Just a simple plea

My family has received some very sobering news and I may not have any medical experience or a pageant title or WHATEVER, but please please please, visit this website for a simple overview of breast cancer.  Regardless of your family history, it's important to know the signs, how to check for lumps, and what you can do to be proactive against cancer.

If you do have a family history, I want to encourage you to actively check yourself once a month and after 21, start talking to your doctor about ultrasounds, and then mammograms.  If you're thirty, ignore the silly regulations that say you don't need a mammogram and get one at least every other year, and if your insurance will cover it, yearly.  Guess what - women under the age of 40 and 50 can and DO get breast cancer.  And I'm sick of people assuming you're too young for it.  That's how it ends up in the III or IV stage before it's detected.

I'm not a doctor, but this issue is extremely close to me.

We're not invincible.

I'm...

avoiding a few things by throwing myself completely into school.  Not the worst idea ever, but I'd rather not think about all of it.  Who doesn't love being a little delusional?!


{Dad - don't ask.  I'm not going to tell you.}

just sayin'

=

    

It's a good time to be in school.

Bye bye, print journalism.

I completely agree with this top ten.

It is wonderful.

EDITED TO ADD: I forgot Zefron was on the list.  Ummmmm, replace him with David Bowie and I fully endorse this top ten.

It's mah birthday

I'm currently watching William, the sweet 4-month old that I adore, and I'm sure something exciting will happen later.

My wishes for my 24th year of life (I'm 23...)?  I'd like to stop being so baby hungry and I'd like to start enjoying squash.  I'd also love to place in the top three at nationals and I'd love to find a way to be competing at a state pageant again.

Finally, I want to see more of my family.  I've been blessed with some great brothers who in turn have wonderful families that bring a lot of happiness to the Gulbrandsens.

Oh, one more thing.  I want to be able to bowl more than a 35.  Also, BYU, could you maybe not suck at football this year?  And could I please meet Joseph Gordon Leavitt at Sundance?  And could I become a rockin' snowboarder with Kenji?  Oh, and all MAC has to offer, I covet.

The end.

Welcome, 23 - let's try to not become a bitter unmarried Provo girl, mmmmkay?

an accurate portrayal of my taste in men.

although, Alan Rickman will always be a boyfriend.

hmmm.

yep.

I love knowing I'll be out here in about nine months.  And I love the prospect of being a significant part of my niece's life.

I also love that there is no way I could ever POSSIBLY be Miss Utah County.  Does anyone have an explanation for me?  And please tell me it's because I said Elena Kagan isn't a socialist.  Utah County ROCKS.

What do you do when you hate your job?

Grab some beers and deploy down the slide!

Dear Utah County Pageant.

Just so you know, I'm not scared of you.  We've had an interesting relationship, you and I.  It's been really consistent.  You've paid for a lot of my schooling (and by a lot, I mean one semester because I forgot to claim half of the money you gave me because I'm DUMB), and you've given me the opportunity to flex my hick muscles once a year at the Utah County Fair.  Without you, I would never have walked in a rodeo ring, or watched a demo derby, or kissed a pig.

Without you, I would never have had the pleasure of being first runner up at the same damn pageant four freaking years in a row.

This HAS to be a record.

So here's the deal.  It's my last chance.  I age out next year.  I'm going to give you a fifth shot because I still have two semesters of school to pay for and you give more money than any other open local.  Here's the thing - I fully plan on being at Miss Utah next year SOMEHOW.  I'd just rather be there representing you.

Be prepared.  I'm bringing out the big guns.

Chocolate mousse on tinfoil and THE Scherzo.

I see you, Utah County Pageant devil on my shoulder.  Guess what?  I bite back, too.

You're mine.

memorium.

I didn't know my Grandpa Gulbrandsen very well.  What I've known of him is that he was a professor at Northwestern, teaching voice.  I only have a few memories of him and they're filled with music, because that's what we had in common.

Grandpa died yesterday at 91.  I had the opportunity to say something in his ear through a cell phone on Sunday, but he wasn't able to respond.  Obviously I'm grieving more for my father's loss, but Grandpa's situation was so painful, at least he now has respite.

Since then I've been googling him to learn more.  He's been a vocal teacher to some magnificent opera singers and I'm learning so much about his personality through their interviews.  For example, Grandpa seemed entirely focused on an innate passion that speaks to people - sound familiar?  Also, one world class soprano that he trained shared his advice for stage fright and nerves: "Just sing the damn thing".

Hmmmm, sounds like my kind of guy!

Help a brother and sister out

And by that, I mean that they're married.  But no, they're not siblings.  It's my partner Andrew and his wife Lydia and I'm pretty sure you should move into the apartment that they're moving out of.

Click here to see how great it is!

Awesome, right?  Now, I'd totally take it, but uhhhh, I'm lacking the whole married bit.  But if you're married, first, congrats - you get to have sex; I envy you.  Second, move into this apartment.

Hey thanks, guys!

my new title.

Humanities TA Goddess.

I got it!!!

Bullying is a problem; sky is blue.

Particularly when it involves teenage girls.

But... I'm sorry...

What?

thanks Lindsay.

I'm aware what the rules are but you know that I will run.  You know that I will follow you over Silbury Hill through the solar field.  You know that I will follow you.  And if I find you, will you still remember playing at trains or does this little blue ball just fade away.

Does it matter if she's asexual?

An excellent article on the sexual perception of women in film and how we feed it.

I write mostly on hotel paper.

Whitney took me to Macey's and it turns out that skittles aren't going to do the trick.  Neither will macaroni and cheese, pizza, popsicles, root beer, dr. pepper, fruit snacks, chips and queso, or Ritter Sport chocolate with corn flakes.  But the Apple Cranberry Martinelli's was really good, even if it was the only nostalgic thing I allowed myself to buy.

Last night I allowed myself to listen to something entitled the Hmmmm Mix, the significance of which is known to about five people.  There's nothing particularly special about it, most of the songs are songs I listen to on a regular basis, but as one song would end, in that split second before the next began, I could hear the opening strains.  I know this mix by heart.

Last night I allowed myself to go back.  I went through the memories, the experiences, the moments, the years.  When I'm ready, I'll go back again and write it down.  I don't want to forget those parts of the last five years.  At some point I'll bring them out and share them with my kids; there's no bitterness connected here.  I want them to know of those high points of my life, points that significantly shaped my philosophies and young adult being.

Last night I allowed myself to cry.  I think I'll allow myself to cry again today.  And probably tomorrow.  Whenever it decides to come on out.  Last night I was at the gym at a hamstring machine.  Why that reminded me so much of the situation, I'll never know, but I guess I need to accept those times because they remind me that I'm human and can feel and can love.  They remind me that I did feel and I did love.

But I'm not sure if I want the reminder right now.  I want to hang on but I also want to forget.  Which is more painful? 

we both realized it way too late.

I'm no stranger to disappointment.

Hello.  I've been first runner up at the same stupid pageant for four years in a row (and yet I'm trying once again...).  I've had friends and family disappoint me.  That's just life.  I'd like to think that I deal well with disappointment.

But right now?  After what I've heard?  After what I knew deep down?

I need some Center Stage and lots and lots of Skittles.

my girl crush rocks.

I've had a girl crush on Sophia Bush for years.  It all started 5 years ago when my roommates decided that we look similar.  Regardless of whether or not we still look alike (and I actually don't think that we do), I have become quite mesmerized by her and her ability to use her celebrity for something good.

Here is another case in which Sophia is AWESOME.  Urban Outfitters is a store for the rich wanna-be hipsters.  I've bought approximately one item from UO, but it's the frilliest, most Nordstromesque item I've ever seen there (because I'm a snob - I'd rather be a snob than a hipster).  Urban Outfitters is the place to find all your silly t-shirts that say "I'm not with stupid anymore", or the oversized Dark Side of the Moon album cover (which, for the record, I'm sure most wearers have never heard, unfortunately for them).  It's where hipster boys find their fedoras and plaid button ups that don't match.  It's also the place for all your favorite dirty, inappropriate books that make you *giggle*.

Well, Sophia brought this one to my attention.  All the more reason to NOT shop at Urban Outfitters.

Their latest?  A t-shirt that says Eat Less. 

You stay classy, odorous stubbled ones.