tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36441519894540886532024-03-13T19:31:03.021-07:00Life in the fast lane....behind a minivan.Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.comBlogger44125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-28250115753393079062015-02-15T18:56:00.001-08:002015-02-15T19:06:45.338-08:00I'm positive it's Valentine's Day.I have been one of those girls that is more often than not, single on Valentine's Day. For years I dreaded it and complained about it, pressing for sympathy from others. Then I rejoiced when someone came up with SAD or Singles Awareness Day. Yay! All of us singles get to cry out in pain "Thanks for the reminder!" with multiple voices raised up in negativity against the injustice! As if it was someone else's fault that we were single. Mmmmmmyea.<br />
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For years...ok, decades....I had been riding the negativity train that most of society rides. Several times over the years I wanted off and while I'd hop off for awhile, society would eventually drag me back on. Its hard to have a different point of view than the masses. When you do, people think you are weird. How do I know this? Because I used to look at people that were happy all the time as weird! They just weren't normal. Who could you be happy 24/7 when people took pride in cutting each other down and bitching about EVERYTHING? Nobody likes a Debbie Downer but we've been breeding them in droves!!<br />
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I had glimpses of living in bliss and joy but it was impossible to stay there. Everyone liked to bitch and complain about their boss, their spouse, their roommate, the moron at the drive-thru. It was our way to bond with others. I still struggle with finding positive things to talk about and sometimes I just sit there in silence because in my head this is the conversation I'm having...."Nope, can't say that, its negative. Nope. Can't talk about the moron at the dry cleaners that screwed up the alteration cuz thats complaining.".....I'd end up in "Soooooo.....WOW, have we been having gorgeous weather or WHAT!?"<br />
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Good grief. Pretty sad.<br />
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So yesterday I refused to bitch and moan about being single....again. I knew I'd read enough on Facebook from others so I decided to hatch a "Grateful for You Day". I mean, seriously, Valentine's Day is just a commercial holiday where a lot of pressure is put on couples to "love" each other by buying crap. Tell them you love them by buying jewelry! Chocolates! Take them out to dinner! Buy the perfect roses! Don't end up in the dog house!<br />
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This year it dawned on me that I am thankful to not have that pressure! So I thought I would instead focus on the people that I DO have in my life, instead of that ONE that I don't. I really am blessed to have so many friends and family that are smart, funny and just downright weirdos! Of course I love weirdos because I am one myself, so I took to Facebook to give a shout out to everyone in my life because it feels so much better to send out that goodness than be panhandling for sympathy! </div>
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And to my awesome friend "Hooka", she got this from me, her "Bitz". </div>
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#HappyValentinesDay #ValentinesDay #StoneColdWeirdos #KanyeLovesKanye #Kanye #Hooka #Bitz #Positivity #Love #Hearts #Grateful #DogHouse #Consumerism #CommercialCrap</div>
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What did you do for Valentine's Day and what does it mean to you?</div>
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<br />Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-35852451766182995492015-02-04T20:30:00.000-08:002015-02-04T20:30:00.091-08:00Worst. Wingman. Ever.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I guess I shouldn't be surprised because as you can imagine, most guys don't come running up to a 6lb dog and squeal in a high pitched voice "He's so CUUUUUUTE!" So I get it, mistake number one on my part.</div>
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I could have got a bigger, more "manly" dog, but I've always liked miniature things. Ask my dad. He actually made me a mini chest of drawers for all my little trinkets because I was fascinated by them as a kid. Not sure why, but there is nothing cuter than a little dog. So compact and adorable. And if they start acting like a stubborn burro, you just scoop them up and carry on. Plus Monkey doesn't really shed and he's easy to fold up in carry-on and fly all over. Most dogs haven't been to the 4 corners of the United States, but this one has.</div>
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So out on walks, like most dogs, he's focusing on one of two things. Things to pee on and things to eat. Not surprisingly, his sniffing style changes between the two. For the "peeing" category, his sniffing is usually centered in one area. Lots of minute nose movement and very few leg movements. But when there is a Taco Bell or Carl's Jr wrapper in the vicinity, the mode switches to fast and furr-ious. (Must find food. Must find food. Must find food.) </div>
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Monkey thinks he's sneaky and doesn't realize I know the difference. So when he happens upon a rogue chicken wing, I'm usually arriving at the same time and the tug of war begins. If I don't happen to catch it, an entire burrito or Egg McMuffin could be devoured in one inhalation. Have you ever watched a dog unhinge their jaw?</div>
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And while, yes, girls are drawn to him and swoon over his adorability...thats a word right?...I didn't figure that he would actually hit on them first, but he does. </div>
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"Hey pretty lady? You single?"</div>
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On occasion a man will come over and wanna say hi and pet Monkey but the face he gives them is the Captain Boredom pic below. Meh. Completely disinterested in them, practically peeing on their legs and pulling at his leash to continue our walk, the guy gets the feeling that my dog hates them. Thanks Monkey. If I make him sit still for a few minutes, he'll start complaining.....LOUDLY. </div>
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"YEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOW!"</div>
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A few weeks ago, while we were out on our evening walk, he kept stopping and looking behind him. I wasn't sure why he was doing this so I kept dragging him forward. But over and over he would stop and look behind him. Finally <b><i>I</i></b> stopped as well and looked behind. Two gorgeous 20-something blondes going out for the eve. Monkeys tail started wagging faster and faster as they approached and he gave off a few excited howls as they got closer. </div>
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"OHHHHHH! HOW CUUUUUUUTE!" </div>
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(my ears started bleeding)</div>
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Don Juan Chihuahua strikes again.</div>
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Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-13958226293377468292015-01-27T19:10:00.000-08:002015-01-27T19:10:03.112-08:00When you think it's over....it's just beginning!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We're taught to go to school, study hard, get good grades, go to college, get a degree, get your career going, move up the ladder, then retire. But guess what? The game has changed. I did all those things. My parents made sure I got a great education and even sent me to art school for college. Despite most parents fears that art school only cranks out starving artists, mine knew that wasn't going to be my fate and they were right. </div>
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I graduated with a Film degree, moved to LA and became a movie trailer editor. I busted my butt and sacrificed to reach my goal and created an amazing life for myself. I got a 6-figure income, my dream car, a place by the beach, traveling to Europe every other year and getting my work in front of Oscar winning directors wasn't bad either. I'd reached my goal and expected to just sit back and enjoy my life....and then it happened.....plot twist! I lost my job.</div>
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Over the past few decades, I'd refused to see that the economy was evolving and I'd ignored the signs. For the past generations it was the "40 hours a week, for 40 years" plan and that's what I trusted, but things changed. All the sudden 9-5 isn't secure anymore and certainly no one stays in one job for 40 years. Whether its their choice or not it doesn't matter because job security is gone. It doesn't exist. Unless you are in a government job or a union, you are rolling the dice every single day.</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">"Should you find yourself in a chronically leaking boat, energy devoted to changing vessels is likely to be more productive than energy devoted to patching leaks." - Warren Buffett</span></div>
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The boat is sinking in the 9-5 job world and it's time to find a new boat, a better boat, a different boat. So I've had to do a lot of soul searching as well as investigating new avenues of income because a paycheck is an outdated idea. </div>
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Many of my friends have found new ways to live beyond the 9-5 with fantastic results. Passive income and residual income are new avenues they've discovered that actually work and people are happier as well as paid better! The brilliant thing is that part of this journey is really asking yourself what you are passionate about? What gets you out of bed each day? What brings you great joy? Why couldn't those things pay you handsomely? Ever hear "do what you love and the money will follow?" I've watched many of my friends become pioneers in these new directions with staggering results. They are happier, more content in their souls, spend more time with loved ones and are paid beyond what they ever imagined! Who wouldn't want that life? There are new boats out there, better boats, different boats but we first have to let go of the one that has failed us and is sinking.</div>
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So in a way, this has been a blessing. I've been forced off the Titanic and had my fingers unclenched from the side. I don't really like change....ok, I loathe it but its been essential in my growth over the years. Moving cross country at 21 was a really difficult change, but I did it because I had to. I was drowning. So here I am again, in the water, drowning. Luckily, I have friends on the new boats offering me a hand. And come to think of it, even though my parents came from the "40 hours a week for 40 years" generation, it doesn't mean they did that. They owned their own businesses, several in fact. Their mantra has always been "I'm still trying to figure out what I want to do when I grow up." Very good advice and I think I'll take it.</div>
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Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-24911051240570747032014-09-10T00:24:00.001-07:002014-09-10T00:24:07.718-07:00Save me!I've really been wanting to blog, but there has been such a swirl of things going on that trying to pin down one thing to blog about was like trying to wrestle a chicken leg away from Monkey. But tonight I thought about a major turning point in my life that recently happened and I thought I'd share it because it literally unlocked so much for me. Dare I say, it unlocked the true me.<br />
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The past 2 years have been brutal on my self-esteem, my future, my friendships and how I viewed myself. I got really lost and tumbled like I was caught in a wave. A few times I didn't know which way was up and felt like I was being held under water....my biggest fear, by the way.<br />
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So the past few months, I've worked on getting my head back above the water, then looking for a life preserver......and then a freakin' boat to finally get me to shore! What's funny is that life, truly is like being lost at sea sometimes. Days can be calm and beautiful, while others are dark and stormy with waves tossing you around, desperate for a breath of air. But being lost at sea is difficult because you aren't living you are just trying to survive and that single solitary struggle can exhaust you not only physically but also mentally. When you are focusing on survival, you aren't even looking for a way out, its just staying alive. Looking to be saved typically requires others to help you. A boat. A plane. A dolphin that talks....but that would be a hallucination you'd have while surviving and possibly ingesting too much sea water. <br />
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So it comes down to a moment when you are crying out for someone....ANYONE to save you....and they don't ever arrive. So what do you do? Give up and die? Or try to save yourself?<br />
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That's where I ended up a few weeks ago. I was struggling. I was hurting. My life wasn't working the way I wanted or thought I deserved because I'd worked SO hard for SO long only to have it all washed away in a blink. I was truly lost and started searching for answers and was looking for them in a way I did many times. Looking for the answers in others. People popped in my head, "Oh, I'll ask her!" or "Wait, I think he could shed some light on this!" but then I'd feel the emptiness. It's like that feeling when you eat something you'd been craving or buy something you'd been wanting. It'd bring joy for a moment and then the emptiness would return. <br />
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I spent a few weeks twisting on this because I KNEW no one had the answers. I knew it was empty and it frustrated me. I wanted to kick trees and throw rocks at street signs. I just wanted so badly for someone to save me, to give me the answers, to unlock something inside me! Then one day the answer came but it wasn't what I wanted to hear. I heard loud and clear that "I" had to find the answers within. Its funny because for so many things in my life I knew this concept, like when it came to me understanding that I had to leave a job or I'd leave my sanity. Or my time in a city had run its course and it was time to move on, but looking inside to find the answer to open myself up?! Insanity! Especially since I was so guarded and scared of certain aspects of who I thought I was.<br />
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Two weekends ago, I was on Week 3 of Lori Harder's Bliss Habit and surrounded by several friends, when the flood gates opened and they OPENED WIDE! It was a torrent of tears releasing years of pent up frustration, fears and horrible messages I had running in my head. I thought the wall within me was just one of 4 walls, in a room of my subconscious but it was more like a wall holding back secrets and lies. Once I let them out, I felt the light within me turn on brighter than I'd ever imagined. I felt free. I felt like the boat finally arrived to pluck me from the ocean and it was a boat that I had manifested just by finally knowing and acknowledging that I had the answers the entire time. <br />
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The funny part about manifesting is that you don't really have to do much, its just knowing that something is what you want and letting the "how" be up to the Universe/God and then trusting that. So many things I've manifested in my life like the car of my dreams, a beautiful beach bungalow in Southern California and now a life without limitations. I found the key and it was inside me the entire time. The voices in my head told me I didn't know anything, I was worthless, I had nothing to contribute to the world, I wasn't good at certain things and therefore should never try but now I know that I can do ANYTHING especially because I have that "pull" in my gut that hasn't failed me yet. Its the same pull that told me I had to leave the east coast for the west. The same pull that told me I had to leave one city for another even though I knew no one in the new city. I just always trusted the pull and I think that nagging pull brought me through the worst struggle of my life these past 2 years to deposit me right in front of my bliss, my gift, why I was born. I just had to unlock it.<br />
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While the struggles were horribly difficult and they almost took me under a few times, I fought for my life. I fought for my breath and I saved myself. I ACTUALLY saved myself and saving myself taught me that I am worth it and I do know some things, some pretty amazing things! But most of all it taught me to trust that pull and hang on, no matter what because if I'm powerful enough to save myself, I can do anything. I am no longer just surviving...I am finally living. Go me!Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-22884274941030559022014-06-13T15:41:00.000-07:002014-06-13T15:41:43.324-07:00Are you alive?<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">As I sit here and really think about the life I've already had, it amazes me. I've lived in some amazing cities, I still call home and visited many more around the world. I am so blessed to have the friends I have and am excited everyday when I think about who I may meet. The opportunities I've been given are endless and I'm so glad that I said yes to them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I also recognized that if I had let fear engulf me, I wouldn't have moved to all these cities, traveled to the others, met all these amazing people, I call friends and been given all these opportunities. I looked fear right in the face, took a deep breath and had nothing but faith that it would all work out because I wasn't going backwards. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">For some reason, I don't have a reverse. When I left the east coast for the west, many thought when things got tough I'd go back. I'd just look at them crazy and say..."huh?" That was never a thought to me. It was always "ok, whats next?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Where are you in your life? Is it what you wanted or are you stuck? Is going backwards an option or do you push forward, excited at the next opportunity that will come? Are you in a career that gives you the life you want and inspires you? Do you realize you can have anything...and I mean ANYTHING, if you are willing to stare fear in the face and laugh at it? What's the worst that could happen? You learn and then you try something else, but you are moving towards your dreams and it will make you feel ALIVE! So are you living?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">This is our one shot. We don't get a do over in this body, at this time. Are you living the life of your dreams or are you just waiting for the clock to run out? The amazing life you want is out there and it's achievable. I know because when my life hits a wall, I start looking for opportunities and they will FALL into your lap when you are open, I promise you! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">Fear is just False Evidence Appearing Real. Are you going to let something that you've made up in your head stop you? You want to know true fear, go walk on fire. I've done it. It's real and it CAN hurt you but get your mind in the right place and you will be unharmed on the other side. So why do we let the THOUGHT of "what if I fail?" stop us? It's JUST A THOUGHT! Fire is hot but a thought...is still JUST a thought. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">So. How do you want your life? Feet cemented to one place, going through the same grind day after day? Or do you want to fly and have endless possibilities? It's really quite simple. Open your eyes and your mind...then decide. :)</span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">Sent from my iPhone</span>Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-56573124399029815962011-12-13T09:12:00.000-08:002011-12-15T14:02:42.929-08:00I have something to say!!!I know its been a super long while since I've written anything, but its usually because my life is a bunch of crap. And so....well, its still a bunch of crap but I'm now back in the world of cyber-dating. Oh, yes, I said it......I'm BACK, meaning I've been there before and honestly didn't like it the first 47 times. And no they don't have a t-shirt, but thanks for asking.<br />
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No, no, this is about the "bait" that guys are using to reel us ladies in on the internet and there seems to be a few trends. The first one is the "Dig Me". They are the guys that think their car should speak for them. This is what one of them looks like and lemme tell ya, I think its pretty funny that we have a better shot of the car than HIM! Sign me up! I'll date his CAR!! But does HE have to actually be in the car too? Ugh. Forget it then.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xHh39Ao1cbg/Tua7JLKXomI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/1Oy0p45BOlo/s1600/ztub0555vk_170670796-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xHh39Ao1cbg/Tua7JLKXomI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/1Oy0p45BOlo/s320/ztub0555vk_170670796-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">MmmmHmmmmm, moving on. While we are on the subject of cars, can someone PLEASE explain why guys like to take pictures of themselves in their cars and most times, actually DRIVING? What is that all about? Its obvious that they took the pics themselves but what is that really about? We can't see the type of car that it is unless you know a thing or two about cars like I do, but most women don't so I don't get it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Hold please while I ask my male friend. Hopefully he can clear some of this up. In the meantime, check out these "I'm-driving-in-my-car-and-think-I-look-really-cool" pics. Oh and also check out the Blu Blockers that ALL of them are wearing! Hey 1992 called and it wants its sunglasses back. WTF?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Qk83_SXZ990/Tua9HpDCROI/AAAAAAAAAEo/xv-F7wlPQU8/s1600/carddude.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Qk83_SXZ990/Tua9HpDCROI/AAAAAAAAAEo/xv-F7wlPQU8/s320/carddude.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Look a preppy driving and taking pictures of himself! Yay!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ok, so update from a guy. He says that a.) guys take pics in cars because they are usually all dressed up and going somewhere so they think they look the best and/or b.) guys won't ask friends to take pics of them. He could not, however, explain why some dudes are actually driving while they are taking their pics. Thinning the herd I suppose. I just hope they don't thin those of us that don't wanna be thinned! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-btdy719PEhA/Tua9IHB4GXI/AAAAAAAAAEw/iGHa4yR3JTE/s1600/ceosfz55rc_169279697.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-btdy719PEhA/Tua9IHB4GXI/AAAAAAAAAEw/iGHa4yR3JTE/s320/ceosfz55rc_169279697.jpg" width="238" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Nice chain dude.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6rBYN-0c3XA/Tua9KLkf-VI/AAAAAAAAAFg/w8bq5Ph7p3E/s1600/tg5wiz552p_156290511-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6rBYN-0c3XA/Tua9KLkf-VI/AAAAAAAAAFg/w8bq5Ph7p3E/s320/tg5wiz552p_156290511-2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">Oh and gents, another thing, why are NONE of you smiling? Would it kill ya to show some teeth?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">(Don't even get me started on the Ed Hardy. Thanks Jersey Shore.)</div><div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dXUVgFJltRc/Tua9Jp1H4MI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/9-kRbY8JZ5M/s1600/obklnmjtyz_169857955-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dXUVgFJltRc/Tua9Jp1H4MI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/9-kRbY8JZ5M/s320/obklnmjtyz_169857955-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"I'm the driver of a limo, so this isn't even my car.......but I still look good.....yeeeeaaaa"</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y_l0jkdtsbg/Tua9HZcMWsI/AAAAAAAAAEg/50d9qNoKagI/s1600/buuqijfz3n_172386141.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y_l0jkdtsbg/Tua9HZcMWsI/AAAAAAAAAEg/50d9qNoKagI/s320/buuqijfz3n_172386141.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ok, this guy looks good in his sunglasses but he looks mean. I don't like mean. Mean is mean. Mean is like, someone stole my donut and now I'm mad mean. Mean.</div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Next we have MORE sunglasses, but this time its from his mom's kitchen. Yippee!! Mmmm, whats mom cookin'? Smells delish! Must be fish head stew because ole boy don't look too happy. MmmHmm.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pu8m5vODg-0/Tua9J0G1rCI/AAAAAAAAAFY/WaMhoyNHidU/s1600/qdwhmom5ky_107286641.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pu8m5vODg-0/Tua9J0G1rCI/AAAAAAAAAFY/WaMhoyNHidU/s1600/qdwhmom5ky_107286641.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Maybe it wasn't mom's kitchen but Uncle Sergio's. Uncle Sergio? Is that you?? You're on here too? And this is your main profile pic? Mmmm, we need to talk about the wife beater, reading glasses and the "sauce" on the counter. Sends the wrong message I think.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xLNi-Guh8GA/TubAaIU6jrI/AAAAAAAAAGE/2bcPl-aDVhc/s1600/f40jcebnd2_138169926.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xLNi-Guh8GA/TubAaIU6jrI/AAAAAAAAAGE/2bcPl-aDVhc/s320/f40jcebnd2_138169926.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Oh shoot and cousin Pedro! I didn't know....I mean, its cool yo, I just didn't think......cuz you know.....you said you and the ladies are......well, yea.......I mean.......nevermind. Uh, but put on a shirt would ya? Thanks.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ebYPY2f0_lQ/Tua9HGbQWoI/AAAAAAAAAEY/2_K_oY2K-ew/s1600/0sbkw3iybv_140046640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ebYPY2f0_lQ/Tua9HGbQWoI/AAAAAAAAAEY/2_K_oY2K-ew/s320/0sbkw3iybv_140046640.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Now we have one that makes perfect sense! Ok, not really, unless you are in the market for a perfectly formed and groomed.......tricep! Yep, there it is!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">But why?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gndcYDs_mNo/TubB5F02O4I/AAAAAAAAAGM/E5bE_b1FbyY/s1600/k2jbllnhdk_171073852.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gndcYDs_mNo/TubB5F02O4I/AAAAAAAAAGM/E5bE_b1FbyY/s320/k2jbllnhdk_171073852.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(*shaking head*)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Nice boobs by the way. They are so......perky.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Moving on.....</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Next we have.....and I'm not kidding you.....this is the guys MAIN and ONLY picture on his page! I don't get it!?! What am I missing? I know he's missing a shirt and well....a head....but why!?!? A farmers tan and a flat tummy? Mmmmmmkay. How could a girl say no!?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">No.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PTcpruR0STM/TubCcdJoHbI/AAAAAAAAAGU/jzDJybHf_Jw/s1600/xb24qi45ck_172820710.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PTcpruR0STM/TubCcdJoHbI/AAAAAAAAAGU/jzDJybHf_Jw/s320/xb24qi45ck_172820710.jpg" width="292" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Finally, I've been complaining that these guys never show teeth, so here's what I get:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c3eNj4Xq-gw/TubDSELGnlI/AAAAAAAAAGc/gn-qfuaOy3Q/s1600/uwoxgiqd32_123278388-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c3eNj4Xq-gw/TubDSELGnlI/AAAAAAAAAGc/gn-qfuaOy3Q/s320/uwoxgiqd32_123278388-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Yep.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And finally. This one gets the Grand WTF?!?! Prize.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TI5VD7v7eeU/TubDhToSTZI/AAAAAAAAAGk/LHfSWx-6Ojw/s1600/fkn51a45nt_172114498.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TI5VD7v7eeU/TubDhToSTZI/AAAAAAAAAGk/LHfSWx-6Ojw/s320/fkn51a45nt_172114498.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Say it with me now. W. T. F.</div><br />
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</div>Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-58527591151900162792011-05-04T16:59:00.000-07:002011-05-04T16:59:10.310-07:00I think I used to like weekends.Do you remember when weekends were all about laying about with a jumbo bag of Doritos and nothing to do but channel surf? Yea, me either. <div><br />
</div><div>What happened? On Monday, my next weekend looks like an open, endless block of time just full of a whole lotta nothin'! Aaaaand then the week rolls on to Tuesday....oh, right, crap. Laundry needs to be done. Fine, but I got the WHOLE rest of the weekend to watch dust bunnies mate! Aaaand then....oh....right, gotta vaccuum because the dust bunnies actually HAVE been mating. They have mated on every surface, on every rug and apparently are now mating with the hair bunnies. Well, fine. So what, I still have the ENTIRE weekend to lay around and watch infomercials and catch up on my 37 DVR episodes of Top Gear! </div><div><br />
</div><div>Argh. I forgot I gotta get my nails done because its starting to look like I stop my car with my hands, Flintstone style. Ok, well...yea and while I'm at the mall, I'll return that shirt. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Sweet niblets.....the car needs to be washed and I mean REALLY washed. I found out birds CAN get diarrhea and my coffee exploded all over the dash yesterday. The radio is stuck on some Tejano station and while I don't mind a polka styled tune at a wedding perhaps, rolling around LA with the top down and "Toro Relajo" blaring outta my car may send the wrong message. Especially since I already get enough attention from the beat up pickup trucks with the lawnmowers in the back and 16 guys shoved in the cab. Gotta draw the line somewhere. Si! Bueno! Gracias!</div><div><br />
</div><div>No bueno.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Then the checkbook needs balancing, bills need to be paid, need to mail that care package, get to the gym, water the plants, wash the dog, clean up the guest room, reorganize that drawer, drop the clothes at Goodwill.....</div><div><br />
</div><div>Do you see where this is headed? No wonder I'm exhausted Monday mornings and I'm sure I'm not the only one. I hate the endless lists of "to do's" and its one reason I don't go to church because thats one more thing to do, plus I need to shower for it!! I honestly don't shower much on weekends unless there will be another human within 10 feet of me because I have no FREAKIN TIME and its one more thing TO DO!!</div><div><br />
</div><div>Wow, now the whole idea of marrying and having children downright frightens me. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Although....with lack of sleep comes some level of ignorance is bliss, so it may be a good thing! And.... maybe I'll make friends with the interracial dust bunnies and name them "Harry" and "Fluffy" and maybe I can train them to find the remote should I have a daydream about the days I used to sit on the couch and stare at a 1080p screen but perhaps I won't since I can't actually recall when I ever did that.....or I'll just teach them to bake cookies. Yea. That's a good idea. Ok, bunnies, but wash your hands first.</div><div><br />
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</div>Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-58596651744611758212011-02-01T16:38:00.000-08:002011-02-01T16:38:25.546-08:00Possibly Offensive Ponder...although it shouldn't be.I have this thing that I do when I'm curious about something. I try to break it down and take it back to a simplistic thought to gain perspective. Now this one idea I kicked around may be offensive to some, but I hope not, because its not intended to, its just merely me trying to find some truth in a world of opinions. It is a controversial conversation for sure, especially if you are Christian, but hear me out first.<br />
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I have listened for years to people talk about homosexuals and whether they are born that way, are a product of their environment or its learned behavior. I happen to believe they are born that way and I will explain how I came to this conclusion using my simpleton breakdown method I mentioned above. Let me just say that I believed they were born that way long before I came up with the simpleton method of breaking things down and heres why.<br />
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I babysat two kids in the farming community I grew up in back when I was a teenager. I only babysat them once, but the little boy made a huge impression on me. The boy was about 5 years old and his sister was around 7. Lets call them Max and Lisa. (I honestly don't remember their names) So Max was very dramatic, full of high energy and carried himself with a lot of female mannerisms. He liked to play dress up and wanted nothing more than to play Barbies with his sister. When his father came home, he was upset to see his son wearing a skirt, carrying a purse and playing with dolls. He told me that he would rather his son play with trucks. The father tried to pull the "girl" toys away from him and Max just broke down and fell to the floor wailing. And maybe this is why I was never asked to babysit again because I allowed him to play with the things he enjoyed. <br />
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I remember being so fascinated with Max because I loved seeing him happy playing with the girl stuff. I grew up with two brothers who thought Barbies were "dumb" and I think I would have enjoyed having a sibling who liked to do the same things I did, even if he were a boy. I mean, seriously, kids don't care and make judgements, adults do. Max's father was clearly embarrassed and ashamed that Max played with girl stuff and I found that quite sad. I remember thinking that there was no way little Max could have learned to like girl stuff and carry himself like a girl. His father was a mans man and we had no openly gay community in the cornfields that I was aware of. People were farmers. Men were men and women were women so he clearly didn't pick this behavior up around him. That was when I figured out that God made him that way. (I am also aware that Max could have just been transgender and not gay, but still, my point is, its not a choice.)<br />
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On top of homosexuals being born that way, lets think about the reality of society being so cruel to gays and not allowing them equal rights. Like marriage! HELLO!!?! People deserve to be happy! Two men or women marrying does not affect me negatively AT ALL. I'd much rather have a gay couple on my street with the same rights as the rest of us so they can share their lives legally (if they choose) and take part in the American dream and be HAPPY instead of feeling like they are less than. I mean, seriously, you stay out of my bedroom and I'll stay out of yours! Getting back to my point, with the lack of compassion and acceptance from a great deal of society, why on earth would anyone CHOOSE that? It makes me bananas when I hear someone say they "choose" to be gay! Why? So you close minded folks can look down on them and tell them they can't marry and are sinners? THATS INSANE!<br />
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This whole thing got me thinking. And based on what I witnessed with little Max, I was curious to figure out a better argument about how homosexuals don't "choose" to be gay, but just are, God made them that way. (I know that ruffles feathers because of that great book of fiction that says that its "a sin". Yea, whatever.) Heres where this took me. <br />
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If you take a Darwin approach that we all evolved from apes, this actually can make a lot of sense. So lets go back to caveman times for argument sake, before texting and cars and aluminum siding. Caves, trees, rocks, plants, animals, clans of humans. At this time in evolution, it was all about survival and its still this way out in the wild, survival. So lets say we have a clan of 10 males and 12 females. (just pulling numbers from the sky) The bottom line for these people is survival. Some will die of illness or animal attack or stupidity (Darwin Awards started a long time ago) but overall there needs to be balance. So I wondered in this delicate balance if God would create some of them gay for the purpose of population control? What if God made 2 of the men, out of 10, like other men? If this happened, they would only want to have sex with other men and therefore, no children could be born from this natural urge to have sex. I think that God decided to do this as a part of that balance because if all 10 men were knocking up the 12 women, there would be too many mouths to feed and they would perish during times of lean eating. There are so many variables but what if this was the baseline reasoning? <br />
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Think about it and come to your own conclusions, this is just mine.Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-87700207399376973372011-01-04T17:18:00.000-08:002011-01-04T17:18:06.730-08:00Nothing to talk about.Its been a reeeeeeally long time since I've posted anything, but frankly I haven't had much to talk about. In fact, I've been utterly bored with my life and thus felt the need to spare you all from my holding pattern of limbo that beats me down a little more each day. To give you an example, here is my Groundhog Day that can be plugged into any Monday- Friday.<br />
<br />
Get up.<br />
Go to the Gym.<br />
Walk the Dog.<br />
Shower, Eat, Pack Food, Get ready for Work.<br />
Drive to Work.<br />
Get Coffee.<br />
Work.<br />
Commute Home.<br />
Walk Dog.<br />
Eat Dinner.<br />
Go to Bed.<br />
<br />
Doesn't get more exciting than that folks. A Certified 100% pure Groundhog Day. Shoot me now. Its funny too because people think since i work in Hollywood, drive a nice car and live by the beach that my life must be AMAZING!!!<br />
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Its not.<br />
<br />
Its boring.<br />
<br />
Its lonely.<br />
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Its repeated and its mind numbing.<br />
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Don't read this wrong, I am thankful I have a job and all that, but is my existence for the greater good? Am I curing cancer? Am I leaving a mark? Am I doing anything noteworthy or just taking up space? I guess we all feel that to a certain extent, but I think I'd feel like I was doing something valuable if I were raising children or something. This is where stay-at-home moms should really see how valuable they are. Raising another human to carry on after them is noteworthy. If I never have children, what will be my legacy? Getting you fine folks to waste money on seeing/buying movies that you didn't really want to watch or buy in the first place? What kind of legacy is that? Will I be noted for ANYTHING? "Hey that Kira, she really did amazing stuff! She managed to stop by Starbucks each morning before work!" or "Wow, that Kira! She was amazing huh?! She walked the dog TWO TIMES a day! TWO!! WHOA!!"<br />
<br />
Yea.<br />
<br />
No.<br />
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I'm not saying my life would be perfect if I had a husband and kids, but having a family gives you purpose to getting up each day. Sharing your life and experiences with a family unit makes you feel like your existence is justified and its nice to have people to witness you and your life and vice versa. Being part of a unit makes you think of others and the greater good of the family. Some people do better being selfless than selfish. I think when you are alone you don't care about a lot of things like you would if you were part of a group. Maybe I'm rambling like a crazy person and it would stand a fit argument for someone like me who has been flying in circles to nowhere day in and day out for years.<br />
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To quote my favorite musician Nik Kershaw:<br />
<br />
"Cold and lonely, tired and bored<br />
just like the day before<br />
Missing out on life's rewards<br />
of that you can be sure<br />
So bring on the dancing girls."<br />
<br />
<br />
So back to my hole. Waiting for the alarm to go off so I can repeat the same day again and again. <br />
<br />
Yip.<br />
<br />
Yip.<br />
<br />
Yip.<br />
<br />
Yippee.Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-2127734662944749292010-10-04T11:07:00.000-07:002010-10-04T13:17:48.799-07:00BullyingThere has been a recent wave of news stories involving bullying. Its amazing that it is now becoming a hot topic because bullying has been going on forever. But with all the new ways to communicate and "broadcast" our lives, it makes sense that its getting more airtime.<div><br /></div><div>The biggest story that we've all been hearing about is the Rutgers freshman, Tyler Clementi. <a href="http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-504083_162-20018385-504083.html">http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-504083_162-20018385-504083.html</a> This story is incredibly tragic. Because homosexuality is still seen as something "bad" and "wrong", many of our young people try and fly below the radar and avoid questions about their sexuality and just cover it up altogether. They shouldn't have to, cuz guess what, God made them this way and God loves them too. Loving someone of the same sex isn't wrong, its what feels right to them and I say if they are lucky to have found love, then they are truly blessed! </div><div><br /></div><div>It would be amazing to see what would happen if we all stopped judging each other and instead understood that we all want the same things. We all want to be happy. We all want to love and be loved and we all want to be heard and accepted. Imagine a world where we accepted and celebrated that people were different? We could learn a lot from each other if we could only close our mouths and open our minds. There is just too much intolerance and too many messages telling us that we are not okay just as we are.</div><div><div><br /></div><div>With this in mind, there are some amazing things happening. First of all, I think MTV's new show "If You Really Knew Me" is brilliant. I don't even care that they don't play music videos anymore with shows like this. It really gets these teens to remove the mask that they live through everyday and expose who they really are. We ALL have fears, we ALL have insecurities, we ALL feel stupid, or put down, or not good enough at one time or another and anyone who says they don't, is flat out lying. </div><div><br /></div><div>This show takes on the head cheerleader and the popular jocks who seem to have it all and you know what? They don't. All they do have is an ability to cover up what is going on for them with a smile because maybe they were taught that it wasn't okay to be anything but perfect. They have learned social skills to interact and hide all the pain and pressure they feel on a daily basis and pretend that everything is "perfect", but it never is. </div></div><div><br /></div><div>When I was in school, I actually cycled through different ways of dressing to finally find myself. I went to public school through 6th grade and we were all just a bunch of back woods country kids without much money who all pretty much accepted each other. I remember some kids were waaaaay more attractive than me and some of my crew, but no one really made fun of anyone. I actually got lucky because I was quite a sight during those first 7 years of school. I had bucked teeth, short, stringy, greasy hair and glasses with bifocals. (Know any other 8 year old with bifocals?) I knew I was a mess and waited daily for the teasing about how I looked like a boy with overhanging Bugs Bunny sized chompers....but it really never came.</div><div><br /></div><div>Even without the bullying, I still retreated into a world of keeping quiet and trying desperately not to stand out. Invisible was my name and I was good at it. I remember a kid in 3rd grade named Dion who had a wooden leg. Not really sure why he had the wooden leg, but kids were mean to him. He always seemed so resilient to it, even taking off his leg at recess and chasing kids with it who had made fun of him, all the while laughing. He didn't seem to need a savior but I'll bet he really would have appreciated someone standing up for him. I wish I could have been that person, but I had way too many things that kids could have zeroed in one and I wasn't about to step into the fire.</div><div><br /></div><div>Junior high and the first year of high school I spent at an exclusive private school full of rich kids, with lots of money and lots more attitude. I was hitting puberty and on top of the glasses and now, braces, I had ridiculous acne. (Sweet! Every preteens dream!) Luckily my parents did their best to dress us like the others in polo shirts, khakis and L.L. Bean bulcher shoes and boy was I even MORE of a mess. Those that know me, know that preppy ain't a good look for me, but it allowed me again to fly under the radar and stay out of sight. But because of this "invisible" shield I wore, it kept people away and made me look unapproachable. </div><div><br /></div><div>I remember walking down Senior Hall to go see my oldest brother at his locker. I was terrified to walk by the other seniors because I was a freshman and I was waiting for them to tell me to get the hell out of there, so I adopted the "Fuck You Face". This is the meanest most angry and tough face that I could conjure. Every time I walked through Senior Hall I'd wear it and finally one day my oldest brother told me that the seniors were afraid to talk to me because they were afraid I'd beat them up.</div><div><br /></div><div>Wow.</div><div><br /></div><div>Me? Beat someone up? I was a total chicken, but no one saw me that way and they were scared of me all because I didn't want to get picked on. Then I felt bad that I couldn't let my guard down. I did get to know some of my brothers friends, but I still felt like an ugly nerd that was a total retard and part of that came from the fact that I was failing out of that school. I think I got "D's"in all my class but Art and Music. Hmmmm.</div><div><br /></div><div>My final three years of high school, I spent at an all girls boarding school and what a savior that was! The most incredible thing about that place was that you had kids like me from the boonies and kids of super wealthy NYC elite and we ALL got along and treated each other with respect. Sure there were groups of the wealthy kids and the not so wealthy, but the groups intermixed and mingled nicely. I'm not gonna say there was no teasing and making fun of people, but there was a lot less and more of a sisterhood.</div><div><br /></div><div>When I first arrived my tenth grade year, I still wore the preppy look from my previous school and I had long stringy, greasy hair. Before dinner that first night, I had had my roommate cut my hair into a cute bob and had taken on a nickname because I was really, really tired of "Invisible Kira". She was a mess and I needed to become someone new so I could find out who I really was.</div><div><br /></div><div>This school was incredible for me and it allowed me to spread my wings. By my senior year, I was sporting a mohawk and had explored all kinds of artistic areas. I had performed in musicals, art shows and even learned to play bass guitar in our all female band. I was in heaven because I had found things that I was good at and since the student body was more about supporting one another than tearing each other down, I blossomed.</div><div><br /></div><div>I wish all kids had this kind of school to go to. I got really lucky that my parents recognized that I was drowning in my second school and that I needed a new environment. God only knows where I would have ended up if I had continued the years of feeling like a failure. It saddens me that some kids just fall through the cracks and don't get a chance to spread their wings, especially if they are bullied. If I had been picked on through those rough years, I would have become even more invisible and shut down than I already was and it was only because I knew that I wasn't attractive by societies standards. Its too bad that we can't focus on nurturing our kids talents more and less on looks because one day they are leaving us, like it or not!</div><div><br /></div><div>Today, Joe Jonas posted a short video blog about bullying and I commend him for it. <a href="http://www.cambio.com/shows/cambio-cares/on-bullying">http://www.cambio.com/shows/cambio-cares/on-bullying</a> So many kids look up to the Jonas Brothers and I really hope it inspires some kids to maybe stand up for the "Dions" in their schools. I know its hard because no one wants to become a potential new target but other kids would sure have respect for them if they stood up for someone else who is getting picked on. Even just sitting with a loner at the lunch table could change an entire schools dynamic. I really hope things change because its unacceptable for this to continue. No one should want to take their life for just being who they are and the teen to early twenties are when we are trying different things to see what works for us. This is our building and growing time and its not usually pretty but we should be allowed to have it because it makes us better people when we figure out what we love to do and who we want to love. We can be authentic. We can be real and I don't know about you but I sure love spending time with someone who is real because they feel like sunshine and fresh air. Fake people just downright bore me and its makes me sad that they don't know who they are because I'll never get to know who they are either.</div><div><br /></div><div>I wish I were a celebrity because I would make a point to go around to schools and share with kids what a mess I was growing up, but how it all worked out in the end. Because I was unattractive and fell on my face several times, I was able to sculpt who I truly am underneath it all and take off the pieces that didn't fit. I realize the blessings that I have and I am now thankful for those "10 Years of Humbling" as I like to call it. It made me who I am today. </div><div><br /></div><div>I was lucky that I wasn't endlessly teased. There were many things that I could have been taunted about, but let's look out for those who aren't so lucky. Let's take a stand for those who are just exploring who they are, whether it be through an odd way of dressing or the "nerdy" activities they enjoy. Just remember......karma is a bitch and it may be coming for you! That day that you get your dream job and the CEO is the tech geek from your high school, you'll either be thanking yourself for standing up for him/her or you'll be quickly looking for a new job!</div>Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-57315824657932641662010-08-19T12:04:00.000-07:002010-08-19T12:53:54.355-07:00Been awhile.I realize it has been some time since I have blogged and honestly, I just haven't had anything to say. The summer weather has been non-existent here in SoCal this year and its hurled all of us that actually live at the beach into a depression of epic beer drinking proportions. Yes, even me! I had 2 beers last weekend! *gasp!* I know right? The world must be ending.<div><br /></div><div>But really, it has been so colossal-y boring that my humor has left me. I have had weeks of "Groundhog Day" syndrome. Get up, go to the gym, go to work, come home, go to bed. I'd end it all if it weren't for the one true beacon that keeps me going in this world......that February brings Girl Scout cookies. Yes, Thin Mints are my life support right now.</div><div><br /></div><div>How did my life get this sad and boring? I should have a super exciting, super amazing life! I mean, I guess I sort of do, but the day to day is a dronefest. Hmmmm. Lemme take an inventory of my life and the good things. </div><div><br /></div><div>1. I live 2 blocks from the beach. Normally this is a plus, but these days its a reason to look for sharp objects, but we'll still put that in the positive category......for now.</div><div><br /></div><div>2. I drive a beautiful sports car that I never imagined I'd own. Aside from the fact that a new set of tires is $1600+, an oil change is $600 and windshield wipers are $65.......I'll still put that in the positive category. </div><div><br /></div><div>3. I have my health. I just came off a month long illness that developed into bronchitis and now impacted sinuses.....BUT, I'm still gonna put that in the positive category because I have all my limbs and the ability to move them.</div><div><br /></div><div>4. I have a job. I'm not posting a downside to this, because in this economy, just being employed at ANY job is a plus. AND I actually like what I do and my boss, so yay! One TRUE positive!</div><div><br /></div><div>5. I have great friends. Again, nothing but net on that one. CHING!</div><div><br /></div><div>6. I have a great family. Makes me want to adopt orphans because everyone deserves a family even if they are like peanut brittle and it takes a lot of sugar to keep the nuts together.</div><div><br /></div><div>7. I have a sweet, healthy little dog that makes me laugh. For those of you that are single, you appreciate the presence of a beast at home. No matter what kind of beast that is.......unless its a male roommate that makes the soap in the shower look like a hamster because he doesn't understand manscaping. Hence the reason I don't have a male roommate. I like my soap hair free.</div><div><br /></div><div>8. I have multiple creative talents. Painting, photography, playing music, building things....now if I can just find time to actually create something.</div><div><br /></div><div>Wow, I'm feeling better already. Now if the sun would come out, although we are all betting (praying) that this will lead us to an indian summer. We deserve it after this summer and the last one. All this crap about global "warming". You won't get anyone in the beach community buying that crap. Its been global freezing for us and its a good thing I have an impressive and extensive collection of hoodies! And my neighbor makes fun of me for it.......until she needs to borrow one.</div>Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-52176453132888932872010-07-21T15:48:00.000-07:002010-07-21T18:43:36.007-07:00Parking Nazis in Hermosa Beach.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZOFMf3dfdqE/TEeiOOYynJI/AAAAAAAAACI/RqHfiZO0tMk/s1600/Hermosa2.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZOFMf3dfdqE/TEeiOOYynJI/AAAAAAAAACI/RqHfiZO0tMk/s320/Hermosa2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496540235492924562" /></a><br />Gotta tell you, there are MANY things I love about Hermosa Beach. Many! The beautiful beach, my awesome neighbors, hot firemen, great restaurants and there is only one thing that makes me hate it.....the city office that controls the parking passes. Yea, yea, yea, I get it. People are trying to scam them into getting guest passes and temporary passes and stickers all the time. There are a lot of shysters out there. But I am not one. <div><br /></div><div>In the morning, a few weeks back, I was driving down the main drag of Hermosa Avenue, on my way to Starbucks and saw someone pulling out of a parking space. I put my blinker on, stopped and within a minute, was rear-ended by a box truck from a lighting company. Old boy wasn't paying attention. Clearly. The upside....if there is one in this situation....my car surprisingly suffered little damage. (The box trucks grill was smashed and was leaking several fluids....serves him right!) Anyway, the downside was now I had to deal with getting my car fixed. Luckily, the driver, Scruffy, I'll call him that since he hadn't seen a razor in awhile, Scruffy fully...and rightfully...admitted to the accident, so then began the dance of exchanging information.</div><div><br /></div><div>Fast forward a week or so when I get the rental vehicle while my car is in the shop. Since I have lovely neighbors, they let me leave my new Ford Escape.....dreadful vehicle....in their garage the first night, since there was no way it would fit in my tiny garage....unless I wanted to sleep in it. SO....I march on down to the Office of Finance at Hermosa's City Hall to get a temporary parking pass after I left the gym that morning. I brought the things I figured I needed, like a utility bill and the car rental agreement. As lovely as these local people are, they are really quite odd. They are all women and they stand behind the main desk and stare at you with the blankest of looks. I couldn't even VENTURE a guess as to what is going on in their heads....its like they are poker players...or....or....missing cerebral activity. They must train 'em like this because its bizarre and uniform to all the workers. </div><div><br /></div><div>Anywho, I walk in, praying this will be a breeze. I tell the young lady I need a temporary pass for a rental car for a week....and she stares at me....a good 15 seconds.....as if I had asked her if it'd be alright that I park my spaceship on city hall....and then she says, "Do you have the estimate from the repair shop?" </div><div><br /></div><div>"Uh, not on me. But heres my utility bill and my car rental agreement."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Here is our fax number."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I can't just get the pass really quick? I'm late for work."</div><div><br /></div><div>"We need the estimate to determine how long you need the pass."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I told you, till the end of the week. Friday. Its Tuesday. So that would be only about 3 1/2 days."</div><div><br /></div><div>"We need the estimate to determine...."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Um, yea, you said that....uh, okay. Thanks for being so helpful."</div><div><br /></div><div>As soon as I get outside the office, I call the repair shop, explain the sitch and ask them to fax over the estimate. He says he will take care of it. I also explain I need it sent now because I need to pick up this pass....now.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I leave, go home, take the poor chihuahua on a supersonic walk, shower, shovel food in, get all gussied up and zoom on back over for another staring contest. The same young lady helps me and stares at me as if we have just met.....so I explain it again....</div><div><br /></div><div>(AHA! I just got it! All the Stepford wives live HERE!)</div><div><br /></div><div>Once I go through it all again, she goes to the fax and says nothing came in. I tell her I called them over an hour ago. Nope. Nothing. </div><div><br /></div><div>Dern.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I call the repair shop.......again.</div><div><br /></div><div>Explain myself.....again.</div><div><br /></div><div>Ask them to fax it now.......again.</div><div><br /></div><div>Thank them......again.</div><div><br /></div><div>(Jeopardy music playing as we wait...)</div><div><br /></div><div>"Oh here it is." She says 10 minutes later. It finally comes over.</div><div><br /></div><div>The young lady then starts examining my other paperwork and informs me that my phone bill is too old. "Its two months old" she tells me. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Its from June"</div><div><br /></div><div>"But its July"</div><div><br /></div><div>"But I haven't gotten one for July yet and its NOT 2 months old."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Do you have a more current utility bill?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Do you have a new facial expression?" (Sooooo badly wanted to say that, but didn't)</div><div><br /></div><div>"Uhhhh....OH! I just got my gas bill sent to me via email this morning on my phone! Here! Here, this is current!"</div><div><br /></div><div>(I point to the place where it says "Gas Company" and the place where it says my address and an amount.)</div><div><br /></div><div>"I need something to determine the address for the bill."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Uh, its right there!" I point again.</div><div><br /></div><div>"No, can you log into your account?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"On my cell? That'll take hours and I don't even have AT&T but it'll take me that long to figure out my password. I'm on auto-pay. They send me this bill, they take my money from my account. See? Real simple....unlike THIS!"</div><div><br /></div><div>"I will have to speak to my manager."</div><div><br /></div><div>At this point, I am a weeeeee bit annoyed and can't believe this girl is giving me so much crap. I just need a pass for 3.5 freakin' days and then the ridiculous Ford Escapes-my-mind-why-anyone-would-buy-it, can go back to the rental car agency. Why is this so hard? I am at the end of my rope.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Look, I don't have time to go home and get another bill that I don't even have anyway because all my utility bills are on auto pay except my Verizon cable which IS HERE. Can you please just give me the pass so I can get to my job that I am ALREADY 20 mins late for? I'm not asking you to build me a freakin' garage!"</div><div><br /></div><div>She finally starts filling the pass out and tells me the pass will cost $1.</div><div><br /></div><div>I put a dollar on the counter.</div><div><br /></div><div>She continues......slowly filling out the pass....</div><div><br /></div><div>"Next time you will need to bring a more current utility bill."</div><div><br /></div><div>This time *I* stare at HER.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then she says, "The pass is good through Thursday. If you need the pass through the weekend, you will need to bring the new estimate and a more current utility bill."</div><div><br /></div><div>"So I'd need to come back Friday and do this dance again with you?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"No, we are closed Fridays."</div><div><br /></div><div>You gotta love small towns.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-87814557919110835682010-07-20T12:48:00.000-07:002010-07-20T13:18:03.863-07:00How NOT to name drop.Alright class, settle down. We are going to go over a very basic social <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">phenomenon</span> and how NOT to do it. Yes, name dropping. <div><br /></div><div>I recently and unwillingly fell into a conversation with a coworker that I'll call "PJ". He's one of those guys that constantly has to prove that he is relevant and knows something, despite his being much younger than the rest of us and therefore less experienced. And instead of just kicking back, opening his ears and maybe learning a thing or two, he insists on telling stories about when he worked here or there and blah, blah, blah....ow, my ears are bleeding...</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, one day he shares with me the mother of all name dropping stories. And much to my delight, I will now pass it on to you! (hopefully YOUR ears won't bleed) So, here he is excitedly standing in my doorway, eyes all lit up and trying so hard to win my approval, so he launches into this story:</div><div><br /></div><div>"Ok, so like, I was at a restaurant one day with my friends and I'm all, dude, our waiter looks familiar and so I say to my friends 'Dude! Our waiter looks familiar' and they're all 'Dude! Yer right! He does look familiar!' and so I'm all, huh, I wonder where I know him from and then he like, opens his mouth and he's like, got an Australian accent and he's like, Asian, and thats really unusual, cuz Asians aren't from Australia, so I'm all, dude, I know who this guy is! And my friends are all, 'Dude! Who is he?' and I'm all 'Dude! Its the guy that played the best friend of the one girl in the sequel of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants!".</div><div><br /></div><div>(this is where I am staring at him.....occasionally blinking....)</div><div><br /></div><div>After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, I finally say,</div><div><br /></div><div>"I have no f**king idea who you are talking about."</div><div><br /></div><div>Wind out of his sails, he's defeated, but for the love of God! Does ANYONE know who the hell he is talking about?</div><div><br /></div><div>Name Dropping Rules:</div><div><br /></div><div>1. Don't tell your story in one long run on sentence.</div><div><br /></div><div>2. Don't use the word "dude" where a period should be.</div><div><br /></div><div>3. MAKE SURE THE CELEB IS ACTUALLY SOMEBODY THAT PEOPLE KNOW!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't know what to do with this kid, but people, let this be a lesson! If you are going to go out on a limb to name drop, have it be about someone like Bono or Lindsay Lohan! At least we could launch into a conversation about how do you think Lilo will fair in jail or something! Poor little dude. I probably crushed him, but I seriously had no F-in idea who he was talking about and if any of you DO, please send me a link because I don't know any Asians that actually come from Australia! Hahah! Silly kid, actually thinks that that was a possibility! Aaaaahhhh, youth!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-11916333892761374032010-05-21T13:45:00.000-07:002010-05-21T15:23:33.398-07:00Costco discriminates against single people.Think about it for a second. How much sense does it make for a single person to go to Costco? I mean, I guess its great if you have a large freezer and don't mind eating chicken every day for 2 months, but lets face it, its really not designed for us single folks! I, for one, actually have one of those 3/4 size fridges, so I can fit even less and each time I open the damn thing, something is always bound to come shooting out at me. Rogue broccoli, disgruntled fish filets.....not sure how they'd become disgruntled.....or even what that means, but they are on a mission to GET OUT. <div><br /></div><div>But back to Costco, grrrrr Costco. You know what they need? A singles area! Seriously! A place where us unattached can hang out and buy single servings of things at a reasonable price....and maybe have a bar! Yea! Yea and a rope to keep the families out! "SINGLES ONLY" I love it! I mean seriously, I go there and I get run over by the screaming children whose mom has already given them too much candy, and shes in a bad mood so she is hellbent on running us singles over with her shopping cart cuz we look like we haven't a care in the world. Then the dads that almost look like they'd rather be anywhere else, except for the fact that Costco places the electronics RIGHT INSIDE THE FRONT DOOR. (they aren't stupid) So the dads are stuck, all glossy eyed looking at the 6000" inch plasmas and mom is trying to wrangle the chickens...er, kids and then us single folks end up looking at the books and DVDs because we couldn't possibly eat those portions of food in a year!</div><div><br /></div><div>Which brings me to my next thought. How much are you actually saving? Stay with me on this one. You see a 10lb bag of peanut M&M's and you go, "FIVE BUCKS! FIVE BUCKS? Really?!? WOOHOO!!! FIVE BUCKS FOR M&M's!!" You take those colorful little nuggets home and they become your friend. You love them and hold them close, even wrapping the bag up in a blanket on the couch so its cozy while you enjoy them as you watch your favorite reality train wreck.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then it happens. That day comes where you finish that bag. And guess what? </div><div><br /></div><div>THAT 10 POUNDS OF M&M's IS NOW RESTING COMFORTABLY ON YOUR ASS!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>So.....now what do you do? You start shopping for gym memberships. How much do you think it will cost for the three months it will take you to get those M&M's off your ass? (And whatever other snacks you got on the cheap at Costco?) It ain't gonna be $5 and I'm guessing those M&M's are now gonna cost you more like a few hundred. So is it really worth it?</div><div><br /></div><div>And while we are STILL on the subject of Costco, whats up with the "family packs"? ANOTHER way Costco discriminates against singles. Don't you even need a "Family Membership" card to BUY the family packs? No? Well, I'm shocked. I'm sure they are working on one to further alienate us singles. </div><div><br /></div><div>"I'm sorry ma'am, you have no husband or children, you can't buy that family pack of shampoo. We need proof of a household bigger than...ahem, one."</div><div><br /></div><div>"But I have a dog!?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Sorry spinster. Move along. NEXT!"</div><div><br /></div><div>Yea, yea, yea. </div><div><br /></div><div>Speaking of family packs. Here's something to ponder. A family pack of condoms. Thats right........hmmmmmmm?!?! Shouldn't it be the NON-family pack? I mean EEESH!! First of all, is the father and son sharing them? Eeeeeewwwww!! And then isn't it a contradiction to have something that PREVENTS a family, packaged FOR a family?</div><div><br /></div><div>Serious head scratcher.</div><div><br /></div><div>Talk amongst yourselves.</div>Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-21490290994770756612010-05-12T20:33:00.000-07:002010-05-12T22:09:00.518-07:00Hocus Pocus saved me.Two years ago, when I had to put my dog Peanut down, I injured my back. My chiropractor called it "Sympathetic Lower Back" and said its pretty common when someone experiences severe trauma. The moment I realized my dog was gone, I fell over onto the exam table, burst into tears and my back was "broken". <div><br /></div><div>For the last two years, despite Advil, visits to the doctor, heat, ice, stretching, laying down, it didn't matter what I did, my lower back had CONSTANT pain. Each morning I woke up, I was like an 80 year old. I DREADED waking up because I had a day ahead of me and I had to fight through the mind numbing exhausting drain of pain. Just walking my new dog Monkey was a chore. I'd have to ice my back and stretch it on a stability ball just to be able to walk without severe sharp pains. I hated having to pick things up off the floor because I felt like my back would spasm and go out. I could only sit in a chair or on the couch in certain ways. Moving to a new position was difficult. Getting in and out of the car was almost impossible.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was in hell.</div><div><br /></div><div>Two days ago I went to a doctor of chiropractic who also does chakra balancing and other energy work. I went to her because I thought one or all of my chakras were blocked because my dating life was such a disaster. But because they ask you a host of medical questions, she inquired about my back. I told her I've always had a bad lower back because I injured it at 22 by throwing 100 lb bags of dog food around when I worked for an animal hospital. For the past 20 years, I'd thrown it out here and there, but it was never as horrific as it became when I put Peanut down. </div><div><br /></div><div>The doctor laid me on a table and slide her hand under my lower back and then checked my body's energy reaction to that quick touch. She told me, "Thats grief. Are you ready to get rid of it?" I burst into tears and said yes. She sat me up and had me place my hand on my forehead and she started a series of touches on my back. I'm sure she did some other things but since she told me to concentrate on the grief, I was focused on the moment Peanut left me and the planet forever. She then had me lay back down and told me that it was good I was crying because that means I released it. I was so distracted by the rest of the visit where we covered a gambit of subjects that I didn't really take note of my back till I was at the office several hours later.</div><div><br /></div><div>My lower back pain was gone.</div><div><br /></div><div>Gone.</div><div><br /></div><div>I could move again. I went from feeling 80 to feeling 30. I couldn't believe it was true and I was skeptical that it would stay. I figured I'd wake up the next morning and be all kinked up again. But no. THANKFULLY.....no. I felt like a new person! I had energy, I wanted to skip, I wanted to dance, I wanted to sing, I wanted to tell EVERYONE! I......just........couldn't believe it.</div><div><br /></div><div>But here it is 2 days later and my back is still free. I caught myself slouching last night and it dawned on me that I haven't been able to do that for 2 years! Hahaha! I know I'm not supposed to slouch but it was so amazing to be able to do that and a thought about it never crossed my mind because there was no pain. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm still amazed I suffered through 2 years of that. Two years. No wonder I was exhausted all the time, I was fighting the pain. What on earth will I do with myself since I don't have that battle? Hopefully date and finally get married! Hahah! But in the meantime, I think I'll watch some tv.........and slouch!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-49573988906483619322010-05-09T12:21:00.001-07:002010-05-09T12:22:59.680-07:00One more thing....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZOFMf3dfdqE/S-cLRug0UuI/AAAAAAAAACA/CeS3j9D3-84/s1600/1199068217_14d730a0a1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZOFMf3dfdqE/S-cLRug0UuI/AAAAAAAAACA/CeS3j9D3-84/s320/1199068217_14d730a0a1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469352671636116194" /></a>After my Ryan Reynolds arrives, that I ordered a few days ago, I'm ordering this! *sigh* Gotta love some Hugh Jackman. Mmmm, Mmmm, Mmmm!Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-32251494465502678972010-05-09T11:25:00.000-07:002010-05-09T12:15:07.189-07:00Open mouth, insert foot.Do you ever open your mouth and just puke out something so fast that you didn't even consider running it through your filter, only to sit back and think "Aw crap. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Shoulda</span> edited that one"? So then you have two options. Backpedal like you are going for Olympic Gold and thus look like a nutjob, or you can try to distract and redirect everyone onto a new subject. Whatever the solution, you then end up running that conversation over and over in your head for months, perhaps even years, wishing you hadn't opened your mouth at all.<div><br /></div><div>Its really quite funny how hard we are on ourselves. I said something yesterday that wasn't really that awful and it actually required some explaining, but once you say something kind of offensive and stupid, people have already made a judgement about you, so is it really necessary to try and frame it up for them?</div><div><br /></div><div>I had met up with a friend, her daughter, mother-in-law and some people she knew to hang out and chat after being at the beach for a bit. We got on this conversation about Facebook and how its the new anti-socializing socializing, which is actually perfect for me, being the social retard that I am. Anyway, so we were talking about peoples updates and how it really tells us a lot about them. My friends MIL stated how this one "friend" of hers actually thinks she is quite important and has to state where she is at all times and who she is rubbing elbows with, while another seems to just broadcast how negative and depressed they are. Neither are things I hope to be broadcasting, so I say "How do mine come across?" My friend replies "Yours are just sarcastic." to which I reply "Eesh, I hate sarcastic people". My friends MIL's eyes, whom I've met several times before, got really big from this comment. As if to say "Well, hell, she must hate me then!"</div><div><br /></div><div>Now, since I have time to explain to YOU, I will defend my comment....although I really wish I had run that sucker through a filter because I would have said instead "Really? Huh. Interesting!" Here is where my mind went immediately. </div><div><br /></div><div>I thought about the dating world. I thought about all the guys I have gone on dates with who were SO SARCASTIC aaaaalll the time, that there wasn't a shot in hell that I would ever get to see who they really were. It was really exhausting. So now, if I read a guys profile and he says he is really sarcastic, I avoid him....at all costs. And maybe that is wrong of me, but I have been to hell and back with the sarcastic jokesters that are terrified to even let a bit of who they really are out.</div><div><br /></div><div>So am I sarcastic? Me? Naaaaaah.......ok, maybe a litte. But I feel there is a time and place for it. I am learning and growing with its use. I rarely bring it on dates because it keeps my date at arms length and if I do bust it out, I make sure it is TOTALLY obvious that I am being sarcastic so there is no question of "was she kidding?". Its difficult enough to date, but to add a guessing game on top of it makes it downright painful. (I'd rather have my nails ripped off with pliers.....and yes, that was sarcasm) </div><div><br /></div><div>This all leads me to wonder......how annoying is sarcasm? I like it at times, in the right situation, but do other people get annoyed that I am like this? I then think, do I really give a crap what people think? I guess a little, but more of it is to make sure that I am bringing a balance to it all. Like our conversation about peoples updates, I have friends that have one level of updates and its either they hate the world ALL THE TIME, or they love every day with passion ALL THE TIME, or they are telling us they are going to bed EVERY SINGLE DAY. I try really hard to not post the boring "I just got back from grocery shopping". I try and make them at least a little interesting. Yes. Sometimes I am just at the beach enjoying the weather and I have to share, but do I feel the need to post the ENTIRE experience? No.</div><div><br /></div><div>10:52 "Going to the beach!"</div><div><br /></div><div>10:57 "Yay! Laying on the beach!"</div><div><br /></div><div>11:03 "Wow, the waves are HUGE today!"</div><div><br /></div><div>11:05 "Just watched a surfer go over the falls!"</div><div><br /></div><div>12:17 "Maybe I need some sunscreen."</div><div><br /></div><div>12:31 "Sunscreen on!"</div><div><br /></div><div>Alright....I'm bored just writing that. But my point is, I try to write things that are all over the place and somewhat interesting even though they may be twisted at times. (I blame my parents! You know who you are!......sarcasm.) So I will try to employ my filters a wee bit more. I know I have them....somewhere. In the meantime, I think I'm going to the beach and I need to update my Facebook status immediately with this because people want to know EVERYTHING I do! (I'm very important you know.)</div><div><br /></div><div>(sarcasm)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-63503715451683532972010-05-06T12:46:00.001-07:002010-05-06T12:47:57.340-07:00Still waiting....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZOFMf3dfdqE/S-McwOtOq8I/AAAAAAAAAB4/4wjSHyupoVU/s1600/ryan-reynolds.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZOFMf3dfdqE/S-McwOtOq8I/AAAAAAAAAB4/4wjSHyupoVU/s320/ryan-reynolds.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468245987465014210" /></a>Note to self: Order me one of these!Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-73647096808060728342010-05-06T12:24:00.000-07:002010-05-06T12:45:27.707-07:00My sister in-law is fired.Freakin' family! Every day I check a few things religiously to get my day started. One of them is the Cake Wrecks blog (http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com/) because who doesn't love to point and laugh at baking disasters!? And one of the other is my sister in-laws blog. (http://bigskyknitting.squarespace.com/) I like reading her blog because it gives me an inside view into their day to day lives as well as the weather and other happenings up there in Montana. I like knowing what is going on with my nieces even if its dance class or band rehearsal. It keeps me in the loop and my SIL's writing style is amusing so its great fun to read about her run ins with a repair person or why my brother torched her entire garden. Good stuff.<div><br /></div><div>But recently, she has been busy and because of this, the blog entries have been sporadic. I know I'm one to talk, but if I have nothing interesting to say, (or if Blogger DOESN'T SAVE AN ENTRY I SPENT 2 1/2 HOURS ON!) I'm certainly not going to bore you poor people. So it seems I must suffer on.........waiting.........patiently............oh and my niece is graduating from high school next month, so I don't know why she is busy........dum dee dum dum dum .......*tapping fingers*..........*whistling*..........*flossing teeth*...........*filing nails*..........Hmmm? Yep, I'm still waiting.......*more whistling*...........I'm hungry. </div>Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-35468739427835998742010-04-30T13:49:00.000-07:002010-04-30T13:55:15.905-07:0019 Things You Should Never Say to a Single Person<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-family:arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><div class="articleHeader" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: -35px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; position: relative; width: 510px; "><em style="line-height: normal; color: rgb(231, 124, 0); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; font: normal normal normal 22px/normal arial; display: block; margin-top: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><br /></em><em style="line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; font: normal normal normal 22px/normal arial; display: block; margin-top: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">Alright peeps. I'm stealing this from a blogger for Glamour. I just </span></span></span></em><em style="line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; font: normal normal normal 22px/normal arial; display: block; margin-top: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">couldn't have said it better myself and please note, they are ALL </span></span></span></em><em style="line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; font: normal normal normal 22px/normal arial; display: block; margin-top: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">annoying but my least favorite, meaning I will want to put a gun </span></span></span></em><em style="line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; font: normal normal normal 22px/normal arial; display: block; margin-top: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;">to my head, is the old "It'll happen when you least expect it."</span></span></span></em><em style="line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; font: normal normal normal 22px/normal arial; display: block; margin-top: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', helvetica, clean, sans-serif;color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></em><em style="line-height: normal; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; font: normal normal normal 22px/normal arial; display: block; margin-top: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman', helvetica, clean, sans-serif;color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Okay, just shoot me now.</span></span></em><em style="line-height: normal; color: rgb(231, 124, 0); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; font: normal normal normal 22px/normal arial; display: block; margin-top: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><br /></em><em style="line-height: normal; color: rgb(231, 124, 0); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; font: normal normal normal 22px/normal arial; display: block; margin-top: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">19 Things You Should Never </em><em style="line-height: normal; color: rgb(231, 124, 0); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; font: normal normal normal 22px/normal arial; display: block; margin-top: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; 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color: rgb(11, 138, 170); text-decoration: none; font: normal normal bold 10px/normal verdana; ">Add to del.icio.us</a></li><li style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 5px; padding-right: 10px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 10px; list-style-type: none; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; font: normal normal normal 11px/normal arial; color: rgb(128, 128, 128); background-image: url(http://l.yimg.com/a/i/us/per/abk/btn/1/btn_utbar_i_1x22_i_nrm_1.gif); background-repeat: repeat-x; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-color: rgb(255, 173, 51); background-position: 0% 100%; "><img src="http://l.yimg.com/a/i/us/per/abk/icn/1/icn_diggthumb_i_10_i_nrm_1.gif" alt="Add to Digg" style="line-height: 13px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 5px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; position: relative; top: 2px; " /><a href="http://us.lrd.yahoo.com/_ylt=AnTltHVnPECdTc_IqD37uKCMVLx_/SIG=180givnej/**http%3A//digg.com/submit%3Fphase=2%26url=http%253A%252F%252Fdating.personals.yahoo.com%252Fsingles%252Fdatingtips%252F89007%252F19-things-you-should-never-say-to-a-single-person%26title=19%2BThings%2BYou%2BShould%2BNever%2BSay%2Bto%2Ba%2BSingle%2BPerson" title="Add to Digg" style="line-height: normal; color: rgb(11, 138, 170); text-decoration: none; font: normal normal bold 10px/normal verdana; ">Add to Digg</a></li></ul></div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; "><em style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; ">As a writer, I avoid cliches like the plague...HAHA!</em> But seriously, cliches are old, tired, and they show absolutely no thought. I mean, do I make you read that some guy's skin was as white as snow? No. It's a major insult to your intellect. So when I have to hear a cliche or overused saying in the real world, as a response to my newly single status or some other<a href="http://personals.yahoo.com/" style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(11, 138, 170); ">dating</a> dilemma, it's offensive and frustrating."</div><span class="block" style="line-height: normal; margin-top: 20px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: auto; font: normal normal normal 13px/normal georgia; color: rgb(128, 128, 128); ">More Glamour:</span><ul style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 10px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 15px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "><li style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 5px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 20px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "><a href="http://www.glamour.com/sex-love-life/2009/01/5-secrets-all-guys-keep-from-you?mbid=synd_ypersonals" style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(11, 138, 170); ">Five Secrets All Guys Keep From You</a></li><li style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 5px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-left: 20px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; "><a href="http://www.glamour.com/sex-love-life/2009/09/12-secret-signs-hes-into-you?mbid=synd_ypersonals" style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(11, 138, 170); ">12 Secret Signs He's Into You</a></li></ul><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; ">Why do we have so many sayings and maxims for dating? A single gal is likely to get slammed with them ad nauseam as soon as she expresses any unhappiness at her situation.</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; ">Since we could all use a good laugh, I asked some friends and Twitter followers to send in their most hated adages. I know you've heard them all before, but I just couldn't believe how many there were! Here's a tiny compilation. Enjoy -- today, they're not directed at you!</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; "><em style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; ">It happens when you're not looking.</em> "This is just bull. Some people find people when they're looking; some don't. You're not doing anything wrong by going out and meeting people." -Beth</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; "><em style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; ">There are plenty of fish in the sea.</em> "I dated a guy whose last name was Fish. People just had a BLAST with that one." -Kelly</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; "><em style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; ">So, why are you single?</em> "I generally dislike this question. I mean honestly, if I knew why, I don't think I would be single right now, now would I?!" -Erica</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; "><em style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; ">You're too picky.</em> "This may be true, but it feels like I'm getting criticized for my taste, vision, and close-mindedness -- when I'm already down." -Sarah</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; "><em style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; ">You'll find the right person for you.</em> -Kelly</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; "><em style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; ">He's out there.</em> -Kelly</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; "><em style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; ">It was just bad timing.</em> "Like it's so easy to dismiss a guy on such an emotionless and objective reason." -Taryn</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; "><em style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; ">Just have fun with it!</em> "Um, don't tell me how to date in my thirties when you got married at 24." -Maya</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; "><em style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; ">Have you tried <a style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(11, 138, 170); ">online dating</a>?</em> "Duh!" -Elisa</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; "><em style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; ">He just wasn't the right guy for you.</em> "I know! That's what I'm complaining about!" - Elisa</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; "><em style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; ">Well, when Steve and I first got together...</em> "Wait, I still want to talk about me." -Elisa</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; "><em style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; ">When the time is right, you will meet someone.</em> -Betsy</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; "><em style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; ">Wow, I wish I were single and in your shoes!</em> "Really?! I'm pretty sure you CAN be single if you actually want to be. That there is an attainable dream, so if you aren't messing with me right now out of pity (which I suspect you are), please go for it!" -Kim</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; "><em style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; ">Your turn next [at weddings].</em> -Natlondon, via Twitter</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; "><em style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; ">It will happen when you least expect it.</em> -dlegas05, via Twitter</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; "><em style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; ">Some guy is going to come along and ruin your career/life plans.</em> "I am 32 and no one has ruined the last 10 years of plans." -frolicblog, via Twitter</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; "><em style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; ">But you're so pretty! Why don't you have a boyfriend?</em> "There's just no graceful way to answer that." -earnesteats, via Twitter</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; "><em style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; ">It just wasn't meant to be.</em> "Any of these platitudes are exponentially more annoying when coming from the mouths of smug marrieds." -Reberoodle, via Twitter</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; "><em style="line-height: 15px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; ">Sure, Steve rescues kids from abusive homes, donated my sister a kidney, and picks up fresh flowers for me daily on his way home from work, but will he QUIT IT with the sports on TV already?</em> "Single people just hate to be complained to about petty relationship stuff. If you do this, I'm not going to want to hang out with you. (In fact, maybe I'll call Steve and ask him if he wants to watch the Yankees game?)" -Kim</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; ">Bottom line, if you're in a relationship or married and you don't have any specific, original advice or wisdom for your single friend -- and you must use an established saying -- we would prefer to hear neutral ones like, "This too shall pass" or "Take it one day at a time." They are so much more helpful and comforting -- you have no idea!</div><div class="yperContentPara" style="line-height: 15px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; ">Also of note: not one person I polled mentioned they were tired of hearing, "He's just not that into you." I think that's because it's not condescending. And apparently, it's not overused. So that one is still OK to say. Thanks for listening!</div></span>Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-73829475635970342522010-04-29T12:08:00.001-07:002010-04-29T12:14:03.139-07:00Grrrrrr.I spent 2 1/2 hours last night, cutting into my beauty sleep, to craft a blog about my feelings for the freakshow known as Heidi Montag. The woman scares me. In fact, I have so <i>many </i>feelings about her that it was hard to narrow it down. But I did. And I was so proud. And then I went to hit "Publish" and the stupid site kicked me to a login page, thus ERASING the 2 1/2 hours of wasted beauty sleep so I could try and remember my password! WTF Blogger!?!?<div><br /></div><div>So. Once I calmed down from my fiery rage....Monkey hid......I went to bed. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm not a happy blogger today. Get it together Blogger, or I'll find a place to dump my toxic thoughts elsewhere.</div><div><br /></div><div>F-ers.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr</div>Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-18208300201189566262010-04-14T21:08:00.000-07:002010-04-29T12:18:37.171-07:00And I thought I was challenged in dating...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZOFMf3dfdqE/S8aRcfPcgjI/AAAAAAAAABo/QLHmKkLOqAE/s1600/3529411196643434028.jpeg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 160px; height: 160px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZOFMf3dfdqE/S8aRcfPcgjI/AAAAAAAAABo/QLHmKkLOqAE/s320/3529411196643434028.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460211516841951794" /></a>Uh.<div><br /></div><div>Yea.</div><div><br /></div><div>So let me ask you all something.</div><div><br /></div><div>If you saw THIS picture on a dating site, would you say "Aw! How cute! Lemme check out his profile!"</div><div><br /></div><div>Or would you say......"What...........the..............f**k." ??</div><div><br /></div><div>Yea, thats what I said too.</div><div><br /></div><div>The above picture is from an actual dating site. Oh. Yes. It. Is. </div><div><br /></div><div>First of all, to all you married ladies out there.....HUG YOUR HUSBANDS AND THANK GOD YOU ARE NOT SINGLE!! (Ali.....COOKIE!) And if you are having problems in your marriage, seek counseling because TRUST ME..........(yes, its the truth)...........YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE OUT THERE.</div><div><br /></div><div>Right now, I would rather be zipped up in a sleeping bag with rabid porcupines, covered in fire ants with Tabasco in BOTH eyes than be single. Let me be blunt.</div><div><br /></div><div>It sucks. </div><div><br /></div><div>A$$.</div><div><br /></div><div>With all these dating sites, guys don't have to work very hard. Plus they have a never ending supply of fresh ponies to take out on the town. Some guys just use these sites as a bang list. Its kinda sad and it makes nice girls like me lose faith in the fact that there actually are good guys out there. </div><div><br /></div><div>I started internet dating back in 1995 when Match.com was Love@aol. Yea, I've been on there....that.....long. Over the years, I have tried all the sites. Eharmony, Chemistry, Match, OkCupid, FitSingles, etc. If its existed, I've been on it. All these years later, there are still the same guys on there, with the same pictures and the same bio. Albeit, 25 pounds later.....and no, they have not updated their pics.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm just tired of it all. I'm ready to settle down. I'm tired of the d*uchebags and the pics of themselves with their car and their sunglasses and the tough look on their face. I'm tired of the pictures where the guy is so far in the distance that you aren't sure if its a dude or a tree. I'm tired of the pics of the guys with girls hanging all over them. REALLY? Yer on a dating site and you've got a gaggle of drunk bimbs hanging on you? Do you think OTHER girls think thats hot? I'm tired of the guys with empty profiles saying "I don't feel I need to tell the whole world who I am. If you want to get to know me, just ask."</div><div><br /></div><div>Ok. Let me get this straight, you aren't going to write anything on your profile and you want us to CHASE you and ask you to open up a WEE bit about yourself? Hey buddy, if you aren't going to take a moment to give us a glimpse of who you are, then we aren't going to take the lazy way out and even email or "wink" at you.</div><div><br /></div><div>Don't get me started on the laziness of the "wink". Basically you don't even have to craft a sentence. You just click "wink" on someones profile that you like and then they get an email that says "(So and so) just winked at you! <span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">If you'd like to strike up a conversation with them, simply reply with something short and encouraging, like “Thanks for the wink! What's new?”</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px;font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px;font-size:medium;">Um.......why?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px;font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px;font-size:medium;">Ugh.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px;font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px;font-size:medium;">I could go on about this........for.......ever.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px;font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px;font-size:medium;">In the meantime, I'll keep patrolling the grocery stores, trying not to say something retarded to the hot guy in produce like "Haaalllalllaaaaaaaa...uh....huuuaaa....." and then run for the door.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px;font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px;font-size:medium;">Ali, I'm writing you the check for your kids college fund so they will take care of me in the old folks home while I'm still mumbling...."Haaalllalllaaaaaaaa...uh....huuuaaa....."</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-54473603085310844832010-04-06T16:47:00.000-07:002010-04-06T17:14:53.842-07:00Are you a Sugar Addict?<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(85, 85, 85); line-height: 14px; font-family:Verdana, sans-serif;font-size:12px;"><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 25px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I've come to a realization.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 25px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I am a sugar addict.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 25px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I know sugar is socially acceptable......and it tastes REALLY, REALLY good.....and its cheap to get......and its easy to sneak....except trying to open a Snickers in a quiet room full of people......</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 25px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">BUT, there are many sugar addicts out there and they just may be your next door neighbor. Or they may just enable your habit by inviting you over after they've knocked off a cupcake store. So.....well, okay, so they are addicts too. But who isn't? I mean, I blame the Girl Scouts. And yes, I was one. But who offers up the most ridiculously delicious cookies RIGHT AFTER we have all made our resolutions to get skinny? </span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 25px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">They are pushers. PUSHERS!! And don't let the little sashes, sweet smiles and high pitched "Do you wanna buy some cookies?" fool you!! PUUUUUSSSSHHHHHEEERRRRSSS!!! Run FAR AWAY FROM THE MIDGETS SPORTING TOOTHLESS SMILES AND SHINY EYES! THEY ARE HIGH ON SUGAR PEOPLE!!!</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 25px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Just in case you aren't sure if you are an addict, read below.....and weep.....then eat a box of cookies......and when the high wears off......eat another box of cookies.......then weep some more. You may be surprised what an addict you truly are!</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 25px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Most sugar addictions start with casual or social use of sugar. For some people, this is as far as it goes. For other people, using sugar becomes a habit and use becomes more and more frequent. As time passes, you may need larger doses of sugar to get buzzed and deal with that annoying co-worker across the hall. Soon you may need the sugar just to feel good. As your sugar use increases, you may find that it becomes increasingly difficult to go without it. Stopping may cause intense cravings and make you feel physically ill (withdrawal symptoms).</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 25px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; line-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Sugar addiction symptoms or behaviors include:</span></span></p><ul style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 15px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 45px; "><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; list-style-type: square; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Feeling that you have to eat cookies regularly — this can be one or several boxes (esp. Girl Scout)</span></span></li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; list-style-type: square; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Failing in your attempts to stop using the sugar</span></span></li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; list-style-type: square; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Making certain that you maintain a supply of cake, candy, ice cream, etc.</span></span></li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; list-style-type: square; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Spending money on the box of Thin Mints even though you can't afford it</span></span></li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; list-style-type: square; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Doing things to obtain sugar that you normally wouldn't do, such as stealing from kids Halloween bags</span></span></li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; list-style-type: square; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Feeling that you need sugar to deal with that annoying coworker ACROSS THE HALL!!</span></span></li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; list-style-type: square; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Driving or doing other risky activities like playing Twister when you're under the influence of sugar</span></span></li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; list-style-type: square; list-style-position: initial; list-style-image: initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Focusing more and more time and energy on getting and consuming mass quantities of sugar</span></span></li></ul><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Was there some head nodding? Some tears? Face it, you're an addict. Its the ugly truth and the quicker you face it....well, or the quicker you can get the dustbuster out to vacuum up the cookie crumbs off the couch to hide the evidence!!</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">You have to get your life back. You have to say "no'! You have stand up and say "NO MORE COOKIES YOU EVIL LITTLE DEMON PUSHERS FROM HELL!"</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Or meet me at my house.....</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">.......I still have a box of Thin Mints in the freezer! </span></span></span></div></span>Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-54662980346058027662010-04-06T12:59:00.000-07:002010-04-06T14:01:49.575-07:00Taxes and Valium<div>Ah, tax time. Every January 1st the clock starts and the panic sets in. Because I have a day job AND a failing side business (thanks George Bush), I have to have everything sorted out in Quickbooks. (Refer to the blog about the call to Sam at Intuit.) Luckily my partner in crime of all things fried and delicious (and sugary), Lauren, is skilled in the accounting department, so she helped me enter all my credit card and bank statements. If I thought I was just retarded in the social department, I was dead wrong. I'm even MORE retarded in the banking, numbers, adding, subtracting and wondering what the F a 'debit offset' is department! Yea, Lauren got to watch me nervously wring my hands as she tried to explain some things to me. You see, when I was a kid, growing up in a house of intellectuals, I used to just say "I'm an artist! Leave me alone!" Us creative types are fuzzy on all things logical....although Lauren is creative too.....hmm, oh well, blows that theory out of the water.....but, I'm just thankful SHE gets it, cuz I REALLY don't!</div><div><br /></div><div>Now here's the thing about valium. I don't take any drugs. Ever. Not even the recreational kind. I've never smoked pot, never popped a pill just cuz and I barely use Tylenol and the like because.....well, it usually doesn't work. But the few times that I have had surgeries and they've started me out on valium......I liked it. A LOT. I became the Mayor, or Miss America as I was wheeled down the hall, waving to everyone and cracking jokes. I thought I was funny! And I probably just slurred words like a stoned crazy person, but I was having fun. So with the impending doom of finding out how much I owed in taxes this year, I was really wishing I could hang with Prince Valium until the big reveal. But I didn't have any and thats not how I roll anyway, I face things HEAD ON!! And I was sure this was going to be another collision of epic proportions!</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyhoo. So I rolled up to my accountants office last Saturday and before I put my purse down I begged, "Please!! Be good to me this year!" He said "Aren't I always?" to which I replied "Yes, but I need you to be SUPER EXTRA good to me this year!!"</div><div><br /></div><div>You see, for the year 2008, I spent half the year as a 1099 freelancer and the other half on staff with my day job. So last year I ended up owing the state about $1000 and I owed $12,000 in federal taxes. Yea, I heard you say ouch and you ain't kidding! Thats a big, grab your backside "OUCH!". I had told Lauren to pray that I only owe 4 digits this year instead of 5, so I was hoping for a total of anything less than $10,000. It was a rough year and to make matters worse, my day job cut our pay by 10% so I was making even LESS in 2009. I guess its good cuz its less taxes, but I just felt the pinch all year!</div><div><br /></div><div>So my accountant plugged all the numbers in and with my losses from my side business (thanks George Bush), which never seems to help much, I was sure I had wax build up because I swore he said that I only owed $1300 to the federal and the great (broke) state of California owed ME $350!</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm sorry......</div><div><br /></div><div>.........WHAT?</div><div><br /></div><div>Wait.......</div><div><br /></div><div>You have to repeat that, cuz I just hallucinated....</div><div><br /></div><div>"You only owe $1300 federal"</div><div><br /></div><div>Really?</div><div><br /></div><div>Are you sure?</div><div><br /></div><div>No, no, the decimal point is in the wrong place...</div><div><br /></div><div>...it has to be.....</div><div><br /></div><div>Did you add that up right?</div><div><br /></div><div>Did you hit the wrong button?</div><div><br /></div><div>I always owe A LOT more! That can't be right.....</div><div><br /></div><div>"You were on staff all last year and so you paid a boat load in taxes so this is right."</div><div><br /></div><div>I never wanted to kiss a man like I wanted to kiss this man! Poor thing, I probably scared him. I think he could smell I was contemplating jumping over the desk because he nervously rolled his chair back. And then I remembered that I was getting some money back from the STATE!! So I basically owe about $1000! And since I thought hell was descending on me, I had already saved that much up! This is the first year that I can pay my taxes ON TIME!</div><div><br /></div><div>OH HAPPY DAY!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>I was so in shock. I had spent weeks having anxiety in my sleep. Waking up at 4am worrying, worrying at the grocery store, the laundromat, the movies, the frozen yogurt shop, the gym. I spent weeks strategizing how I was going to come up with $10,000.....sell my kidney? Pimp my car out as a taxi? Going door to door with a sandwich smock putting those tree trimming fliers on apartment doors? (Get it? Tree trimming fliers for apartments? Yea, I get those all the time....and no, I have no trees.) </div><div><br /></div><div>I had worried myself stupid.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>And then I remembered it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Something a very wise and VERY handsome man had said.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Worrying is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do, but it doesn't get you anywhere."</div><div><br /></div><div>Write that down.</div><div><br /></div><div>So the skies have parted and the relief has set in and I am just so glad that I can relax now. Phew.</div><div><br /></div><div>Lemme say it again.....</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>PhhhhhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwWWWWWWW!!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh look.....cookie!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3644151989454088653.post-54161073272848506262010-04-01T15:05:00.000-07:002010-04-01T15:12:03.058-07:00April Fool's Day!!Yea, I don't really have anything to say about April Fools Day itself, except that I was researching office pranks last night and I saw where someone put a stapler into a Jell-o mold and left it on their coworkers desk! Thats some funny stuff right there! Laughed till I almost peed myself!<div><br /></div><div>Or you can just check out this site that tells you the "how to" and has pics of lots of other things suspended in Jell-o! Good times!</div><div><br /></div><div>http://www.jellostapler.com/</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Kira Bronwenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13104367493867968713noreply@blogger.com0