I miss My home

Nice Day for a White Wedding

This passed Saturday I attended a wedding to whom was for Chicken's cousin, Chris, and his fiance, Moriah. This particular wedding, however, was not white. It was green. Therefore, the bride wore green down the aisle, she wore green as she said her vows, she wore green as she kissed the groom, and yes, she wore green throughout the whole entirety of the reception. Green. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't hate hate green. In fact, during the early life identity crisis of grade 6, green happened to be my most favorite color. And I do believe, that I had an entire lime green outfit which consisted of a lime green turtle neck sweater and lime green and grey pants. This is very much beside the fact that the bride chose to wear a very untraditional color for her wedding gown. Alas, hasn't white been the traditional color for not only the wedding gown, but weddings in general for as long as one can remember? Obviously, that has been for good reason! I might say that I was slightly outraged. White stands for purity, and a new beginning with one's counterpart. In that case, what on earth does green mean? The Grinch Who Stole the Wedding? Lucky St. Wedding Day? Oscar de la Grouch? Seriously! Being a new found fan of the "perfect wedding day", I do believe that I am slightly biased. I mean, there are plenty different types of wedding gowns, right? For example, for an East Indian ceremony, the bride would wear bright red for her gown. In Japan, a kimono perhaps? Gwen Stefani wore a white dress that faded to hot pink for her wedding. But who am I kidding here? She still wore white! If the bride felt so inclined to wear green for her wedding, why did she not choose to wear a nice lacey fitted gown? Which had a statin green stash at her waste, tied in a luscious bow, and fell to the floore with the train of her dress in the back? And could have had that same green for her bride's maids dresses? Why?!
The moral of this reading is to keep one's wedding, simply traditional, and classy -- or else blogs such as this will surface around the internet just as a bad Paris Hilton video.
Thank you, & good-day.
Brittany

Once Upon a Time in Mexico

Maybe this Christmas

My Christmas starts tomorrow and doesn't end until January 10th. Lucky? Yes. How come? I get to go home tomorrow. Not only do I get to go home tomorrow, but I also get to go home with my Chicken, whom I love. Love, being the smallest of words with the most meaning in the whole of the world. I am lucky. I also love my mom, and she will be there, too. I love my life.
I'll be flying back home for six days. Once I get back, there is New Year's to look forward to (in which I also spent with my Chicken last year, and it turned out to be something that you would watch in a movie, or maybe the first season New Year's episode from the OC), and then I leave for Mexico. December 22nd-January 10th would be my Christmas. And it makes me swell up inside. Not the bloated swelling up (thank goodness, uh-huh), but the kind of swelling that squishes all of your insides together, including your heart, which ultimately makes you want to gush or throw up tears of happiness -- but you don't. Clinically diagnosed as the one of the Bliss Factors. -- Seriously, I looked it up.
Sadly, I'll be leaving my second family, which includes my two adopted sisters (which being a girl growing up, I always wanted -- I'm sure you can relate) and Chicken's Momma and Daddy-Bear. I've grown attatched. Also, the McPuppies whom are all sleeping at my feet at this very moment. Although they pretend to be homeless doggers living on the streets, whom are starving and proceed to beg at the dinner table nightly, I'll also be missing them. Especially McPretty.
If that is the least of my worries, I sure am a blessed young lady.
See you at home!
I'm going to have a merry little Christmas.
Love, Snowflake Sally
xo

Black and White Insite

If life in general was black and white it would be boring. But, just look at this picture. Is it boring? No. It's vivid with it's expression and internal passion radiating outward. Some black and white pictures are so classical and immortalizing, that they can't lock away their color. It fills the eye of the spectator with pigments that pauses one's thoughts, and expands them at the same time. Yeah, this all could totally be a load of crap. Plus, I'm biased because I'm a huge fan of those two in the picture. On the other hand though, I could be right.
When, for instance, a girl friend of yours (girl friend being your best girl, whom is your friend) confides in you a wish in which she wants her boyfriend to be more black and white, what she is really implying is that she's would rather opt for a boyfriend who says what he means and when he means it. Black and white. Imagine if all of life was life that, though? Boo-oring. Yes, it would be easier. "Hey, am I going to get this job that I've so humbly applied for and after such a successful interview?" -- "No, I hired the girl with the bigger boobs." For example. Harsh, but hey, it's to the point. It wouldn't just be rude like that all the time anyways. "Hunny, which picture frame do you like better? Black, brown, or white?" -- "Even though I'd rather be watching the hockey game at home on the couch with a beer in hand, and a remote in the other, I'm going to tell you what I think because I love you AND I want to go home as soon as possible. I like the brown one, sweetheart." See? Although this sounds humorous to those who don't live in a black and white world (for those who do, please go see an eye doctor, or psychiatrist, quickly. No, seriously, get up off your chair and get someone to drive you immediately), would you agree that that would take the mystery out of life and ultimately become dull and slit-your-writs boring? Yeah, I thought as much. So, as a result, I think we should all live with more color. No, I'm not saying layer on the makeup, tan until your skin is crocodile leather, or dress like your and African in the 80's. The message that I'm trying to enlighten you with is that one should appreciate the gift of not knowing everything. It would be seriously boring black and white all the time, trust me.
I don't want to know what I'm getting for Christmas anyways, Mom.
Think PINK,
Love Brittany

I'm itchy

This is Max. On a cat-scale rating 1 to 10, he's a 57.2, seirously. Yes, I'm completely biased, but ask me if I care. Max is the best, and I miss him. No, no, you don't have to send flowers, he is alive. Max is back in BC. Lucky bugger. He's probably sleeping, and thinking about food or taking a poop while not being itchy. Itchy being my problem, these days -- among other things. Just kidding. Who needs problems anyways?
-- So, back to my problem. I'm itchy. Why am I itchy? Unlike BC at this time, Alberta feels like what I imagined the North Pole to feel like on a bad day. The bad days in which the penguins opt for a hottub rather than their ice pool, with their lovely ice floaties. I guess I have two problems then: I'm cold, and because I'm cold, I'm itchy. *NOTE* please don't think that I don't bathe. I do. I shower every day. If you've read my other blogs, you would probably have guessed by now that I have a little vainity issue, so why wouldn't I shower? -- And why am I deffending myself to you? No clue. Anyways, if you don't understand the whole being cold thing equals itchy, let me clarify that for you. It's not just cold here (like the north pole), it's also dry. Being cold, and dry, results with severely dry skin which is incredibly itchy. It's so itchy, in fact, that it's difficult to sleep at night. I know itching makes it worse, but it feels good for about .5 seconds before it becomes even itchier. Why doesn't Bribby moisturize then? Duh, I do. Every day. I've even switched to Vaseline because nothing else it cutting it. I bought a tub of it yesterday. It feels great, I didn't itch nearly as much -- until sleeping time. Then starts the itching. I'm going to start moisturizing my bod not just once a day after my shower, but when I go to bed, too! Genius. I had to sit down and dump my thoughts exposing them to the cyber world in order to come up with that brilliant solution. Good one, Bribby. Come to think of it though, have you ever noticed how shiney penguins are? And how they glide through their icey pools so effortlessy? And how they don't seem to feel itchy? Vaseline, baby.
Well, I'm just going to go ahead and forward this blog to Vaseline for a winter time/North Pole commercial idea.
Use Vaseline & enjoy your day.
Brittany

I couldn't sleep last night

Under the Tuscan Sun ('Kamloops Sun' just didn't have the same ring to it)