Epic Mickey has nothing on me

Hello faithful blog-followers!  I’ve gotten enough texts, emails, and messages telling me I need to get off my lazy butt and do a new post, so your requests will not go ignored.  Plus I got an email telling me my domain name is about to expire, and in order to justify renewing it I figured I should probably…oh I don’t know….update my freaking blog.

So what’s new with me you might ask?  I’m living in my new condo, after one horrifying episode with a leaky roof (which caused a hyperventilating Brenda.)  Christmas and New Years have come and gone, with the expected damage to my wallet and liver.  I’ve found SEVERAL grey hairs on my head, in the very front by my bangs.  In reality nobody can probably see them, but in my mind I look like Rogue from the X-Men.  You might know her better as the now-blonde Sookie Stackhouse.

Behold, my future

Anyway, you might be asking what the eff this all has to do with the title of this post.  I’m getting there.

While wading through the influx of commercials during the holiday season, I was horrified to realize that not only was Disney trying to put out a fantastical game to replace my much-beloved “Kingdom Hearts,” but they were calling it EPIC MICKEY.   really?!?!

I am more than a little bit pissed at Disney for trying to reclaim this word as their own.  (I have dealt with the fact that the phrase “Epic Fail” is now very common, as it is generally reserved for failures of the greatest magnitude.)  But Mickey?  As in the cartoon mouse, Mickey?

My affection for this word began in college, when I realized I needed a word to describe when a night out on the town got completely, flat-out, ridiculous.  A group of my friends would describe their night as “O.C.” (as in out-of-control) but I found when I used this word I’d often get several people thinking I meant the crap-tastic TV show.  I settled on “Epic” and it never let me down.  Often people will ask me what really constitutes an epic night, and it truly is hard to describe.

An epic night starts at a particular bar/club/house/basement, but will inevitably end at a different location.  It will go into the wee small hours of the morning, though a walk of shame is optional.  It generally includes libations outside of the typical beer and wine.  (Not necessarily vodka, my latest one consisted of little more than watermelon-flavored Four Loko.)

At any rate, I have decided that along with my advanced age, I should choose a new word to go with describing a particularly debaucherous evening.  Upon much soul searching and internet-surfing, it became clear.  My new word will be LEGEN…..wait for it…..DARY!!

My hero, Barney Stinson, from whom the bros have learned so much, will be my spirit guide into the world of legendariousness.

And if you don’t watch How I Met Your Mother and do not appreciate the glory that is NPH…..well, friendship over.

Bed Bugs

Holy HELL. Brenda is typing words on the internet?!?!

Yes, its been a while. Nope, I’m not sorry. Been busy as hell and while I do love each and every one of my followers, sometimes getting that extra hour of sleep is more important.

So, I live in my new condo, with my heavy bookshelf, and the occasional house centipede. You know how terrifying spiders are to see scurry across your wall? A centipede is even scarier. Those little boogers are FAST and have 18 billion hairy little legs. Granted, they don’t bite, and I’ve only found a small few of them, but generally bugs in any shape or size are not welcome in my home. Plus, if they are crawling on the wall, how do I catch them under a cup?

Speaking of terrifying bugs, I probably told a few of you about my reoccurring dream where a spider is dropping on me from the ceiling. Well, the good news is that I no longer have that type of dream. The bad news is it was replaced by an even more terrifying version: a spider crawling out from between my sheets. The worst part of the story? THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED TO ME.

I spent the weekend out of town, so I got back to my place and was exhausted. It was only 9:00pm, but I was so tired I was just gonna crawl into bed and call it a night. So I go to my room, and pull back my flat sheet. To my absolute terror, a spindly little spider dashed towards my pillow, and into my nightmares. I SCREAMED and tried to grab for the nearest smushing object, none could be found. The spider ducked back into the sheets. After finding a shoe I took a deep breath, pulled back the sheets and killed the little m-er efffing life ruiner. Oh I made him suffer too. This was no kind killing, I probably twapped that stupid guy with my flip flop no less than 15 times.

So spider is dead, and Brenda is shaken. Then I remembered something my friend Jenn told me: You will never find just one spider. There are always at least two. So I tear off the sheets, blanket, and comforter, and found nothing. Just to make damn certain that I didn’t miss anyone, I figured there wouldn’t be any harm in just throwing all of it in the washer, just in case there might be a rogue spider that I need to drown. So then I removed the pillows from the pillowcases, and found nothing. Figured I might as well wash those too. I then realized I had pillow shams laying NEAR the bed, who knows what might be hiding in those. Washed them too. Bed skirt? That too. I shook out the curtains hanging a few feet away, no spiders. I’m telling you, if this spider had a buddy, he was a freakin ninja spider. I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t pull back the sheets on my bed EVERY NIGHT before going to bed, looking for that damn ninja spider. When I find him I plan on pulling off his eight little legs and beating him senseless with them.

So. Enough about that. Let’s move on.

So with home ownership comes great amounts of responsibility. Read: bills. Costing lots and lots of monies. So I’ve had to cut costs here and there, and one huge way I’ve managed to cut back on my spending is by deciding not to have cable TV. That’s right, friends. No cable. No pretending to care about ESPN when boys come over. No Kleinfelds to remind me that I’m probably never going to buy a $5,000 wedding dress. No real housewives to avoid. No Situations and Snookies to cringe through. No Kardashians that are so annoying they very well might drive me to murder. And for the love of all that is holy, will everyone PLEASE stop talking about Tosh? Is that seriously his name?

I must admit not having cable is amazingly liberating. When people ask me if I caught Top Chef last night, I don’t have to explain “Actually no, I kind of have a show I watch that night so I didn’t really wanna add a new show. Plus I didn’t really like the DC season and the Just Desserts series looks kind of stupid.”

I can just say this: “I don’t have cable.”

Done. No more questions. No “OMG it’s soooooooo good you totally have to watch just set your DVR because last season was kind of off its getting back on track and there was this one guy last season was so blah blah blah blaaaaaaaaaaaah.” Nope. None of that. I get the shows I really want through my antenna: House M.D., Modern Family, Grey’s Anatomy, and LOST. (No I haven’t been able to get over the fact that LOST is actually over. It just can’t be.)

So, if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for House. And I’m gonna watch it, FO FREE!!!

Love/Hate

So my last blog post was mega sad, and I felt the need to keep things as upbeat as humanly possible.  So I decided to make fun of myself.  (Always an easy topic.)  There are aspects of my life where I can say that I have great taste.  I tend to own pretty nice shoes.  I know how to buy really nice sheets and pillows.  I think that I have decent taste in clothes.  However, there are some things in life that I have no business liking, but I secretly or not so secretly loooove.  Here is a list of things that I love…and I shouldn’t.

Spaghetti O’s- like tomato soup only chewy.  However this + grilled cheese = greatest snow day meal in the history of the world.

Kool-aid- I don’t care that this is for little kids, when I’m 80 years old I will still be making strawberry Kool-Aid.  However as I’ve grown older I’ve switched to artificial sweetener.  I should get a little credit for that.

Golden Girls- The jokes are predictable and it’s about old ladies having sex.  Yet if there is a marathon on I can watch this all day, every day.  I’ve probably seen every episode…about three times.

And since I’m listing things that I’m slightly embarrassed to love, I will now list things that everyone else loves, but I actually can’t stand:

Sushi- disgusting.  Nobody will ever convince me otherwise.  Ever ever. EVER

Apple- I don’t want an ipod, an iphone, a mac book, an ipad, or anything else that Apple makes.  Steve Jobs can suck it.

Hardwood floors- they are cold and noisy and they show dust and you always have to worry about scratching them.  I don’t care that they are technically fancier than carpet and they add to a home’s value, I don’t like hardwood floors!  (Though my would-be new condo has it in the living room.  I’ll deal.  And buy an area rug.)  It looks pretty, I’ll give you that.

Twitter- look, I know I’m not one to talk about shameless self promotion.  I update my Facebook status and I post this blog on a semi regular basis.  But honestly?  My life is just not that interesting to warrant updating a status every few hours.  And neither is yours.  Neither is John Mayer’s.

and the one that will blow EVERYONE’S mind….

The Tonight Show with Conan O’Brian- I never watched the Late Show with Conan O’Brian and I never watched The Tonight Show with Conan O’Brian.  The random clips of his show that I would see made me laugh, and he’s a funny dude, but I couldn’t get too terribly upset about him getting canceled cuz I never watched him in the first place.  Sorry, team CoCo.

Why do I feel like I just lost all of my readers with that last post?

Why yes, I will go slightly out of my way to step on that crunchy looking leaf…

Hello faithful blog followers!  Well it’s finally that blessed time of year…FALL!  Some people love summer, and can’t wait for it…personally I’d take fall any day.  Don’t get me wrong, I love what goes along with summer: vacations, boating, swimming, fireworks, cookouts, all that.  Problem is, I have to spend summer in Illinois…and that’s the problem.  Humidity, 100 degree temperatures, june bugs, mosquitos, and not living anywhere near a decent beach kind of puts a damper on the whole season.  Plus, I’m a jeans girl.  I despise wearing shorts and skirts, so even when it’s 100 degrees, my kneecaps rarely see the sun.  Plus I’ve got fair, easily burned skin, and a day at the beach is likely to leave me peeley for a few weeks.

But the fall…..ah the fall.  Jeans and boots and sweaters and wearing my hair down.  Scarves (to keep me warm, NOT as a summer fashion statement,) bonfires and football games.  Pumpkins and apples and leaves so crunchy I will go slightly out of my way to step on them.  Doesn’t get much better than that.

My birthday is next week, which normally I get all excited about, but this year I’m trying to keep it as low key as possible.  21st birthdays are of course amazing, 22 is still college so it’s fun.  23 means you’re just out of college, so you’re still allowed to be a screw-up.  24 means you need to start settling down cuz you’ve been out of college for a few years.  But 25?!?!  A quarter of a century?  I’m now closer to 30 than I’m comfortable with.

And HALLOWEEN!!  Easily one of the greatest days of the year.  You know with Christmas and New Years and other holidays, I always make such a huge deal about them, and I’m nearly always let down.  They never live up to my high expectations.  Halloween, on the other hand, never fails to disappoint.  It’s always what I want it to be: an excuse to wear scandalous outfits and enormous fake eyelashes and enjoy some adult beverages.  (The Burke Halloween bash is always the social event of the season, you know.)

Plus I have the great fortune to have a boyfriend from Colorado, so I’ll get to go to Denver with him for his friend’s wedding, which is way exciting.  CO is just about my favorite place ever ever, so any excuse to visit is always appreciated.  Goal for the reception: DON’T get seated next to the bar, NO dancing on the tables, avoid catching the bouquet at all costs, and try to keep my heels on at least past dinner.

And ISU’s HOMECOMING!  I am certainly ready to “Rock the Red.”  We’ll be tailgating at the football game, (but strangely enough we’re not going to the game itself…) and hitting the downtown Bloomington bars like we were 22 again.  I can’t WAIT to see my girls again, it’s been way too long since we’ve all been together.  Bad Music Night and the hot dog vendor await!!  (Could there be some Flinger rolls in my future?!)

Ah, fall.  Another reason to love it: it’s the beginning of the HOLIDAY SEASON!  I’ll be spending Thanksgiving with 4 of my old sorority partners in crime in sunny Mexico, hoping to dodge drug cartels and plane hijackers, and spending as much time at the swim-up bar as humanly possible.  There will be a liquor dispenser in our room for crying out loud.  A LIQUOR DISPENSER.  If that’s not a great/terrible idea I don’t know what is!

Then Christmas, the most glorious holiday of them all.  The boy has offered to help me get a REAL tree this year, so my apartment will smell not of rich mahogany, but all piney and such.  Normally my excitement stems from the traditional holiday offerings, (decorations, cookies, snow, carols, etc,) but this year it’s different.  Christmas will bring a different kind of gift: a NIECE!  Baby girl Reinhardt should arrive in late December, and I can’t wait to spoil her rotten.  I’m sure there will be plenty of “Baby’s First Christmas” ornaments in her future.

So there you have it!  The next few months will be busy, fun, eventful, chilly, and awesome.  Unfortunately that will be the end of 2009, the aptly named “Year of Brenda.”  This year has brought me several amazing things: a contracting job at DISA, then a student position, starting grad school, getting my own place, meeting a great guy, a niece on the way, a vacation to look forward to, my parents celebrating their 3oth wedding anniversary, and a wonderful group of friends and family to share it all with.

Well my dog is staring at me with what can only be described as a look of sheer and utter adoration, so I think I’ll go play with the pup.  Till next time, my friends   😉

Back to blogging, I suppose

Ah yes, as my baby brother pointed out, I’ve had a very long break from blogging.  40-some odd days to be specific.  For that I would like to apologize!  I’ve been a busy little bee for the past few months, working my ass off at DISA, going to school,  pulling amazing grades, and yes…..getting a boyfriend.

Yes I REALIZE my last post was about how I didn’t need a boyfriend and how I was perfectly happy being single, and all of those statements are still true, but I’ve found a pretty fantastic dude to spend some time with.  (To be fair we started dating in July and I JUST became a girlfriend, so I held off as long as I could. )  His name is Conor, and he’s fabulous, but that story is for another day.  (And if he knew I was blogging about him he’d probably flip.)

THIS post is going to be about something very near and dear to my heart: bad dressers.  I don’t consider myself to be a fashionista of any sort, but I can tell when something looks good, and when something looks GOD AWFUL STUPID.  Summer tends to bring out the crazies, so there are plenty of opportunities to people watch and catch some crimes in the act.  Here are some of my favorites:

Scarves in the summer:

Trying to keep warm, eh?

Trying to keep warm, eh?

Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii’m sorry, isn’t the basic function of a scarf to keep yourself warm?  Correct me if I’m wrong there.  I will NEVER understand sitting at a 100 degree baseball game, and looking over and seeing a boho wannabe bia-tch sitting there with her stupid summer scarf.  I sort of want to choke her with it.

The color “salmon”

Boys, I'm just gonna say it.  Salmon = pink

Boys, I'm just gonna say it. Salmon = pink

When girls have a tramp stamp, they are automatically categorized as a hussy.  When men wear ANYTHING in the color salmon, its practically a “douche” nametag.  I was at SubZero in the CWE last weekend and there was a guy wearing salmon colored shorts, a white polo WITH HIS COLLAR POPPED, and (seriously) penny loafers.  Boys?  I can ALMOST get on board with a pale pink shirt here and there, but I’m sorry, salmon is unacceptable.

ENORMOUS purses

Coming soon: back problems

Coming soon: back problems

There are all sorts of things that are bad for women that I can still get on board with.  Wearing flip flops for hours on end, the occasional tanning session, paying $50 for a haircut….all fine.  But WHY would ANY woman EVER need a purse this big?!  What could you possibly need to carry with you at all times that would take up this much space?  Even baby bags need not be this big.  I’m telling you ladies, this is NOT ok.

Socks with Sandals

No further explanation needed

No further explanation needed

Douchey T-Shirts:

ed hardy douche

affliction doucheAh yes, Ed Hardy and Affliction t-shirts….reminds me a lot of the Von Dutch movement while I was in high school.  I was at the Drunken Fish and caught a glimpse of the DJ…he was wearing a RHINESTONE PEACOCK Ed Hardy T-Shirt. Seriously?  He was looking through racks of clothes and saw THAT shirt and said “Ohhhh yeah, I’d look GREAT in that!!”

I could seriously go on for days here…cutoff shorts with the pockets hanging out the bottom, Ugg boots (ANY time of the year,) overly teased hair bumps, wearing white socks with dress shoes, blatant knock-off purses, girls that wear tube tops with a regular bra (I don’t like strapless bras either but sometimes they are necessary…suck it up!)

So there it is, sorry this post isn’t more fantastic, I feel like my return to blogging should have been more dramatic….fireworks and all that.  Maybe next time, so stay tuned 😉

~B

SYTYCD, why have I not been watching this?!

Hello sportsfans!  Once again I will spare you the whole “Ohhh I’m so sorry I didn’t blog for a few weeks” because I’m sure you don’t wanna hear it, and lets face it…I’m not sorry 😉

First, if you don’t know me very well, I should tell you that I love dance.  I love watching dance, choreographing, juking at the club, and can’t stop myself from at least bouncing my foot when a good song comes on.  I was on my dance team in HS and danced a bit in college with my sorority, but I have very little knowledge of classical technique.  However, I can still figure out how to do most moves, and can still tell when something looks good and when it doesn’t.

I am ashamed to admit I’ve been slow to jump on the show So You Think You Can Dance, for reasons I’ve only started to realize.  I never had my very own DVR until last month, so the whole “fast forward through stuff I don’t wanna see” concept was completely lost on me.  Since getting my own place and shelling out the extra cheddar for a DVR, I can now finally get into this show the way I always know I should.  First of all, commercials suck, and the ones on Fox are especially bad.  Yes, I know the average woman is a size 14/16, and that the media sucks and only portrays skinny women, but even as a plus sized gal myself, I STILL don’t want to watch “More to Love.”  If a chubby girl doesn’t want to watch a show about other chubby girls finding their prince charming, you have a problem.

And OH. MY. GOD, lets talk about Mary Murphy for a minute!  The woman is literally bat-shit crazy, I don’t know how she still has a job.  Yes, she’s a ballroom expert, and yes every once in a while she’ll be able to give a good critique on partnering style, but for the most part, she is only known for her botox face and her “hot tamale” train screams.  I would rather watch Paula Abdul blither on and on about a singer’s triumphant essence of musicality (or whatever,) than listen to Ms. Murphy scream one more time.

But man oh man, this show is good.  I get to watch half naked men prance around and flex their ridiculous, insane, beautiful muscles.  (And yes, I’m aware that probably 75% of them are gay, but honestly….who cares?!)  And the girls!!  Watching a girl out-dance her partner in nearly EVERY SINGLE ROUTINE just rocks.  I mean it, watch the show again, is it just me or do you watch the girl the entire time?  The men are mostly muscley props who are supposed to catch the beautiful, sexy dancing girl.  The themes are fantastic, the choreographers are inventive, and I get to see the cute/crazy outfits Cat wears every week!

Now my experience is pretty limited, but this season seems pretty stellar.  True, the bulk of the top 20 were modern dancers (I would have loved to see a few more hip-hoppers or ballroom,) but they’re all so incredibly talented.  Kupono made me want to do the no pants dance with both his addiction and vampire pieces,  Ade’s hair pick ofen makes me forget how amazing and strong his moves are, Evan makes me want to pinch his cheeks, I want to scrub my clothes on Jason’s tummy, Brandon shouldn’t be allowed to wear clothes and Melissa’s body is UNREAL.  My three faves this season are Kayla, Jeanine and Janette,  girls who honestly can do NO WRONG.  Kayla honestly nails every single move she hits, you can just see that she is aware of every single inch of her body, her control is INSANE.  (And how cute are her grandparents?!) Jeanine makes me want to bat for the other team, I’ll just come right out and say it, and as much as I loved Phillip, her brilliance was wasted being partnered with him.  And Janette’s Miami/salsa hips can do no wrong. (Does it blow your mind that she is a ballroom dancer?  She’s so versatile!)  I seriously hope it comes down to the three of these girls, they’re both so insanely talented I can barely stand it.

And the choreography!  I was moved to tears by two pieces, addiction (Kayla and Kupono) and breast cancer (Ade and Melissa.)  I seriously sat alone in my living room and bawled, they were so powerful and moving.  Other greats include a female alien impregnating the last man on earth, a zombie turning a schoolgirl into his zombie mistress, an entire routine dedicated to Randi’s ass, couch jumping, chains, heart lockets, knocked up girlfriends, vampires, and so so so so so much more.

So there you have it, I am fully obsessed with SYTYCD, and I’m not ashamed to say it.  I am SO sorry if you’re one of my blog readers and you don’t watch it, cuz this was probably really boring for you to read.  (But maybe it will inspire you to start watching it?)  Honestly I can say I’ll be really into this show for a very long time…

…just as long as my DVR keeps working, cuz no amount of dancing brilliance is worth Mary Murphy’s friggin siren song.

I'm sexy, I dance, I live in Hawaii, and I design my own clothes.  You know you want this.

I'm sexy, I dance, I live in Hawaii, and I design my own clothes. You know you want this.

Sick days = overrated

I called in sick today.

Remember when you were in grade school, and you’d look forward to your sick days?  I had a stay at home mom, so a sick day to me was kind of a mini vacation.  I’d wake up in the morning, wander downstairs to my parents’ room and walk over to my mom’s side of the bed.  Right away she could tell if I was sick or not.  I still have NO idea how she knew, but she could just tell.  I’d try my best weak/scratchy “Mommm….I don’t feel good….”

I’d go for the vague illness hat-trick: stomach ache, sore throat, headache.  Those three illnesses were easily faked, and could really be anything.  9/10 times, she told me to suck it up and go to school.  But on the rare occasion that she bought it (or, ya know, if I was really sick…once again, she could tell), she’d send me back up to bed.  Sickie Woo!!

The rest of the day was genius.  I’d sleep in, come downstairs and my mom would make me a little bed on the couch, bring me a room temperature Sprite, and some saltine crackers.  To this day I still associate those two foods with being sick.  I’d watch crappy daytime television, and my mom would fill me in on the insanity happening on “The Bold and the Beautiful” and “The Young and the Restless,” (usually involving a discussion on Brooke vs. Taylor, and discussing how Victor on Y&R resembled an older version of my father.)  Someone generally came back to life, evil twins were revealed, and Victor’s voice continued to drop an octave an episode.

I’d nap on and off, watch movies, and pretty much get waited on hand and foot.  Mom would come sit on the couch with me, call me a “Poor little puppy,” and tend to my every need.  Genius, I tell you.

…Turns out sick days when you’re an adult aren’t nearly as fun…

First of all, you can NEVER take a sick day when you’re not sick.  As many of us have discovered first-hand, if you take a sick day when you’re not actually sick, you will soon be struck with a devastating illness, and have no sick days to use.  Karma is such a bitch sometimes.

So I woke up this morning, and instantly knew it just wasn’t gonna happen.  My nose was running and stuffy at the same time (how in God’s name does that happen?), I was coughing AND sneezing, and had the slightest of fevers.  Plus I got up, looked in the mirror, and literally laughed out loud when I saw my sad, sad reflection.  Nope, not going to work.  Swine flu? Maybe!

So I let my dog out and went back to bed (after updating my Facebook status, of course,) and woke up 6 hours later.  14 hours of sleep in one night, impressive even for me.  I yearned for Sprite and saltines, but sadly Mama Cain was nowhere in sight.  Sadie (my dog) sat in her little cubby and looked at me intently, as if to say “What the ‘eff are you still doing here?! This is Monday, you should be at work.  Get the hell out of my room.”  She’s a lovely dog, I swear.

In the next several hours I dragged myself outside (with a hat and sunglasses, so nobody would have to see how tow’-up I was,) and forced myself to go to Walgreens, only to discover that they were pretty much sold out of every legit kind of allergy medicine.  Awesome.  All that was left was a 5 pack of 12 hour Claratin, and to make sure I’m not running an illegal meth lab out of my living room, I could only buy one box.  I rented Marley and Me (for you dog lovers out there, this will only break your heart,) and Seven Pounds (which I will need to re-watch, because I was drifting in and out of consciousness and it made NO sense to me.  Something about a jellyfish? )

At any rate, nobody waited on me, I had to settle for Pepsi instead of Sprite, substituted Ruffles + french onion dip for saltines (that was actually an upgrade),  I surfed Facebook more than a person should in an entire month, and decided to write a blog.   I’m actually looking forward to going to work tomorrow, if that’s even possible.

So yeah…sick days are just one of the many things that get less cool as you get older.  Some other items that fit into this category: UV Blue vodka, birthdays, going out in high heels, really really crowded bars (sometimes I just wanna sit down), really loud music at said really really crowded bars, taking massive amounts of drunken pictures of yourself and posting them on Facebook (not classy, ladies), Christmas, and Spaghetti O’s.

So this was my first real blog post….please comment so I dont feel lame 🙂