My Butt & The Bum That Handed It To Me

I got my butt handed to me by a homeless man. 

After spending some time at FAO Schwartz we set off to find a bite to eat before we needed to head to Lion King.  We found a delightful little deli just up the street and popped in there for lunch.  If you're curious, and I know you are, I got a grilled chicken sammich with avocado.  It made my heart sing.

I was out front by myself waiting for the rest of my peoples as they were buying cookies for the road.  As I was standing there a homeless man approached me.

"Do you have any change?"

"I don't, I'm sorry."  Which was very true.

"Well, you have a credit card, you can go in there and buy me a sandwich."  This wasn't even said as a request, it was like it was the obvious solution to the problem of me not having change.

"I'm sorry?"  I asked because I both couldn't believe I'd heard right, and because I could barely understand him through his thick mumbly accent.

"You can take your credit card, and go buy me a sandwich."

"I don't think I want to do that, I'm sorry sir."

"But, I'm hungry."

"I'm sorry, sir." Was all I had to say.  I began to understand that he wasn't going to leave me alone, and my cavalry wasn't coming out of the deli anytime soon.

"So, where you come from you just let people go hungry?"

I have to admit at this point I was getting pretty defensive and annoyed.  "Where I come from, people just have jobs."

"But, what am I supposed to do?"

"You should probably just get a job."

"But what am I supposed to do if people won't hire me?"  I wanted to ask how this was my fault, but just shrugged and apologized again.

At this point a swanky dressed man walked up to the deli.  The homeless man turned his attention to the newcomer, and asked him to buy him a sandwich.  The man shook his head and went into the deli.

The homeless man turned back to me and said, "Rich guy won't buy me a sandwich, what's wrong with you?!"

Does that make sense to anyone else?  I just rolled my eyes, "I'm not rich."

Finally the man sauntered off to accost more people and my crew came out of the deli with fresh cookies . We walked down the street and pssed the guy, who was now harassing another woman.  I looked at him and pointedly bit into my cookie.

Maybe I am heartless, but I have a hard time giving handouts to people that don't help themselves.  I'm more apt to give change to street performers rather than a guy that gives me the 3rd degree about buying him a sandwich. 

What do you think?  Would you have bought the guy a sandwich?

MOM

In honor of Mother's day, I thought I would reminisce on a few memories of my mom.

When I was in Kindergarten each student had to read a story in front of the class.  I decided to do The Little Red Hen.  If you've never heard it before it was about a hen that grew some wheat and eventually used it to bake bread, all while her barnyard friends wouldn't help her.  I'm sure there is a magical morale mixed in there somewhere.  My mom made miniature loaves of bread for each kid in my class to have.  All the kids thougt that was really cool that they got their own loaf of bread, myself included.  I was the coolest kid in class that day.

*****

My mom has always said she has ways of knowing things we think she couldn't possibly know, and if we ever do anything wrong, she'll know about it.  She had a rule that we couldn't go downtown by oursleves, and I suppose it was a little dangerous.  One day me and my friend decided we were going to bike to the local library.  Yes, I realize how nerdy this makes me look that I would risk getting grounded to sneak to the library of all places.  We biked down there, perused the library, went to the drugstore to buy some candy, went back to the library and read our books while eating our candy in the most sneaky of fashions to hide it from the librarians, and biked home.  I thought we were home free (pun intended) until my mom came home from work that evening and asked how the library was.  She was at work all day!  She is a magician.

***** 

When my friends called the house and my mom answered the phone, it went something like this:

Friend: "Is Bre there?"

Mom: "Physically, but not mentally."

Classic.

***** 

One day my mom mentioned how much me and sister looked alike.  We don't, and I mean we really don't.  With my prowess in rhetoric I jumped to the first comparison that came to mind.  Bugs, of course.  "But mom, Brit is like a Walking Stick, and I'm like a-a Potato Bug!"

I should add that I was about 21 at that time.

I was in between apartments, and was crashing on my parents couch in the basement while I was waiting for the current tenants to move out of my apartment so I could move in.  I had several friends over, and we were sitting in the basement when my mom started yelling down the steps:

"POTATO BUG!  POTAAAAATO BUUUUUUG!  OH, POTATO BUG!"

My friends stopped talking to listen to my mom holler down the stairs.  Of course I tried, in vain, to ignore it. 

"Is your mom saying 'Potato Bug'?"

"Ummmmm yeah, I guess she is."

"Wait, is your mom calling you Potato Bug?"

"Ha ha, no."

Then my mom chirps in with, "Potato Bug?  BRE!  Potato Bug, c'mere!"

She knew my friends were there, and knew exactly the effect it would have.  Of course, my friends started calling me Potato Bug.

***** 

Jordan and I were freshly dating, and were still in the transition from friends to more than.  I was again living in my parents basement, but this time I was occupying the only bedroom downstairs.  Jordan came over to hang out a lot, so she was used to him there, but I guess she had sensed the change.  I had a TV in my room, and we were sitting there watching a movie when she burst through the door with my dad's old shotgun and shouted "What are your intentions with my daughter?!"  Except, she barely finished her sentence before she bust out laughing, and continued to laugh so hard she cried.  She laughed the rest of the evening, she was so proud of herself.  Jordan however, didn't find it as funny, and it took a while before he wasn't intimidated by my mom.  I personally look forward to doing the same thing to my daughters' boyfriends.

I should probably make it clear that the gun wasn't loaded.

*****

My mom has a fear of water, and when we were planning our trip to Lake Powell we were desperate for her to come, even though we were planning on staying on a houseboat.  It took a lot of begging, canoodling and bribing, but she eventually agreed to go on the trip.

Once there we joked about how we were going to get her out on the tube behind the speedboat.  One morning we were all outside getting the boat ready to take out when she stepped out of the houseboat in her swimsuit, zipped up her lifejacket and said she was ready to go.

All our jaws dropped and we stared, unable to believe she was really going to get on the tube.  Despite her fear she hopped on that tube.

Smiling or grimacing, you ask?  I think I little bit of both.



While she didn't exactly conquer her fear, I was so proud that she kicked it in the butt a little that day.

******

My mom playing guitar hero.  And if this awesomeness isn't self-explanatory, the look on Jordan's face in the background should be explanation enough.

My mom is the greatest mother I could have asked for.  I feel so lucky to be her daughter.  When I grow up I want to be just like her.  

I Saw a UFO

Actually, I saw two of them.  They were small, lighted and humming.

I'm pretty sure they were just remote controlled airplanes with lights on them.

But that's what they want you to think.

Brighton's Fiscal Friend

I cleaned out my purse and ended up with a big ol' stack of coins.  Luckily my mom got me the coolest piggy bank this side of the Mississippi.  So cool I feel like I need to spell it "kewl".  My piggy bank scares the living crap out of Brighton, which only makes is cooler (kewler). 

This is a very concerned creature.

My bank is a plush puppy, and when you put a coin in its back it whines, barks and pants all while flapping it's ears up and down.  Its hell to Brighton, he really loses his mind when the bank goes off.  As I said, I had a big ol' stack of coins and a bit of time.

To really get at him I put the bank on the table, and enjoyed watching Boy try to get up there.  Apparently, Kloe enjoyed the show as well.

He never was able to reach the faux pup, though not for lack of trying.

I don't think this war is over yet.

I Have Multiple Personality Disorder

I've just had it brought to my attention that I have multiple personalities.  I am terrified.  Not because my alter ego is a crazy serial killer (at least not that I know of) but because I had absolutely no idea, and no recollection of events that have happened whilst my other Bre is at the reins.  Also, she is a self-deprecating, attention-seeking hypochondriac.

So, just like me.  I wonder if her greatest goal is to become Rebecca Black's Lyricist as well.

My first sign of this fabled disorder was a couple weeks ago.  There is a lady that I used to work closely with on a project last Aug/Sept, but every time I see her in the halls she avoids eye contact, and doesn't say anything back if I say something to her.  It was like we had never met.  It was like rude.  To seek my revenge, I made sure to say hi to her every time I saw her, determined to get a response, a simple "hi" in return.  Nevertheless, I got zilch, and I started to wonder if I had made up ever working with her.  I decided that I had more than enough casual and unnecesary work acquaintances, and let her live in her silent world.

Then, a couple weeks ago I hopped onto the elevator to find her inside.  I groaned inwardly knowing it was going to be an awkward ride.  To my surprise she turns to me and says, "Hi, I'm, Smichelle!"  (You know, to protect her identity and all) My jaw nearly dropped, she speaks!  Then I said, "I'm BreAnn, we've actually met, and we worked together on sherka."  Sherka isn't actually the name of the project, but I figure you're not going to know what I'm talking about, so I could create any project name I wanted.

Then she says, "Oh, I didn't recognize you in this building."  For clarification purposes, I should explain that our company has two buildings that connect by a bridge in the middle.  I used to work in one, and now I work in the other.  Though, that explanation doesn't clear up why I would look like a completely different person from one building to the next.

Days after that I ran into her in the bathroom.  As I've mentioned previously I prefer not to have conversations in the bathroom, and I thought given our previous, and very silent, encounters before that I was in the clear.  But, maybe she felt bad about her diss in the elevator and thought she had to make up for it, and chose to do so by asking how I've been feeling.  I felt really confused right then, that's for sure.  I answered that I was fine, and she enquired about my health.  Since I had no clue what she was talking about I thought this might be regarding my weight, and the fact that there is a lot of it.  I sputtered a little and included some drawn out "ums" and she said something about all my health problems and how I've had to miss a lot of work because of my ongoing health issues.

To be honest my first thought was, I have?!  For a minute I was about to answer that I was feeling much better, thank you.  Then I realized that should I have major health issues Miss I Didn't Recognize You In This Building wasn't going to be my confidant.  I thought the most polite way to say "You're friggin' crazy" would be, "I don't remember that."  She insisted that yes, weren't you gone from work a lot because of your health?  I told her no, she must be thinking of someone else, and excused myself from the bathroom.

The second part of this story would make more sense if you understand that A) My sister works at the same company, B) She's super preggo and C) We have a Sister Code that point blank states any big news must be shared with the sister before anyone else, our parents being the only exception.  Yes, it's in writing.

My sister IM'd me yesterday proclaiming in no uncertain terms that she thought we were sisters and in short, I had broken the Sister Code.  Apparently, someone was talking to her yesterday and told her something about me that she never knew.  I couldn't imagine what it could be, or who would know some deep dark secret of mine.  I asked her who it was and this person had never shared a heart to heart convo with me.  My sister says that they were talking about her pregnancy, and this individual, whom we'll call Schmanna, asked her if I was ok with her being pregnant 'cause apparently I told her that I had been desperately trying to get pregnant for years and haven't been able to.

Perhaps these are my fabled health issues that took me out of work?

My sister, confused and probably offended said, "Hmmm, I never knew about that."  Schmanna insisted that I had told her all about my struggle to concieve.  My sister was quite surprised that I had kept my infertility issues a secret, and that I would choose to tell a random coworker of all people.

The only conclusion that I can come up with is that I have multiple personalities.  This other me is running around telling people about her health problems, and mourns for her unborn children.  So, if you're ever talking to me and I insist my name isn't Bre, and I say my name is really Jennaphernelia, (that just feels right, somehow) just know that you're about to hear an earful about my/her personal problems.

Thank You, Georgia

Last night I was driving home from work, enjoying the warmish weather. I had my window rolled half down to indulge in a delightful breeze.  That's when it hits me; the gift Georgia gave me.

Several years ago I was driving through Georgia.  Perhaps I should clarify the state of Georgia, and not a person, that makes a big difference.  It was a pretty drive, and the air felt nice as I stuck my arm out the window and breathed in the warm air. 

Then I experienced something I had never felt before, and to say I was confused is an understatement.  A thousand tiny little needles started stabbing me in the eyes, tears poured from my eyes and ran down my cheeks.  My traveling companions thought I was bawling, and I very well could have.  I dug my fists into my eyes, knowing I was smearing my mascara everywhere, it was a lost cause anyway since my tears made quick work of any semblance of makeup I had on.  I ripped out my contacts, and settled in to rub, rub, rub.

"What's wrong, Bre?!"

"It burns!!!"

"Bre, it's just allergies."

"But, I don't have allergies!"

"Uh, pretty sure you do."

Before that moment I had never experienced an inkling of allergies, and then it was like getting smacked in the eyes with an angry cat.  Georgia had ripped open a Pandora's box within me.

Every spring since then I have gotten allergies in the evening when I'm driving around.  Every time it hits me I think, "Thank you, Georgia."

My Imaginary Adventures

Often times at work someone will see the background on my computer and ask me all about it.  Where was it taken, who took the picture, when did that happen, how was I able to get that picture, and so forth.  It's getting old to explain that I don't know anything about the picture; I just downloaded a batch of backgrounds off Bing, and point to the giant Bing logo on the picture.

So, I started giving explanations of the pictures. 

This picture was taken during my last trip to New York.  I was fortunate enough to be part of the Statue Revitalization Project (SRP).  SRP restores and maintains the statue, a process that takes several weeks and is done every 5 years.  I was in charge of repainting the right arm and hand, and left my initials in the thumb nail.

This was taken in Panama.  I was only interested in the fishing, but ended up an honorary member of the Tishunda tribe, an indigenous tribe that lives along the mouth of the Piwi river as it lets into the sea, where I was fishing.  The down side of this trip was that my guide, Richu, came down with a nasty case of Panamanian fever, more commonly known in the States as influenza.  He spent three days hurling over the boat, which ended up beneficial simply because the regurgitated rice chunks attracted fish like you wouldn't believe.

This was taken during my season aboard Sea Shepard's Bob Barker.  During this photo we were hot on the trail of the Nishan Maru when they had sailed into an iceberg field to try and lose us.  Unfortunately for them the Bob Barker is an ice breaker, and we dove in after them.  Butyric acid in hand, we soon caught up to the Japanese whaling vessel and made our presence known.  No whales died that day.

This picture I had a little fun with.  Meet Bernie, he was a good sport while I took my pictures.  In fact, all of the polar bears in this photo is Bernie.  I overlapped them all to make it look like a whole fleet of bears.  Bernie eventually decided he had enough of the photo shoot and charged toward me.  I took off running, and Bernie made quick work of the tripod I left behind as I ran.

While vacationing in this quaint English villiage my purse was stolen, and all my money and plane ticket along with it.  I was forced to get a short time job that would provide me with enough money to get a plane ticket home.  That is how I found myself as a PA on the set of the last installment of the Harry Potter series.  The weather was gorgeous all week, and then as we started shooting a seen with Voldemort this wicked storm rolled in.  My suspicions have been confirmed that God is a Harry Potter fan.

This was on my Alaskan cruise.  You can see my ship in the harbor, Adventure of the Seas.  This harbor was not on the itinerary, but we ran out of shrimp and a riot started among the other cruise-goers.  After four crew members were trampled, resulting in injuries varying from a black eye to a broken arm, the captain made an emergency pit stop to pick up more shrimp. 

This was during the same cruise.  We were very fortunate to take our cruise during prime aurora borealis season.  Unfortunately, after hiking to this perfect viewing area I reached into my backpack only to realize that I left my camera on the boat.  Not willing to hike down and back up again, yet desperate for a good photo of this phenomenon I punched out another tourist and stole their camera.  I thought the picture turned out nicely, though.

This is my brother, he's an amazing canyoneering guide.  (This is actually true, you can check his website out here.  You should do a canyon with him, it's much like doing a canyon with James Franco, minus being stranded and cutting your own arm off with a pocket knife).  This is the Womamoke waterfall in south Oregon.  He had a great time paddling his kayak around, up until he realized he had no way to get back to the top of the waterfall, where his car was parked.

This is the family vineyard in Tuscany.  It has been in our family for seven generations.  We not only make the most savory of wines, but we also have a large plot where we grow a myriad of flowers for fine perfumes.  I'm next in line to inherit this property, but I think I'm just going to sell it and use the money to buy Neverland Ranch.

Yes, the next time someone asks me about my background they will hear all about it.