The Landslide will bring you down

Dear Brianna,

As you know, my grandmother passed away on August 23rd 2006 after 80 years of life and a long battle with cancer. She had four children, ten grandchildren and one great grandchild, and I know that we will all miss her. She meant the world to me, and I will miss her greatly.

july 7th 1926- august 23rd 2006.

But, as they say, life goes on



love,
Katie

It's Your Thang

Dear Katie,
I don't care what anyone says, I am in love with Jonathan Antin.

He is what I imagine people are describing when they use the adjective beefcake, even if he might come across as a tiny bit homosexual. Jonathan is tough as nails, but also has a sensitive side. He cries when things go wrong, and appreciates art...hair art. He approaches doing hair like other people approach painting or sculpting. It is a craft that he pours every bit of his hyper-masculinized soul into.

There is a category of guys that I say look like ducks. Patrick Swayze and Emilio Estevez are examples of this. (Insert Mighty Ducks joke here) I am usually repulsed by "duck boys," however Jonathan eludes this tendency, and is the first duck that I am attracted to. I love his pointy chin, pursing full lips, squinty eyes, and large forehead, but I love how cocky he is even more.

Jonathan calls all the shots. He makes a lot of enemies, enemies who keep coming back to him because he is so damn successful, and because it means they can be featured on national television. Every time Jonathan raises his voice, punches a wall, throws something, or storms out of a room, I get butterflies.

I am infatuated with this sensitive, duck-like, cocky man more than almost any other reality tv-based celebrity. Except for maybe Jason from the Real World Boston, cause he was way cute.
Love,
Brianna

Life is a highway....for my parents.

Dear Brianna,

I haven't been on a vacation with my mother and father since the summer before my junior year in high school. Which would make it four years ago. Right.

Anyway, it didn't bother me much when we stopped the whole vacation ordeal. First of all, my parents and I tend not to agree on vacation itineraries (they're boring). Secondly, my whole summer used to be a vacation. My parents didn't make me work for more than a month (usually july) so I would have about a month free to roam around in my car and watch TV with my cousin Erin. That's honestly about all I did. When I moved away to New York, my parents decided they didn't need to take vacations anymore. It's too hard for me to pull away from work and other things that I have here, and they just don't feel like it, I guess.

Well, they recently changed their minds.

This week my parents:

-went on a Cave exploration (lu ray caverns)
-took an Airplane flight over the Appliation mountains
-took a Motorcycle ride through civil war battle fields
-rode Horseback through the Shenandoah Valley
-Stayed at Ski resort (needless to say, they didn't ski)
-Stayed at plush golf resort (they didn't golf, either)
-Met baby tigers (in Pennsylvania??)
-Visited the property our family owns in Bedford Pennsylvania for the first time in years

Basically, they did a whole bunch of stuff. Ridiculous stuff. When we used to go to the beach, they would sit around and read, and I would cry from boredom. When we went to Disney World when I was 10, they didn't ride many rides with me. When we went to North Carolina, we looked at lighthouses. When we went to Vegas, they sat around in casinos leaving me to fend for myself in the casino video game rooms.

And now they do exciting things.

I can't wait until I'm a parent and I can do that to my kids. Parents have a special way of burning their kids without trying.

Love,
Katie

Simple Joys

Dear Katie,
What Dunkin Donuts is to you, Subway is to me. When I say Subway, I don't mean the MTA, I mean the superior-sandwich-making-fast-food-chain. I ate fresh for the first time only a few months ago, and since that 6-inch turkey delight, I've been hooked.

I can't believe I went 21 years without falling victim to the sweet smell of baking bread that surrounds every Subway store. At Indiana University, I lived about two blocks away from the famous Subway that the famous Jared ate at. I've met and spoken with Jared in person, and incidentally found out how he really lost the weight. (I'll tell you about it if you ask me in person.) But this wasn't enough to get me to go inside.

There wasn't anything noteworthy about my first time eating at Subway, except for the jammin' tunes they played in the store. Listening to Tina Turner sing/ask "What's Love got to do With it," while I ordered my sandwich made the experience fun and relaxing, and enjoyable enough to make me go again.

After much experimentation, I've found the two perfect sandwiches, and after clocking in 5 years working at Panera Bread, I am a sandwich building expert.
1)Toasted wheat bread, cucumbers, lettuce, pickles (I know, weird, but trust me), green peppers, mayo, and salt&pepper
2)Toasted wheat bread, turkey, cucumbers, lettuce, tomato, and chipotle sauce
The best part is that you don't have to feel guilty for indulging in this tasty treat. Each sandwich is only about 5 weight watcher points, which translates to being a pretty kick ass meal.

Although Jared may be less than desirable, the product he pushes is the cream of the crop. I've eaten at many restaurants, from the fancy schmancy to the about to lose their license, and if I had to choose one place to eat at for the rest of my life, I would definitely choose Subway.
Love,
Brianna

Baby boy, make me lose my breath.

Dear Brianna,

Brace yourself......




Um, excuse me? My life is supposed to end in October? Because this fucking MAKES MY LIFE! I have no need to live beyond the third time I see this in theatres in 3fuckingD! OH MAN! Jesus Christ! (Jebus christ, if you're religious).

This is one of my ALL TIME FAVORITE MOVIES OF EVER ALL TIME. I remember seeing it when I was five (six maybe?), and walking away from the theatre in awe. IN AWE. Then my dad bought me a jack the pumpkin king doll that I still have today.

I was Jack for halloween one year in highschool.

I watch this movie at least five times around both halloween and christmas.

I watched the movie so much on VHS that if I watch it now, there are permanent lines through the picture.

I can recite the movie almost verbatum.

I have the soundtrack on my ipod, and I'm listening to it right now.

I have every type of apparel that one could own with something from this movie printed on it. Also I own Perfume, Key chains, A giant snow globe, A music Box, posters, a sheet set, shoe laces, buttons, a wallet, earrings and a necklace.

You have far too much embarassing information on me for me to continue this post.

Love,
Katie

A Night in the Life

Dear Katie,
There is a tradition in poetry to write poems based on a snippet of one's daily life. Keats used to write odes to inanimate objects, and Frank O'Hara is famous for his lunchtime poems that were written during his lunchbreak. Shocking, right? On Saturday night, I had to cab it home alone from the UCB, and since I didn't have anyone to talk to or anything to distract me, I had time to really absorb and appreciate the scenery and people around me. In the spirit of Keats and O'Hara, I want to recap for you what I noticed on my ride home, but being only a mediocre poet, I will take things to the twenty-first century and blog it out.

Nothing really happened until I got to Brooklyn. I was over the bridge in ten dollars, which is always exciting. On the corner of Myrtle and Flatbush, I saw a real life prostitute for the first time, or what I assume to be a real life prostitute. She was wearing an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, yellow bikini top and matching yellow (insert German accent) booty shorts. She was leaning down into a car with tinted windows to make what I assume was a real life sex deal.

A couple blocks after the prostitute is the laundromat that either burnt down or caved in or self-destructed before it even got the chance to take down the grand opening sign, which as long as I can remember, has read "And Opening." How appropriate.

The last thing that caught my eye was an ad for Seagram's Gin on the back of a pay phone. It featured a silhouetted drawing of a dude with a fro in a barber chair holding a bottle. The tagline was "Snip. Snip. Sip. Sip." I was completely perplexed because the ad is wrong on so many levels. 1)Who drinks gin while they get their haircut? 2) Who drinks gin while they get their haircut at a barbershop in the hood? 3) What does hair have to do with Gin? They are both dry... And finally, was this ad strategically placed on Myrtle Avenue (once called Murder Ave.) because it is home to a lot of black folk? Isn't there some sort of racism hidden in there?

The first thing the cab driver asked me when I told him I was going to Brooklyn was, "Is it a long ride?" and at risk of sounding cheesy and trite, it most definitely was.
Love,
Brianna

PS-This has been edited after Laura Radcliffe dusted some cobwebs off the part of my brain that remembers poetry.