High Blood Pressure

Dear Jewish guy,

white guy,

And especially white lady:

I don't know how to say this without making things really awkward... so get ready. When you are working with a patient, about to take his/her (especially MY) blood pressure, please think before you squeeze. It puts the patient in a very uncomfortable situation when you grab her arm, turn it palm up, wrap a pressure gauge around it so that the arm can't move and then take a step forward, ramming your crotch into her open hand. I mean, you must take at least fifteen different people's blood pressure everyday and you still haven't figured out that you can get close enough to listen to a person's pulse in many different ways, with only one or two of those ways being inappropriate?

I have an idea. Let's make a resolution right here, right now, to never shove our crotches in other people's hands ever again, ok? Ok.

Phew. I feel better. Oh yeah, and could you please relay this message to your friends and fellow nurses at the BYU Health Center? I would GREATLY appreciate it. For some reason every one of their nurses has the same bad habit that you three have. Wow. I'm glad we got that out of the way. Thanks again!

Sincerely,

Brooke

P.S.- If there is failure to execute the aforementioned plan, you can expect to hear from Jackie, Jermajesty and the rest of my Justice League.

I'm Going to Cry.

The concert of my dreams has been postponed.

I don't want to talk about it.

Accidentally in Love

There's this show that my roommates and I (especially Kiera) like to watch called "I Didn't Know I was Pregnant". Every time these women deliver these babies that they had absolutely no idea existed, they are of course completely shocked, but always end up keeping them and love-love-loving them. I always try to put myself in their shoes and socks and wonder what I would do and think and all of that crazy stuff that is sure to follow finding out that you went 9 MONTHS not knowing you had a baby in your stomach. (Which I still can't comprehend at all.) Luckily, since I have certain restrictions on the way I live my life, there's no way (at least while I'm unmarried) that I'll ever think I have to go to the bathroom and end up... pooping... a baby. (I can't believe I just typed that. But that really did happen to some of those women.)

While I've never been pregnant without knowing it, I did accidentally become a mother. Sort of.

You see, it all started one day back in April when Kubo and I

(sometimes referred to as "Brookubo") ditched our friends after eating pupusas.We ditched them because while we were eating said pupusas, I found out that Kubo had a Beta Fish. Why he had never told me this before, I do not know. But, the second I found out that he had a Beta, appropriately named Beta-Spice, I asked if he had ever fed Beta another fish. He said he hadn't. I know. My jaw dropped, too. Since there's a pet shop just a block away from the Pupusaria... we ditched our friends, like I mentioned earlier. Over at Jay's Jungle, we bought the absolute smallest, cheapest fish we could find. It was a little striped one, about 15 cents, as I recall. It was one of these:

As we were driving over to Kubo's, I gave him a couple pointers on feeding a small fish to a big fish (not that I'm an expert on it or anything, in fact this was my first time, but, I've had enough pets to know certain things). My main rule was that we didn't get attached to the sacrificial fish. It's a lot easier to kill something if you refuse to believe it has a soul. That meant NO NAMING THE FOOD.

Once at Kubo's, we both bent down eye level with Beta and his tank. We weren't sure how quickly Beta would eat the little fish, so we tried our very best not to blink. This was going to be good. Kubo dropped the fish into the tank and...

Nothing.

We waited a couple minutes. Still Nothing.

Finally, Beta got close to the little fish. He started following it around like a dog sniffs another dog's crotch when they first meet, except not nearly as awkward. Kubo and I tensed. We waited. Here it was. I rubbed my hands together. "Say goodbye, little fishy!" And then...

More Nothing.

Deflated, Kubo tapped on the glass. "Come on, Beta. Nemo's just waiting for you to eat him."

"Woah, woah, woah! Who's Nemo?"

"I couldn't help it!" He'd broken the rule.

"Kubo!"

Long story short, Beta never ate the Nemo. They actually became BFFs. Which is very lucky since Kubo had to go and get attached to Nemo that way. And even luckier because I accidentally went and got attached to Nemo, too.

Kubo went out of town for a week or so and so we moved the tank over to The Pad (where Cami, Kiera and I live) so that we could fish-sit. And since Kubo spends more time here than he does at his own place, when he got back to Provo we just decided to keep the fish with us. Now that we knew that Beta wouldn't eat other fish, we took another trip to Jay's Jungle and came home with a whole family. Sadly, the shelf-life of pet store fish isn't usually more than a month or so, sometimes it's only a day or so. I have learned to love the fish while we have them, and when they pass on to that big river in the sky, I don't cry nearly as much as I used to. We've gone through lots of fish and some frogs and even a tank upgrade in the last six or seven months. Let's see, there was:

• Whacko
• Jacko (NOT to be confused with Yacko)
• Dot
• Barack
• Miranda
• Spock
• Freckles
• Beta-Spice
• Bird
• Bumblebee
• Optimus Prime
• The Fallen (AKA Sucky)
• Mak (AKA Mustard and Ketchup)
• Buzz
• Goldie Hawn
• Kurt Russell
• Ichabod Crane
• Creamsicle
• Bones
• Ruby

As Kubo has said, "Holy Crap! We've killed an entire underground city!" Some of you might feel the same way. I like to look at it this way, "We've given an entire underground city a loving and fulfilling life." Plus, once you catch the Fish Fever (not associated with Swine Flu), it's hard to stop.

Currently, our tank houses:

• Crystal Meth
• Jay-Z
• KieraSGeorge
• French's

And OF COURSE:

• Nemo

I'll admit that I've grown closer to some fish than others. Whacko and Jacko were hard ones because they were our first to die. They also died just a day before the real Wacko Jacko died. We were afraid we might have voodoo fish on our hands for a while. I thought I was responsible for the death of an icon. Then I got over it. Sort of. We named one of the fish, Bird, after me. (It's one of my nick-names.) People started hating on her because we suspected that she was biting off the other fish's tails and that's they were dying. I didn't believe them. I came home one day and Nemo's tail was almost all gone. I flipped out and put her in a cup by herself to think what she had done. Later that night we saw that she had jumped out of the incredibly tall and only half-full cup, committing suicide. It was a little traumatizing. My voodoo-fish worries came back, but I haven't had any life-ending thoughts, so I think we're safe. It was also really sad when Beta-Spice finally kicked the bucket. He was the great-grandfather though, it was his time. Miranda was a hard one, too.

But, hardest of all would be to lose Nemo. I've already said that when he goes, I'm done. He was my miracle baby and he's survived all odds being the smallest fish and being attacked by Bird and Barack and other bigger fish. I just hope he never finds out that I only bought him to be fed to Beta. But in my defense, I didn't mean to love him. Though I'm irrevocably attached to the little squirt now. I think I know how those mothers on "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant" feel. He's my life now. He's the best mistake I've ever made. Nemo, this one's for you:

Anagrammarian

So, a friend of mine

made an anagram the other day and it was a reawakening for me. How could I have overlooked the potential nerdy fun that anagrams have been offering to me for all these years? I can't even begin to list all of the signs that the universe has thrown my way. And what have I done? Simply shoved them aside. But I'll shove aside no longer!

I'm officially addicted to anagrams.

Yesterday was Stake Conference. Instead of having both a Sunday and a Saturday session, they had two Sunday sessions. The talks were great, but sometimes I get a little antsy over four-hour periods and the best way for me to pay attention (though it may sound contradictory, it's true) is to doodle or draw. This Stake Conference I anagrammed. (Yes, "Anagrammed" is a word.)

I went through a bunch of my friends' names, and of course my own:

(Disclaimer! Some of the words that were in said names were not of my choosing and are not meant to offend.)

Brooke Nelson~ O, Bone Snorkel!

Michael Gordon Brandley~ Bar Honored Melding Clay

David Robert Kuboshige~ I Sever Hag Boob, Turd Kid.

Lauren Virginia Pieper~ Inn Ire I Rape Vulgar Pie.

Kiera Yvette George~ I Yet Revere Goat Keg.

Camille Christina Butler~ Chili Cream Bent Slut Liar

Jason Scott Jacobs~ Jots Jab, So Can Cost.

Kyle Brandon Peterson~ Born Slant? Peek Yonder.

Spencer Douglas Earnest~ Prongs Recede, Steal a Sun.

Micah William Richards~ I Chair Swim: Child Alarm.

My only wish now is that I could be a professional anagrammaraian. (No, "Anagrammarian" is not a word. But it should be.) So, if anyone has a name they would like me to work out, please let me know. I won't charge. I'm sure you can anagrammatize (This one IS a word.) it on your own, but if you want to throw me a bone anyways and give me something to entertain myself with, I'd appreciate it. I won't charge. I'm just a nerd who is going to run out of friends soon...

How to Kiss

So, my lovely sisses (is the plural of "sis" sisses? Derek thinks it's "seese" as in geese. Not sure.)

(minus Nina thankfully) told me to look up "How to Kiss", not because I don't know how, I OBVIOUSLY do, but because it was supposedly really funny.

I did. And it is really funny. And by "funny" I mean awkward.

I always think it's awkward when people voice something that is supposed to be unspoken. You know, the things that everyone knows or learns on their own and don't ever really talk about out loud. It's just weird. It's like talking about... nevermind. I was going to talk about something, but that would be turning myself into a hypocrite. And "I don't wanna be a hypocrite cause they're not hip with it." (Shout out to Joanne Craft and Faith Lutheran.)

So, here's some of my favorite excerpts:

Exfoliate your lips with sugar to make them soft . You never want your lips hard.

Relax your lips by parting them ever so slightly.

Look at their lips. Make eye contact and then move your gaze briefly down to the person's lips. Then move your eyes back up to meet theirs and smile demurely. You don't have to be really obvious about it. Many people will take the hint, especially if they've read one of the many articles that lists this as a sign that a person wants to kiss or be kissed.

Kiss your partner's upper or lower lip again, but this time part your lips so that their lip goes between yours. Apply a little bit of pressure closing your lips as you pull away. You can practice on the length of your finger to get an idea for how much pressure to apply. You can also gently pinch one of your lips between your index finger and thumb to see how it feels to have someone kiss you in this way.

Ok, ok. I'll stop. I'm feeling a little sick. Oh, and Paige,

this is for you: How to Kiss with Braces.

Not Since High School...

... have I had a fire drill. Until yesterday.

I didn't even know they had fire drills in college. Learn something new everyday.

It made me want one of these:

Guess What!

No, despite what the picture may lead you to believe, sadly these two are not engaged. BUT, what's the next best thing to Elton John and Billy Joel actually getting married? The correct answer is the two having a love-child in the form of a concert. And guess who's going to make out with/attend said love-child. I'll give you a hint: her name starts with a "Brook" and ends with an "e". That's right! I am going to see the Piano Man AND the Rocket Man together. LIVE. I simply cannot wait. Here's a little taste of what I'm going to be stuffed off of come November 20th:

Feel free to be morbidly jealous.

Olive Branch

Last week, I walked through the warm summer air and into a building. Two hours later I stepped out of that building and into a crisp gust of fall. It changed. Just like that! (I wish there was an onomatopoeia for snapping your fingers.) For those of you who don't know me because you've randomly stumbled onto my blog or because you are poor stalkers,
you won't know the impact that this change had on me. So, I'll spell it out for you: I hate cold.

I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.

And with that new air, that air that just has a certain heaviness to it, the air that's charged with the power to sting when it feels so inclined, with that air, I knew summer was officially gone, and it could only go down from here (both figuratively and on the thermometer). So, I did what was only natural; I went into mourning. Had I been fortunate enough to have this on hand,

I would have donned it and traipsed around wailing and weeping. Or if it hadn't been so dreadful a thought to go outside for a couple hours, I would have held a candlelight vigil.

Instead, I did the next best/productive thing and went and took an angry nap for a couple hours.(Thank you, Arrested Development.)

Then today, after spending a week alternating between angry naps, dreadful mumblings of knowing what's coming and watching the Godfather Trilogy to try and lighten my spirits,

I realized something. I realized that the cold is inevitable. I've been in a war with Cold for years now, and I'm only winning half the time. Cold's going to invade every September no matter how much I whine or complain, no matter how much I hate it. And no matter how much I fight it, it's not leaving till March. So, here it is, my new goal: to not fight the cold, to not hate it. After all, it's only business, it's nothing personal. I'm not going to say that I will for sure like the cold, that goal may be a little too lofty for me this year. But eventually, I'd like to like it. For now, I'm going to try and accept the change as it comes, and not get mad at it, but instead, welcome it when it comes knocking, and ask it to come inside and share some hot chocolate with me by the fire. Who knows, maybe Fall and her friend, Winter, will be really good at crossword puzzles, or have a love for Elvis tunes or something. We just might be able to form a friendship through all of this. Hopefully we can. But if we can't, I'll still open up my arms to it with a smile and a kiss, cause if this is war, I've got to keep my friends close, but my enemies closer...

plus, I'm a little tired of being grumpy.

The Drunk and the DeGeneres?

I was very upset to hear that "The Drunk" as Nina likes to call her is not renewing her contract with American Idol.

Even though I agree that she's crazy, has no credibility, an awful vocabulary and claps like a seal, she's been on there for so long that I've come to a love/hate relationship with her and I can't imagine the show without her. And, even though I knew it was her fault for not taking the contract because she wanted more money, I was still set on not watching this next season because I knew it wouldn't be the same.

But now that I know who her replacement is going to be, I'm ecstatic that it won't be the same; it's going to be better.

Here,I'll let Ellen tell you all about it:

Hurray! I can't wait! I loved her on So You Think You Can Dance and think she'll be great on Idol. Speaking of So You Think You Can Dance, here she is reunited and dancing with the Season 5 cast.

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Thank you, Paula, for being a money-loving booze-hound. I'll miss you... but not that much.

Mister Mystery

Thank goodness I'm not married.

I mean, I'm sure marriage is great and all, but it's a good thing that I personally am single at this point in my life.

I say this because I've been looking back at all of my relationships that I've had, and while a lot of them have been great, they've all ended (obviously, there's only going to be one relationship that doesn't actually end). At the time of break-up I'm usually pretty sad, regardless of whether I ended it or not. But now I'm so happy that I didn't end up with a lot of those guys. Not that those guys aren't great. But they weren't the perfect fit for me. And I know that there will be someone, somewhere, who is. The more I date people, the more I know what I'm looking for in a companion. ( Jimmy had this that I liked and that that I didn't like. And Bobby had this that I loved and that that I hated.) And because I'm learning more and more what does and doesn't fly for me, I'm becoming more and more grateful that certain relationships didn't work out. (Does that sound harsh? I don't mean it to.) I'm grateful they happened though because they taught me a lot and they're helping me narrow down/lengthen my "Things to Look for in a Potential Husband" List. I'm getting a clearer picture of him all the time. Of course that picture is figurative. Though a literal picture would be nice.

The one downfall of this constant learning experience I call dating is that the more I know what I want my "Mister Mystery" to be like, the less likely it seems that I'll find someone with all those qualities. In short, I'm getting pickier. But picky is a good thing, right? Right. I can be patient. He'll come along eventually...

...In the mean time, I've taken to dating celebrities. You know, just to fill my calendar up a little bit while I'm waiting. Afterall, no one ever said being patient means you have to be lonely, did they? Here's a couple pictures of my most recent flings.

Me and Zac. Young love is the purest love.

Edward/Robert just can't get enough of me.

Justin. The great thing about dating a Momma's Boy is the fact that he knows how to treat a lady.

Look at the bling Gerard gave me. Too bad he's not LDS.

This one time, Ryan made me laugh so hard I peed my pants. Luckily we were in a hot tub at the time.

Sorry for the immodesty. James picked out the dress.

Oh, Brad! I love the way he looks at me. It's like I'm the only girl in the world.

When we're driving together, Daniel likes to show off and drive really, really fast. I like it cause it gives me an excuse to grab on to his bulging biceps.

Johnny and I back when I had bangs. Just look at him! Gorgeous.

RIP MJ.

And now, for the one guy that I would never, ever, EVER have broken up with. The world just came between us. Well, the world and a bunch of Fried Peanut-Butter and Banana sandwiches. Here he is, the first and foremost love of my life.

Elvis and I on our first date.

Engagement pictures.

The best day of our lives. Until we meet again, My Love!

"Butter to My Bread"

"You are the butter to my bread, the breath of my life. I love you, you darling woman." -Stanley Tucci/Paul Child

Ok. Somebody please find me a younger, less-bald, real-life, LDS version of Stanley Tucci as Paul Child. Please? He was the most wonderful husband: the way he let her be exactly who she wanted to be, and appreciated her all the more for it. He adored her. And she felt the exact same way about him. The love that he and Meryl Streep/Julia Child had for each other is enough to make anyone believe that Love really can conquer all. Gosh.
Julie & Julia was great, but Stanley/Paul was the star for me (with an honorable mention going to Julie's husband, Chris Messina/Eric Powell).Where do you find men like that nowadays? If anyone knows, please let me in on the secret. I'm sure my Grandma Bonnie and her children and their children and my adorable(?) children that he and I have will be eternally grateful.

ANOTHER Hero Comes Along: A Letter to Jackie

Dearest Jackie,
While you can never be replaced as my hero (WWJD will always be my motivation to be BA), I've realized that there will be people (possibly animals, seeing as you're an animal, though it's highly unlikely) who will be able to join your ranks and stand next to you (probably more accurate is "close behind you") in the supersquad that is going to be my own, personalized Justice League.

I know you're wondering who in the world could come close to matching you in coolness and bravery and awe-power. Let me explain: There once was a man(?) named Michael Jackson. He passed away a few months ago, and in the mourning process I've purchased literature about him and his family. Michael has a brother named Jermaine ("Where are you going with this?" You may be asking, hold on just a little bit longer, my one-legged, war-decorated primate.). While Jermaine never produced work that was praised the way his whiter brother's was, he did give the world one thing that is worthy of attention. It's actually worthy of a lot more than attention. It, or HE, I should say, is Jermaine's son. I'm not going to go into great detail about his son, because there is only one detail that we need to know about this boy who will help you protect and even change the world. That key detail is this boy's name. Are you ready for it? His name is

Jermajesty(Here he is pictured with Jermaine-the-Genius)

Knowing your intelligence and appreciation for all things wonderful, I am confident that you agree with me in thinking that this boy is special and should become the official second member of my team of heroes. I hope everything is well for you. Things are great here. Warm Regards!
-Brooke

Brandon's Baptism!

My friend Brandon got baptized on July 11th! I'm so happy for him. I know with all my heart that this choice was the right one and I know that his decision will change his life forever in all the right ways. The Church is TRUE!
Michael got to baptize and confirm him.
Krista and I worked with Brandon at a Physical Therapy office and Michael and Brandon met through me.
Eating at Chili's with my family and the missionaries afterwards.
It was a really, really good day.