Conflicting Lists

Things that Make me Happy Right Now

*my [evil-ish] Brit Lit paper is almost done

*the opening of "Evil Ways," when my surround sound headphones make it sound like the percussion is dancing from one side of my head to the other

*my page-a-day calendar, which today features a picture of a Chinese paper cut design of a radish

Things that Make me Feel Contrite Right Now

*I don't have a title for the [evil-ish] Brit Lit paper

*I still have a test in Brit Lit tomorrow

*the knowledge that, if I hadn't lost my motivation to finish my paper, I could've been done two days ago

Not one to jinx it or anything...

....but I have a callback tonight! Yay! (May this joy not make me hate myself tomorrow.)

Oh, and I just saw a dead squirrel. Do you think that's a bad omen?

If my mother's reading this...

which I'm sure she's not, but just in case: ECC is sending me the registration stuff (it goes out in the mail today) and Wal-Mart wants me to call them back in four weeks with an exact start date (which sounds like I'm back in and my discount card use will no longer be semi-illegal. I should go make a purchase now to celebrate.)

On the phone pt. 2

Wal-Mart's hold line plays cheesy eighties-ish stuff. But not the good kind.

AHH! And *actual* commercials! Can't anyone just play bad muzak anymore?

On the phone

ECC has really cheesy classical music for you to listen to while you're on hold. (And annoying "commercials" about the alumni association.)

If you care...

(and as I stall from my paper a little more), notice the new "Hey, look! Hannah feels... [whatever]" notice on the right sidebar (below the email link and above the guestbook). I've finally found another way to waste time (besides playing Diamond Mine): constantly updating my emotions so the entire world can keep track. Just another way to force you to check my site more often.

You're welcome, I'm sure.

~evil thoughts toward brit lit~

What's a noun that means the same thing as "outwit" (which is clearly a verb, and therefore not letting me finish my parallel wording--yes, I'm seriously obsessing over this)? Help!

Leaving it at this...

I'll let this sum up my pizza-eating experience. Ta da.

Ballet is Funny

...or at least it is when I use it for my one-act audition monologue (yes, I know last we left me I was going to do a valley girl thing. Tough, y'all.) I got a resounding end laugh from all the judges, so that's a good sign. Now I just have to wait until callbacks are listed tomorrow...

Off to eat pizza. And watch movies. And avoid Brit Lit like the plauge itself. (Ah, college life.)

If *you're* my weatherman...

You better confounded get rid of the razen-frazen snow! This isn't funny anymore!

Refrigerator Poetry

In an effort to *further* put off my Brit Lit paper, I actually put all my mother's "I [Heart] Reading" word magnets into sentences. Here we are now, my 'Fridge Poetry debut:

* The magazine novel is a love mystery about fun ideas and good answers

* Look! Super smart story that inspired library internet reading

* We see you do it

* Yes...books facts are what they think

* I find web time

* Thoughts?

And check out the comments...

www.haikooties.com

Good stuff.

Furniture Update (and then some):

(Because you're all *so* concerned, I'm sure.)

The fridge is on the complete opposite side, my bed is more centered (though still against the wall), and I'll probably never be able to get into my wardrobe when the front door is propped open, but I'm no longer completely surrounded by Rubbermaid containers, so I love it. And, somehow, my bookshelf came out more organized than when I started, and I'm still not certain how I managed that one.

Completely unrelated, but....I just looked out my window and it's confounded SNOWING! What's *wrong* with Missouri weather?!?

This just in:

I'm not completely hopeless! Yay!

"Goodnight Wisconsin!"

There's nothing under my bed anymore except for Merv on the desk. It's time to turn him off and move right along (not that I know exactly what I'm doing (and I'll probably throw out my back), but, hey, that's why I'm doing this Friday night and not Monday night).

See y'all on the other side of the room.

Naturally, nothing's on

Debbie's in Illinois for the weekend, leaving me the potential of spending the entire time watching what *I* want to watch for once. Of course, this is also the weekend with one-act auditions, a Brit Lit test on Tuesday (and paper due asap), and me feeling an urge to re-arrange the furniture. (At least Debbie gave me the okay before she left to move whatever I wanted, including her stuff. I have power, y'all.)

So, should I go with bunkbeds or just move desks?

A Piece of Advice, from Me to You:

When you're shorter and younger-looking than the rest of your age group, it's not a good idea to wear a high school shirt on the same day your college campus hosts the district high school music contest. *Especially* if you spend most of your time in the fine arts building.

Live and learn from my mistakes, y'all.

Opie!

I swear, there's seriously someone whistling the "Andy Griffith" theme outside in the Dobson courtyard right at this moment.

I love college life.

No people like show people

Ushering tonight led to an impromptu sing-along of "Fly Me to the Moon" with the other volunteers, Matt and John. John started, I added some snaps and then backup, and then Matt walked in and we turned into a whole jazz ensemble. It's moments like that when I feel especially comfortable with the theatre thing, and--thankfully--those moments happen alot.

Thank you, Leadership, for ending.

This evening, in order to celebrate the ending of Leadership class (and thus an extra two hours when Debbie's not here), I was planning to watch something off my computer. Instead, in a moment of true surrealness, I opened my dorm door two hours ago to have Troy (yes, *that* Troy) standing there. Apparently, he picked spring break to pop up and visit all of TSU (including myself). We mocked the Crocodile Hunter, tried to [literally] climb the walls with Lindsey and Cathy from across the hall, and ran up and down the entire fourth floor. Good stuff. (And now I can hang it over his head for the longest time that he dropped me on the concrete floor. On my *head.* I sense bribery!)

Currently watching the Oscar tape...

Oh, Good Lord, if I hadn't been crying like a baby after the first standing ovation, the second one would've done me in. Adrien Brody, you're stronger than I am. (Note to self: must see The Pianist more than ever.)

Naturally...

Of *course* they'll declare "The return of the ‘Curly Girl’" on the exact same day my hair turns itself straight. Thank you, MSN for filling me in on my fashion faux pas

Analysis of a Line

Your roommate--who hardly ever has the television off when she's in the room--has just asked you if you'd mind turning off your tape of the Oscars because the "one show [she] watches on weekdays" starts in a few minutes.

Objective: to avoid conflict

Inner monologue: Only show you watch on weekdays?! Don't you get ticked when I want to watch something when MacGyver is on? Don't you always watch X-Files at four...whether I'm trying to do homework on not? And what about that Stargate marathon that's always on the screen Monday evenings? I paraphrase Faith Prince, "Debbie, this is the biggest lie you've EVER told me!"

Line: "Okay."

An Announcement

My hair has never before been so unbelievably straight. That cute curly-under thing it normally does? *Completely* gone right now. It's still doing the make-Hannah-happy bouncy thing, just like yesterday, so I'm loving it. It's just a little odd that it decided to straighten itself out overnight.

Ooh! Ooh! Lookie!

New links. Check 'em out.

It all comes down to this...

This may seem too much when after the previous post, but I've never felt so radiantly fabulous in my life. I've got confidence spewing out of my pores from the successful acting class, the weather out is just breezy enough that it counter-balances the warm air, I just got awarded the "Happy Spider Award of Valor" for helping a friend figure out part of his schedule, and (between my new glasses and my suddenly perfect hair) I haven't felt so gorgeous since senior basketball homecoming. Tomorrow may suck compared to today, but at least I've had today and the complete splendiferousness.

Man, what I wouldn't do for more days like this in my life.

Making out is good for the soul

Or, at least, when your acting scene (that you've spent nearly a month working on and also caused you to both lose your breakfast and distract you during your calculus test this morning) that involved making-out impresses the entire confounded class, it adds a certain air of fantabulousness that lasts for the rest of the day. (I *hope* this feeling lasts the rest of the day, at least.)

God bless acting class and God bless John Weeks, who had the idea for the scene in the first place!

How was *your* Sunday morning?

Remember that "very special" Mad About You episode (after the show went downhill in the last few seasons) where Paul and Jaime spent their entire uninturrupted half-hour time slot listening to Mabel cry as they "trained" themselves not to pick her up? Remember what an awful waste of time (both on their and the viewers parts) it was to listen to a baby cry for an entire half-hour? My aunt must have been aiming to recreate that particular show as my baby cousin Max had to nearly knock-over his play mobile before anyone paid attention to his twenty minute plus sobfest.

At least my family's funnier than anything Paul Reiser and Hellen Hunt managed that last season, and the portion who had a luau/theater themed elope reception wasn't even there at the time.

"Di, I'm outtie."

I'm outta here for the weekend, y'alls. I'll see you Sunday night (maybe we'll go for another awards show post a la my Golden Globes monstrosity.)

[Okay, so *technically* I'm not leaving until tomorrow morning...But, 'cmon, I've got stuff to do tonight (Young Frankenstein at 8!), and there's no way I'm turning on Merv tomorrow morning just to say goodbye when I can do so just as effectively on this side of Saturday.]

A Suggestion

I'm sure you gave it lots of thought, but--the next time you decide to stage a march through campus while chanting loudly and playing drums like you're a living "Spirit of 1776"--the public might be more receptive to your plea for peace if you do this after eight a.m. (Though the multitude of "shut up"s [in oh, so many different forms] were quite entertaining.)

Prom Tip #2:

Just for you, Sam, here's a quick summary of what Nancy calls "Cluin' in a Clueless Dude:"
*have a mutual friend do the talking (slightly above "check yes or no" notes, slightly below actually developing confidence)
*"give him a call" about a trivial subject and hope that it somehow magically tells him to ask you

Those help? (Of course not, you're not twelve years old.) My personal suggestion? Use every ounce of confidence and personality that I *know* you possess, and ask him [whoever you've narrowed down to finally]. Let me know what happens.

Find me a koala!

Mitch Hedberg's coming on April 9! I need tickets now. (Or, maybe tomorrow. I could wait until then.)

We can *pretend* I posted this last night...

I'm going to blame Hope for the delay out of sheer convenience--after all, she IS the one who introduced me to Yahoo's Diamond Mine game, and therefore responsible for the fact that I played it for two hours last night. Anyway, last week was fantabulous, and not just because I was on break. (Although, I suppose it *is* because of break, because that's why I was home. Wow, I just used the word "because" way too much.) Here, with a mini-(and not so mini) recap, I give you:

Hannah's Wed-Sun

*Wednesday: Okay, so it was more like Thursday. But. I fell asleep around 10 (I guess that's how it applies to Wed), and naturally, I woke up in the middle of the night later on. That doesn't explain why, at 2:33 in the morning, I suddenly woke up with no other option but to watch the new television version of "The Music Man." (I'd started it when it originally came on back in February, but that was before I realized it was a three hour show....hey, at least I got my acting paper done.) And, naturally, once I realized Mom taped the Letterman episode with Dr. Phil on the same tape, I had to watch that, too. And, naturally, I hated myself at 6 the next morning when I got up to drive mom to school.

*Thursday: Jennifer organized a bowling thing that afternoon, which involved much eating of Bottle Caps, me showing off how lousy I am at pool, and hitting people with an empty plastic bottle (when we weren't chasing people around like six-year-olds, of course). There *was* bowling, naturally, and I almost didn't lose twice (though that was thwarted by Jennifer both times) though I lost spectacularly the second game. It's not much, but I did discover, when I crazy bowl, I can aim straighter than Claire and Jennifer (sometimes).

*Friday/Saturday: Graded papers at Strain-Japan (where I discovered that one of the teachers there is related to Tiffani--you know, the crazy girl who's blog link is on the right [not that she's posted for a couple months now]), went shopping for about three hours with the Slabys (where I got to pay for groceries because Alfi left her purse back at school), and spent the night at Hope's house (where I gained so many in-jokes between Sam, Hope and myself, that I couldn't begin to name them). I don't think I could go into all the details from the night (some of the will remain between the four--yes, four--of us), but we were pretty out of it by 2:30 a.m., which is about when we finally turned in. About four hours later, when we had to wake up to get ready for the Conference Scholar Bowl meet in Owensville, nobody was happy. As for the meet: two of the people who normally play varsity were bumped down to JV (and proceeded to be undefeated the entire meet), and V was very happy to win their first match. We won't talk about the rest of the day. And, if Adam Culp tries to blame any of you for breaking his watch, just ignore him--it was all my fault (although I am the one who told him to blame it on other people; a new business endeavor for him, and a way to get me off the hook). If he hadn't stolen my jelly beans (Starburst tropical flavors and everything!), I wouldn't have had a reason to kick him.

*Sunday: In the longest possible amount of time to get me back to Truman (we left 8:30 that morning and didn't arrive until after six that night), I finally saw Caleb's dorm room and "meet" Tyler, his roommate. The meet's in quotation marks, because it was in the middle of the Mizzou game, and I don't know if I even registered in his brain, as he was too busy yelling at the Tigers. There's nothing that can perk me up better than sports fanatics yelling at their team.

There y'all go. Impressed? Jennifer--got anything to add to the bowling? Y'all know where to find me.

Introducing...Hannah's Prom Tips

While browsing at Hastings yesterday afternoon, I discovered a $4 special on a book called PROM! The Complete Guide to a Truly Spectacular Night. With as swirly as the cover font was, I couldn't help but purchase it. (That, and I knew a book that featured "Carrie" as a pre-prom movie was ripe for mocking.)

So, for the next month or so, I feel like doling out random bits of "helpful information" from the pages of Nancy Krulik's ever-so-helpful book. (And, Nancy, if you ever find this, I'm just kidding and in no way am I getting paid for this...please, dear Lord, don't sue me.)

#1: Nancy Says, "Tell him that you're willing to pay for the prom...[t]here's always a good chance that he'll want to pick up the whole tab."
Hannah Says, "Act like you really want to help, thereby concealing your true motive to get out of the bill. Classy."

Just sharing...

From : Jennifer
To : Hannah
Subject : Why I think life is like toast.

You have this nice peice of toast. Then you aren't careful with it and it crumbles into a thousand peices right before your eyes and the next thing you know, you're throwing yourself onto the floor and kicking your legs and flailing your arms and screaming because you just ruined you're whole peice of toast and that really ticks you off and now your life is over and you have no idea what you're going to do with yourself from here on out because how on Earth can you go on? Then you realize that it's just a freaking peice of toast and you get over it and make a new peice. This reminds me of life and it's cycles.

-------There's a reason why I love Jennifer so much.

*Bweep! Bweep!*

Just a warning to y'all, but, once I finally stop having to blink five times every second (Hope and Sam can testify to the magnifigant lack of sleep I received this weekend), I'll update on everything that's happened since Tuesday. To give you a quick sample, though, here's a few quotes that were probably funniest because of the extremely late hour (or, morning-after exhaustion) when they were said:

"Wow, that's a huge hunk of butter!"

"Quick, I've got cramps....I need a big sweaty guy!"

"Hope's got a tail!" ("Followed by: You could probably breath better if you weren't holding a cat.")

"Always make sure you clarify things, or people might think you make-out with Hope."

"I hope you hear the screams of watches in your dreams."

"It's nuclear reactor Barbie!"

And it was sunny today, too!

Beautifimous day.....I bought an adorable purse that is much too small for all my last purse carried and some tacky bracelets that I probably would've seen as hot stuff back when I was, oh, six or seven. I also jetted all around town in the moose-mobile, re-broke in an old pair of flip-flops, and garnered all sorts of new email addresses when I visited school for a few hours.

Low point of the day: having blood spontaneously gush from my nose, although I was merely sitting on the couch, reading old msn messages and listening to the Chicago soundtrack (although the fact that I've had to re-type this post three different times now is starting to climb the list).

High point of the day: mocking American Idol. Speaking of which, does Paula Abdul dance when *all* the contestants sing, or just the male ones? How desperate for a date are you, Ms. Abdul?

Testing....

DUDE! God bless my wonderful, splendiferious brother!

Should I get contacts? Yes, it's *way* short notice (my appointment's tomorrow morning at 8:30), but any thoughts/opinions would be appreciated. Granted, it's not like most of you in the internet world know what I look like, AND I don't think most of my friends actually read this (sad face here, please), but I'm still posting it.

Thoughts?

Not doing much. I tried cleaning my room (as in, down-and-out, full-out re-organization), but I think I've worn that out by now (it's about time). I keep falling asleep on the couch, which makes me miss my happy on-the-ground bed even more. The best part of "My Cousin Vinnie" is all the different ways the writers came up with to wake Vinnie up each night. Classic.

Leaving...but there's no jet involved: I'm outta here, y'all [it's back!]....here's to a week of lounging around, few blog posts, and too much Tess d'Urbervilles.

Just FYI: There is no more screwed-up theatre game in the entire universe than "Psychiatrist."

If it were this time tomorrow...: The only thing standing between myself and spring break is a Spanish midterm at 2:30 tomorrow afternoon. It shouldn't be too bad--the professor actually showed up to our tutoring/last-ditch-studying thing, so the three of us who came know exactly what's on the test--but if I didn't have it, I could've left at 9:30 instead of 5:30. I'm sure even non-math people can see the distinct advantage.

At least I'll get to enjoy game day in acting. For a moment, we almost talked Becky into letting us bring in Dance Dance Revolution, which would've been great.

The "I Should Be Doing Brit Lit" Post: but, with quotes like these, who wants to do homework?

Something that Debbie actually left on my desk, which annoyed me until I read it: "Here's to you and here's to me. I pray that friends we'll always be. But if by chance we disagree, to hell with you and here's to me."

From Leadership Class: "Why be difficult when you can manage impossible?"

And, off the wall outside my calc professor's neighbor's door: "There were no dragons left to slay; they'd become endangered. There were no damsels left to rescue as they'd all turned into feminists. Chivalry was dead. His suit of armor was a tad too tight. It was clear to Arthur he was experiencing a middle ages crisis."

I Should've Known When I Saw the Hat: Okay, greatest Spanish class ever. Unfortunetly (for my professor, who's a very sweet, funny lady), it's also one of those kooky sub stories. Since the sub didn't know what to do with us (going over worksheets and passing out the test review took all of ten minutes), he decided to do "something my regular class enjoys." So, I've had "La Cucharacha" stuck in my head ever since because he taught us the "proper" way to sing it. There's nothing funnier than a man in a Russian-style fur hat, singing about a cockroach with a Spanish accent, while yelling at the guys to "sing more grr...you know what I mean."

From the Desk of a Very Single Girl: (totally stolen off the door of someone down the hall)
Why Guys are Evil
(Mathematical Proof)
Guys = Time x Money
Time = Money, meaning
Guys = Money x Money or
Guys = Money squared
Money = square root of Evil [root of all evil], so
Guys = sqr root Evil or
Guys = Evil

I'm just saying...: If this is what March looks like in Kirksville, I'll take February back. At least then I was *expecting* sleet and snow and generally ooki-ness. Speaking of which...

* Walking up a flight of stairs: easy
* Walking into the wind: generally okay
* Walking on slush: needs balance, but still fine
* Combining all three: Good God, have mercy

I suppose now I have to update my saying of "it's finally warm enough to snow again" to also include sleet, as it bombarded my head all the way back from OP where I had the shortest acting practice not involving food ever. I should probably type up my half of the production right now, but I feel more like checking email and blogs. I'm never motivated when I'm in the computer lab, which is sad, because there's no Spider Solitaire down here.

News Flash #1: For the time being, at least, it seems "dude" and variations is replacing my ordinary "y'all." Feel free to rejoice, Jennifer, I'm sure it'll be back in time for spring break.

News Flash #2: Fot the first time ever I literally have no more room to write anything else on my hand. Normally I can scrawl out something in tiny print on my fingers, but that just won't happen today after I amused myself in Brit Lit by *not* paying attention. (News Flash #3 hopefully won't be that I failed my next Brit Lit test.)

Finally, it's articles like this that make me feel even more single than before (of course, there's a person down the hall with mathematical proof that guys are evil, so I'm probably better off anyway. I'd post the proof on here, but I can't make all the proper math symbol things. Sorry.)

It's looking like I'll never have time to do the grand breakdown of my entire "24 Hour Theatre" experience from this weekend (y'all might actually prefer things that way, because I was going to do it by time incriments, etc, and it probably would've ended up like my Golden Globes thing). The big accomplishment from the whole thing: the great amounts of knowledge I've gained. And, I'm not just talking about the calling cues and whatnot. My greatest new skill is restraining myself from doing serious bodily harm (as in, down-and-out clawing, kicking, and screaming) to the person talking to me even though I seriously could not care less about their pre-show music preferences. While I'm hoping it never comes in handy, you never know.

Um....other stuff....

I still haven't completely recovered from my lack of sleep, as I keep falling asleep at odd times (although most of them involve trying to do exceptionally boring homework). All that syrup on my waffles at supper probably didn't help, either (as it hiked up my sugar level for about five minutes before ker-plunking back down), nor did practicing my open scene (where I play a super hero [The Flying Buttress, if you're interested] arguing with another super hero [the yet-to-be-named Ben] over who gets to resuce someone and ending up in a huge fight which kills the poor victim.) and the new action sequence.

So, I *should* type up our scene score (all the objectives, setting, characters, etc), but I think I'm going to bed instead. Especially since my next door neighbor just turned up the bass on their stereo. Thanks, Sarah.

I Know You're Out There: Caleb, were you still planning on writing me a monologue for the One-Act auditions? Because you can probably put it off.....I think I'm going to pull Valley Girl out and be "Totally, like, Bubbalicious!"

(And, in a moment of the universe popping up coincidences, the person who just sat down two computers away from me has on a very bright pink feather boa. No, I don't know why, and I'm surely not going to ask.)

*** Just an additional note: I don't know why the comment board refuses to work for this post now (maybe it's just Merv), but I'd love it if whatever wonderfully amazing comment was posted there would be emailed to me in the mean time (especially if it was my darling brother, who doesn't have the time to mess with such things).

Well, I survived.

I'm going to keep this short because, while I don't feel sleepy anymore (that would be from "get down to work"-ness), my typing and backtracking is providing ample truth that the mere not-quite-three hours of sleep I've gotten since waking up at 7 on Friday morning isn't cutting it anymore.

Things went swell. I only majorly screwed up once (I was giving cues for sound and lights), but it involved an extra music cue that I didn't realize existed until an hour before the show. Interesting sidenote: I suddenly cuss alot more when I mess up a theatre thing than anything else in the universe.

I'll give y'all the blow-by-blow (or something like that) eventually....maybe if I try reading Hardy, that'll put me out.