Ta-da! New look! Not really any new content yet though - it is, however, imminent. There are a few new features, nothing earth shattering. Just old-fashioned fun things to read and look at on the web. It's my specialty.

I originally was going for an old-fashioned seed packet look for this design, to sort of herald the coming of spring. You know how those things get away from one, though. It ended up looking sort of theatrical. I think I like it - I like it enough to have managed to upload it, which is progress for me.

Sorry about the file sizes. I'll try and make it worth your bandwidth as time goes on.
2.24.02

I have been reading a great deal about Fitzgerald and Hemingway in the last two weeks - some of it I have read before, mostly letters from each to the other and from both to their editor. Some of it I hadn't read at all, and found very interesting.

Reading both at the same time, naturally a brain like mine (read: average) wants to compare and choose which it likes best. But there isn't much to compare, really. I dream about Hemingway's life at night - sometime I am his secretary making grand pronouncements about the colour of life and how to write it, learning from him as we take trips to Africa and he describes what is happening. Sometimes, I am dreaming of something else and he shows up, a callous cameo. Last night he interrupted a very boring dream of mine about my job to remind me that my time would be better spent dreaming about grocery shopping. At least food can be made sensual, he said. He has become the artistic consience of my dream life, harsh and unwavering.

Fitzgerald is elusive. I don't think even I could induce him to visit my dreams, even by promising a reunion with Hemingway. He is past all dreaming, having used all of his measure of imagination and charisma into writing some of the most heart-achingly lovely scenery and people I have ever read. He is more legend than Hemingway, but I only just discovered it. Hemingway was busy with the business of his legend long before his work could support it. Fitzgerald, on the other hand, just wrote.

There is no purpose to these observations. I've often dreamt of Hemingway, anyway.
2.22.02

Hey, by the way, for all of you who are wondering "Is this it?", there is an actual brianna.org website coming up as soon as I get internet access back at home. So as usual, any Lunch Break is just to fill in the between-time until I get the really personal stuff up. So far I've collected my height and weight data from age 2mos. upward, and a photo display of my differing haircolor every year since birth. Thrilling stuff. As always, I strive to continue my tradition of keeping brianna.org content-free since 1996.

Ech. I haven't had a fever for this many consecutive days EVER. However, the accompanying delirium makes watching rented MST3k episodes a lot more satisfying.
2.21.02

Wow. This site works in Netscape. I guess I shouldn't be surprised- it's Netscape 4.75 I haven't tested it in yet. I saw a robin this morning. It was sitting on a berry-covered tree just loudly heralding the coming of spring.

Last week at Wal-Mart, the girl ahead of us was buying two copies of Handguns magazine, some posterboard, and some glue. I wonder if she was getting ready to stage a protest.

Midwest observation #34 - You cannot get a salad in Kansas City restaurants. Oh, they may say they have them on their menu, but what arrives at your table is usually a decorative conglomeration of meat and cheese with a wilted piece of lettuce for garnish. Most of the restaurants within a five block radius from my work are completely devoted to either steak or barbecue. Interesting.
2.15.02

Hello. Welcome to the latest installment of Lunch Break, courtesy of brianna.org. It's been a long time.

Currently, I'm drowning in soy fields in the very middle of the Midwest. The weather is interesting. People talk about it a lot. It's the kind of place that has a Wal-Mart on every corner and the people belong to the cult of the casserole dish. I'm learning to keep my head low and only talk about what I have in common with them - that I like NASCAR, and I was taught to shoot a gun as a small child. Everything else is as different as apples and interstellar space travel.

I've missed you. I don't know if you remember me. I don't particularly care. I don't know if I've changed since I've been gone, but I've thought of you often, and I was thinking we could get reacquainted.

There's a lot to catch up on. Remember Isabelle? Remember autumn of three years ago? Should I just forget all that and start fresh?

I have many ideas. I'm thrilled to my very core that my domain is back. I've always treated it as a beloved possession - like the teddy bear I've had since I was six.

Let's see what will happen now that spring is coming. It's a time of renewal, and things are being born all over. I can't wait.

Love,
Brianna
2.14.02