Bubby.

That's what I've called my big brother Bryan since I could talk. Apparently I had trouble pronouncing his name. I'm not sure though, I think my mom wanted me to call my brother by a cute nickname. You know how moms do that sometimes? Obviously by naming my first baby doll (stay with me here... let's put those phonetics to use...) OH-BA-DIE-YUH. I'm not even kidding. At that point my mom was probably more concerned I would soon be living in a padded white room, not that I would one day compete at Miss America.

Bub and me at my graduation shin-dig.

When Bubby and I were little we used to drive to my grandparent's house on Christmas morning everyyyy year. It was about a 7-8 hour drive and I would read the entire way (my mom called me a nerd at that dinner the other night with Paul, Steve, and Kate Marie. I was not amused.) and my brother used to play whatever hand-held electronic game playing thing had come out that year or before. When we would stop for gas my generous father would allow us one choice snack. Obviously we went for candy (as if our stockings hadn't been packed full that morning). It was like clock work. My brother would always ask me for a taste of mine. I would give. I would then ask for a taste of his. Denied. I got the point when I turned, uh, 13. But when I was 15 or 16 I assumed he had gotten over his Indian giving. No dice.

Anyways, we grew up and became friends. Actually, I adore him. And even cooler: his wife Laura. We all like to play, and Laura and I make up songs such as one titled "Home". We will give you a personal rendition if you catch us together.

This morning Bubby sent me a link: http://community.livejournal.com/ohnotheydidnt/36225342.html. He thought I would find it "amusing". And I did, it is pretty amusing. But it's also clearly well thought through. Perhaps brimming on true intellectual capabilities. Although society is changing women still feel like they need a man to complete them. Or maybe they have to work overtime because they don't have one. To fill that "void" in their life. Or society's severe perspective on beauty. Cough, cough, rather perceived beauty.

This isn't all so different from how the year has been for us as state contestants. I know we aren't considered "celebrities" at their true definition. But, we do go through a lot of the scrutiny that they face. But we're also representative of real women, from the real world. Women who care about changing our communities for the better, that are focused on scholarship, that work towards physical fitness. But we're not perfect.

And neither are fairy tales.