I don't know what's up with my computer, but yesterday morning it suddenly decided to display most text 10 TIMES BIGGER than what it normally is (no, that isn't an example of how it looks now, as I don't know how to do that...perhaps someone out there can let me know). This not only is obnoxious in a "I-feel-like-an-old-lady" sort of way (I already got there when I fell in with the Truman crochet craze over fall finals), but it's kinda awkward that everything I read is now size 24 font. It's also weird because Debbie has this strange habit (that isn't completely obnoxious enough to comment on yet, but it will be by mid-March) of turning around to see what I'm doing, even though I'm not drawing attention to myself in the least (generally I'm studying for history and having my periphial vision messed with every time she turns around), and now it feels like she's getting double the media infusion because not only is she watching tv and reading, she's also reading whatever I'm reading (and watching whatever Weekend Update clip I have playing at the time).

Yes, I realize I could've written that last part more effectively.

I just hope this isn't permament--that I'll just wake up, turn on Merv again, and all will be good with the world. Wait.....unless this is just Merv getting back at me for speaking against him. I love you Merv! Please love me again!

Highlight of the Day: I was the only one who understood, and laughed at, my 80 zillion-year-old brit lit teacher's joke about Shirley MacLaine and reincarnation. I'm hoping this helps my grade.

Dining Room Observations:

* Getting egg yolk in your hair (because your stylish new layered hair enjoys flopping in front of your face, no matter what you do) is one of the most disgusting ways to start out your day.

* Maybe it's just me, but I don't think melon of any kind should taste sour (unless it's one of those Starburst things)

* I have no pity for those St. Louis people complaining about how cold the weather is right now. When it hit eight degrees up here, I broke back out my jacket and lost the scarf and bulky winter coat.

* No matter how much you dab your food with the little paper napkin, you're not getting rid of any actual grease as much as pushing the grease into the food farther.

* Trying to get the egg yolk out of your hair ten minutes later back in your dorm is almost worse than getting it into your hair in the first place.

I don't think Merv likes me anymore.

For those of you who haven't read the fun sidebar yet [see it? right there?], I named my computer Merv last week around 11:30 p.m. just because I could. Ever since then, Merv's really turned against me. It's like, now that he has a name and an idenity of some form, he wants more attention than before. If I leave him on without using him for awhile, he'll start to growl at me as I sit at my desk working on my history homework or whatever. My download times are double, maybe even triple what they used to be last week, pre-naming. I think Merv is even in cahoots (which is a great word, btw) with Lexi, the printer (She's a LexMart) who's started spontaneously turning herself on and off whenever she feels like it.

I guess I should hold off on naming the mouse, or I'll be completely screwed, huh?

So, two posts and an entire day late it's.....Hannah's weekend! [cheers]

This was actually a tame weekend, considering the circumstances. Not only was there the Super Bowl yesterday, but Saturday was Distinguished Scholars visit day. This meant I spent the first half of the day avoiding high schoolers (which wasn't easy--they were swarming around like bugs at a picnic), and then actually sought them out in the afternoon to give tours of my dorm building. I hate to inform the Truman population, but, if those were the "distinguished scholars," I'm worried about next year's freshmen (except for you, Hope, you'll be just fine). Some were pretty nice and with it, though (hi Ashley from KC, who'll probably never know this site exists!), so that made tours fun. After that, I went back to my morning occupation of reading *way* too much David Copperfield for my brit lit class. I swear, if I had time to go back and start a new book, I'd completely give up on this book until I had time to read just one chapter at a time instead of this three-in-a-row nonsense I have to do to keep up for class. And that was pretty much all of Saturday. I talked to Jennifer for awhile on the phone, and I assume she didn't die after she hung up (she called on her cell in the car--a big no-no, kiddies!), although I know her last words would be something ending with "gurgle gurgle" because we joked about that for awhile.

Sunday was the Super Bowl, and I hung out at the Dobson party (with the free food, naturally) for the entire game. Of course, all I was there for was to watch the commercials [I went downstairs for this because they were on a big screen and Debbie was watching "Dirty Dancing," so I figured I wasn't going to gain access to the tv.], so when the game was actually on, I read more of Copperfield (which actually worked more than people would assume--all that focus work in acting must be increasing my concentration, because nobody would've called that group quiet).

Just for the record, the Ozzy commercial was funny (though I still think one of these days America is going to wake up again and say, "Wait...this is the guy who ate the BAT! What are we doing?!"), the Castaway rip-off from Fed-Ex was my fav (both happend during the same break, too), and Alias definitely rocked like the B-52s (even for me, Miss Haven't Seen the Show Since Last Season).

If you want something with more substance about actual news from this weekend (besides the lack of quality freshmen material at Truman State University), take a look at Caleb's post about immiment war that makes all that I just wrote (especially the B-52s reference) seem trivial. But I'm okay with that.

One year ago today, I first saw Truman State University. I applied without really knowing anything about the campus (except the new fine arts building would be open when I came) and feeling I would go to Mizzou no matter what. The only reason I can think of jumping into my head to even apply in the first place is because that was the only way to be eligable for scholarships, though why I'd need scholarships to a school I wasn't going to attend didn't occur to me at the time. But I'll expand on that later.

I made it in and was happy, but still not planning on attending when January came around and I received a skinny envelope from the University. On a single sheet of paper they told me I had earned a Truman Leadership Scholarship, which entails a full ride for four years.

This is when I thought to myself, maybe I shouldn't dismiss Truman completely.

Avoiding the huge visit day, my dad made an appointment to visit on a Monday (which must've been a gold day, because I was excited about missing Calculus). We drove up, took a tour of the campus, met a few professors/heads of departments/whatever, and discussed options over Chinese buffet downtown. (The signifigance of my fortune "Try it, you may like it." still isn't lost on me.) I didn't care much about the biology department (which was one major option I was pondering), but I immediately loved what I saw from the theatre people. That probably made all the difference in the long run, but I still wasn't sure when we left campus that night.

In the following weeks, I kept making a mental list between Mizzou and Truman--Mizzou was closer to home, a campus I already [sorta] knew through Caleb and state choir, and had a biology department that would actually support what I was looking for. It also, however, had an anal theatre department and was (sorry, Bro) where Caleb was. Truman's theatre (the main selling point) covered everything in a flow-y, move with it kind of way, along with being zillions of miles from home and anyone else I knew (both a selling and detracting point) in a frigid wasteland. The theatre department alone would've made it all worth it, in my mind, except I wasn't positive that was what I wanted to do.

This is where I go back to before. When I was trying to figure out where to go, I received great advice from Diane, my friend and [now moved on] pastor's wife: "I've never received great signs from God, just the sound of opening doors." That was when I realized maybe all of it--the frantic filling-out of the application, the acceptance and scholarship letters, the theatre department, and maybe even the fortune cookie--were signs that I needed to go to Truman. For some reason, this was God's plan for me and He was trying to make it obvious what I needed to do.

So here I sit, downstairs in the Dobson computer lab, wondering what that something is. Perhaps it's something in the field of English, which I didn't plan on majoring in until I came here and saw how [relatively] easily I could double in it and theatre. Maybe it's to show me what I'm supposed to do in theatre, since I can try all aspects of it without switching courses. Maybe it's just the people I'm connecting with in some way that I'll changed (or changed by) during the next few years.

I just know I'm here, right where I belong.

Okay, I had this fantastic post about my great weekend (and not-so-great reading assignments) that I was planning on typing up for here. Instead, I checked my email before I even brought up blogger, and found out that Hope got a gigantic scholarship to Truman (can you say full ride?). Words can't express how happy and ecstatic I am for her--it feels like I just found out I got my scholarship all over again; the pure elation that I felt when I found out I got the same thing and wouldn't have to worry about paying for college. I swear, if I was on closer terms with Debbie, I'd dance around the room with her--that's how happy I am at this very moment.

Okay, must email congrats to Hope. I'll try and post double tomorrow.

One last suggestion....download William Shatner's "I am Canadian!" speech, even if you don't keep it long. It's short, quick, and hilarious.

Maybe we should make it 7 a.m. (And download Leonard Nimoy singing "The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins") (Yes, him. Yes, it. It's sure to improve any foul mood.)

Heads up, y'all: I just figured out I could do stuff on the template *besides* post links, so if you visit the site tonight it might be a little funky. I promise to give up by Saturday, around 5 a.m. if I haven't already, so check back after that for the full *newness* of it all. And download some Colin Hay while you're at it (yes, the guy from Men at Work--you can thank me later).

Overheard Around OP:

(finished as needed to [especially to increase humor] by H.E. Smith)

* "...so, I got this pamplet for University of Miami in the mail and then I looked outside and saw it was snowing, and I just thought man...what would I do with my sled?"

* "Yeah, I'm trying for that 4.0 again this semester." "How's that coming?" "Well, I think I'm already better than my record 1.57 from last year..."

* "I'm just worried because the guys I meet in bars are normally jerks, but even my roommate liked this guy!"

I'd just like to say that I think "Temporary Mitten" would make the coolest band name ever. Thank you. (And thank you Blogger for that list of the most recent blogs that always has at least one interesting name.)

The Golden Globes Post
Because I'm Doing Laundry & It's Midnight-Ish
(AKA--The Longest Post *Ever*)
******
I'm not going to even touch the pre-show "people walking in" thing, mostly because I didn't write down any of my comments from it and I don't remember them anymore, and because it's just too easy. We'll just jump right to:

Best Supporting Actress, Movie: Meryl Meryl Meryl. What are you wearing? Say it with me, girlfriend--disco is dead! See, everyone....look at how surprised she is. She must not have thought she was going to win....she probably didn't want to waste money on a quality outfit just to sit at a table and drink free beer all night.

Best Actress, TV: I totally would've made Brad Pitt carry me up to the stairs if I had a broken foot like Jennifer Aniston. What, he can't pick up his tiny wife? He's got muscles. We've seen 'em in all sorts of movies. Wimp. Why was the "Friends" table that far back, anyway. If I could bargain for a million dollars an episode, I know *I'd* be able to wrangle a better table.

Special Note to Debbie, Who Doesn't Read This: Carol Burnett has never been involved in a television or movie production of "Annie." I don't know about on Broadway, per se, but I'm thinking that's bunk also. Thank you.

Best Television Mini-Series: Do any of these people actually care about the mini series category, or are they just clapping for politness? Ooh..Cheers! Oh, they're for Spielberg. I can dig that. More for "The Gathering Storm?" Oh, Ridley Scott, there we go.....Well, okay then. Thanks for clarifying that, lady. For a moment there I thought I was wrong all these years and Ridley Scott was actually a girl. (Hey, I've heard worse names.)

Way, to go Brendan Frasier. (Please salute me!, Wait, I mean....well, go ahead, but...") I sense someone needs love. Was he tickling her? It looked like he was tickling her...I know she was squirming and I couldn't see his right arm and then her right arm popped behind her back and then both because horribly still. I don't know what's going on, and I definitely have no clue what either of them said, because I was too busy obsessing about....well, whatever that was.

Supporting Actress, TV (etc etc etc): Is she wearing a carpet? Kate Hudson's totally wearing a carpet! (And as Debbie said, it's about to come off, too.) You go, Helen Mirren, you go. You spill that ketchup on those horrible teenagers. Right on! I personally would've given the award to Shirely Maclaine just for having the guts to say, "Why yes, I'll play Mary Kay. Why not?" and not worry about how it would affect her career. (I mean, "Hell on Heels?" Are you kidding me?)

Supporting Actor, TV (etc etc etc): Man, this is the weirdest category. Not only do you have eight people, they're from comedies, dramas, and tv movies. Jim Broadbent's not there? Maybe he's hanging out with Paul Newman. Okay, the Don King comment was enough for me to forgive them not giving it to Dennis Hasybret and going to Donald Sutherland instead. Way to make a pop culture reference, Donnie!

Dang, I almost complimented Celine Dion. Blizzard Monday has to be the cheapest semi-crossover/theme night ratings ploy I've ever seen (especially when you throw in the ebola virus). How sad for the writers who actually think this is a good idea.

Actor, Movie (M or C): Who told Sharon Stone to be a punk princess? "Oy," she says. "Second that," we say. I'm thinking someone was hitting the booze backstage, eh, Sharon....especially now as she's trying to get Richard Gere to dance with her onstage. Yes, Nic Cage is laughing with Richard, but inside he's thinking I'll see you at the Oscars, buddy. Just you wait. Renee Zellweger looks like she's either about to burst into tears, or throw up on the table. I'm not sure which. Stop kissing up and get off that stage. Or dance with Sharon. You're boring me right now, Gere.

Actress, Movie (M or C): I think Arnold becomes more adorable all the time. The same could be said for Renee, but it's not as funny. Rnee delivered a beautiful speech about how wonderful Catherine Zeta-Jones is and Catherine then thanked her but oh-so-gracefully (that's sarcasim, y'all) sticking out her tounge at her. The "epitome of movie star class," right there folks!

You know, this show is really zipping along. I wonder what we're going to do for two hours--have Arnold pronounce names with his funny accent? Let Richard Gere finish his list? Maybe we'll let Larry David come out and tell us how much he hates us some more. I could be cool with that.

Actress, TV: I wonder who paid Lara Flynn Boyle to dress up like a pretty, pretty princess ballerina? I hope it involved lots of money, Lara, because that's the sort of embarassment you don't live down easily. I totally have to find a pic of that so I can laugh at her forever. Or until she's extra good and gets a pony. Okay, Edie Falco with laringitis is just hilarious. I think that's going to be the best speech of the night.

Did Celine Dion sell her soul to Chrysler or something? What's up with this singing while cars drive thing? Did she buy *that* much crap for her bouncing baby boy, or has her husband finally started needing health care? (Man, I sound awful tonight.) Boy, how sad for Scott Foley....although, I suppose that's one way to get a change after Felicity. Pick a sucky sitcom sure to flop! Bask in the joy that you've done enough quality work in the past that you don't have to post this on your resume!

Song: If you had a career as varied and multi-talented as Elton John's, and your entrance voice over only mentioned your [quality, yet not most influential] work for "The Lion King," how would that make you feel? Madonna's not helping her career any by writing her own lyrics. Especially when I suspect she was the one who probably said "no, we need MORE techno!" (My ears! My ears!) Sharon Stone's taking this punk princess thing too far, if she's hanging out with U2. She's also taken this "if I act crazy, they'll love it!" thing too far by trying to get on stage with U2.

Aw! The best of ________ clip show! Tonight's featured performer: Gene Hackman! I just hope we feature some Royal Tennanbaums with all this nonsense. Or Robin Williams embarrasses his poor teenage daughter that he dragged along with him. I remember Mississippi Burning. I almost passed out in honors history during that barbershop scene. Yay! Royal!! I would've had the "Me and Julio" montage, myself, but at least we have some Young Frankenstein. YES! JULIO MONTAGE!! Bless your souls! Boy, the carpet in that room is ugly. Orange roses? Yuck! Anyway...Gene Hackman. yeah. Top of the world, indeed Gene. (And I don't mean that with sarcasim.)

Actor, TV (etc etc etc): Wow, Jeff Goldblum really doesn't seem to know what he's doing. Just cut all this stuff and give it to William H. Macy like you know they will. I've actually seen part of that one, and he was amazing. Albert Finnery? Must be because Goldblum forgot to say his name. Maybe he's hanging out with Paul Newman and Jim Broadbent. I could picture the three of them getting into trouble somewhere.

Movie, (M or C): Chicago! Chicago! Chicago! C'mon...we know you're gonna do it! Although I do love Hugh Grant. And Adaptation looks like the loopiest movie ever. (ooh, it gives me a chill just watching that clip from Chicago) And I really liked My Big Fat Greek Wedding, though not enough to give it this award. (And Nia is adorable.) And I was completely unawadr that Nicholas Nicklby was a comedy.

SEE!! SEE SEE SEE! First the Globe, next the Oscar! Rock out! It's fun because, I don't know if they did this on purpose or were just trained so well, but the cast all moved in time to the music whenever the music came up after they won (not just this time--Renee and Catherine totally moved in time to the percussion/trumpet cressendo when Renee won). If I wasn't so hyped to see this movie, I'd be sick of listening to all these people sing (hee hee) each other's praises. It's a little sad, because this is all the love that I wanted shown to Moulin Rouge last year, even though it didn't really get it. (Well, it sorta did here, but totally robbed at Oscars).

Anyway.

here we are, Celine Commercial #4 (or possibly #5), although it's a repeat of an earlier one, so at least they didn't make an infinite amount of these things. There still is hope for the universe!

Movie (Drama): I enjoyed all the shots of various guys in the audience making "wow" faces as Halle Berry came out. (Yes, Robin Williams, I'm talking to you.) I suppose I should see what the fuss is all about now that The Hours won the big award. Wow, the only one out of Nicole, Julianne, and Meryl who looks semi-normal is Julianne. The only one who didn't win was Julianne. I sense a freakish outfit at the Oscars!

Yup, we had to get one last Celine Commercial in before we ended, didn't we? Ooh...montage of all the previous commercials! How completely unoriginal of you!

Wee! We actually finished *undertime*....maybe they'll take the time they had left over here, and claim they can use it as a gimme when the Oscars run long in March. (I don't think I should do one of these for the Oscars....there's too much more....spectacule involved. Besides, I plan to watch at the hall party instead of just sitting in my room, making comments to Debbie. Oh, well. Hope it was worth your time, although it probably wasn't. Ta da.)

If I'd known I was going to have lunch with three cute foreign guys (either Russian or German, I'm not sure which), I totally would've plucked my eyebrows this morning instead of saying "Yeah, that's good enough...I'll do it on Saturday."

Okay, I would've worked up the Golden Globes post for y'all today, but I was actually kinda avoiding the computer because it reminds me of this email that I really need to write to somebody because it's been bugging me since Sunday night sometime, but I don't know how to write it or how to describe it or why I'm even telling you people about it, but geez, do I have lots of frustration right now and journalling is only making it worse. This would be prime time to pop in a video or DVD, but Debbie's watching Buffy and my player's still broken (as I've mentioned about a zillion times since it broke--sorry that I keep bringing it up) and there's no vid clips on my computer that I want to watch that I haven't watched at least once this past holiday weekend.

The stupid thing is the person I'd probably be able to explain this best to is the same person that it all concerns. I know, I'm being vague. I just don't know whether this person reads this blog, so I don't want to go around tossing names right and left.

I wish I was sleepy so I could just go to bed and stop obsessing about this. Does anyone out there have some NyQuil they want to share?

I just find this funny for no good reason, but I'm inflicting it on you people anyway.....so click here to learn how to draw the Dalai Lama. You heard me, the Dalai Lama.

I think this is goodnight for real this time. Goodnight.

Why is it I always find it harder to post during days when I concievably have nothing going on (i.e. - the weekend, Friday evening, holidays), yet always fit in stuff during the weekdays? Oh, yeah, I'm avoiding homework. That clears things up.

Anyway, I'm sure you don't want me to go into detail about all the nonsense I did this weekend (especially as it was a holiday and my first weekend back in Kirksville [which only means I had people to see again, not that I suddenly had a wealth of new stuff to do--Hope and Tabitha, if you're still planning on coming here, don't think you're going to get the big college town experience of Columbia]), although I will say it included going to see Two Towers with a bunch of *fanatical* LOTR people in a theater almost completely empty (besides us and two other groups), hanging out watching "Welcome Back, Kotter" and trying to figure out who the guest star was, and singing John-Jacob-Jingleheimer-Schmidt in the middle of the Wal-Mart deli. I suppose I also scribbled off some homework, but nothing comparing to the two-three-ish hours spent catching up with Sluggy Freelance. Sounds productive enought to me!

Next up: (as soon as I finish editing and all around polishing) my personal take on the Golden Globes! Goodnight, y'all!

Back during elementary school (and even until high school), snow was the greatest thing to happen, especially if you didn't realize it was supposed to snow when you went to bed the night before. You'd just wake up the next morning at the usual time, open the curtains, and see nothing but perfect, untouched, white. You might run into the living room to watch the morning news, but deep down you would know it's going to be a snow day.

That same vibe came to me this morning when I woke up and the sun was reflecting off of the white ground of the Dobson courtyard. I didn't even need to turn on a light this morning, it was so brilliant through my window. And my inner child thought, better check the school closings, even though Truman has only closed for snow two, maybe three, times in its entire history. Today didn't increase that number (though I didn't expect it to do so; we only got about six inches tops), although that meant I didn't spend the day sleeping and ignoring homework.

Since I had to actually get up and walk to class, I got to experience the quiet walk to breakfast while no one else was up. I suppose they all wanted to spend as much time under their warm blankets as possible, but I was happy to walk through the flurries and street slush. I could listen to the snow crunch under my size-6 shoes while the wind blew powdery snow into my hair and scarf. I could hear the snow actually hit my coat, a sound I'd never heard before because there's generally so many people around. This morning it was just me in my own personal snow globe.

It was almost as good as a snow day.

You Heard it Here [Thirty] First!: It's official, y'all--Harry Potter five comes out on June 21st! You can even pre-order it already on Amazon.uk.co and take advantage of their half-off price offer (although, then you have to deal with paying in pounds and probably extra shipping to even get it *over* to the U.S.....or wherever you ar).

Of course, this has caused a mini riot among the Potterheads I know on campus. (Especially when you mention that it's supposed to be longer than the last one.....although that causes a slightly different reaction [Longer? What do you mean Longer?! It'll take me two weeks to read the thing!].) Me? I'm just glad that it's coming out and (even better) arriving when I won't have to make myself finish calculus homework before reading the next chapter. God bless summer release dates!

I think I'll leave things at that tonight. I'm actually caught up on homework (until tomorrow piles more on again), we're supposed to have eight inches of snow by morning (not that we'll cancel classes or anything--welcome to college!), and I owe some people email. We'll see if I can change any of that.

It's emails like this that make me smile.

From : Jennifer
To : Hannah
Subject : Why I think life is like toast.
Date : Tue, 14 Jan 2003 15:25:08 -0800 (PST)

Life is like toast because you can have some and it tastes good, but when you start to have too much it makes you want to gag and shoot yourself.

~Jennifer

This disturbes me to no end, if only because a small part of me (that slice that still loves pink and picked out my neon blue feather boa) thinks it would be so cool. I grow less mature everyday.

I guess since I sorta promised to talk about my thoughts from visiting high school before I left for college again, I should actually do it. Not that there's much to say; I came, stayed much too long, and actually found myself missing high school all over again. How sad for me.

Anyway, there's still a few observations to make. Here, in convenient list form, are...

Hannah's Sorta-High School Related Thoughts

* Even if I *do* grow up to be the "big money Broadway stage manager," just like say I will, Kovar, will I grow so jealous of the performers who actually get to go onstage, like I've always dreamed, that I'll start sabotaging their entrances and stuff in a sort of "if I can't do it, neither can you" sort of retribution? I don't see myself turning into the Phantom of the Opera or anything, but I could potentially see some unhappiness on my part as the years would pass.

* The honors English class actually wanted to work on their papers and not stall by asking questions about college. I even said (actual quote, y'all) "we can stall for you." They just stared at me and said they really wanted to go to the library, thanks. The library?!? My class would've *killed* for that sort of opporitunity. Of course, that's probably why we never got it.

* When your percussion friend tells you he loves you more than even before because you played bass drum in college band (after switching from flute), should you be concerned since you didn't know he loved you in the first place, or just accept it as a "percussion thing" and move on?

* No matter where you go, when you eat lunch with friends, someone will always end up bursting into song by the end of the period (or at least end up arguing about something pointless, like pantyhose).

Sullivan forever our song shall be...

I'm nearly completely settled back into my college dorm room. There's a Wal-Mart sack with notebooks and such behind me, a small rubbermaid container with odds and ends on my side desk, and I'll have to find a spot for my new DVDs (No, I never fixed the player. I kinda feel like I should've just left them at home because I don't think they're going to do me much good until I finally suck it up and waste $40 to buy a new copy.) But I'm not going to mess with it tonight. I've picked up my books, found all my classes (a couple of friends and I wandered around campus through all the open buildings), and rearranged my bookshelf to fit the backpack full of paperbacks I brought up. I'm playing up-beat music because I'm trying to stay cheerful and remind myself how much I liked college the first semester before I start to cry or something. My snowglobe featuring a picture of Jennifer sleeping on the bus back from the Cotton Bowl (circa 1999) is directly in front of me, where my old snowglobe of a surfing alligator (from Ron Jon's Surf Shop) used to be until some books fell and knocked it off my shelf. This globe is plastic; I don't forsee any problems. Debbie, my roommate, is watching Armageddon on F/X for about the tenth time (it must be a movie they seriously invested in, because they've shown it so many times since I came here in August) and Bruce Willis is arguing with Liv Tyler about whether or not she's allowed to marry Ben Affleck. I wonder if anyone's had this conversation with J.Lo. It just occurred to me that I was going to post about my trip up to my old high school on Friday, and my ensuing thoughts and ponderances. Maybe I'll do that tomorrow, after I finally label the backs of my photos from first semester (four months on two cameras--not bad, eh?).

Maybe I'll just shake my snowglobe and watch the snow fall.

That sounds nice.

Happy Birthday, Megan Dittman!

Megan (and her roommate, and my fellow WACT classmate, Emily) was the very first person I met at college, as I got seperated from my hall group and ended up sitting next to them at the openning freshman orientation thing. [Of course, I didn't remember this until Megan mentioned it again in November because I was a little emotionally distraut at the time.] A fellow theatre-english double major, she was part of the group that got me flowers for my college theatre debut, which is part of the reason why I adore her. She's part of the group who can always make simple things like just going to Wal-Mart a grand adventure and boring scholarship classes a little more bearable [as long as you obey the law of the harvest!] She laughs at my jokes and it is through her that I learned Dominos may have better pizza, but Pizza Hut will actually deliever to your door. She doesn't read my blog (because she doesn't know it exists), but hopefully someone will inform her so she can hear me gush about her. It's always nice to hear praise [see "favorite new quote," below].

In honor of the [still semi-] new New Year, here's a list of

My Favorite New Things:

* Favorite New Quote: "We must all flaunt ourselves. We are all fabulous." - Polly Horvath (I like to imagine this said in a saucy, British-accent-tinted diva voice.)

* Favorite New Annoyance: The backspace key on this keyboard is about the size of all the letter keys, so anytime I try to back-up, I get \\\\\ all over the place.

* Favorite New Soda: Mr. Green, which is supposedly Pepsi Corp.'s answer to Dr. Pepper, but is only spifftacular because of the mutant green lizard thing on the can ("Mr. Green" himself, I assume.)

* Favorite New Christmas Present: the keychain version of those hamsters that sing and dance (this one is the "Born to Be Wild" one--I especially dig his fake leather jacket) which Hope found and gave to me this morning.

* Favorite New Reason to Go Back to College: grading papers for eight hours. Yes, I was paid, and, yes, I volunteered, but it was grading papers for *eight* hours

* Favorite New Reasons *Not* to Go Back to College: Do I really need one?

I've been up for two hours already. (Yeah, I know--some of you had to get up at five or even earlier. I'm on vacation, and I'm trying to get used to getting up early for those 8:30 classes that start next week.) My hair is completely dry, which never happened when it was long. I'm listening to Jennifer Holiday belt her signature song from "Girlfriends," that musical about a girl group in the...seventies? I don't really remember, but it's not important. It's supposed to be a high of sixty-something this afternoon, so I pulled my flip-flops out of storage for the day. I'm getting nowhere on fixing my DVD player (although I've found so many probably-illegal download sites to choose from, if I knew what I was actually looking for.)

Yesterday I bought the most un-Valentine's Day Valentine's Day cards ever made--"I Heart Mud"--from the local Wal-Mart. I did not use my discount card, although it still works, five months after I left. I just found my cat curled up into a warm ball of fur and purrs downstairs on a pile of old towels in the basement, then ate all but four of the leftover Mint Creme Oreos that Hope gave me back in November for breakfast. If it wasn't still in his computer (next to his bed, where he'll be asleep until about noon), I'd steal Caleb's copy of Signs, just so I can have it floating in my head again. This afternoon, I'm picking up my pictures from the entire first semester of college. I'm scared to think what I caputured on film. And excited.

It's gonna be a good day.

I know I'm truly obsessing and turning into a style-savvy sorority sister (at least I still have alliteration), but I cannot stop brushing my hair. This isn't what you people want to read from me, I'm sure, but I probably brushed my hair fifteen different times today. This is unnatural for me. I was doing good before to brush my hair and stick it in a ponytail, and now I'm pulling out cute hair clips, spending half an hour with a blowdryer, and even seriously considering pulling out the curling iron tomorrow morning just to practice curling the ends of my newly layered hair. I've even been planning outfits for next week based on what new thing I want to do with my hair that day ("I'll wear the chopstick shirt on Tuesday, so I'll need to pull out the sticks and then I'll pair my blue sparkly headband with the white-striped shirt on Wednesday...").

How has this happened to me?!?

Stylish for the First Time in 18 Years: Yesterday, I was fully prepared to write a profound, moving post on the loss of my hair (I always get sappy about haircuts because, dang, do I accumulate hair). That was, however, before I actually got my hair chopped and fell in love with my new hair. Against some advice (and with others), I ended up with layers, though I’m hoping that natural-curl-at-the-ends thing works out and I don’t have to mess with a curling iron all the time. (Not that I will even if the curl doesn’t pop up—there’s a reason I haven’t been stylish since I was born: I don’t care.) I think I lost five inches total, but it feels like a whole lot more.

Especially when I dump out the same amount of shampoo as before and have to stuff half of it back in the bottle.

Snow! Snow snow snow! And it keeps falling!

Yes, I'm excited. Kirksville winter is supposed to be wretched--it was 52 for the high when I left in December. I'm a little happy to see snow anywhere, including home (where I am right now....there was some confusion).

Snow Snow Snow Snow Snow!!!

[NOTE: I wrote this in the car coming home from Kansas City (well, Independence, but I still call it KC) last night. I’m lazy, and I’m going to use it anyway, even though it talks about how many hours are left until midnight. Yes, I could just leave this out. No, I won’t.]

I’m currently writing by flashlight (which is muffled from bugging my dad, the fussy driver, by my Truman sweatshirt). We’re on a patch of highway not too far from Independence, MO, where you can see the stars between headlights. It’s 6:21 and there are five hours and 39 minutes left in 2002. Caleb just gave up trying to read by headlight and is attempting to sleep by leaning against the pile of beddings stacked in the middle of the backseat. In about five minutes, my measly space will decrease even further as Caleb’s weight displaces pillows onto my side, so I should write fast while I can still move my elbow.

I’ve only posted once since I’ve been home, but I don’t know if this is a result of my non-constant, exceedingly slow internet connection, my utter lack of doings, or (later) my reluctance to mooch off others’ internet (even relatives).

I supposed I did *some* things over that Christmas stretch where I had no posts, but they mostly consisted of lots of small children arguing over who’s turn it was to play on the Playstation 2 (Santa was good to some people this year), crocheting my ears off, and updating my mom’s pop culture level by watching some of the newest popular movies, courtesy of my cousin’s DVD collection. I will say that the best Christmas present given to anyone this year was from my Uncle George to my Aunt Lori. He ordered Rocky Horror Picture Show on Amazon, but it wasn’t in yet, so he gave her a box with toast, a squirt gun, rice, and other things used in the interactive versions of the movie. My DVD collection expanded, which is why I really need to fix my player before going back to college where I won’t have time to watch any of them, but I’d like to know I could.

Cutest thing overheard: “We don’t have a Christmas tree, we have a Christmas box!” (I could explain, but then it’ll lose it’s charm.)

This is growing hideously long, so I’ll wrap up. I despise New Years Resolutions, mostly because they seem pointless and I never keep them. [My fake one, however, (you always need a fake one for when someone asks you what your resolution is) is to blink more. Let’s see y’all top that.] Instead, I prefer New Years Confessions. Then I get things out of my system and am free to embarrass my self again in the next year. So…

2003 Confessions

I will deny all of these if questioned in public.

* I know all the words to “Wannabe,” right down to the last zigga-zig-ah, due to a freshman year incident in the library.

* I truly believe I’ll know the man I’m supposed to marry when I meet him because I’ll always have a quip ready for any comment or teasing he may do.

* I’d also love it if he had an accent

* I just used “reassert” and “ka-bloowie” in the same sentence.

And if none of those seem embarrassing enough…

* The last time I kissed a [non-related] boy was first grade. I don’t remember his name, but I remember it happened during recess.

Happy New Year, y’all!