… Recently my cliched ridiculousness is getting worse

… Now I am ready for a night out and a night in and a shopping day

… Right now I miss you ALL. <3 

-b

A lack of walking black-frame glasses

Call it a lack of fruitful thoughtfulness. Or much simpler a lack of inspiration. Perhaps it’s due to my inability to spend time at my favorite 66. Today’s reason for closure: Large Cruise ship. The Crystal Symphony is nothing special aside from the fact that it’s probably larger than the school I attend.

The list of all things new now includes not one but 2 jobs to go alongside the city, state, zip, and institution (pretty much everything you write on an envelope). I think the most strange of these news is the fact that I’m occasionally woken up by the sound of seagulls. I think still stranger is I now live in this ridiculously green place, though it’s not quite home yet.

There also seems to be a list of funny things developing. High as a kite on this list is the fun fact that not only do people smoke here like there is no such thing as cancer; they also become finely peaked like there is no such thing as jail. Also highly comical on this list (to me anyway) is that I have become a cliche the biggest cliche ever. I sit in parks and cafes sipping on a latte that is one (1) absurd to say aloud or describe in general and B. is ridiculously overpriced. All the while I am sitting writing in a journal of sorts, all I’m missing is a pair of black frame glasses; I already have the ridiculous floppy beanie. Never mind how else I’m a walking cliche, I would never admit it anyway.

-b

French colored teenagers.

Amidst a never ending exchange of goods, both handmade and grown, Pike Place Market seems to be in a constant state of movement. If it were a person some might say its a bit of a work-a-holic or at the very least an insomniac. Nevermind if it ever changes, but who would want it to? Either way I highly doubt there is any kind of support group for such a… ‘holic-kind-of-place. In other news, I’ve found my coffee shop. Right in the middle of all that same tourist hustle and bustle there is a great little french bakery. No sense in telling you what its called, I don’t speak french nor do I write it well.

         It’s kind of funny to just sit and look out of this cafe. I’ve been here less than five days and I can already spot a tourist and someone who calls this place home. Most tourists are easily identified by the presence of a camera, a confused look on their face OR get this… and umbrella. Yeah that’s right… an umbrella. Apparently I’m just supposed to get all wet and have gross nappy hair. Another ridiculous observation: the young kids here LOVE crazy color in their hair; I can’t tell you how many teenagers I’ve seen with ridiculous colors in their hair… green, blue, purle, orange, VOMIT, and who said that was okay!? I’ve actually started to remember the faces of homeless people or the seemingly down-trodden; I didn’t realize they would be so plentiful.

-b

P.S. On my way to te next place I ran into Jake on 2nd Avenue. He was overjoyed to see me he waved, to which I responded with a smirk; It was all I could muster.

Jake… with an H.

So, someone called me a RASCAL yesterday. I couldn’t exactly tell you if I was offended by it or if I should have felt special that such a term of endearment was directed towards me. But just as I had decided that I would be flattered by this rascal comment, flattery turned to… whatever the absence of flattery is: “I call everyone rascal.” he says. Confused? Allow me to explain.

        On my first night in Seattle I discovered a store in Westlake Center with a ridiculous amount of sewing machines in the windows. Don’t be fooled this place is in no way a tailor, and I’m pretty sure little asian children the sales associates don’t make the clothes in the back room. Being that it was 11pm the store was closed. Go figure.

        So the next day I returned during business hours. The service at this store was great, sales people gaves smiles all around. So, when a friend came to see me I decided we would go back into that store… nevermind why… So amidst my per-oo-zing I happened upon a really trendy looking distressed leather jacket. Only later was I informed that the clothes only came in european sizes. And seeing as how I’m built like a football player, with shoulders I’m sure my mother hates me for, of course the size I try on doesn’t fit. So the guy (the one that would, a minute later call me rascal) offered to get me another size from the back. So, being a retail person myself I put the jacket back where I found it, but as I did so I found the jacket that he went to find for me. And upon telling him I found it I got the rascal comment.

         By the way this story is only being told on the world-wide-inter-web-net because of the way this particular term of endearment was used, inflection and cheeky smirk included; it reminded me of someone else who I would almost certainly kill to receive such endearment from. Nevermind who that is but they were immediately on my mind.

        This is getting confusing so from here on out we’ll refer to “Rascal-boy” as Jake. Why Jake? Well, it just so happens that I’m re-reading my favorite book whose main character is named Jake Barnes. Jake Barnes is unfailingly kind and altogether charming, two traits that Rascal-Jake also possesses just without the unfortunate war injury. Anyone who knows me can probably describe Jake to a tea; the best description award going to the one who can incorporate “small-statured” into their description. After Jake called me a rascal my mind was instantly in a strange state that is only describable by the word rapture and consequently my mind ran away with me when I fell asleep, no need for minds to fall into the gutter, but where my mind ran was quite enchanting.

-b

P.S. I’ve now decided to take this Rascal thing as a compliment. So to me it becomes an actual term of endearment despite to dictionary’s definition:

ras-cal

–noun 1. a base, dishonest, or unscrupulous person. 2. a mischievous person or animal: That child is a real rascal.

Beholders, Missteps & Cancer

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder: I suppose a saying of profound brilliance when first said, however now is fairly completely cliched (I don’t know how to do the accent thing on a computer, sorry) and only used in a rather incorrect context; most of the time when two people have different opinions of something… But no matter how incorrect it’s always a helpful argument. The sun’s going down now, but Bedlam is a-glow. Apparently it’s the only award winning coffee shop in the neighborhood. I find this statement to be a strange, but oddly believable statement. Simply because it’s the only coffee shop I can find (besides a Starbucks), it goes without saying though that I didn’t try very hard to find another; it was a recommendation.

Perhaps it’s the art of the cup of coffee that makes it award winning but… it’s in a white cup and a black lid with the brown sleeve that annoyingly reminds me that it’s recycled and of course that my beverage is hot. Stupid. But I suppose the sleeve art isn’t terrible, completely unimaginative being that it’s a bunch of coffee cups on saucers, but still not terrible.

I guess that the most beautiful thing here (if you put aside the fact that the trees are actually green here, and there is a delightful breeze) is the unbelievable kindness of every stranger I’ve come in contact with. Whether they were kind enough to point me in the right direction or give me a tip on how to eat a ridiculously large calzone at dinner, strangers here are oddly…. familiar… in a strange way. The most outright display of this kindness would probably be a general willingness to share a meal with you. First Jane and now the people at my hostel; the chef is cooking dinner for a small army and my outgoing ways led (lead?) me to comment on how delicious it smelled, hence my invite. Unbelievable kindness. Side note: Everyone I have made eye-contact with no matter who it is… has smiled back at me when I’m obviously caught staring. And the only thing that tarnishes this streak of kindness is the fact that people smoke here like there’s no such thing as cancer. Quite comical if you ask me. Yet more comical is the number of women who have walked past the window that can’t walk in their heels; I would recommend flats or flip-flops but I also witnessed a girl wearing flip-flops, with a large HUGE pizza box, trip and almost face-plant whilst the words oh shit “oh darn” escaped her mouth so… Well it’s almost time for dinner at the hostel… better go, it’s never kind to be late to a dinner party.

Spread the stream of kindness… it’s simple, try holding a door for someone, nothing is more beautiful than a smile from a stranger no matter how many teeth they don’t have.

-b

PS: Dinner was tasty, but the funniest part about dinner was that I was the ONLY AMERICAN at the table. I sat at a table full of Germans!! Alls I can say is it was SUPER FUNNY! Loved it.

New Blue and Juggling Metaphors

      And the strange get stranger. It’s one thing to wake up someplace you don’t remember falling asleep in, but it’s an entirely different thing to wake up in a strange place and alcohol has nothing to do with it. Today I started over began life again. The begining of the rest of my life again… HAhA and it couldn’t be any more like a movie. It’s kinda funny, my life right now is like the first 15 minutes of a cool a kinda epic very epic film where the main character is just gearing up for something amazing. So in my movie of life I’m in the boring sometimes comical preface (sorry, mixing book and movie metaphors) And I’m already loving it. So naturally I can hardly wait for the good parts.

      It’s so weird to feel complete anonymity again whilst I sit among the jugglers at pike place market. For me It’s like I fell asleep in a strange place and woke up in paradise…I’ll have you know Seattle is indeed a paradise even though some might say it doesn’t rain in paradise… It does in mine. No matter how many clouds there are the sky has never been so blue.

-b