Mustache Tats

In response to my previous blog, my predictions were correct, I gave up in the first week. I am ashamed even to admit how many days I lasted. Surprisingly my sister admitted defeat before I did.

This blog is brought to you by Haley Shumway...'you're my inspiration.'

The other day the person mentioned above answered a question about me on facebook. The question was 'If Rebecca Hansen got a tattoo today, where and what would it be?'

Her response 'A man with a mustache, her favorite kind, a narrow philtrum, maybe on her arm or something.'

The genius of it! Why did I not think of this before? And then I remember that I am not a tattoo person. I find them unappealing and stupid. Very rarely have I seen a tattoo that I thought was cool, because most tattoos are super lame like a butterfly or rose.

I have wondered before if I did get a tattoo what would I get and I always come up with nothing. And I guess this how so many butterfly and rose tattoos come to be. Lack of creativity.

So in the case of a mustache tattoo, I might just have to change my staunch opinion. How many tattoos have you seen that were devoted to mustaches. I have yet to see one. It may be my duty to pioneer the way for mustache inspired tattoos. But alas who knows if I will always have a love for mustaches. I mourn the day if it happens but I better play it safe and leave the pioneering to more experienced professionals. But thanks to Haley if I am ever in the situation where someone is holding a gun to my head and threatens to shoot if I don't get a tattoo; I will make it out alive without a butterfly tattoo on my ankle.

Surprisingly, she knew I liked narrow philtrums. After inquiring how she knew this fact, she informed that she gathered this information from this very blog. I couldn't believe that someone outside my family actually read it.

NaNoWriMo, Say What?

I apologize for my long absence of posting. I don't want to make any excuses but I was taking refuge on a remote private island due to a zombie epidemic. Now that the epidemic has been handled I am now back and with internet. Let's get down to business.

The month of November is quickly approaching. November is a month that my little sister has looked forward to for the past 3 years. Not because it's the month of her birthday. Not because she is fanatic about eating copious amounts of food. Because the month of November has become synonymous with NaNoWriMo. I know what you're thinking. The first time I heard the "word" NaNoWriMo come out of my sister's mouth my thoughts were "What the french are you saying?" After inquiring I learned that it stands for National Novel Writing Month. The basic idea is that for a whole month you write like crazy to create a novel of at least 50,000 words. It's suppose to be an idea that you have never worked on before the 1st of November.

This year, for some reason, I have decided to partake. You may think I'm crazy and I do too. For the past two years I have watched, well not exactly watch because she locks herself in her room, my sister torture herself to crank out a novel in just 30 DAYS! But the fact that it is just 30 days to write 175 pages, they tell you it doesn't matter what you write. Quantity not quality. They also tell you to not edit at all! This is an aspect that is going to drive me insane!

There is also another problem with me doing this. I haven't done any creative writing since I started college. My creative thinking part of my brain is definitely rusty.

You may be asking yourself, "What could you possibly write a novel on?" That is an easy question to answer. Mustaches and Time Traveling. The plot line is basically this; A women is unlucky in love. She just can't find a guy with a sweet 'stache to love. Enters, Victorian English gentleman who accidentally time travels modern day. Naturally, he joins an online dating service. Man and woman find each other, fall in love. But wait, they can't go riding into the sunset just yet. The Englishman comes down with a disease that attacks his facial hair follicles enabling him to sustain his mustache. The woman is faced with the dilemma; continue to love him despite his stachelessness or part ways for good.

If typing for a month sounds fun to you go to the official NaNoWriMO website, link above, for full details and sign up. It would be awesome for anyone who reads this blog, most likely just my family, to join me. We could create a solid support system. My predictions is I won't last a week but my sister can keep me on it, hopefully. To quote a super lame movie, "Walk till your feet bleed and then keep walking." but in this case it's typing.

Becca Hansen: Fan of the Ugly Stick?

My dad and I are both stubborn, it's a Hansen thing, because we are so stubborn we are always getting into arguments over trivial things. The one topic we always come back to is; which sex is more likely to date someone who isn't quite up to the standard of good looking. Of course, as a girl my stance is that girls are more likely to date a guy who most people would consider ugly. And my dad takes the boys side. My experience is that I see pretty girls with ugly guys all the time, very rarely do I see a good looking guy with an ugly girl. My dad and I can go on about this forever, never getting anywhere because we are hard-headed.

A couple of weeks ago my dad unknowingly helped my point. And this is me rubbing it in his face because I didn't want to get into it at the time. My dad has supplied with weapon that I will use every time we start our who is more shallow debate. Here's how it all went down.

It all started when my family and I were discussing the 100th episode of Lost a week after we watched it.

Becca: "Oh yeah, Daniel Faraday was shot by his mom!"

Discussing of Eloise shooting her own son and how she can fix it plot.

Becca: "I'm bummed Daniel died. I was totally crushing."

Dad: "He's ugly! And wimpy." (Referring to the fact that Daniel Faraday is weedy)

Holly: Saying something about Daniel not being good looking and scrawny.

Becca: "I like weedy guys, ok."

A week later I was watching Ace of Cakes with my family. If you aren't familiar with Ace of Cakes, it's a show about a place that make those huge cakes that look like art. On this episode they were making the Lost 100th episode cake. One of the cake makers Geof is way monotone and reacts to anything the same way, with no emotion. I am totally crushing on Geof too. You may wonder why? Definitely not the best looking guy around but he is super smart. Which is super sexy. Pull out some random knowledge and I will bask in your hotness. Anyways back to the point. We were watching and every time they would show Geof I would say "I love Geof!" and every time they showed Daniel Faraday I would say "I love Daniel Faraday!" Eventually this is what happened.

Dad: "You like ugly guys, Bec."

Mom: "No, she likes intelligent guys."

Becca: "Thanks, mom." Then goes off on how smart Geof is.

Thanks for helping my point out, dad! And IN YOUR FACE!

Mustachios For Everyone!

It's March and that means... MUSTACHE MARCH! A time where the most under appreciated facial hair shines for a glorious month. Although I am ever more aware of the fact that I cannot grow a mustache. I can, however, show my support for the mustache and blog about it.

I recently came to the realization that I love mustaches. A love that has secretly been burning inside me but I was just too scared to succumb to its power. I can now say that I, Rebecca Leigh Hansen, love mustaches! I believe it all started back in my days in Georgia. My brother was in baseball, a must if you live in the south. One year my brothers coach had a sweet sweet handlebar, waxed and curled to perfection. But that was before my mustache lovin' days or my boy lovin' days. There is only one man who can be credited for breaking down the iron curtain of my mustache hating tyranny and that man is Sexstache. I admit I may be slightly obsessed with Sexstache, considering I have never talked to him but who needs to talk when you can gaze into a classic chevron. A chevron that would get any bestached Tom Selleck loving woman's heart racing. After first seeing Sexstache I was left confused. Everything I had previously felt about mustaches had been shaken to its core. Everything would have gone back to normal if I hadn't started noticing mustaches everywhere. Soon a mustache obsession would begin.

One day I was curious to know the name of a certain mustache style. I innocently googled mustache styles. If I'd known at the time the kind of life changing effect it would have on me I wonder if I would have ever googled those words. My search led me to the American Mustache Institute. I learned the names of every style out there. I also found a blog dedicated to 19th century mustaches. Naturally the blog is named Mustaches of the Nineteenth Century. I cannot find the words to truly express my feelings for this blog. The writing style and wit is amazing. It even has a glossary to clarify any of your mustache vocabulary questions. I highly suggest seeing it for yourself because it is awesome. http://mustachesofthenineteenthcentury.blogspot.com/

My new love for mustaches has definitely met some strange looks from family and friends but nothing will come between me and my mustaches. Now before you form the impression that any mustache makes me go weak in the knees let me lay a few ground rules that make for a excellent mustache (for me at least).

1. A narrow philtrum is preferred. A philtrum is the grooved space under the nose. It grows very little hair so a narrow philtrum is best because it reduces any awkward gaps in the mustache.

The picture on the left is an example of a narrow philtrum. The one on the right is an example of a not so good philtrum. But it's all genetics. Big philtrum guy does get bonus points because he has more style and flare than narrow philtrum guy. He has made the most of his mustache and has given it a nice up turn. Narrow philtrum on the other hand has put his good genes to a waste because his mustache is a rather dull one.

2. If you are capable of only growing a weedy mustache then forget your mustache dreams. Weedy mustaches are reserved for that one kid I knew in elementary school and pedophiles. Both of which give me the creeps.

3. Mustaches are often associated with gay men. To avoid mistaken sexual preference be sure to be over the top with manliness. Take Tom Selleck for example, he has been sporting a mustache probably since birth. Tom loves his guns and guns are extremely manly. He pretty much is the epitome of manliness.

Lumberjacks are also secure in their masculinity. If you've got a mustache and someone makes a comment about you referring to your preference of the company of gentlemen, go chop down some trees and you'll set the record straight. If however you are a lumberjack and you put on women's clothing and hang around in bars, well you might be one of those misleading gays.

4. Stroking your fine mustache brings attention to fact that you have one. Stroking of the stache can give the appearance of deep contemplation. Add a monocle and you become one of the most intelligent people to grace the planet.

Twiddling of the mustache has the opposite effect. Twiddling shows that you are up to no good. It say that you are the kind of man who enjoys tying ladies to train tracks. Twiddling of the mustache followed by sinisterly rubbing your hands together says you have just thought of a villainous plan. Twiddling your mustache with shifty eyes means that said plan is in progress.

5. It always helps to assume this stance.

I'm A Hater Not A Lover

It's been a epically, probably not a word, long time since I have posted anything. It all comes down to one thing. College has sucked all my creativity out of me. All those stupid papers on lame topics that I don't care about have led me to perfecting the art of writing stupid papers on lame topics I don't care about. I have rather forgotten how to write just for fun.

Anyways back to the point. I have realized something. I am far more passionate about things that I hate then things that I love. Mention one of the many things that I hate: Top Gun, meerkats, slow stupid drivers, The Sandlot, Canadians, certain politicians, the list goes on and on; I go off in a ranting tirade. I admit I need to learn how to cool it sometimes.

I have decided that I need to be a little more positive and focus on things that I love. Get comfortable as you are about to embark on a exhaustive list of things that I love in life.

Slapping beef, preferably rump roast, at the grocery store. Singing at the top of my lungs when I am alone. Watching crappy movies and tv shows and laughing at them. Little kids with british accent. Shocking people by letting out my scandalous side. Laughing. The mandolin and the amazing Chris Thile. Dancing crazily. Watching birds trying to fly in the wind. failblog.org and engrish.com. Ice cream, especially cake batter and anything with cherries. Being a semi-rebel, I don't want to land myself in jail. Camping and hiking. Books and the smell of them. Drug pens. Better than sex cake. The Chasers War on Everything, I spend hours watching clips on youtube. Peter Pan, something I have loved since a kid. It's also my favorite ride at Disney World. Musicals. Tall guys. Moustaches, not a creepy thin pedistache a nice thick one. Shimming in front of my little sister because it makes her uncomfortable. Bluegrass, which is not country it's completely different and cooler. My people and my mother countries. Fried okra. Anything British. Masterpiece Theater. Movies, I really love movies. I could watch them all day. Cycling and the Tour de France, although I think it's super lame that Lance Armstrong is coming out of retirement. Let someone else shine like Mark Cavendish with his british teeth and bubble butt. Saying the name Emilio. Folk music. Vikings, they are my people. Babies. Thai food. Jews, they get a bum wrap but I love them. Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. Bands that harmonize out the wazoo. Listening to bands that no one knows about. Brownie corners. Gloomy days. Rain. The dream of going skinny dipping. The opprotunity has never presented itself. Running around the house naked, I do it when no else is home of course. I was once told I should do it High School and I did. It's exhilarating especially if the blinds are up. Who knows how many people have gotten eye full of this.

The Tokyo Subwayesque Bus Ride

I have been riding the bus to school ever since I started at UNM. My first year of riding the bus, the Rapid Ride, that goes from the West side to UNM was not in existence. I took a couple of buses to get to school. These bus routes went through some pretty bad parts of town. I endured passengers who burned my nose hairs with their stench and being honked at by men, who in their culture it is acceptable to honk at women. It is hard for me to put in sufficient words, without using profanities, my hatred for being honked at.

A personal favorite experience happened one morning when I was getting off the bus at UNM. I was walking onto campus listening to music, off in my own little world, when a shady 20-something guy started to chat me up. He informed that he dropped of high school and that I should keep going to school, that I could make something of myself. I had the looks, I just needed the education. He then went onto light up a joint and tell me that he has been selling drugs since he was seven. He offered to give me his number and that he could hook me up. I kindly refused and went into a building I didn't really need to go into.

Needless to say, I was extremely happy when the UNM Rapid Ride route was created. I had far to many unpleasant times on the sketchy buses. The bus I ride now is predominately used by college students or faculty and all together feels safer. Since the bus is so convenient the bus is always so packed, especially in the morning. This morning the bus I usually take never showed, so when the next bus showed up there were two full bus loads on one bus. All the seats were already taken so all the people at the stop crammed into the bus. I can only compare it to the subways in Tokyo where they have the men with white gloves shove people into the cars so they can get the doors to close. Ok, I'm exaggerating but it was pretty bad. This guy with a hulk backpack, need I say more, decided it would be a good idea to take off his pack in the packed quarters. In doing so grazed my boob. He apologized and I told him it was no big deal. As a girl I'm used to boob grazes, they are kind of out there and in the way, plus my height kind of makes my boobs a perfect target for elbows.

I knew we were in trouble when I saw the Mildew Guy walk up to the bus stop. I have past experiences with riding the bus with Mildew Guy. The first time I smelled him I thought he must have left his clothes in the washer so they smelled sour and didn't have time to rewash them so he was forced to wear sour mildewy clothes. I didn't past any judgement on him the first time but it quickly became apparent that he just smelled like that. I dreaded the sight of him walking onto the bus. So today I felt sorry for everyone on the bus when I saw him at the bus stop. That feeling only got worse due to the occupancy status of the bus. Every time he moved he released his putrid smell into the bus. It's a good thing I'm used to Mildew Guy because I have pretty bad gag reflexes. I'm past gagging every time I smell him.

I was also very aware of the fact that my butt was eye level to the four guys sitting behind me. Feeling self-conscious of my behind, I kept wondering if my butt was up to par. I have no idea what makes a nice butt. Personally, I find butts rather repulsive so I am no judge. Then there was a moment during the bus ride when the driver thought it would be a good idea to slam on the breaks sending everyone flying or clinging for dear life to the bar they were holding onto.

It's a good thing I am a stickler for time. I always take the earlier bus in case of situation like this. I got to school with enough time to go to the bathroom and wash my hands. I'm no germ maniac but I felt like my hands were covered in filth. It's a good thing my History class never stars on time.

Segway: The Transportation of the Future?

The first two weeks of the semester I continually saw a middle-aged man around campus on a segway. Now up until this time, the only place I saw segways being used were those rented by a father and son at The Gateway Mall in Salt Lake and the security guards at the Cottonwood Mall. Of course, my first reaction every time I see a person riding a segway is to laugh most heartily. Middle-age Segway Guy was no exception. He even gave me a few laughs. Not only did he buy into the transportation of the future, which failed miserably, but he is proclaiming to the world that he is lazy. He may be using his chosen form of transportation to get around campus fast but there are plenty of other forms that require at least some kind of exercise. Everything about this man screams make fun of me. He could create the illusion that he is one tough segway rider by wearing a cool leather jacket, getting a few tattoos and wearing a bandanna for a helmet substitution. But instead he wears a helmet, a backpack and to top it all off a fanny pack. Obviously this man is a huge fan of failed lame inventions.

Weeks later after the last Middle-age Segway Guy sighting I was starting feel bad about making fun of him. I started to feel sorry for the Middle-aged Segway Guy. He was clearly taken advantage by a malicious segway salesman. Who, I'm sure, filled his head with images of a world where everyone owned "The Transportation of the Future." With promises of a Jetsons like world fast approaching, Middle-aged Segway Guy eagerly bought one in wants to be part of this great technology revolution only to become mocked by a college student. These were the thoughts that mostly preoccupied me while riding the bus or walking on campus. I was even thinking about writing his biography until one fateful day.

I was on my way to Ortega Hall for class. I was running late so I was kind of walking fast and now that look back on it probably erratically. Due to the insane amount of construction occurring on campus, my usual route to class was blocked so I decided to cut across an elevated grass area. I learned that another quality feature of a segway is its stealthiness. I stepped down and started walking towards Ortega. Luckily at that moment I looked up as the Middle-aged Segway Guy came charging full speed ahead towards me. I manged to step back in time to avoid a collision with Segway Guy's segway. I stood in disbelief as I watched him take off in all his fanny pack wearing segway glory. The IRONY! I detected no hint of hesitation, no desperate attempt to slow down or swerve out of the way. He wanted to run me down with his segway. Who knows what he would have done with my body? Probably chop me up into tiny pieces, stuff my pieces into his fanny pack and dump me into the perfect body dumping pond in Socorro.

This attempt to take my life calls for desperate measures! I have decided to start a segway gang. Now this isn't going to be your everyday gang, I'm talking West Side Story style gang with a lot of snapping. I'm in the process of writing some songs. We will be called Sweet Segway Revenge. Of course, we'll have leather jackets and bandannas. Our segways will be equipped with spikes on the sides of our wheels and other intimidating paraphernalia. We'll ride onto campus, hunt down Middle-aged Segway Guy then we'll circle around him on our segways taunting, singing/snapping and making fun of his fanny pack. The climax, Middle-aged Segway Guy and I segway race, Ben-Hur style. I could take the less violent route and start a student organization called Students Against Reckless Segways, SARS for short.

For those who want to join Sweet Segway Revenge or SARS, there will be a meeting October 20th at 4 pm on the 3rd floor of the SUB.

NOTE: No meeting will actually take place.