tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59332229621204702412024-03-13T06:28:14.024-07:00Saltwater PrincessBridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comBlogger6134125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-3913616105835141842024-03-06T21:51:00.002-08:002024-03-06T21:51:56.413-08:00They brought you up (by holding you down). Littlest wild wolf loves the big snowflakes. PJ snorts. I am back downstairs for the first time in days. Silk cami, wool sweater falling off my shoulders, worn jeans and thick socks, necklaces twisted at my throat, my hair tucked behind my ears. Guitar pick that I found on the stairs now safely stowed in my back pocket with my phone, seven rings on my fingers, four on one finger. One Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-58369558550202309182024-02-27T19:38:00.002-08:002024-03-06T20:39:44.041-08:00Delusional older men and the women who tolerate them.The snow has started, Neamhchiontach. Come to bed. I shake my head. I'm sitting wrapped in a blanket in the big wing chair by the fireplace. It's warm here. It got a lot colder at night in the past few nights and I wasn't ready for it. I practically tried to crawl underneath Lochlan and put my face in Ben's hair to keep my nose warm the other night and both kind of pushed me off so I thoughtBridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-5867724972965050982024-02-15T14:53:00.003-08:002024-02-15T15:01:50.793-08:00I always want to catch you up before I restart and then I fall behind once more.My ears are ringing today. I think I'm getting a cold. They've been randomly shooting sharp pains through my head. It feels like post-Halloween instead of pre-spring today. Wind and snow/rain on the way. The leaves are grey/tan and glued to the concrete. The trees bend and snap in the chill breeze. The water is that dull ominous grey punctuated with the odd cap of white foam. The Bridget?&Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-56531866923757159622024-02-06T19:31:00.003-08:002024-02-06T19:31:35.769-08:00Earl grey donuts and cold blue skies.I fixed all of my typos from the previous post, including the one where I miswrote Bucharest as Budapest. I've never lived in Budapest but sometimes my brain picks the first syllable and just runs with it and I had no time to edit. Caleb is demanding, cutting and in control when it comes to what I have come to call my 'outside time', that is the time in which I can see what is happening in the Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-22372492300120464552024-01-31T12:01:00.005-08:002024-02-06T19:09:09.715-08:00But then again, no.Daniel and I spent the morning laying in his bed singing our lungs out to the Forbidden Playlist (plot twist: it's Elton John's Greatest Hits) as a litmus test.Which one? The one where he confirms he's still gay or was it the one where we see how many songs it takes now for Bridget to begin to sing less and cry the words more? Does it matter? I mean, DOES IT?It doesn't, if you don't mind spoilersBridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-30579512541979849652024-01-17T14:54:00.001-08:002024-01-17T14:54:40.417-08:00Snowstorm! So we've gotten more snow in the past fifteen hours than we have ever had before. The good news is we're basically shovelled out if you count the number of 4x4s that live in the driveway. And the few who don't have one can certainly take one but why? Nothing is open, the tiny universe here is shut down it seems and that's fine. The house is so bright. The WORLD is so bright outside. It's Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-30890068049680424282024-01-06T16:08:00.005-08:002024-01-06T16:08:51.533-08:00Myrrhhhhhhhhhhh Rum Pum Pum Pum..On my drum..It's Epiphany and I celebrated (because I'm not Catholic) by dismantling one of the dryers and cleaning it out. Then I did the second one. And the vent going all the way to the outside. Glutton for punishment? No. Frustrated by procrastinators? You bet. It was taking an extra half hour to dry a regular load and who has time for that? I grabbed Youtube, a flashlight and a screwdriver. Then I went Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-19864636697143942582024-01-05T13:25:00.001-08:002024-01-05T13:25:13.702-08:00More tomorrow, I promise.Lost my internet over Christmas. Whoops. Thank you for all of the emails. I wish each and every one of you a wonderful season of Epiphany and beyond and hope that 2024 treats us all better because 2023 was a slog. Today my shirt has a down and out Alien on it. He's holding a coffee cup out and a sign that says I NEED TO GET HOME. Not sure who's shirt this is but if it winds up in my laundry Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-38257955322076124622023-12-22T09:31:00.000-08:002023-12-22T09:31:28.769-08:00Santa's real but his beard is red.Christmas starts at lunch time today! UNGHHHHHHH YES! Also happy Solstice or warm tidings on the longest night and shortest day. We got through it. We survived. Now Santa is coming, just in time to celebrate the days getting longer and we're not even going to talk about the decided lack of spirit this year or the fact that my primroses and strawberries are still blooming. I tossed them Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-64190242278515684002023-12-06T21:36:00.003-08:002023-12-06T21:36:35.951-08:00Extra pills, fewer words.Today's t-shirt makes me laugh. PJ brought it back from LA for me. It's got a cartoon drawing of a UFO on the front and a speech bubble that says GET IN, LOSER. I feel like it's meant for me. Today's breakfast was a handful of pills and oatmeal, black coffee, a badly bruised banana (fuck you, Superstore for your shitty produce) and a multivitamin. Today's lunch was uh, crackers and Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-49639372826331841862023-11-21T17:57:00.001-08:002023-11-21T17:57:10.329-08:00Black Tuesday. I did all of my shopping early. I stuck with practical gifts instead of fanciful, instead of homemade and I ordered damn near all of it this week and every single day a blue van pulls up early in the afternoon and a pile is left in the parcel box by the gate. I had to have Lochlan go and remove the lock and we added a camera out there because there are so many couriers and if one locks the Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-35891407165835698222023-11-06T16:10:00.001-08:002023-11-06T16:10:52.944-08:00Many years have gone by now and I still dread today like the rain that never stops, and you wonder if you will get swept to your demise or wind up in a new place altogether. I did anyway, as nothing is ever familiar about the way this feels and I have used this anniversary as my own personal monkey bars, and I climb all over it and run around it and sometimes I duck between the bars and sit Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-47362703528451827732023-11-03T15:55:00.003-07:002023-11-03T15:56:38.967-07:00I want to write but my brain is mashed potatoes. For my own safety, probably (gestures helplessly at the calendar) because next week is the bad one and while I've been nicely distracted lately (mostly without internet by design), it's not as if they can just turn off time. Well, Maybe Lochlan can and this is how we picked up where we left off? I don't know, exactly. I just know that his Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-1008104145721960822023-10-18T08:43:00.001-07:002023-10-18T08:43:06.352-07:00October rust.How do I fill the time, holed up in the shadows of the ones who have left, only to forget those shadows leaving these huge dark spaces where so much light used to be? Learn something new, I tell myself automatically, finding solace in working with my hands, keeping my brain so focused on perfecting the task at hand that it remains present, failing to wander away into the night, mistaking Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-8947988377840401772023-10-07T16:30:00.001-07:002023-10-07T16:30:13.418-07:00Decade-old cravings and not being able to help them. What wouldn't I give right now for a bowl of tumeric coconut curry with pineapple chutney and chunks of chicken with roasted roots? Don't ask me that when I'm hungry, but the only place to get the one I want is downtown and no one will drive there and get me some even though I am on day five of the first cold/flu of the season and somehow only Ruth and I have been struck down by it. Ruth goes Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-17467968630949853162023-10-03T12:25:00.001-07:002023-10-03T12:25:07.311-07:00Lift me up to the heavens (I can't hear what they're saying).Your princess finally got to see Atreyu, seeing Drowning and more importantly, Watch Me Burn live were parts of my brain I didn't realize were puzzle pieces and now that section of this weird science experiment that lives inside my head is complete. Or mostly, anyway. You can still see right through it but I love live shows and I'm happy they opened, as when I originally got the tickets for Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-3505703276933945762023-09-28T17:12:00.001-07:002023-09-28T17:12:04.884-07:00Pumpkinhead.My, my, those eyes like fireI'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyreCome now, bite through these wiresI'm a waking hell and the gods grow tiredReset my patient violence along both lines of a pathway higherGrow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desireIs it obvious I show up every couple of weeks? I don't know, you tell me. I thought it seemed obvious. I would be here all day if not for the Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-90288853362577828232023-09-16T19:27:00.007-07:002023-09-16T19:27:50.458-07:00Oh Lantern.So busy today and we went into downtown Vancouver for a change of scenery after lunch but the traffic. The people. The lineups. Crazy. We went and had Japanese food at our third-favourite place. Went for Tiramisu at another and then went to Starbs and had coffee (I didn't, it was four o'clock! I had a frozen mango-dragonfruit lemonade-thingie). We sat in traffic on Hornby for a stupid amount of Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-69919839422665038982023-08-27T09:27:00.002-07:002023-08-27T09:27:20.374-07:00It always ends the same way.I know. Ten days without checking in again and the internet moves along at such a frenetic clip my cycle of news for you barely exists for a moment before dropping you into the next tidbit that you seek out online.What's happening? My grapes aren't quite ready, the red ones anyway. I eat the green ones by the handful, barely avoiding certain death by the giant bald-faced hornets that seem Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-15485173869600609482023-08-17T10:53:00.002-07:002023-08-27T09:15:42.546-07:00I have four suggestions that might make the world a better place. (Vancouver and LA I'm looking at you!)1. Lower your goddamn expectations. Expect to wait. Expect life to sometimes not be perfect. Expect other people to have problems too. Expect some things to go wrong sometimes. Be patient and prepared and you'll have an easier time. Do it for your own mental health, which, like physical health, should be looked after.2. Let's eliminate Air BnB's! If you stay in a hotel they have better standards.Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-35593197545919737592023-08-02T21:22:00.001-07:002023-08-02T21:22:22.237-07:00Safe Haven and halfway points.Devilled eggs and sweat. Bad documentaries and worse romance movies. Nicholas Sparks who never fails to sweep my feet out from under me, even though I am so jaded at this point my skin has a green cast and is cool to the touch. I love Julianne Hough. I freaking love her. Even if Footloose didn't need to be remade, though her background means she shouldn't have fallen off the bike at all. Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-44878443758784066242023-07-27T17:25:00.003-07:002023-07-27T17:25:39.069-07:00Smash Um forget Um cookies. It's cool today. Jeans and no shirts for some, simple linen sundresses for others. I'll let you figure out who's wearing what. The pool and the air seem to be the same temperature, the skies are a pale blue that remind me of Jacob's eyes. The clouds persist, but just a little. There's a blanket folded on the back of the swinging bench on the porch and one on my favourite egg-chaise by the Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-71626747852381874952023-07-13T19:27:00.005-07:002023-07-13T19:27:46.946-07:00Dumb bitch.Cole (Trey to me and the boys) died seventeen years ago today. Huh.It seems like it was a movie. It seems like another lifetime. Maybe it was just a lifetime movie that I caught at the end on a fuzzy cable channel back in the day when we had channels on the television instead of apps. On the upside, I don't miss anything I want to see now because I can start it when I please.Seventeen years,Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-91394501583875952722023-07-07T17:34:00.002-07:002023-07-07T17:34:31.215-07:00The food trucks in my hood tonight are ice cream and shawarmas. Perfect.It's a beautiful Friday afternoon and I am soaked to the bone with chlorine, save for George, who is wrapped in a fiberglass sleeve. Wet hair plastered to my skull and my bathing suit is almost dry at least thanks to the eight minutes of Vitamin D allowance I was given in order to thrive without burning. In between swims I am emailing around, getting things done, tossing around terms like Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933222962120470241.post-29649625276870245492023-07-02T14:38:00.001-07:002023-07-02T14:38:21.404-07:00A record. Unless I am seriously indisposed, AKA injuried/committed/kidnapped, even in my semi-lucid state I have never gone this long between writings. No, I'm not gone. I'm just busy. I go up to Cows for ice cream. Messie Bessie is this year's favourite. The cones aren't stale yet. Hilarious because it's a busy place. It has some weird affiliation with Anne of Green Gables now, not sure if they are Bridget M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08033690995101036297noreply@blogger.com