I have had nothing of note to really report, hence the
Now if this were a blog about all the embarrassing things that happen to me, I could post daily.
Because I embarrass myself and those around me constantly.
You know, perhaps I should begin sharing all the things I do that subsequently make others uncomfortable and feel sorry for me.
I don't do it on purpose.
Similar to Zooey Deschanel's character Jessica on New Girl, except without all the hunky roommates, and Donald Trump's hair.
Now I know that it is summer, and most people spend it outdoors doing fun things, but here in the Pacific Northwest we have a different tradition.
We stay inside while sheets of rain pour down and stare at each other, just as we did the previous nine months.
So I have, like, eight pictures of my family playing in the sun, that were all captured on the same day, right before buckets of rain flattened us to the sidewalk.
We tried to take the kids to a spray park in Oly (that's what the cool kids call Olympia) and force them to run through the water on a windy summer afternoon.
I was zooming in to capture a picture of Ezra and instead got a look at this man and his enormous red underpants.
I don't understand this fashion choice.
But wanted to make sure everyone else got a good look too.
Kinda like when Scott and I are cruising Wal-Mart (we're classy) and he spots the long and hairy
crack of someone's buns and instead of discreetly turning away, points to it and says, "Brianne, I want you to see something ..."
Anyway, despite the fun we have in our apartment, breathing in each other's personal space, we decided to visit school friends in Portland once more before they all scattered to the four corners of the earth now that their hubbies have also graduated.
We really miss them.
And by we, I mean I am a huge lonely loser.
And luckily they don't mind me calling them today only to announce our arrival tomorrow, and can we all crash at your house and eat all your food and wake you up in the middle of the night with our crying?
I have the best friends.
And their kids are pretty cool too.
And I don't normally like kids.
So there you go.
(in a fake southern accent) about thrifting and food and why our boobs deflated after having all those children pictured above? (There are 14 kids between the five of us. I know.)