An Epiphany: Apparently, Will Smith writes tripe like "Wild Wild West" so a cappella groups can perform great, show-stopping covers.

(No, of course I'm not asleep like I should be. I managed about twenty minutes this afternoon, but then I woke up hungry and spent two hours in the dining hall talking about Barbies. Man, I dig college life.)

I just got back to the room, and Debbie's gone.

Goodnight, everyone. Sleep calls.

I should be asleep right now.

I know, it's only 3:17 (according to the computer lab clock), but I don't what this "24 Hour Theatre" thing to turn out like the night the juniors all decorated for prom the next day and didn't leave until 4-something in the morning (although then my Mom and I got fresh donuts from Wal-Mart). I don't really think I'll be craving sweet breakfast food tomorrow morning though, just sleep.

I also didn't want weird dreams from "Prince of Egypt" (which is what Debbie was watching when I came back early from Spanish) messing with my blessed sleep. I'm not sure why that made me decide it was the perfect time to "work" on my Four Year Plan (the "" are because I did more catching up with MeHead and Found Magazine than anything else), but that seemed like a great idea at the time.

I think I should do some actual work now. Or, at least go back upstairs so I can play Spider Solitaire or something.

Apparently somebody thought I was serious (it was probably myself) when I signed up to be an assistant stage manager for the Truman "24 Hour Theatre" thing this weekend, because not only do I have a position, but I'm a full blown SM. I'm starting to wonder what I've gotten myself into now that I know my call time tomorrow is 12 (as in midnight), though I'm grateful I'm not a general crew person who gets to wake up (or stay up, more likely) for the pleasant 2 a.m. call. I'm already getting excited about it (this post may not show it, but I *am* coming off Brit Lit right now--the "date" went swell, Tennyson's a perfect gentleman), but I'm also wondering what weird dreams I'll have tomorrow afternoon when I try to take a nap while Debbie watches Macgyver.

I'll let y'all know how it goes. (Well, that probably goes without saying.....what *else* theatre-wise do I have going on in my life right now? [Naturally, besides my open scenes with Ben, where I daily try to kill myself by falling off a chair.] What else would I write about, calculus?)

What are *you* doing tonight?: Me? I've got a hot date with some peppermint cocoa, a Charlotte Church CD, and my Brit Lit textbook. Naturally, for a date of this magnitude I look fantabulous, what with my Paris slippers and the pipe cleaner holding my hair in a pony tail. Who wouldn't want to date me at this moment? Sorry boys, I'm taken by Tennyson.

Won't you be my neighbor?: It's weird to get any news of real substance from AintItCool (what am I going to learn from an entertainment website that affects my life?), but this really got to me when I read it. I didn't even put that "Hearbreaking Day in the Neighborhood" thing together, either. It feels kinda weird to feel so sad over the death of a person I never met, but I suppose, in his own way, Fred Rogers was that first adult (outside of family) that I felt like I could trust. He was kinda like the friend your parents had that would always take time out of talking to them to tell all the kids a story or at least listen to them talk for awhile. If nothing else, I hold Mr. Rogers in fondness because I always believed they were singing to "Hannah" and not "Anna Platypus" and I always dug the mini-operas everyone put on (Bubbleland Opera! I cried when the hummingbird died!)

Yes, I knew they were puppets and people in costumes and a guy who had a quirky shoe trick. But I'll miss having him as my neighbor.

(Allow me to go into ditz mode) Oh! Remember back at the beginning of the week when I was like "this is evil" and "that's evil" and blah. I suppose it wasn't so great a week then. But I was kinda stressed because the person I was supposed to room with (Melissa, who I still am, btw) had been really sick and went home on Wednesday night....except I didn't know this until Sunday when we were supposed to go [together] to fill out the housing contracts. Naturally, there's kinda a problem when you don't have both people there and you NEED both future-residents. I got to stand around an extra hour or so because I had to talk to the people at the front door, who had to talk to their advisors, who had to talk to *their* advisors, and so forth, until I was ready to scream and say "Screw you, Truman!" while throwing stuff.

That was definitely a bad day. (Not to mention falling down the stairs AND spilling my hot cocoa all over myself....although then I got to do laundry, which always makes me feel better.)

Maybe gummy worms are just making up for that? (I dunno, either, but now I'm gonna make some cocoa)

I don't know if I'm just using up all my good days for 2003 in one shot, or if I'm just enjoying life than I did before, but I had another great day. High points? Theme night in the dining hall (I have so much tropical junk from Oriental Trader in my room right now, it makes me giddy), having our fish "talk" to each other during leadership class, devouring gummy worms afterward, and typing to "Too Darn Hot" on the PBS showing of "Kiss Me, Kate." (Live! In London!!)

Feel free to call me a musical geek now. I already called myself the same.

And, I couldn't possibly love my Mother more than I have this week, as I finally (and, boy, has this been bugging me for a long time) found out that it's the Walkmen's "We've Been Had" playing in the background of the Saturn Ion commercial about growing up from the "On the Spot" column in EW. Love it (the commercial and EW). (And my mommy.)

With that Superhero Theme...: Dudes, I could push this button forever.

Anybody have suggestions for what my superhero name should be? Ben and I switched parts for one of our open scenes, and now *I'm* the hero rescuing poor defense-less Ben, but I need a name. Thoughts?

Just to warn everyone, basically this post will be about everything I wrote on my hand while my Brit Lit teacher droned about Keats for and hour this morning.

So....(because it's higher up on my hand than anything else)....Jennifer, you need to download the jazz song "Moanin'" to hear the sweet featured bari solo. There was a jazz festival at Truman this weekend, and the chick who played the solo on this song got a standing ovation at the end (for good reason).

All Caleb's talk about getting "poor sweet baby" emails only fuels my sudden need to order the "Snoopy! the Musical" cast album off Barnes and Noble. (And, Caleb, I say to you: "Forget it, Chuck!")

Going back and reading my survey email from last night, I'd like to apologize both for being in a majorly weird mood and using such incredibly small text. Merv's still making everything too big, and it looks the right size when I change the font down. I suppose I'll just suck it up in the future (or email everything from the computer lab). I don't know why I start blabbing all over the place when I'm feeling kinda off (although this--again--is how my acting class learned about my slight hang-up on Lady Macbeth), but it's kinda scary to go back and read it now and see myself talking at length about vegetables, movies, and armadillo necklaces.

I don't know why history class keeps making me think about this, but I swear I spent a good ten minutes thinking to myself about how I need to buy Best in Show on DVD when my player works again.

I don't know what that poor person was looking for when they searched for "poisones animal in the world" and got my sight at the top of the list, but I hope they finished their science paper (doesn't that sound like a middle school science paper topic?) on time. At least I can understand getting my site for "life is like a tree." I don't know where MSN pulled toast out of "poisones."

Yes, I too think I'll like Stats when I finally have to take it. Me and my obsession with details, huh?

My acting class performance observation paper is also evil.

Housing registration is evil. More later.

(The fourth floor microwave is evil, also, but at least it didn't try to screw me out of a third floor room.)

It upsets me to no end that that the girls down the hall had to erase their dry erase board to fit on a new phone message. Why? That means they erased my new favorite quote: "Health is the devil...it's got the word "hell" in it for a reason."

That quote improved my morning a couple times. Do you think they'd notice if I stuck it on my board to mock them? Nah, they'd probably be too drunk to realize it. (Yay, fun with sorority girls time!)

I've never laughed so hard in the computer lab in my life. Click here and scroll down to February 14, 2003, where there's a splendiferous rant about how Disney's planning to revamp "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" segment from Fantasia (yes, you read that right).

Okay, this is a good week. I got to be a five-year-old in Acting class, I found out I got "A"s on both my history and Brit Lit test, and--best of all--I finally figured out how to get on the network (movies downloaded in *two minutes,* y'all--I'll never get to leave my room again) and got to re-organize all my music and video files with categories and sub-categories and sub-sub-categories.

That last part leads me to this: Hope Slaby, wherever you are, YOU WERE RIGHT.

She'll know what I mean. (Maybe. Think SAGE class, Hope. Got it? Really? No? That's okay.)

I have so many things that I want to post, but I've kept *so* busy this week I haven't had enough time to post. So, prepare for some jumbled thoughts.....

For some reason, the old game MASH popped into my head in choir class. Y'all remember that--the little game that was supposed to "predict" who you'd marry, where you'd live, etc? While it sounded great at the time, if I truly end up marrying Danny Rubenstein and drive home from my marine biologist job in a champagne colored Neon to my blue house with two kids, I think I'll drive off into that big ocean next to where we live.

My entire acting class today learned about how I was irked at Kovar for *not* being Lady Macbeth last year (I nailed the audition and the callback) because the same person that I did a personal bonding activity thing with also got to imitate me to the class today. For the record, I tell that story so much better than John.

I haven't found a better way to walk back to the dorm between classes than to run in circles in the snow while enjoying the radiance of the sunshine (which will probably disappear by Sunday, but has been hanging around for a couple days now).

Jennifer, your stickers are going out either today or [more likely by the time I get down to the mailbox] tomorrow. Gage the mail accordingly.

Whatever happened to Gage Parks? Sorry, the "gage the mail" just threw me off track.

The best parts of meeting Ben for open scene practice yesterday involved *anything* but actually practicing: ranting about Ben Affleck (and generally mocking of the movie "Daredevil"), mocking the dumb people on whatever MTV show was on at the time (something involving races and climbing around on cars to pick up plastic donuts in the fastest time), and being filled in ["by whom," says Mrs. Fye] about the secrets of the network, none of which I'll ever share with you croutons.

Macgyver's first name is "Angus." Really. Check it out.

UGH! Stop eating my posts! (And I'm not even on Merv!)

Anyway.

Today was a mostly good day (although it's obviously gone downhill since dinner). I did a great job on my monologue--I even "completely terrified" one of my classmates (yes, this is a good thing)--and didn't even feel naseous about it like I did on Friday. Then, I found out we were supposed to do our voice readings of "Jabberwocky," which I, like most of the class, forgot about, so my friend Ben and I ended up doing a dramatic reading that was 2 parts Disney (and Sterling Holloway), 3 parts Muppets, and 5 parts really goofy hand motions. Oh, yes, we were loved by all.

Later, I ended up having an hour long conversation with Jolene, who I did One-Acts with last semester, about how the snow screwed up her travel plans (she drove up today instead of yesterday afternoon, lucky girl), among other things, instead of working on my Spanish workbook. I also had an extended conversation with Masai, one of the international students, about how much homework we both had and how easy it would be to just jump off the roof and make interesting designs in the snow beneath.

Dinner was probably the last great part of the day, as we finally invited too many people to eat at the same time and couldn't squeeze everyone around one round table. This meant we "ostricized" half to the next table over. Somehow, one table turned into the U.S. and the other into Canada (which was naturally the one I was at), leaving us no choice but to sing a couple choruses of "Blame Canada," debate why so many Canadians live close to the border (I argued it was to be close to the malls which the beautiful Canadian wilderness has no room for), and successfully annex "Idaho" (my friend Meredith) into part of Quebec. Supper tonight ranked up with the time we debated Hamlet and killer monkeys all at the same time.

Must go study now. I don't really want to, but I also don't especially wish to fail. Danged over-achieverness!

It's becoming confounded addicting to read up my site stats on blogpatrol (which I only signed up for because of the free counter). Right now, I really should be re-reviewing my notes for my Brit Lit test tomorrow, but instead I'm wondering what things like "dh101001.truman.edu" mean (I'm guessing something identifying the computer that people use to access my site) and noticing an overwhelming majoring uses Internet Explorer version 6 (18 of the last visitors).

This isn't good. Soon all my posts will be about the majority screen resolution of the day. Y'all have permission to abandon me completely when that happens.

I suppose I should start noting when I'm leaving for the weekend....although any spaces between when I post aren't nearly as confounded long as Caleb's.

Anyway, it was--well, I'd normally say "nice" or "great" or something here, but it doesn't apply to the entire weekend--to go home, although the fact that Sullivan's weather was actually worse than anything they got up here boggles my mind. (Truman's sidewalks are still mostly ice covered, though, which was an interesting piece of information when I was carrying all of my bags back to my room from the far parking lot. Let's just say I didn't catch on right away.)

This is going to completely throw off whatever order I was trying to apply to this post [none], but there's a guy two rows away from me in the computer lab who looks just like Todd Mesger (although he has fewer facial piercings). FYI - Todd is playing Mark Twain for some Missouri History thing Kovar's putting together (or at least cast) at the end of March. Doesn't that sound like a riot?

Anyway.

I don't know if I'll ever help Mrs. Watkins with a Scholar Bowl tournament ever again, but I suppose I had a good time. I'm sure Jennifer had fun making fun of me (and speaking of Jennifer, make sure and click on the comment board for Feb. 13 to read her great rant about Valentine's Day.....you've got some mail coming your way!)

I'm not really getting anywhere, but I didn't have much planned out to write, so I think I'm going to give in and do my Calculus homework. Bleck, I know, but necessary.

Soundtrack for today's post: "Valentine" by The Get-Up Kids. Appropriately mellow theme music.

Back in...oh, about third grade, Valentine's Day was my absolute favorite holiday. Why not? You got candy, everyone passed out cute little cards (lots of which I still have somewhere, unless Mom cleaned my room after I left for college like she did Caleb's), and you could blatantly tell guys you like them because everybody got cards. There was no favortism involved back then, so if you (and by "you" I mean "I") wanted to give a card to David Kromery (Yes, him. He became my archnemesis in high school, but in elementary school I thought he was hot stuff) professing my love--though "love" is a strong word for third grade romance--I could do so without everyone knowing.

Flashforward to middle school when we switched from fairness police to "life's not fair--deal." Suddenly, valentines only came to a select few, and I, generally speaking, wasn't included in that number. Sure, I still received candy, but it's not the same getting conversation hearts from your mother as from the cute boy two rows back to the left.

And then there's high school, with the entire confounded office filled with sickly-pink over-priced gifts. Why do you people have to make single people feel so left out? I know it's just another commercially dreanched holiday designed to give store owners a way to tide themselves over until Easter (which I'm sure will grant its own little rant about commercialism when it comes around), but it's the happiness of you dating people that irks me more than anything.

I'll make a deal with y'all...the first person who tells me how miserable Valentine's Day makes them feel (or, barring that, the first person who just needs some sunshine) will receive some fun stickers in the mail. We single (or just miserable) people gotta stick together!

I keep leaving and finding new things I want to say. Oh, the things I do to get myself out of history reading assignments. We'll stick them all (excpet for my big V-Day post...that'll come later, after I re-type it--Thanks, Merv. Luv ya, too!) here so I can stop listening to the Chicago soundtrack and actually read about the turn of the century. Not that I want to.

Muny full season is now up! (Side by Side! Yum, Sondheim!)

All this talk about duct tape makes me want to pull my dress out of storage and parade around campus. (Hey, it's not like the people haven't seen weird things around here, we've got killer squirrels, Pete's sake!)

A special Valentine gift that'll even withstand terrorism! Brilliant!

The first Fye student who emails me/comments/guestboards/whatever that they want it can have a free bonus point mailed straight to their door: a reference to Shakespeare ("Hamlet," specifically) from an article about "American Idol," nonetheless. Yours free, all because I might as well pass it along instead of just giving it to her specifically.

Any takers?

(Ed> I heard from Sam earlier in the evening, so it's going her way....albeit personally rather than through the mail. I suppose that at least saves me a stamp.)

In honor of Valentine's Day (hee hee), here's a fun article from MSN about celebrity weddings.

(Ed. - I had a sweet article by an irate chick about how she hates this holiday, but Merv seems to have eaten the link.)

Egads and Joy!: I got my Brit Lit paper back today and....not only did I get an 'A' on the confounded thing, I also got a verbal "good work!" Yeehaw! (I feel kinda silly, though, because I screwed up on a basic MLA point on my works cited page [I indented where I wasn't supposed to]....nobody tell Fye, okay?)

I think everyone and their duck (yes, "duck") must be on the network right now, because everything's hideously slow...and most of it keeps coming up "cannot find server" once Merv deems it ready to place on my screen. (With as happy as Merv is, this is naturally happening a lot and with the longest amount of time in between.)

I'm working on making the guestbook a little less bland (now that I know it actually works!), and we'll see how easily I screw that up.

Wish me luck (either to screw up or not, your choice).

Oh, Dear Lord in Heaven, I actually found a guestbook that worked. Can somebody cue some Handel for me, 'cause I feel some "Hallelujah"s coming on!

I really should be working on my essays for the history test on Thursday, but I'm listening to the Supremes (by way of my senior year memories CD--do any drama club people read this that remember the karaoke machine?), and that doesn't lend itself to imperialism during the late 1800s too especially well. That, and it's boring.

So, here I am, without anything to really report to the world except that imperialism feels especially inane after you've been talking about it for four hours (though, granted, Gilmore Girls was part of that, and we all know I wasn't focused on the Monroe Doctrine so much as Rory screwing up her love life). Pretty much all that snow that fell last night [when I was probably keeping Debbie awake with my typing, but I didn't care so much at the time] melted all ready, but that simply meant I could combine two of my favorite precipitation past times (splashing in puddles and walking through softly falling snow--the wind blew it off the trees all afternoon) into one delightful activity.

Where were all these big words when I was working on my essays?

I should probably get back to work (especially now that I'm on the more meditative "Amazing Grace"), but I still don't feel like it. That means one thing.....web comics!

The Oscar list is out! Only forty days left (according to the Oscar site counter) until the massive award show of them all!

It's snowing outside my window, which isn't anything new anymore (this is the fourth or fifth time it's snowed this month alone), but it looks very peaceful right now....probably because I don't actually have to go outside and walk to a boring class at this moment. I'm torn between making a cup of hot chocolate and sitting on the bench outside the main entrance, just letting the snow grow deeper around me, and curling up in my fleece blanket and going to bed.

My brit lit paper's finished, Colin Hay is playing on the computer, and I'm too cosy to walk down (and back up) four flights of stairs. I'll see you in the morning, as in the one with actual sunshine instead of safety lights reflecting off the snow.

Advice From Me to You: If you decide you absolutely *must* lean back in your desk chair, make certain that there's either something close enough behind you to keep the chair from falling completely over or something is keeping you propped on the desk, such as a foot or leg. And, it's also a good idea, if you (or the chair) decide to fall over, not to have a group of people in the room at the same time, unless you enjoy being laugh at during your time of misfortune.

Oscar nominations come out tomorrow, and I'm too busy going to classes to actually watch the nominations tomorrow morning. Confound myself and my need for breakfast!

Now That I Have 1/2 the Soundtrack on Merv: y'all don't need to hear me gush about "Chicago" (you can listen to the people who get paid to do that instead, because I've got to mess with my brit lit paper still (see below post for when I was *majorly* frustrated four hours ago).

Anyway, since I'm not going to let you in on how fantabulous I thought the movie was (or how, when they say Richard Gere can tap dance, they mean he can confounded dance - man, that made me want to pull out my tap shoes and dance around for awhile), I figure, "why not the trailers instead?" I'm a movie trailer junkie. I know some people plan their movie going plans so they can miss seeing the previews or don't mind if they come in after the trailers have started, but that drives me crazy. It's like I've missed something because I missed whatever tripe Jim Carrey's putting out that summer or the newest sequel destined to be worse than the original. (All this means that I don't appreciate people *talking* during the previews, either, but I suppose that group two rows behind me didn't know that, so I shouldn't justify my throwing candy at them as a means of defending the arts, huh?)

So, here it is, fully link-a-fied for your enjoyment (hope you've got Quicktime)....

Hannah's Movie Trailer Reviews

* Bringing Down the House: Steve Martin's newest movie since "Novocaine" (which, I think three people saw, but I hear it had a great soundtrack), which looked much better than what I'd feared. Yeah, there were some tacky prison jokes and white people trying to do the ghetto look (ouch, Steve, ouch), but the movie doesn't try to hook-up Queen Latifah with Steve, so that improves the whole concept ten degrees. (No, I don't know why I'm in degrees, pull out your chart and convert it into Kelvin, if you'd like.) (I don't know what that meant.)

* Down With Love: I discovered this movie by accident back in January, and haven't been able to wait to see it ever since. Anything that combines Ewan McGregor and Renee Zellweger (along with a non-neurotic David Hyde Pierce--I didn't know he still knew how to do that!) automatically equals fantabulous, especially when you add in the groovy costumes and scenic design. Don't you dare flub this film, 20th Century Fox!

* Anger Management: I don't know how this'll turn out. Boy these guys (Adam Sandler and Jack Nicholson) look great in the film ("in the acting sense," she says, quickly amending the statement), and whoever edited and picked the music for the trailer put together a fabulous comercial, but I probably won't see this because I'm not a big Adam Sandler person (and this definitely isn't going to have the standards of "Punch-Drunk Love," that I can see).

* Down With Love: Yeah, okay, so they showed this twice. It was okay, though, because we got to make deja vu jokes. (And, hey, anything with Ewan McGregor in it can most *definitely* show up twice.)

* View From the Top: who would really buy Gwyneth Paltrow as trailer trash? Or a bimbo flight attendant? I suppose it's always good that Candice Bergen is getting work again, and it's nice to see Mike Myers when he isn't trying to play every role in the entire flick. I guess the movie has a quirky chick flick vibe to it, but it looks a little too cheesy for even my blood.

So, there you go. Bet you're glad movie trailers don't last as long as award shows, huh? (Speaking of which....Oscar noms come out on Tuesday! Joy!)

So Help Me God, Before I Go Back in Time to Kill Dickens Myself:
any insights on Dickens's David Copperfield, especially pertaining to his views on marriage (I'm talking about Dora mainly, and how she was forced to try to fit the Victorian ideal, even though she wasn't meant for housework), would be most appreciated before I go crazy and kick my foot through Merv so I don't have to think about it anymore. Merv and I both agree this would be an unwise idea.

Send help. More posts later (if Merv's still around)

I think Debbie's sufficiently asleep by now that typing won't wake her up (not that she ever sees if I'm far enough gone before turning up the volume on the tv, but hey, whatever. I usually go to bed last, anyway.) I've spent the last half hour working on filling out valentines (and helping explain why they're "I [Heart] Mud" cards instead of whatever I normally get--something that actually fits the actual Valentine theme, I guess), and, before that, five hours "working" on my brit lit paper, which yielded a grand total of one page. Sigh. Lab show auditions are tomorrow, but I think my time'll be better spent working on homework, especially since I don't want an actual role so much as a crew something (that's my current theatrical calling, I'm sure it'll change in three weeks). Then, maybe I'll actually have time to figure out the essay questions for my history test on Thursday. Or start memorizing a monologue for Friday (I think I'm going with David Ives' "Singular Kinda Guy," but changing it to "Gal" because that's what I am. It's about a guy (now girl) who thinks they're a typewriter. Man, I love David Ives.)

I just want to survive the week (which will go too too slow) so I can reach the weekend, when I get to come home (so it will go really really fast). Not much to ask, I think.

Additional Note to World: I don't know whether I should be ecstatic or worried for humanity. I think I'll flip a coin.

Finally....actual quote from Annie, after seeing "Chicago" (which was excellent, and highly recommended by me): "Wow, now I need to go to prision!"

I'm listening to "B.J. Don't Cry," and I'm going to bed. 'Night.

"That bloke just bloody interrupted tea!": Let me just say, there's nothing like flipping through channels and discovering the episode of "Cops" when they went to London and hung out with Scotland Yard. Especially when during the first ten minutes (which is about all that I actually watched) the officers discussed tea in-depth twice. And the criminal dude kept talking about how "vexed" he was.

To quote Debbie: I wonder if the British realize how funny they are?

For some reason, I've decided to do all these technology things that could possibly draw in more visitiors just as I hit the first busy part of the semester. You may have already noticed the new counter on the sidebar (or not, it's kinda far down there), and I regret to tell you that probably half those number come from me checking to make sure that everything posts correctly. I'm trying to find a good guestbook (since hardly anyone besides Jennifer uses the comment board).

So, if I don't post anything during the next week, week and a half, just remember me and my unfortunate wealth of work. (I've still got alliteration to keep me strong)

Toodles 'til then!

Oh, And... even better than finding The Toast Quote is the fact that the very next column is where I found the word "flahoolick" and all of it's wonderfully flahoolick-ness that it's provided me through the ages. I owe you one, Amy! (and the universe for being flahoolick enough to have those back-to-back)

Bad mood ebbed with pancakes for lunch this afternoon, even though this was the same time when I learned NBC cancelled Scrubs for tonight to air a Friends repeat.

Anyway.

My good-mood-improving-thing is only increasing with the sudden discovery of the *exact* Amy K. Rosenthal that mentions the quote where my blog got it's name. Happiness and linkage!

(P.S. - let me also add that chatting about Star Wars [and Ewan McGregor specifically] on MSN last night helped my mood, also. Thanks, Matt!)

I've Got a Few Choice Words for the Planet: but I'm not gonna post them here, because I don't feel like alarming anyone right now. Am I ticked at Dickens for writing a book that was semi-interesting, yet not enough for me to find a decent topic with enough literary criticism to back up any point I would like to make? Am I peturbed by my next-door or down-one-floor or wherever neighbor that's decided to play their music *so loud* that my ears actually hurt right now (yes, I'm claiming it's that and that I didn't catch whatever Tiffani has....I like me delusions just as they are, thank you, especially when I'm this mad)? Am I even *more* mad that my glass perscription no longer seems to be doing it's job, since all my glasses seem to do anymore is give me headaches and those annoying red marks on my nose? Or how about how the people don't the hall WON'T SHUT UP, even though it's WAY after quiet hours, but I don't feel like going and yelling at them because I'll probably end up taking out my anger on one of them and killing her as an example to the rest? Or that all my tests are aiming for the same confounded *day,* so I won't even have time to breathe next week?

All of the above, you say? Surely not! Well, kiddies, that's where I bloody am at the point, and this foul mood feels like spreading. Who wants some anti-cheer?

About the before mentioned post.....here's me:

Which Sesame Street Muppet Are You?

Ta da.

Ouch. Piece of advice to anyone.....no matter how good an idea it seems at the time, never carry a vacuum cleaner up four flights of stairs on your back so you can "avoid picking it up," or however else I justified it to myself at the time. Especially, when you have "exploring your movements" day in acting class the next morning.

Somebody shoot me now, and end my agony. (Or take a quiz, whatever.)

Hey, Look! I've [finally] gone back and fixed glitches in the system.....that occurred in October. Geez, I need something else to do.

I'm going to check on my laundry now because it makes me feel more productive. Toodles.

Confound you, groundhog, you harbringer of winter weather! It was actually warm warm! here in Kirksville and I thought perhaps we'd finished winter early this year. But you couldn't have that, could you? You couldn't let the sunshine interfere with your nefarious weather plans, huh? You just had to go out there and see your shadow and wreck February for everybody else, didn't you? It doesn't matter to *you* what the weather is, you just get to crawl back into your happy hole and hibernate for another month and step into the green grass of March. Why would you care that you doomed us to winter? Why should you care that the weather listened to you and reverted back to December? What could possibly make you care that the weather listened so closely it went from 60 degrees yesterday to an inch of snow today? Huh? HUH? Are you listening to me, you stupid rodent? Of course not, you're all bundled up back in the ground, in your silly little hut they make you live in. Are you warm in there, Phil? Would you mind if I filled your happy warm world with snow.....because I'm a little ticked that you did the same to mine!

Stupid rodent.

Whenever someone asks me what my favorite holiday is, I generally tell them Groundhog's Day just to be contrary. I love this holiday for the pure reason that I don't understand it. Why are we asking a groundhog? I mean, sure, he's no worse than a regular weatherman, but why isn't this an equal-rodent-opportunity job? I could see a Vole Day or Hamster Day or Otter Day. And, supposing we ignore the fact that we're leaving it to an animal to predict the weather, shouldn't the signs be different? I mean, to see *my* shadow, the sun would have to be out, and doesn't early sunshine say "spring" to you? I'm totally not seeing where we decided dull gray skies meant spring was hopping along early.

Anyway. This feels kinda silly now, so I'll stop ranting at you people (this idea sounded so good in my head, I swear!) As a peace offering, I give you this. We'll call it my early valentine to all you people who won't be the lucky receipients of my 89 cent "I [Heart] Mud" valentines from Wal-Mart. Isn't it adorable?

Font still huge. Starting to feel resigned to fate. *Sigh.*

That's enough blatant ignoring of English rules for one day.

Yesterday's sing-along was.....interesting. I truly had no idea what I was getting into, but quickly figured it out when the guys burst into both song and dance (and this was just "Les Poisones" [the crazy chef's song] from Little Mermaid). I picked it up fast enough for a rousing rendition of Elephant Love Medley from Moulin Rouge, and went from there. Later on, I was introduced to Randy Newman's Faust (a favorite of Ben's, who none of you people know) (if you do, let me know and I'll apologize) and now can't get Bonnie Raitt singing "Feels Like Home" out of my head, even though I can't find a complete version of the song that *isn't* from the Dawson's Creek soundtrack. Bleck.

I have 63 pages to go in David Copperfield. I'm happy that it's almost over (although we've gotten a quicker pace in the last thirty pages, so now I'm kinda getting into it), but I'm not looking forward to actually writing a paper over it. Or preparing for the class discussion. Or any other number of non-Brit Lit related things I have to do within the next two weeks.

Welcome to Spring Semester, Hannah Elizabeth!

Merv is still on the fritz (another good word), so I've taken shelter in the downstairs computer lab. I've just spent way too long in the foreign language lab having Spanish people talk really fast to me through headphones while trying to scribble down answers to questions in my workbook. I'm thankful that both (A) I didn't listen to them too hard, as I was busy singing "Psycho Killer" (not the original version I heard on the radio this morning, but the Moxy Fruvous cover that has more pep) in my head and (B) the answers are in the back of the book, so it doesn't matter completely. Until the test. Oh well. Before that I woke up way too early, fell back asleep reading Dickens [yes, still....but I've got about 150 pages to go, so I'm allowing myself a breather], woke up again when Debbie's brother called, went to lunch, talked about stretching fingers beyond their natural length to play big chords on musical instruments, came back and discovered Debbie was *still* on the phone, turned on the news and saw the Columbia thing on CNN, almost cried when they started talking about the families of the astronauts, said a prayer, and decided I need distration. Hence the language lab.

I'm starting to think today won't measure up to yesterday's grand wonderfulness. I don't know what heaped all the happiness probably alotted for this weekend into one day, but at least it was wonderful while it lasted. Not only did we talk about college advice for over half of calculus, we played games all during acting and tic tac toe in Spanish. Then, I was invited to hang out with some of the guys from my acting class who love to hold movie musical sing-alongs (I mentioned how my mom likes to burst into song at weird moments and how I've picked up that same quirk) and were happy to find a new female voice (one of them--Matt--was happy that he wouldn't have to sing all the female parts for Moulin Rouge anymore). The actual meeting time was moved to today, so I'll let you know how it goes, but I think I've interested a couple other people if I have a good time. I also went shopping yesterday because I found out Hastings had a sale that included a new[-ish? I don't know when it came out] Calvin and Hobbes book featuring all the Sunday strips. I bought two copies (so somebody's getting lucky), along with three cassette tapes (B-52s "Good Stuff," Susanna Hoff (of the Bangles) solo album, and [I am dead serious] "Pop Songs of the 1930s") for a buck. They're now hanging out with my $3 "Sounds of Paradise" tape, (featuring wind, water, and calypso drums) where I can laugh at them all together.

Why yes, I spend my money wisely, don't you?

I think I'm going to read some more Dickens before I go sing. Or maybe some Sluggy......