Thursday, February 12, 2009

Adorably Slow News Day

Just in time for Valentine's Day



"Dreamy the Dormouse" is, in fact a wild rodent who was dug up by a dog in the middle of hibernation. The people who saved it from the dog decided to rip out the center of a rose and shove the sleeping Muscardinus avellanarius in so that they could get this photo.

Read the riveting example of British journalism here.

Cruelty to animals? Unnatural meanness to plants? Or Just a Slow News Day in England.

You decide. I don't care...I'm captivated by the little guys AWWwwwwwwwwwwwsomeness.

I Would Have Done The Same Thing at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

There's Been A BryanPost Online Posting

Click here.

On A Roll at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Zen and the Art of Potato Peeling

I stood at the sink last night, peeling Yukon Gold potatoes. They were from Sam’s and roughly the size and shape of a partially deflated softball. The skin on the Yukon Gold potato (if you’ve never seen one and are interested in tuber skins) could be called “delicate,” particularly since “dainty” doesn’t seem to fit something as earthy and ugly as a potato. Yet, said skin is dainty, and delicate, and thin, and comes off easily with my very manly fire-engine red KitchenAid TM peeler.

Growing up we used a rickety peeler:




Its tiny frame and wobbly blade belied its deadliness…I still bear the marks of its razor sharp edge finding my own skin rather than the potato’s. Note that “it finding” here means that I believe that rickety peeler was demon possessed. I mean, look at it...It just screams...and it does so using the same chords as heard in that classic documentary on bed and breakfasts called “Psycho.”

But the KitchenAid Euro-peeler is a beast:




A handsome, fat handle and large blade set into an arcing frame. This is a peeler to make potatoes shudder…it makes them bow to the power of its sturdy girth…nay… it makes the potato practically peel itself!

BWA-ha-haha-ha-hahahaah!

So I’m standing at my kitchen sink, peeling Yukon Gold (or rather watching the potato jump out of its skin as I wave my manly KitchenAid Euro-peeler threateningly nearby) and I realize:

I was thoroughly enjoying peeling potatoes.

The fire was blazing, it was cold outside, Meghan was working on a project, Kevin was on his way home, Libby was laying at my feet and drooling, Peanut was laying under the still up artificial Christmas tree, and Fluffy the Hamster was still frozen…and I was…

Content.

But it was more than that. It was the pleasant, unforced contentedness of simply being…of taking a task and accomplishing it with capable tools and with ease…and seeing that it was good. Of watching my daughter moving in her gift of creating videos and knowing that it (and she) is good. Of a grateful heart for a husband who works hard in his gifting and who gladly provides (in God) pleasant surroundings in which I can peel my potato and realizing that he is good. And, deep down, resting in the glow of my Creator who made me to enjoy work and being and mothering and wifing and worshiping and being completely sure that he is utterly good.

I realize that there is flawed theology in that last paragraph. Please don’t burst my contented bubble this week….

because PMS arrives next week.

I am,

Currently Contented and Hormonally Stable

Marcy

Monday, February 09, 2009

Alice in Wonderland, Amazing Remix

This trippy remix is totally unintelligible but very addicting...which makes it perfect for a Monday...(or early Tuesday, if you are me...but who's counting?)

Feel free to listen again and again.

And then let me know what you think.

Thursday, February 05, 2009

Quest for G - Beware The JabbaWockeez

This is mostly funny because it patterns "Monty Python and the Holy Grail."

Or maybe it's funny because I'm a retro-geek.

But this really cracks me up.

For a ten minute Monty Python-esque laugh check the longer version out at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4Wp-qk_4pI

Warning: This Might Incite True Nerd Anger at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com

Wednesday, February 04, 2009

It's a Slow News Day In the U.K.









It's the Infamous Tree That Grew In the Shape of a Chicken.

Read the riveting reporting from our brothers across the Pond here.

All We Have Is Obamamania at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com

Tuesday, February 03, 2009

I'm Not Cryin'

Get past the blonde's drivel at the beginning and witness some of the most eye-watering music from "New Zealand's fourth most popular guitar-based digi-bongo acapella-rap-funk-comedy folk duo."

It's almost worth the waste of time.

I'm Still Laughing at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com

Helvetica--the Movie

This film, about a font (a.k.a. "typeface") is strangely captivating and amazing to me.

I think I need to get out more.

Help Me or Join Me at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com

Sunday, February 01, 2009

Bacon Cupcakes

'nuff said.



MMmmmmmmmm bacon at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com

Let Me Direct Your Attention

To The BryanPost Online. It's our family blog. "Family" here means "me writing as a slightly nicer person."

Plus there are pictures!

It's another way to waste time while pretending to care about someone you know.

I'd Do It For You at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com

Saturday, January 24, 2009

New Year's Resolutions No More!

Well, January is nearly over so it's time to finally give up on those New Year's resolutions you made (“resolutions” here means "things everyone else is thinking you should change or do"). If you're like me, each year these "resolutions" get "written down" (meaning "told to a stranger in the checkout line but definitely NOT your mom or husband or someone who will actually make you do them"), and, by the time MLK Day rolls around (or at latest Valentine’s Day), they are happily forgotten.

We Bryans don't do resolutions for the very reason that "resolution" can be hard to say, especially with braces, and that it often has the automatic expectation unaccomplishment. We (meaning “I”), instead, want to Get! Er! Done! So we use the much more guiltifying concept of "goal." Goals are great because you can start them any time and you can revise them whenever you'd like... but no matter what, "goals" tend to hang over your head letting you know that you've got something to do but that you probably won't get done.

We dutifully made a handful of goals this year. Among them: Megh will eat 2 veggies a day, I am to blog once a week and walk 15 minutes every other day, and Kev’s to be nice and non-cynical. These examples display the obvious difference between resolutions and goals. Goals are mostly measurable and can be accomplished.

But after review, I think I have set my sights too low. And since it’s Time! For! Change! instead of blogging and walking, I’m going to attempt excel lance at something I should have started years ago. And I believe, if I try hard enough, it could become A Gift!

In case you’d like to join me, the goal for various aspect of daily life is listed below along with several easy-to-do action steps. Feel free to print the lists out and post in visible places thus not only maintaining a high level of inspiration but also allowing friends and family to be well aware of your intentions.
Overall Goal: This Year I’m Going to Irritate.
This year I’m going to irritate my friends and co-workers.
Potential easy-to-do (and measurable!) action steps:
• Find out when my friends’ favorite TV programs are on. Call them seven minutes after each show starts. Do this weekly.
• Expel bodily gasses in confined spaces. But only if other people are present. Blame it on my “condition” which is probably not “contagious.” A diet of beans will help accomplish this.
• Openly and loudly take credit for successes that have nothing to do with me or my abilities. Name-drop freely but only if it can’t be traced.
• Follow a few paces behind someone (pick a new person each week!) and ask, “Are you feeling alright?” while spraying everything they touch with Lysol.
• Finish as many sentences possible with the words “in accordance with the prophesy.”
• When I make presentations, I will occasionally bob my head. Like a parakeet. Must choose to do this straight faced or smiling like a loony.
• Deliberately hum songs that will take over other people’s brain. Pick a new one every week or month, depending on the reaction. Some possibilities are “Feliz Navidad” (but only January, February. and March), “Muskrat Love” (as sung by the Captain and Tenille), or anything sung by Barry Manilow. Research annoying songs from the 90’s to add to repertoire.
• Drum on every available surface.

This year I’m going to irritate those I love.
Potential easy-to-do (and measurable!) action steps:
• Learn to snore. (Research possible “how-to’s” on the Internet.)
• Leave late for appointments. Do so especially if I’m with family. And it’s something they really want to attend. Blame it on being a “slave to fashion.”
• Have the last word as often as possible. (Raise the stakes by making that last word “Idiot” or “Duh!”)
• Change channels five minutes before the end of every show. (May need to purchase my own “universal” sneaky remote to accomplish this.)
• Hide can opener. When visiting friends’ homes, hide theirs. If I can’t hide the can opener, hide something else of interest, like car keys.
• Adjust the tint on the TV so that all the people are green, and tell Kevin either 1) that I like it that way or 2) he would leave it like that if he really loved me.
• Push all of Megh’s flat Lego pieces together tightly. Blame it on the neighborhood kids.
• Drum on every available surface.

This year I’m going to irritate complete strangers.
Potential easy-to-do (and measurable!) action steps:
• Go to a movie alone. Sit near other people. Talk out loud (in an argumentative fashion) to myself. Tailor the argument around something in the movie. (Best done while watching dramas like “Gran Torino” or “Valkyrie.”)
• On the way out of the movie, (especially if there’s a line waiting to go in), discuss the ending in a loud voice. It’s best if you can strike up a conversation with a stranger and make it look like they went to the movies with you.
• (Keep in mind while traveling.) Pay toll fee with a credit card. Especially effective if done during rush hour.
• Deface bar codes of items in my shopping cart so they won’t scan. Use with either cashier or U-Scan-It line. Ask for help every 30 seconds or so.
• Leave turn signal on for 50 miles (if on a trip) or 15 minutes (if driving in town). Turn it off for a mile or so and then turn it back on for another 50 miles (or 15 minutes). Do this only if you have people behind you.
• Schedule once a month (at least) to find a pedestrian crossing during rush hour and repeatedly push the cross walk button. Never actually cross the road.
• Sit in front yard (or in car at lunch near a busy road) and point a hair dryer at passing cars to see if they slow down. Pick up dark wire-rimmed sunglasses to help with the effect.
• Honk and wave randomly. But only to people who can see you and try to figure out if they know you.
• Become a politician.
• Drum on every available surface.

This year I’m going to irritate people at restaurants.
Potential easy-to-do (and measurable!) action steps:
• Specify that your drive-through order is “to go.”
• Schedule time to visit nice restaurants twice a month. Decline to be seated, instead eat the complimentary mints by the cash register. Stay there through the dinner rush.
• Pay for my dinner once a month with pennies.
• When possible, ask waitress for an extra seat for my “imaginary friend.”
• Drum on every available surface.

This year I’m going to irritate people I email.
Potential easy-to-do (and measurable!) action steps:
• ONLY TYPE IN UPPERCASE.
• only type in lowercase.
• dont use any punctuation either
• Pass along everything that comes into my email box to at least 10 people on my list (It’s better if you can send it to everyone). Make sure the addresses to whom you are sending in the mass email can be seen and add the obligatory “curse if you do not forward to 10 people” tag at the end of the email.


This year I will construct an irritating lifestyle.
Potential easy-to-do (and measurable!) action steps:
• Remember a friend is only an enemy I haven’t upset yet. Watch for possible indicators that might suggest the tide is turning. Accentuate any behaviors that might increase those indicators.
• Practice smiling blandly at least 3 day a week. Build up to 6. It’s both an unsettling and irritating behavior—a double bonus.
• Remember that there is absolutely no point in talking about someone behind their back unless they get to hear about it, so be strategic in who you talk to and about whom. If in doubt, leave notes about the conversation lying about.
• Practice “Carpe Diem.” From the Latin “carpe”—to carp or whine, and “diem”—meaning daily, hence “carpe diem”—whine daily.
• Sniff incessantly. Do it especially while people are talking. Increase or decrease its frequency on whether agree or disagree with what they are saying. Start off by sniffing only when talking to strangers and then add friends and family as you become more adept.
• Wear a LOT of cologne. Buy it at the dollar store.
• Drum on every available surface.

I do apologize for such a long post. But if one person can be helped using these goals and action steps then, I think you’ll agree with me it’s well worth it.

It's a Whole New Me! at: marcyjoybryan@elkcreek.net

Saturday, January 17, 2009

For Your Health, And Those Around You

I Present the...



As sent in by my friend Monti. (Click on it for an enlarged view.)

You can thank us later.

Can I Get You a Glass of Wine (or a Diet Coke) at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com

Blogging...

Blogging isn’t easy…you have to use words. I mean you have to use words that are useful and creative and possibly inspirational. I am rarely any of these but to be all three at once takes the celestial alignment of near Biblical magnitude. And frankly, Biblical magnitudinalness is something that I often lack.

Please know: I’ve thought about putting something on this blog nearly every day. And some of my ideas—not to sound uncharacteristically boastful—were stunning and inspired. Sadly, they were all conceived whilst either driving, in the shower, or just as I fell asleep. Apparently, I’m at my most creative when I’m not near a keyboard, and when, I might add, it might be dangerous to be so. This realization doesn’t bode well for me as a writer (and thus you as a reader) since I am at this very moment sitting at my keyboard motionless, dry, and awake. Ah well…

Regardless of when and how I best form words for this blog, several legitimate things prevented me from blogging over the past several months. The excuse I shall offer today was that I was “writing” a cookbook. But not just any kind of cookbook with any kind of “writing”…it’s the worst, most difficult kind of cookbook! It was a FAMILY cookbook!

Allow me a brief explanation so that I might feel good about myself:

In late 1996 while researching our family history, an insane thought came to my sleep-deprived zombie brain. (Zombie status was primarily due to Meghan being 18 months old and a rebellious sleeper. See? I’m a victim!) And the insane thought that had entered was that I should write (or more accurately, edit) a family cookbook. This would, I reasoned, bring the family together in harmony and love forever uniting them under the most beloved banner of all: food.

Before I could stop myself, my Zombie self sent a letter to family members asking them to submit their favorite recipes. It took about a year of corresponding, gathering, typing, editing and laying pages out, for “Our Family Cookbook” to be “published.” It was a modest tome, full of quotes and some stories about various parts of the family; 125 pages, spiral-bound, it even had an index! It cost people $5, and my mom and mother-in-law were pleased. I was thrilled.

And Our Family Cookbook became one of my favorites, not because I made it (although that would be a just cause, if I was a proudful, unrighteous person). No, it was a favorite because I actually used it. Often.

Fast forward over the next 15 years and I would hear the occasional “When are you going to print another cookbook?” question, to which I would demurely laugh and quickly change the subject. But five years ago, the winds of fate changed; first my mother-in-law and then my mother, asked when I would put together another cookbook. My very own mother subtly (or was it?) placed me on the path of more insanity, and, most dastardly of all, made it seem like it was my idea.

Before I could stop myself (what is my excuse this time? Meghan was 12 years old!) I gathered email and snail mail addresses and sent out letters asking for another batch of recipes. This time it took two years to put the book together. My delay was mostly technological: Firstly, I had to find a program that would accommodate my layout and whatever the publisher might need. Second, I had to find the money to pay for said program. Third, I had to find a publisher for said printer-ready publication. And I had to pull out of an apparent slight depression in order to do it, as well. There’s no need to describe how everything fell together…certainly God’s humor and kindness helped me to obtain the needed elements in mid-October of this year and have the entire book completed by mid-December.

And it’s now available! And reasonable (at $11.99)! You can see it here:

This is even bigger and better than the last one! And already, it is a favorite because my mom, my sisters and I purposely submitted recipes that we didn’t want to lose or we wanted Meghan and her cousins to have.

And, I’m proud of this one too.

You’d think it would be time to bask in my laurels, catch up on my blogging, spend time in other pursuits.

And yet…

More insanity looms.

The first cookbook needs updating and reprinted…

And my mom has already started asking about it. I’m doomed.

Call Me Crazy (or perhaps Co-dependent)at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Psssst!

I am feigning illness so I can blog tonight.

Shhhhh! Kevin is coming in to see how I am.

I must cough now.

If only there was another excuse that I could use monthly in order to receive pity and “me time” at: marcyjoybryan @gmail.com

Thursday, January 01, 2009

It's A New Year, Where's the New Me?

The Nebraska Huskers are playing football on the television. I’ve had two bowls of Sauerkraut and Kielbasa. My other family members (including Anjel, one of my daughters from another mother) are downstairs “painting” Megh’s room. So far “painting” means cutting Megh’s bed down from bunk-height to princess-height (setting off the smoke alarm repeatedly with the sawdust); cutting several boards that will serve as a desk top and a bulletin board base; assembling 4 cubbyholders that will also participate in the making of a desk; ripping up part of the carpet because of a suspicious trim piece; and several other activities that require the use of neither brush nor paint.

Which is why I’m not down there. Call me crazy, but if “painting Megh’s room” is on my list for the day, then I want a brush (or roller) in my hand and wet colorant dripping on my shoes.

Instead, I’m watching Nebraska fight against Clemson while I surf the web in an attempt to avoid eating the cookies made last night (while watching the ball drop and insane mediawhores jump things attempting to die in front of millions of viewers) and working on my lesson plans for the Co-op I help with.

It's 3pm. So far I've not avoided the cookies but I've avoided everything else.

And in case you’re wavering on whether the New Year has, in fact, arrived, here's ABBA to make it disco-official:



And, if you think that I'm starting this year as a total waste of oxygen, here's some cool time lapse from NASA:


túrána hott kurdís by hasta la otra méxico! from Till Credner on Vimeo.

So there.

I think I hear a snickerdoodle calling at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com

Sunday, December 28, 2008

D.C. Unforgettable

I’m in Washington D.C. at my sister’s house. Part of our “pre-trip” preparation was to plan to visit some of our tax-paying dollars in the form of one of the many federal museums. I, being a history buff, (and by “history buff” I mean “someone who likes to see interesting and possibly inspiring artifacts like George Washington’s wooden dentures and Mr. Rogers’ red cardigan sweater”) suggested such classic historic warehouses like the Smithsonian, the National Gallery of Art, and Madame Tussauds Wax Museum.

So it was when someone suggested we visit a stressful and serious depository of historical artifacts like the Holocaust Museum I nearly shot Diet Coke ™ out of my nose with laughter. “How funny!” I told Meghan later. “Ha, ha, ha! They think we’d want to go there.” “But, Mom,” was her response, I do want to go; I think it’ll help us work on ‘Underground.’”

Great. All these years living of with me and my daughter still somehow managed to develop depth and a social conscience. Where did I go wrong? “Um, yeah. We’ll see,” was what I croaked. “There’s not enough Diet Coke ™,” is what I thought.

Well, obviously, there IS enough Diet Coke. On Thursday, Kev, Megh, and I ventured through East Coast traffic and the maze that is D.C. to Raoul Wallenberg Drive where we found…the museum and not a parking place for 12 city blocks. Kevin, the undaunted male-type hunter that he is, circled the area like a hungry barracuda prowling, waiting, and mentally willing a vehicle to leave and make way for him to park near the building. (It should be noted that even a human bladder has limits when it comes to prowling, waiting, and willing metal-based inanimate objects to make way for my own personal inanimate object…) Fortunately, Kev’s mental mojo worked and we parked without incident or accident.

Distressingly, the entrance to the Holocaust museum was blocked by a line of strangers. At first I was hopeful that Kev would get discouraged and offer to buy me a Starbucks instead…but no, it was just the metal detector line; and 7 minutes 45 seconds later I found myself in the middle of a place I swore I’d never go. I’d like it to be known that the reason I didn’t want to go to this particular place was not because I have something against this museum…(I think everyone should witness the historic horror so they don’t)…I traditionally avoided the place because I’m a coward and feared I’d end up carried out on a stretcher curled up in a fetal position, howling and sobbing.

But I walked, on my own power, through all three floors which even included a brief ride in a packed elevator. I watched almost all the media and read most of the signage.

Impressions:

1)The information on Hitler’s rise to power and his philosophy was impressive including the video on anti-Semitism which had a lengthy discussion of Jesus Christ.

2)The tact with which they showed the atrocities was commendable; they offered the most disturbing media positioned so that small children and those who would rather not observe the images safe and sound (I watched all of them, I want you to know).

3)The desire for people to not lose sight that the millions of people who suffered under this atrocity was made up of individuals was remarkable and admirable.
I made it through and avoided very little. To me, it is a sign of my further healing.

We drove home in late afternoon traffic, mostly in the heart heavy silence that accompanies such knowledge and grief. Well, Megh and I were quiet. Kev was irritated by the “too many” others sharing his road and the GPS who didn’t direct him to the empty HOV lane. We must never forget.

And now, I’m watching football and having a glass of wine while Denver is getting trounced. Meghan and Kevin are playing video games. Life is back to normal.

And then I read this: "Dictator Stalin voted third most popular Russian in Recent Poll." See for your yourself.

We MUST. Never. Forget.

(Mostly) Speechless at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com

Holiday Cheer? I THINK NOT!

I am stressed. It's as a direct result of a To Do List. It is a large list. One might consider it massive. I tried to guiltify my mom and sister into helping me work on said list, however, my mother...a wise woman but unaware of her duty to her grown children...refused saying (and I quote), "It won't matter, you'll add more to it faster than we can accomplish." I ask you, dear reader, what good is a mother if she won't help you maintain your co-dependent ways?

Frankly I would be a lot better off if I lacked the needus-to-accomplish gene that produces this incessant need to make lists of all the things one thinks of that needs doing in one's life and the lives of those around one.

My husband, Kevin, before he was my husband, almost didn't reach husband status because he made fun of my list-making. "Made fun" here means to post ridiculous things like "go to the bathroom" and "breathe" on my "Things To Do To Graduate" List back in the '80s.

OK…I know…so my list is long and isn’t getting any shorter during this whinefest. So what am I going to do about it?

I think I shall do three things:

1) I shall check my email.
2) I shall compose it on a scrap of paper and shove it into my cavernous purse.
3) I shall offer you an interesting video that I just found while pretending to work on the aforementioned list.

Sigh ...It’s a list about a list concerning lists. I might be hopeless…
Here’s the video I promised.

Friday, December 26, 2008

Christmas Ar-teest? Or Alien Invader?

As another example that my daughter, Meghan, might possibly be an alien life form or an upgraded android is her approach to cookie making.

Last week we were making our typical Gingerbread Cookies. And equally typically, I rolled out the dough and Megh was to cut the cookies out.

I dutifully rolled the dough out and then ran off to accomplish another holiday task. When I got back about a half hour later, I found my non-task oriented daughter painstakingly carving tiny details into a cookie model of our house.

Please let me emphasize that she cut out ONE cookie in the time it takes a typical holiday special to play its opening theme song, have and a solve its crisis AND pimp itself and 6 other products. In the same amount of time I can roll, cut, and bake nearly 50 hearts, stars, and angels.

To illustrate...

If this is my gingerbread house:



Then this would be Meghan's:



She's an artist living in a "get 'er done" world.

You might want to pray for her at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com

Sunday, December 07, 2008

I'm Full Of Cheer



Can't you tell? (Click on image to get full globulescence.)

I will never look at purple, slimy, fecal-shaped things the same again at: marcyjoybryan@google.com

Worked All Week to Publish the Cookbook



And I feel great! (Click Picture for Full Effect Close Up.)

These claws are the fastest in the ocean. And yes, my eyes are crossed, why do you and your identical twin ask?

I Dare You To Be My Friend at: marcyjoybryan@gmail.com