I want to stop answering the phone

"Yeah, my name's on a waiting list for tonight, and I was just wondering if I'd gotten a ticket yet?"

Some people are annoying. Some people are cup people.


(Yes, I realize it's not a completely accurate comparisson, but still...)

"Okay....okay...uh-huh..."

I just got griped at by someone who didn't get to buy a ticket for Cabaret due to totally sold-out-ness, who felt that reserves were unfair because "what's to stop somebody from saying 'I'd like fifteen seats together, and I'll pay for them in two weeks?'" I tried to explain that we don't let people do such things because most reserves are for people we know who only wanted two seats, and we've still be calling people to remind them to pay and whatnot, but he just seemed to think it was completely unfair for people to reserve a seat for their parents two weeks in advance.

He was promptly followed by someone picking up her reserved seats, who made me feel better about life, as she was giddy that she'd had the foresight to do so last Thursday. Ah, balance.

A sure way to snark me for most of the morning: when you tell me "sorry," make sure to say in a tone that implies not only are you not sorry, but you actually think I had it coming and I'm also ugly.

Anyway.

So, after a rough start to the morning from trying to get someone at the Muny and running into the above, I ran into some snow (which is always a perk) and the best perk of all: a completely sold-out week worth of show. Yes, all week. Yes, there's now a waiting list. It's going to be interesting selling tickets tonight, since I'll have all the nice people who have reserved and all the late people who are hoping the reserve people don't show up. It'll be spiffy.

Plus, we gave someone a theme song [not me, sadly] at lunch and proceeded to sing snippets every time someone talked to him, which is always a great way to do anything.

I'll never tell you what I do on Saturday*

But I'll aparently show you what happens on Sunday.


Melissa's new hair, as of this afternoon (thanks, Locks for Love!)...though I could also hit you up with links to pics of my foot, etc, or an amusing little video that takes too long to download for the 13 seconds of fun. 


*also, we all know from the past that this claim is totally not true.

MSN Name: *Hannah's* life is a cabaret, old chum

I'm in the box office, which is basically normal (I believe my voicemail directs people to call for me here before searching elsewhere), except that an actual run is going on over behind that door to the left. From what I can hear, we're up to the signature/title/most famous song; a plus, as then I leave and then I can finally get that lunch thing I adore so much.

Anyway, the show's been going well (I watched the first half, but I needed to do some email stuff...thus now) and we haven't had any major catastrophes. I did get to give away some reserved seats, but that's not big. I also helped someone find his hat, and that was fun.

My big beef is that I don't know what to do most of the time. I mean, I have a general idea of what's going on, but I don't know if I'm supposed to make ushers stay, count up the house [we're sold out plus two today, for the record], or stalk around and make sure there are no more donut ladies. Everyone seems to think that I'm staying through the entire show, each night, full stop, but I know most of them also know that I'm working ASM on the lab show. I can't be in both places at once, yet there's stuff I get to do after intermission, and I have to stay about two scenes in at the beginning by the time I finish basic duties.

Sigh. Anyway, Sally's about to finish her big number, and I should try to send that email again.

Because I might as well do it before I forget something and/or Merv eats it (like the past two weeks...did you know I was in a car accident two weeks ago?)

The Weekend-So-Far in Bullets, Because the Title Was Already Long:

* Who's starting her weekend Friday afternoon in the box office, calling slackers who haven't picked up their tickets yet? Oh, that would be Ms. Hannah Moneypenny, my inner secretary.

* Facebook is evil. And addictive. Confound it for both! (And then let me join a few more groups...)

* The Notebook is just as sad the second time around, even if you aren't sticking yourself in a mini personal "crisis" (if that) while watching.

* What did I do on my first night off from a theatre practice in a week? Go to someone else's rehearsal, of course!

* Need people to fold programs? Talk to me, and I'll hook you up with half a dozen ushers who thought they were just staying to watch "Cabaret" for free and instead got to fold about a thousand programs for the coming week of shows.

* Also, thank you theatre practice for granting me another banterer on the usher list, so I never get bored while we're standing around or trying to be productive or whatnot.

* The next time I tell myself that of course I won't fall asleep, I'm on the floor, please someone remind me that--given the right level of exhaustion--that doesn't make a difference.

* Accounting first thing in the morning isn't heinous as long as it makes sense and doesn't make me feel stupid in any manner.

* My ushers like it when you bring them food. This is perhaps the best way to make friends, short of paying $250+ for a sorority membership, and it also helps you cut down your meal plans.

* Who's the house manager chick who goes from asking the jazz fest people to check their volume in the lobby to fake insulting an usher to asking a patron to take her coffee and donuts outside the theatre to "flirting" with a Kit Kat Klub boy? The same girl who tripped over air during intermission.

* Apparently a camel trumps a moose, but Johnny Depp riding a moose trumps a regular camel. This really requires no thought.

* New fun game: enter Hannah's room [while Melissa's asleep or just not there] and wait to see how long it takes before she notices your there over the volume pumping through her headphones. Hours of enjoyment!

* Oil pastels taste gross, though in my defense, I forgot it was on my fingers.

* I'm wearing the sequined cat ears and listening to "Moulin Rouge," so it must be a good Saturday.

Overnight guests rock my socks off

There's a sleeping Tiffani on my floor.

Plus, they have really squishy chairs!

For all those interested, a Wal-Mart vision center eye exam costs between $70-$90 (probably before insurance, since I didn't ask), and then they'll fit me with a trial pair that would probably last me the length of make-up class.

Thoughts?

She's had some sleep

Melissa: I don't know if I'm going to go work out, I may just stand here and look at the pretties.

Melissa, to the snow: Don't keep falling, you'll just die at the bottom!

Tour in an Hour

I just looked out the window, and it's pouring down with fluffy snowflakes that will be fun to walk through, unless you're from out of town and didn't expect such things.

Never more to roam

Merv, my darling, is back once more on my desk (though he's now more "hard drive on mini-desk, monitor on big person desk" since I grew addicted to all the space), filled with all manner of free spyware deleting gizmos from the ITS people, that I may actually have to thank them for a job well done [for once].

Unfortunately, those same programs keep popping up to warn me that I changed my own start page [freshman year] and did I really mean it check yes or no. Also, I'm now no longer used to my insert-home-page up-delete-end-page down keys, since the ones downstairs are turned sideways (two columns of three) and I finally stopped deleting things when I meant to go to the end.

I sadly have no time to mess with Merv tonight (beyond the possible cranking of some tunes), but it's nice just having him around, purring while the Microsoft AnitSpyware continues to search my hard drive because "oh, golly, you use the internet? What are you trying to do: poison me?!"

Baby Mine

Two seconds after I finish this, I'm going back upstairs to take my baby computer over to McClain and the [hopefully] helpful people at the ITS desk. I'm not especially happy about this (even more so because apparently if I had any computer knowledge, I could fix it myself), but then I won't have to clog the computer lab quite so much and I might stop playing pinball so often.

It's not quite one yet and I already feel a bit overstretched for the day (I forgot to print out a paper for class and had to run around and find a free computer; Melissa's been stressed over a collection of projects, papers, and presentations; I'm supposed to ASM the lab show now, but it may actually conflict with house managing Cabaret and I never remember until after I signed the cast/crew list; etc.), so I'll probably treat myself to unhealthy food on my way back from leaving Merv in other people's hands. I know that I'll have to deal with that play left to read and JINS homework to jingle out and a general need to chill out and stop using phrases like "jingle out," but I'm hoping that at least Merv will soon come home.

My JINS class is in a computer lab today.

So, I need to suck it up and take Merv to ITS for a computer exorcism, because I don't know what's wrong with him anymore. I have things I need to type tonight (box office was too busy), but then there's really no reason....except that it'll be the weekend and ITS isn't open then. So, I actually probably be without internet until Monday, without computer through Wednesday (hopefully not longer), and then perhaps my life will continue back to normal.

No, I'm still not back online.

When you're in a hurry, there are few things better than the ability to type quickly and with supreme accuracy. Especially when going for adjectives like "supreme."

Just so you know

My internet has gone completely screwy, so I don't know when I'll post again, let alone when I'll find the time to redo my Weekend in Bullets Returns post from last night that was eaten as a midnight snack by Merv. Have a good month everyone, it might take that long.

The boys are missing out this V-Day

Three reasons:

* I'm apparently partial to lists right now, and I'm sure many other sophisticated ladies were in the past.

* I'm listening to Beethoven and Billie Holiday while eating my extra-butter popcon, a certain way to class up snack food.

* I've been typing one-handed all along, and no major slips yet.

Hannah is...

* upset that her stomach is gurgly, even though she totally keeps eating food

* listening to Billy Joel ("Only the Good Die Young," her 20th birthday song)

* impressed with her new archive feature that she noticed while linking

* avoiding Tuesday's homework because tomorrow is Monday

* stylish with her hair pulled back by a clothespin

* high off brownies, especially after accidentally snorting powdered sugar up her nose

* apparently date-able, as she might've been asked out this evening

* balancing a hot pillow filled with feed corn (really) on her sore neck

* about to continue deleting things off her overly-stuffed Merv

"To tell your representatives..."

I love it when my phone card goes all political, except that I have to sit through it before it will dial.

Cracking the book open for the first time

Whoever owned and wrote all over my marketing book prior to myself had handwriting just like my mother.

"It'd be nice if I could actually see them, though"

Somewhere around week seven in make-up class, I'm going to finally be fed up enough with trying to do everything blurry, that I'll bike* to the Wal-Mart vision center and buy contacts.


*Hopefully, this will be in March by then, otherwise I might freeze on the way over.

(I should be studying Accounting right now, but instead I'm about to eat some cold chicken tenders.)

First song in my head this morning: Wilco's "My Darling," with the prophetic (or not) first line "Go back to sleep now/my darling." If I didn't have a test in about fifteen minutes, I'd probably obey.

Watching "Gilmore Girls"

ME: Hey, let's grow up and turn into Sookie and Lorelai! I call dibs on marrying the vegetable man.
MELISSA: [laughs hysterically] But I don't want to get pregnant before I graduate!
ME: Hey, you've already passed sixteen; you'll just be the cool Lorelai.
MELISSA: Okay then.

Continuity, or How Do I Remember All This?

Following in the apparent tradition of last Sunday, when I had that great dream about being engaged to Johnny Depp and had that diamond ring that could've flattened small mammals (not that I posted about it, though that would've been a great place to link if I had), last night I dreamed myself into what could be described as "The Bourne Identity, 3.0."

The gist of what I remember is that I knew he was someone named Jason Bourne, but Matt Damon totally hadn't told me about all the running, chasing, killing, etc attached to the name. There was a great reveal scene where he was telling me about his life and how dangerous it was for me to be dating him.

Sample dialogue: "You should get out of here now, while they still don't know about you. I don't want to wait until they kill us both at 3 a.m. some morning!"
"Then they'll kill us at 3 a.m. At least we'll be together!"
[middle of the street hugging/macking session, followed by ducking from bullet fire]

Personally, I think it would make a great next movie, though it probably didn't follow the next book in the series and they seem to have a thing about doing that. If nothing else, it beats the other dream I had, finishing off another dream from earlier in the week. This time I finished the JINS homework I started [dreamwise] last Tuesday. My subconscious apparently like to keep things themed.

Still Watching

Why am I not recaping this? I skipped the [boring] Globes, so why not this?

Oh, yeah: because I'm burning CDs and probably about ten minutes from breaking out my stage make-up and practicing my wrinkles.


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AHH! Jim Cummings! [Tigger, for the uninformed] "I'm thesping my little heart out here!"

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That Cynthia Nixon has some scary looking teeth.

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I love playing the "Why'd They Pick Them to Present?" game with the lifetime achievement awards. Mel Gibson was easy (Maverick), but it took the final clip cycle and some IMDb-ness to pull out the Julie Andrews connections.

---

I'm already crying over Jerry Orbach's win, and his widow hasn't even made it up to the stage yet.

Watching the SAG Awards

That whole "..and I'm an actor" thing kinda gives me hope for the industry I'm going into, except that I'm a techie and not an actress. (Hey! Jennifer Garner was a theatre techie! I don't necessarily want to mack on Ben Affleck, but I'd take just about everything else.)

Dear Kraft,

Please stop insulting my itelligence with your Easy Mac packaging. Just because I'm not springing for an entire box of the "regular" Mac and Cheese, don't assume that I need you to tell me which package to open first. I'd like to think we college students (one of your target markets, to cite a business class) understand you need to cook the noodles prior to pouring on the cheese powder.

Keep up the good work,

Hannah

Georgia on My Mind

I'm freshly back from the free showing of "Ray" and I'm a little underwhelmed. Jamie Foxx was just as fab as everyone's been saying (though, I personally thought I might've enjoyed him even more if I hadn't come to the thing expecting him to meet expectations that he did meet...if that makes sense to anyone except me). I didn't care for some of the directing choices (yes, I know he's kicking a heroin addiction; that doesn't mean you need to overdo the spinny camera), and that dream thing took me out of the whole movie. The music--the main attraction, if you will--was beyond amazing and makes me want to put "Mess Around" on rotate for the rest of the night. Besides, there's nothing like seeing a movie with the entire row behind you filled with what looks to be most of the Truman black linebackers making comments about the music like they've had seven years of band. Priceless, just like my admission.

Liebschen

My Mom is awesome because she sends me emails that briefly mention German words and then the p.s. at the end is all over the earlier mention that I hadn't really picked up on until then, supposing about the accuracy of the spelling, as if I would know.

Yeah, I know I don't usually go political...

Taken from IMDB:

On the subject of Gibson's [The Passion of the Christ], Moore tells Vanity Fair he was disturbed at, "How easily the vulnerable can be manipulated, twisted by images on the screen."

Gee, like when people see any movie (or play or TV show or whatever), and then--based on the facts they see--believe something and possibly even act on that belief? I mean, you wouldn't want that at all, would you Mr. Moore?

You can't fall asleep? Inconcivable!

I was, not five minutes (okay, maybe ten - I just popped in "The Princess Bride" because Melissa can't sleep, either), curling up under my covers, squishing down into my not-so-squishy pillow to fall asleep for the night.

It obviously didn't happen.

The moment I closed my eyes, my brain started racing around; analyzing the day, thinking about stuff that'd been said, and basically working out everything that had happened recently. Not the most conduitive environment for sleepy time, huh?

The problem with my sleep habits is I have to be exhaused before I go to bed or I won't fall asleep for ages. My brain picks that up as the perfect time to sort through things because, I imagine, it's one of the few times during the day/night that I'm not fluttering around, actually busy/productive with life activities. Just like how I used to practice acting scene lines in the shower, it's one of the few places where my head catches up with the rest of me once everything else is stuck for a bit.

So, here I am at the moment. I'm still not tired enough to actually fall asleep (I blame not getting to bed before one a.m. all week for that one), but I might see what happens when I crawl up in bed again and have the movie to focus on instead.

Good night, room.

"Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps si, me ciento bien"

It probably wouldn't be half as amusing if the two didn't line up so well, but currently Cake's "Perhaps Perhaps Perhaps" playing on my side of Merv is mixing with Melissa's Spanish tapedeck running through exercises and creating the next great remix.

Why am I still awake?

Oh, because I took a twenty minute nap that almost lasted two hours. Right.

In other news, Cubis has become my newest game obsession (though my mouse doesn't seem to like it at times). I still love the smell of my oil pastel crayons for JINS, though I don't think I've mentioned it here before, even if I still have issues with some of the rest of the class. In a further move to make Annie love me more (though picking up Farscape for Caleb was nearly enough to send her over the edge), I'm applying to join Sigma Tau Delta, the national honorary English fraternity. Apparently I like Greek leters.

Also, you don't realize how jealous you are, but you should be as only one person I know has a pack of specially manufactured Ryle 315 Trading Cards (featuring "Awesome Pancakes Melissa" and "Typewriter Hannah," among other things). Art projects will always trump accounting class.