Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Let me tell you a story (deconstructed)...

There is a heroine in this story. Let's call her Havarti. Ti for short.

Supporting characters are as follows. She has a love, named Have. He's tall and strong with dark, dark hair. Together, they have a ferocious beast, their black child that they call Feline. In their attic lives a creature family, whom they've named the Patters.

The setting is life. Early twenties. No money. Just the beginning. Its in a city somewhere in the South in the middle of nowhere with hills and gridded streets. The leaves are orange and yellow and red, beautiful. Ti and Have live in a closet of a house that leaks, not water, just bugs. Ti works beside a beautiful old building and deals with all things historic. Have spends much of his time in a smelly place, a slave to needles and knives.

The plot is a simple one, love between the heroine Ti and the hero Have and how that fits into life, which is the setting. Follow?

For the problem, refer to the setting: No money.

For the climax, think: Young; In love; 1.5 jobs to support Ti, Have, Feline and the Patters; Doctor-training amidst hillbillies looming.

For the resolution, refer to the plot: Love.

The End.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Random Thoughts

I am so blessed to have Will for my husband. Monday was his 26th birthday and I completely crashed and burned. Nothing went my way that day and I was feeling just a little sorry for myself. I and the stale chocolate on chocolate cupcake were late for lunch with him; no card in sight. Then, I had to work until 5, while he sat alone at the house waiting for me to get off. I never had the chance to get him a card, because we were off to dinner at his mom's. His present--well, let's just say that didn't happen either. The real kicker: as we laid in bed that night, he held me tight as I cried, repeating over and over how sorry I was and that I was surely the worst wife ever. He gently wiped away my tears while rubbing my back and begging me to stop. He told me to be quiet and comforted me like only he could. I felt like crap, but I was loved and felt it, too.

I really want to go to the fair. I want to take Will to the fair and hold his hand the whole time. I want to see the white cows. I want to touch every animal. I want to ride the swings. TWICE. I want to share a funnel cake with Will. I want to buy a pumpkin. I think we'll go!

I wish that I was a good photographer. I just suck.

There was a dead cricket in my shoe this morning. It crunched as I put my foot in and took a step. The panther was rooting around in it last night, and I thought nothing of it. I should have known there was a cricket-hunt on.

Will is sexy. Sometimes, I just can't stop staring at him. And then, I jump on him.

I did not blow dry my hair today. It is currently slicked back in a ponytail. Hot.

I don't like breakfast food for breakfast. I really want salty noodles or cold pizza for breakfast. Every morning. So, I usually just don't eat.

I've lost 4 pounds just from not using table salt. Crazy, huh?

I sincerely believe that I am about to be very successful. What is that saying? Oh, yeah. 'Pride cometh before a fall.' In that case, it is a wild fantasy.

I think shopping carts should be banned from TJMAXX. The next time an older lady tries to push me out of the way with one, I'm taking her down. Or, at least, shoving my hip into it and saying out loud, 'No, you wait your turn or lose the buggy, lady.'

And those are my random thoughts of the morning while Little G takes his nap.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009


Hello. My name is Bri, and I am a hoover-aholic.

I vacuum every day.

Sometimes, I vacuum twice a day.

Our house is comprised of 3 main rooms.

It takes me on average 30-40 minutes.

One thing I hate almost as much as walking on wet grass, is stepping barefooted on gross stuff like crumbs and dead bugs while walking on the tiled floor of the cottage.

When I get the urge to vacuum, there's no stopping me.

Most of the time, it really annoys Will.

I love the reacher attachment.

Its almost like an extension of my arm.

I suck up everything in my path; bugs (dead or alive), hair, dirt, crumbs.

Will often drops things on the floor near the trashcan, like beans (coffee and legumes), tomato peel, onions, any part of a vegetable that he might at that time be dissecting.

Most of the time, he steps in the aforementioned waste and smashes it into the tile or the rug in front of the sink.

He never "sees" it.

Yeah, right.

I usually gag, point and make a snide remark about dropping crap all over the floor and leaving it.

He huffs.

I vacuum it up.

Friday, October 16, 2009


I'm laying on the couch with my legs in Will's lap as he attempts to massage out my horrible leg aches. The panther is curled up in the crook of my leg, swathed in my white blanket and snoozing. I hope this moment lasts forever.

Thursday, October 15, 2009


Check out the website that Will made for the event I am coordinating in February. I think he did a darn good job!


Monday, October 12, 2009

Quotes of the Day

"Sometimes, I just want to tie our arms in a knot, so I can be close to you."

"I just want to glue you to my chest."

"Can I glue you to my chest?"

-William Carrington Jackson (in reference to me, his baby)

Sunday, October 11, 2009


I just had my culinary wings clipped, and it hurt.

Ever since marrying Will, I have taken on a new role in the kitchen. Before, he and I worked side-by-side producing decent, healthy meals, but now, it is my domain. I am head chef.

It is a role that I have grown to love. I have always enjoyed cooking (without recipes) because of the freedom of creation and because its food, and I love food.

It brings me nothing but pure pleasure to watch Will eat and enjoy a meal cooked solely by me. I have put a few new twists on some old favorites that don't go unnoticed.

"This is definitely the best that you have made" has become a frequent comment from Will. Some of our favorites are Fri' Ri' with squash, zucchini, onions, fried eggs and chicken (if it isn't our veggie night); fried cubed pork with mashed potatoes, DELISH gravy, and stir-fried-then-steamed broccoli; zucchini linguine; turkey quesadillas with my salsa; and tuna cakes over arugula with buttered noodles.

I have also begun a new tradition with boring old sandwiches for lunch, where I toast the bread on a buttered skillet and melt the cheese on the bread before smothering on some mayo and spicy mustard and loading it down with some arugula and sliced chicken. Bread toasted in butter is so much better. Trust me.

Well, today was like every other weekend lunch with toasted chicken and provolone sandwiches. Except, I thought I would make it extra special for Will by boiling him some tomato soup. He likes the Campbell's condensed with milk instead of water. Anyways, the sandwiches were nearly toasted to complete perfection when I noticed that the soup was barely warm. So, I cranked up the temp and put on the lid.

This is a very bad habit of mine.

I like to speed up the cooking/boiling process by placing the lid on the pan, which usually (think: always) ends up boiling over. Usually, it is just water from a pot of butter beans or peas and no biggie. Well, today it was scalding tomato soup that spurted like a volcanic eruption from beneath the glass lid as Will grabbed it off the stove and held it at arm's length to avoid burns, chastising me the whole time, as I stood helpless at the sink and confessed that it "always happens to me, dang it!" It went everywhere and found every nook and cranny of our circa 1980 stove to infiltrate. Boy, did it.

It was so bad that the kodak moment that it was was not captured on camera, because it was such a total mess. (Also, the sandwiches were warm and ready and what was left of the soup wasn't exactly scorched, so still edible, and we were way hungry after a late church service and dun-da-dun!, Wal-Mart.)

After lunch, it was time to face the mess and tackle it somehow. Pretty soon, I was literally up to my elbows in the stove, as it had poured down into the belly of it below the burners, sopping up cold tomato soup with very un-absorbent paper towels. Will was up to his elbows in suds (of course) trying to salvage our very nice (and very pricey) Calphalon stainless steel pot. It was a silent cleaning session.

Needless to say, we now have a very clean stove, including burners, belly and all other attachments and parts, and a very clean pot.

And then the kicker:

As we both laughed over the incident, Will remarked, "Babe, today just isn't your day; you've lost your culinary skills."

Clip. Clip. Ouch.

Saturday, October 10, 2009


This is what married couples do, I guess.

Will came to work with me tonight. Work was babysitting one of Historic Columbia's properties while this couple got married. We sat downstairs in a storage room on uncomfortable metal stools with no internet connection and no other way to occupy our time.

So, we played hangman on powerpoint. And it was fun.

Here are a few words:

This was my word for Will. I went easy on him, because I love him so much.

This was Will's word for me. That jerk. Has anyone ever heard of this word??? He even spelled it wrong. Haaaaaah.

Friday, October 9, 2009

Smells like fall

So, on our first real grocery run after Will and I had moved into the cottage, I picked up the largest canister of "rolled oats" oatmeal you've ever seen. Will's eyes dilated as he looked from me to it barely clutched in my small hand.

"Its economical to buy in bulk," I said.

"You're going to eat all of that?" he asked.

I checked the expiration date which was Nov 2011.

"It'll last until I eat it all," I said.

We got it. It has been sitting on the third shelf of Util (pronounced "you-tul"), our gigantic metal rack that we use for kitchen storage, for nearly two months now, and I've only used 1/4 cup from it. Oops.

So, I decided to make granola. This afternoon. Exactly one hour ago. I used the third recipe that google gave me. It called for a lot of things that I didn't have like cinnamon and 1/4 cup of honey and parchment paper, and also for a lot of things that I really didn't want to use like vegetable oil (yuk). So, I implemented and scrapped by. The finished product was quite possibly the best granola I've ever had.

Here's MY recipe.

Wow. It is so exciting to have my own recipe.

And, this recipe is dictated the way I think every recipe should be, so that wary bakers like myself won't destroy things!


Preheat oven to 325 degrees.

Get out cookie sheet and grease with a few drops of Canola Oil and a paper towel.

Set the cookie sheet near the big bowl.

Chop up 1/2 cup of raw unsalted almonds and put in big bowl.

Toss 2 cups of rolled oats and 1 teaspoon of salt in the big bowl with the chopped almonds.

Leave the big bowl beside the cookie sheet.

In a small bowl, combine with a whisk 3 tablespoons of melted butter, 1 teaspoon of Canola oil, 3/4 cup of packed brown sugar, 1 teaspoon of vanilla, 1/8 cup of honey and 1/8 cup of syrup (think pancakes).

Then, pour over the oats and salt in the big bowl (make sure to scrape the small bowl with a spatula to get all of the sweet goodness).

Use hands to combine the oats and sweet goodness.

Combine until your hands are thoroughly coated in oats and sweet goodness.

Then, scoop up the unbaked granola with hands and spread on the cookie sheet (see why you put the big bowl close to it?).

Pat down with hands.

Scrape gooey unbaked granola from hands.

Lick the sweet goodness off hands and fingers.

Wash hands and fingers.

Place cookie sheet in the preheated oven and time for 10 mins.

Take out
the cookie sheet after timer goes off and take a deep breath (smells like fall!).

Use a spatula to scrape up the almost-baked granola and mix it all around.

Pat down with spatula.

Place cookie sheet
back in oven for 5 mins.

Take out
at timer and place on the stove.

Let the granola sit on the cookie sheet for 20 mins.

Pick it off of cookie sheet after the 20 mins and break into a container.


And, that is how recipes should be written.


Can't stop munching....

Thursday, October 8, 2009


So, my laptop has finally died; turned up its toes; croaked; finished; left this world and me for a better place. I hope it enjoys PC heaven, as I sit here utterly miserable on earth. Not going to lie; my eyes welled up when that blue screen of finality appeared and said "STOP." Its not that it was the greatest laptop ever or I had any certain or special attachment to it, but it was so darn convenient and it was there and I was dependent.

No more late night blogging or facebook stalking while comfortably wrapped in my soft blanket and perched on the sofa. Nope. If I need to check my email or do any other fun and necessary computer things, I have to go into the bedroom and sit under the arctic blast of the AC vent and type on the circa 1995 keyboard of Will's desktop. Pathetic, right? But, my fingers always get stuck on the monstrous keys and I do more backspacing than typing!

I am here to announce that daily blogging is over. I just can't force myself to sit at the desktop, while my leg hair prickles and grows immediately back after my daily shave and my fingers continually jam on the too large keys.

Will you miss it? I doubt it. Hopefully, this will cut out the random rambling of my posts.

I promise to keep my boring and completely irrelevant posts to myself from here on out.

If the death of my laptop has taught me anything, it is to trim the fat. Consider it trimmed.


In other news, Will is officially a med student! We sent off the deposit on Monday. Ouch. That sure did hurt the bank account and my pride. I'm still chugging along at Historic Columbia with more and more opportunities opening up for me as the days go on. I am now super busy and without a computer. Wonderful!

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Who Knew?

So, Will and I are sitting side by side, each on our own computer, wearing our pajamas. Normally, this would not be anything out of the ordinary, except that we have been wearing these pajamas since 11am this morning, when we took a shower and then put them back on.

I know. I know. Gross. TMI. But, we have not set foot outside and Will has hardly left the computer chair. This afternoon, he sat there without budging for 7 hours straight!

Why would he do such a thing, you might ask. Well, because he is doing my job. He is building the website for the event I am coordinating. And, it looks good! Who knew that he was such a whiz on photoshop?

I will post the link as soon as its all done to show him and it off! Should be done by Wednesday.

Soon, I will put his skills to work on my blog. I'm going to have the blingingest blog around. What!

I spent most of the day vacuuming, peering over Will's shoulder, nodding my head in approval, shaking my head in disapproval, washing clothes, kissing my sweet man in thanks and chasing the panther out of our bedroom since she likes to scale our basket-weave headboard. Who knew so much could happen in one day without even leaving the house?

Because I was feeling very guilty for all of the hours he was putting in in front of the computer, I made the most scrumptious dinner I have ever made. Fried cubed pork chops, steamed broccoli, baked spaghetti squash, white rice and PHENOMENAL gravy. Usually, my gravy ends up a gloopy mess of yuk that no one is even brave enough to taste. Tonight, it was perfect. It could have rivaled my grandmother's and that is saying a lot. Who knew I was a gravy master?

It is only 9:47pm. Will and I haven't even been up 12 hours yet. Somehow, we slept in until 10 o'clock this morning. And, for William Carrington Jackson, who sets 7:30am alarms for Saturday mornings (SO ANNOYING), that is a new record! Who knew that William Carrington Jackson could ever in his perfectly-routined-life sleep in?

I'm so proud. Of course, I slept comfortably and unashamedly right beside him.

Saturday, October 3, 2009

A Few Good Things

Here is a montage of a few good things I have done recently, and many that I did today. Enjoy!

Had some Little G and Aunt Beezy time.

This is my favorite corner in the house. It just looks so comfortable and lived-in.

I let Will build the website for my event.

I took the table runner from the top of my chest...

And put it on the table. I can't decide if I like it or not.

I washed the dishes. Thank you!

I let the panther sniff the (NOTICE: dead) flowers and then scolded her for being on the counter, which is a big NO-NO.

I checked on Will.

I put the yummy cookies he made on a pretty plate.

I made lunch. And, yes, those are my pajamas, and I had already showered.

Mmmmm. You can never have too much arugula.

Checked on Will again.

Did not make up the bed or hang up my dress after the grocery run!

Finally watered the dehydrated Basil planter and seeds that we got from the $1 racks at Target. I hope it grows! It looks so forlorn right now.

And, gave the panther a kiss.

Now, I'm snuggling on the couch with my baby.

What a great day!

Friday, October 2, 2009

Feeling Better

So, I was feeling pretty crappy today. My sinuses, just below my eyes, were experiencing tremors from the inevitable earthquake that was about to crack my skull in two. I came home early after a satisfying day of accomplishment, brewed a strong cup of English Breakfast tea and bathed my sinuses in the steam. I laid on the couch, book in hand, with my nalgene, a canister of raw almonds and a bowl of sliced cantaloupe. I ate the almonds until my tongue itched and downed the cantaloupe until my sinus headache was replaced with brain freeze. I read my book and snuggled under my soft blanket as the panther snoozed next to me on her pink blanket.

We were waiting for Will.

He came home, eventually. Upon entering the door, he immediately brought me a glass of Cranberry Grape juice and two Sudaphed. He washed the dishes. Cuddled me a bit. Petted the panther. And, then he boiled my soup, brought it to me on a tray with exactly 10 multi-grain Club crackers. I picked out all of the chunks of dried-out, processed chicken and dug in, soaking my crackers until the perfect mush.

Life is good, and I'm feeling better, now.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

I think I am

So, I think that I am overwhelmed. You would think that it would be simple to diagnose, but I'm not so sure. I have a feeling that I'm not the usual "case."

Let me explain. I thrive on being busy. I love being on the go with places to be and people to see. I don't like being inactive, but lately, I am the epitome of inactivity.

I have a million different things that I could, nope, should! be doing right now. Things that really need to be done right now, and even some that should have been done yesterday. I should be freaking out, but am I?


I am calm, cool and collected, sitting here comfortably on my couch and blogging my life away. But, its like I can feel, rather vaguely, but its there, this feeling of raw panic far beneath my cool exterior. I don't think I am suppressing anything, but how am I not breaking out from stress and fretting over there being too few hours in the day?

Have I cracked?

Dear God, I hope not.

But, its almost like I am negatively responding to this situation. My behavior is inside out. Am I reverting?

I have no idea.

All I do know is that someone needs to light a fire under me and quick! I'm practically moving backwards here!

I think though that I can prescribe myself a few antidotes for this poison of inactivity. Self-prescription must be good for something.

1. I need a schedule. Duh. No wonder college was so easy. With only a few clicks of a mouse, my days were numbered and planned. All the leftover time was easily divided between work and play, maybe not equally but very easily.

2. I need an office. I need to have a reason to get out of bed everyday at 7am and not sit on the couch for 2 hours watching the Today Show, working and sending millions of emails during the commercial breaks or the segments I don't like.

3. I need 3 fewer jobs. Right now, I'm juggling 4 and am about to add a fifth. My fault, I know, but money is tight and beggars can't be choosers, literally. I think the Starbucks at 5 Points is about to become my office. It has gotten to that point.

Well, I guess the one thing to be happy about is that I seem to have left my stressed-out freak-outs in Charleston, where they belong. So long, college.

Is THIS really what the Real World is all about? Give me a 9-5 office any day, please!

Now, all that's left to do is send emails to all of the vendors, guests and committee members for Columbia's Longest Days, fill out the PIF for 1601 Main Street, babysit the Big Apple tonight from 5:30 to 11, wash dishes, scan all of the newspaper adds and compile them digitally, edit the summary for the PIF, begin research on 1631 Main Street, build a website for Columbia's Longest Days, change the sheets, add pictures to the Lourie's brief, begin on the other briefs, etc.......