The first time

I was going through my old Tumblr to find my go-to chocolate cake recipe, and stumbled upon this… my first ever IBD-related blog post, I suspect. 25 May 2011. I thought I’d post it here for posterity. Those were the days… incredible pain on the daily, uncontrollable urgency, no painkillers, incapable of properly attending lectures. But also, relatively simple meds with less impact on my total system. No surgery, no steroids, no biologics. Not even my full-blown diagnosis yet. Anyway, without further ado, here’s 20-year-old Briar’s words about IBD:   Last December, after various fun filled tests, I was diagnosed … Continue reading The first time

movement

This time a year ago, I was in Wellington. But I knew I’d be leaving it behind soon. Now, I’m in Wellington again, but only for  few days. I’ve only been here a couple of hours and the weather is broody and windy and typical, but it really feels so good. I hold tight to the knowledge that my new job has a Wellington office too, in case the opportunity to return comes up. Wellington is where I fit in. It’s where the city’s pulse is as close to mine as any city could get. Auckland is ‘home’ – in … Continue reading movement

honiara essays

I have a million things to still write about Honiara. Here is what will eventually (touch wood) eventuate: My first foray into sports writing, by way of describing two separate volleyball matches between various teams made up of local folks working in the legal sector. The High Court has two dusty volleyball courts right next door. This is one of my favourite things about Honiara. Writing something about Seif Ples and the amazing work that the women who work there do to help domestic violence victims in times of absolute crisis. The food. Coconuts. Cold pineapple straight from the fridge. Banana … Continue reading honiara essays

coriander, basil, corn

The first plant I have ever successfully grown is a small pot of coriander. I can’t even claim to have grown it, really, just not let it die. It’s in a giant teacup that I inherited when a flatmate four flats ago left to go overseas. I kept fruit in it, but my kitchen is tiny and the teacup was relocated to a bookshelf when a rice cooker took countertop precedence. There were still oranges and kiwifruit in it, and they sat there forgotten, gently moulding. When I remembered, I put the bowl outside and it’s lived there ever since. The pot of … Continue reading coriander, basil, corn

waiting. and then. and now.

I worked a regular forty hours last week. Then I hopped on a plane and went to Wellington and stayed up until 2:30am catching up with beautiful people. I left their house at 7:20, walked down the hill from Brooklyn. So that I could get some early morning cold air into my lungs to wake me up. I worked from 8am till 7pm, because that’s what you do in the festival. I caught up with other beautiful people afterwards. I realised at my sister’s that night that I hadn’t told her that Virgil was sick. That he was dying. The next … Continue reading waiting. and then. and now.

A Vigil

Someone who I hold very dear does not have much longer for this world. It’s not uncommon to feel that the worst part of a break-up isn’t losing the other person (especially when time has provided a little perspective), it’s losing touch with their family. After the initial hurt of my last big break-up had mellowed, the thing that really stuck out was how much I was missing the rest of his family, who I had spent so much time with, adventures over to Devonport on the regular to see C and V and O. My timing in going to Wellington … Continue reading A Vigil