(Actually, this'll sum up the year also...and in fewer words.)

On the way to the theater, as the bus horn was blarring for most of a block only to suddenly cease with a huge *whomp* of a bump, I was a bit pleased that I would die looking ever so classy (but I was sad I hadn't tried that cocoa-flavored Chex mix before I left the apartment).


Happy New Year, everyone. I had no idea I'd be here (in Texas, working with the children's theater branch of a professional company, wearing such a classy dress; pick your favorite) back at the end of 2005, and only the Lord knows where I'll be one year hence.

summing up the year

From the first draft of what I eventually sent to my mother for the annual Christmas letter:

Hannah's year has been one of many changes. She feels silly even listing her accomplishments and troubles for teh past year, though--by putting in the thought required for this letter--she now realizes what a tremendously fantastic year it was. This past spring, Hannah took on her busiest semester yet, working on every school production (in some capacity), finishing and presenting her English capstone project, and performing with an original children's theatre troupe. She also managed many late nights spent on movies, card games, and all around rambunchesness, all more fun than the similarly late nights spent on schoolwork. In May, her school years came to an end as she graduated cum laude from TSU with a BA in Theatre and English, and a minor in Business Administration (too pretentious?) Hannah celebrated with a trip to London and Dublin with several friends from school. She saw a multitude of overpriced churches, U2's Bono, and more flights of stairs than she would care to mention. These were two of her favorite weeks of life (thus far). Directly following her return to the country, she had a job interview and offer for the faith-based theater company where she now works. Hannah has been in Texas with the A.D. Players since August as a SM/box office intern. She received an unofficial promotion when the previous Rotunda SM left and thus took over those duties in the children's theater. By now, she's completed her first show on her own, and is in pre-production for the next two. Just like college, though, she's found movie, cards, and hanging out people. Hannah is guaranteed stuck with Texas humidity until the end of next August, but will hopefully be hanging around for longer.

(and almost out of queso)

First night back at box office in a month, and no end of problems. The printer didn't work in the lobby, the ticketing program didn't want to load, and the majority of people from the large group attending the show didn't seem to realize that their tickets were not under their individual names.

My favorite part would be the woman and her daughter who showed up about five minutes into the show (which had already started late, btw). The house manager had fetched me from another part of the theater despite my plea to just send them away because, in his words, "maybe we could make a little money." We get to the lobby, and, as the mother was on the phone, it takes a few more minutes for them to finally walk over. Conversation (edited down to reach the point quicker) ensues:

HANNAH: Okay, I have a few seats left. Full price for tonight is $30 and a student walk-up ticket would be $15. (to house manager) I'll sell tickets on the left, but you can just seat them wherever's least distracting.

BRAZEN WOMAN: Actually, we're season ticket holders and already saw the show before. I was hoping that we could just walk-in and get any open seat. (*smiles*)

[I know this smile. It's the same smile I use whenever I'm asking somewhat impossible or unhappy tasks.]

HANNAH: For free?

BRAZEN WOMAN: Yes.

[artful pause, half glance to house manager]

HANNAH: I'm sorry, but that's not our policy.

BRAZEN WOMAN: Oh. Well I guess we'll pass then. Thanks so much! Exits.

Because, of course, I'm going to reward your lack of consideration for the actors and crew with complimentary tickets since you're a season ticket holder and you've seen the first five minutes, anyway. Sheesh. At least I get the morning off tomorrow.

On the list of things you need to know about me, between "Yes, I always walk that fast." and "Shiny is one of the main ways to my heart."

Even if I own it, even if I'm less than ten feet away from being able to put it in the machine, even if there was something else on I was trying to find, I will stop and watch a movie on TV if it's on/near one of my favorite parts, or within close distance to the satisfying end.

that much closer to free popcorn

Last night we made the aquaintance of possibly the worst Christmas film ever, which I realize is a strong statement, especially coming from someone with "Santa Claus Versus the Martians" on her hard drive. Either way, the world is now filled with comments about disrupting the cosmic balance.

My favorite part of tonight's movie is a tie between Tenika pointing out all the tidbits referenced in the children's play and Jesse's perfectly timed quip to me (in the middle of one of Elizabeth's piercing childbirth screams), "Good luck with that."


After the movie, the five of us had a brief discussion, ending with the general comment that we're (in Natalie's words) more "socially happy" than anywhere we've been before. I don't know if I can throw myself completely behind that statement. I'm certainly very happy and entertained to hang with the people I do, but there's still a part of me that misses some of my Missouri folk something awful. I don't know whether this will improve or not by running into them during my brief travels. Phone conversations to catch up on details of life are certainly not the same as actually seeing people day-to-day. The delightful cellphone also can't prepare you for the little inevitable changes in people over the span of several months.

Let me quickly clarify: I love it here. I really, truly feel like this absolutely where I'm supposed to be AND I enjoy it. The fact that I have both sides is an amazing gift that I cannot ever repay with enough thanks. But, if we remember from the Truman years, I didn't stay feeling completely comfortable until after that first section of time. I shouldn't be expected to be completely at ease now (or frankly any moment); that wouldn't be in my nature.

This became somewhat down somewhere in there, and that wasn't my intention at all. Maybe if I stopped cheating myself out of sleep, that would help things. Also, allow me to do a list of positive things before we become too concerned with my well-being:

* jokingly requesting that people supply me with food/cookies/candy, and them actually coming through with food/cookies/candy (twice in one day)

* being complimented on my organizational skills by one of my directors and his assistant director

* the thought of chocolate-covered Tootsie Rolls: what's up with that?

(I'm sorry that I don't write full-out things anymore.)

* My obsessive weather checking tells me the TX temp will drop while I'm gone (to the low 50s), but that'll instantly feel warmer than anything I'll get in Missouri. It's like I put together this plan myself for my benefit.

* Favorite part of my eye exam yesterday: "We generally want to avoid eyes popping out." Second fav: I have a freckle on my eye (nothing to be concerned about, just a pigment thing), which would be my new trivia fact for "stump people with your bit of trivia" games if I didn't keep telling people.

* The Highland Village Christmas lights are even trippier when your eyes have been dialated with three different solutions.

* I am so fiendishly pleased (and diabolically evil) to have video--with sound!--on my camera. The clips on right now actually make up for the fact that the poor dear doesn't take the greatest night pictures.

* I ran the spotlight for the church's Christmas musical this past weekend, having only seen the show once (in the prior service). I had never operated one before.

Things I should be doing instead: Christmas cards, pre-production paperwork, whatever "door mix" (as written on my hand) means.

As always, I thank the IMDb for bringing me something like this.

pieces

I'm still vastly confused about who my Secret Santa is, but I think the same holds true for the person I've been gifting.

I spent three hours last night (after the hour spent bellydancing, and the two-three-ish hours I spent collapsed on my couch asleep) moving most of my college years onto disk. I still haven't hit the empty button on the recyle bin, but those 62 items need to go somewhere.

Eye glasses appointment made for next week: check. Accidentally made less than two hours before the company Christmas party: check.

Unless you're in my immediate family (this list includes some close friends), or I found something absolutely perfect, I do not plan to shop for you this year. I'm sorry that I work in theater...but not really.

too much!

It should not be a high of 80 degrees anywhere in the middle of December....at least, nowhere with me in the middle of it. Are we trying to kill every bit of cold weather tolerance I used to have?

There's a meteor shower tonight, anyway.

Why on earth is it warmer outside than it is in my fridgid, freezing apartment? I'm going for a walk.

(Yes, Mom, I realize that's it's after nine o'clock in downtown Houston. This is why I'm actually just going to the mall until they kick me out.)

"Mondays are full of possibility," she replied, "but I don't advise discounting the rest of the week, either."

Today I was approximately six and a half for a few hours, which resulted in tag and laughing loudly and chasing people around the theater. I could now burst into a rendition of "My Favorite Things," but we all realized that already, right? I found a should-be-classic at the new Borders and promptly purchased three copies. After three months of living together, Jess and I finally settled who owed what *today.* (That's called progress, children.) I had my first celebrity attend a Rotunda show and if someone turned me into a graphic novel character, I think I'd turn out like this.

The only downside I see to having these wonderful sort of days is not that they must end eventually, but that they cause me to neglect sleep.

I believe in the magic of rain.

Any day that begins with waking up to rain outside the window, whether you beat the alarm or not, is bound to be filled with wonderful things. Though things started slow, I give a list of all the ways today swerved into completely awesome:

* not needing a jacket at the bus stop at 8:45 a.m. in December

* an audience with the decency to show up on time for their show

* dinosaur imitations in the booth (I'm more a pterodactyl than a T-Rex)

* church bells

* taking a field trip to a place called "The Chocolate Bar"

* making the aquantance of the above's next door neighbor, "Candylicious"

* rediscovering Kinder Surprise Eggs

* discovering that Kinder Surprise Eggs are technically illegal to buy/sell in the U.S.

* pizza in the box office

* random gingersnaps showing up on my desk, mid-phone call

* returning to Candylicious; purchasing illegal items

* the possibility of mini-golf

* Christmas cards from delighful people

* only partially burned muffins (score!)

* a sudden doorstop full of guys looking to play a vaguely RPG-type card game

* breaking out the giant bag of Tootsie Rolls

* devouring the giant bag of Tootsie Rolls

* perfect walking weather at midnight a.m.

"Somedays, it's a zoo in here. But at least then I can sit back and be entertained."

Following a theory that whatever you do for work you might as well also do during your free time, I started working in the sound booth at church today. I meant to just stay for the first service, but instead I stuck around for a second. That awesome fade into the post-offering video? Totally me improvising with sliders. I already like that I've found a way to be involved with the church, though I'm a bit bummed that it comes at the loss of those I was just beginning to know better due to sitting in the same place for the past three months straight.

In other news, this pilates thing I can do so much more effectively than the tae-bo. I thank Becky Becker's acting classes for keeping me flexible, and I mourn the loss of the roundhouse queen I was in high school. Finally, how dare the universe conspire to hook me into "Heroes?" One of these days I might not be so free with my evenings, and then where will my new TV habits be?

Incidentally, that last sentence is part of my New Year's resolutions, because I'm going for all random things this year.

Think I can justify this dress (in the white pin dots) for the New Year's Eve shindig the theater throws? If it's not obvious, I'm trying to find something that'll work for other functions as well, such as those swing dance lessons I'm planning on starting at the top of 2007.

test results

I've discovered that (despite the vent being above the closet and not actually inside the closet) if I leave the closet doors open, then my room is seriously ten degrees warmer in the morning.

Slight side effect: I also sleep in about thirty minutes longer than I should.

halfway through the video, morphed into a puddle on the carpet

I'll cut myself some slack since I'm jumping back in with my roomie's advanced video, but I have no idea how I rocked out all that tae-bo stuff back in high school. Billy Blanks can just shut up and leave me alone.

nothing much to say

I feel obligated to post something, but my life has hit a round of routine again. I do the show (sometimes twice), I hit the box office for a few hours, and then I come home to work on a variety of non-essential projects (organizing photos online, reading library books, trying to clear things off the DVR).

I need to do some Christmas shopping. I also need to use my Best Buy coupon while it's still good and I have a seasonal product I wish to purchase (ah, every onward quest to gain the entire Muppets canon). I further need to complete various pieces of paperwork (production reports, ASM duties list for the temporary replacement, update the quotes list). Soon.

(And once more, I break into song within the box office. No one comments.)

It's actual honest-to-Bob winter outside!

I need a scarf. And a nap.

the things that occur when tech doesn't finish until preview night

There's one page of this script (the very final page, in fact) where I have to change three different lights (spread among four switches) at the same time, after which I get up from my chair to lower in the Star of Bethlehem (thanking Target for producing it in white, as I lower it in darkness), with just enough time to spare to turn the Star on while making my way back to my chair, hit the next cue button for a blackout, then take two sets of Christmas lights above plus two more switches worth of Christmas lights plus the Star that just came on, breathe in and out twice (the same length of time it takes for the actors to get to center stage), and begin curtain call. This would make up a full half the light cues in the entire show.

I do not like this page. I do, however, like this show.

Just a little late, but we know I was busy...

Things I Am Grateful For, Texas Edition:

* Taco Cabana's queso

* the possibility of the Museum District, even if I never manage to see it

* not having to pay an electricity bill

* my free, yet terribly comfortable, bed

* the word "forsooth," my favorite catchphrase of the intern collective (followed by our unofficial motto: "Don't suck!")

* introducing new people to High School Musical

* knowing the most effective bus route to the favored movie theater of the A.D. Players

* living one block from a mall

* new friends willing to chauffer all over, treat to onion rings, play games until everyone is beyond ridiculous, join in all manner of random adventures, and yet still appreciate stories from the people you're thankful for from back home

Packing up the week's loose ends

First, you have no idea how much I've missed this "having time off" thing. Students everywhere, please take a moment to appreciate the fact that, despite the papers you might be frantically still putting off at this time, you've received more time off this week than the amount of vacation hours I'm allotted per year. I will now move on to avoid dwelling on the same.

Second, this week has been a bugger. The box office started bustling again with the promise of a new show, meaning the usual Monday understaffing was not such a grand idea. Monday evening was filled with final plotting and planning, as well as possibly the longest phone conversation I have ever held with an Angelfish. Tuesday...Tuesday was so non-stop that I don't think I would've managed lunch if it hadn't been the combination of provision (a pre-Thanksgiving gift to the company) and other people eating between flights. I had a dress rehearsal for the artistic director (and I'm *so pleased* the director forgot to inform me of such ahead of time) and then more extended phone calls from the homeland. (Tiffani: how's the ankle?) Wednesday were auditions for the next kid's show and my first evening box office shift of the new show, followed by supreme amounts of sleeping.

Ah, the sleeping.

Thursday consisted of an incredible amount of food and games and festiveness as the group of us ended up taking a break from the eating to land at the downtown lighting of the Christmas trees. There were fireworks, perfectly aimed to reflect off the overly-mirrored windows of several office buildings. Thursday also consisted of no additional sleep, as I discovered a fellow Black Friday fiend in Jesse. Agreeing to stand in line at Best Buy starting around 3:30 a.m.? MVP [second team], sir, MVP. (First team MVP honors go to Natalie, who ferried me to and from the airport on Tuesday, for helping me reach something more important than cheap DVDs.)

I have slept since then, which is always a plus, especially since then I can go back and decide if I want to keep all the DVDs I purchased, as well as do more field research on the digital camera that I'll probably end up keeping (but want to make certain within my 14 day return policy schedule). Also, I'm working box office again this evening and I'm always slightly more lucid with a few hours of sleep under my belt.

I'm really only looking because I got a coupon in the mail, which reminded me anew that I wanted one, and I'm sorta checking if I should avoid purchasing such things because I'm going to get one anyway.

Pretty.

In other news, I need Black Friday to arrive and leave so I can stop obsessing and start enjoying the inevitable new stack of movies that I could justify spending only $3 on apiece. I also need to get some sleep since I've run myself around entirely too much lately, especially with the amount of Not Sleeping that I've been doing on top of things. (I must be doing something proper, though, since I had a brief conversation in passing with the almighty artistic director today who wanted to mention how pleased she was with me. This also can help justify the pretty as an "earned it" item.)

So many other, more vital to the world and my specific place in it thoughts running through my head, but I don't have the time or the energy to make sense of them tonight because I have to put together an audition order for the morning instead.

I need a more comfortable desk chair so I can fall asleep in it without worrying that it'll fold up on me in the middle of the night like the lawn chair that it actually is.

In completely unrelated news, I have about sixteen hours to learn a certain Oscar-winning song with which to serenade someone tomorrow.

No matter how many times I ask for it to occur, it always surprises me when I ask for a sign...and the sign appears. Especially when it's letting me know that there's still potential to fix something that I hadn't been aware needed a fix.

Pondering ensues. And memorization.

just a note before I go

I've been in a funky mood lately, and I'd like to blame in on the fact that I have all sorts of tech going on (which generally puts me in A Mood) and not that I'm feeling the lonely effects of choosing to watch massive amounts of movies stored on my DVR instead of calling up people and going out somewhere. It doesn't help that almost all of the people who I hang out with in Texas are involved with the mainstage, killing their evenings and most of the weekend. I want my show to start so I can fall in love with all the tech and audience participation all over again.

In other news, last week I was told that I looked like an anime character with my faux Mary Janes and chopstick-like pencils in my pigtails. Two days previously I'd inevertibly dressed in all black with boots and felt very ninja-esque. The next day I was referred to as "the most sarcastic person I know," which was most likely exageration (considering the source), but not completetly without merit. I blame my constant changing images last week on the influence of Googlism.

In other other news, I need to do laundry. No, seriously. And get new music in my head, much as I appreciate the humor of "25th Annual Putnum County Spelling Bee." I am, afterall, the most sarcastic person some people know.

pre-empted

This morning I woke up with the intention of writing a post about how I'm nervous about screwing up in my grand position as stage manager. Most of the show's tech has been pushed off in favor of finishing the mainstage (currently in previews, opening tomorrow), and--though I realize that the shop was terribly busy trying to pull everything together for that on time--I feel like I should've been pestering the crew more to keep things on schedule.

This evening I had a quick conversation with one of the other company stage managers (recently promoted from intern to company member) about how she also hates pressing the techies because she knows they're dealing with two shows and everything will come together, even if it's not on the schedule she wants. "I don't have to worry about it, but I do because I still want to make sure I'm doing enough."

I like not feeling alone in my insecurities.

Now, it just depends on whether the company meeting runs long, or if the production meeting lasts the entire hour, how bad traffic is going (and coming), and the ability to find people in a huge, international-serving airport.

I am going to see my Lemon Drop! Next Tuesday! For only about an hour! But that's an hour longer than I've seen anyone else since July! I hope I'm not jinxing anything!

the last crumbs left in my brain today

* Over the course of the evening, I pulled together ten pieces of mail that I now need to go drop in the outbox, including three postcards and one extensive letter.

* I have had the best fried chicken I've ever eaten, and it's from a recipe on the back of a spice bottle.

* Merv has decided, in honor of our slightly north of the border status, to only play the Disney songs on the hard drive that are in Spanish. There are more of these than some people might originally believe.

* Gilmore Girls is going to drive me to the point of not watching it anymore within the next month unless something changes drastically.

* I think I'm going to pick all my Facebook status messages from Googlism from now on, purely because it amuses me and I seldom have real news to share there anyway.

* I was asked yesterday if Houston felt like home yet (or something to that effect), and I had to admit that it did. I've been meaning to write a post on it for awhile without finding the proper words. Why should the shiny green brick in wall that I pass daily (and like to think has some form of magic attached) contribute to my feeling of belonging in the same way as a firm knowledge of the local bus schedule? Why does purchasing a bag of flour or a muffin pan or a framed wall print make me feel settled and all adult-like? Sometimes it just strikes me for utterly random reasons that I'm here in Houston on my own (for all practical purposes) and it's thrilling/terrifying/all manner of other emotions I can't affectively describe this week because my brain is too busy with tech work.

* Yes, did I mention it's the start of tech time, this show extended over two weeks due to the Thanksgiving-ness of next week? Swell. And I'd like to see some lights materialize, seeing as the mainstage opens tomorrow and people'll finally have time for the rotunda.

And then I bought a huge box of Pop-Tarts from Sam's.

A beloved toaster has died of an undetermined illness and/or old age. (The deceased was four years old, unless it was actually the previous property of someone's older brother, and then it was more likely five.) The miraculous unnamed appliance was often fondly used during the groggy breakfast hours, and was the source of several early morning smoke detector alarms. The toaster is survived by half a loaf of bread, most of a jar of jelly, and a decreased list of breakfast options.

(exhales, slowly)

After a full week, and noticing the beginning of chips along the edges of the paint, I resumed the chomping of my nails that I've done for the past twenty-odd years of my life. Even allowing for the short pause of time in my biting habit, that first crunch back felt akin to what I imagine smokers must feel returning to their first cigarette in a long time: so terribly satisfying, and just the beginning of so many more to come.

Halfsies

Today I am officially twenty-two and a half, which is important to the world only because I am also basically seven. I plan on eating half the giant Kit Kat bar sitting in our kitchen from Halloween, rocking out the flipped hair, and perhaps buying something off of Half.com. (Hey, I like justifying the things I would do anyway by putting some sort of outside motivation behind them.)

This is for Melissa.

Hint! Press the Play button...

slingbacks and suspenders

Though neither one is the greatest way to spend what's left of my paycheck, recent talk of big band music and an overall underlying love of flouncy skirts might undo me completely.

(edited to add something in form of a title since it was starting to bug me)

Have I ever mentioned that you can see absolutely all of my London/Dublin pictures where I spent many hours uploading and labeling and lavishing thought on them? Be warned when I say it's all 300+.

Also see the less-than-cleverly-named link on the sidebar. Maybe I'll attempt to update with my other most recent pics, too.

possibly the last anyone will ever hear of me

I have joined the ranks of cable subscribers, and--through whatever special was kicking last month--have up through channel 822 worth of brain-decaying fluff (plus the history channel!). I can rewind live television, move a picture-in-picture around the screen, and watch early '90s movies in Spanish.

I'm glad my couch is so comfortable.

There's really no point to this list except to announce that I got my first manicure/pedicure today.

Proof that I am a girl:

* all those times that blow-drying my hair caused me to miss my proper bus

* the daily agonizing over what earrings to wear

* I just spent $20 to have someone poke, prod, and otherwise fuss over my nails, culminating with a couple coats of paint.

Proof that I'm not a girly-girl:

* The blow-drying? Only twice.

* It's not so much "agonizing" as picking between the same pair of hoops or something else.

* No defense.

Looking for something unchallenging to fall asleep to (don't we love when I post when I can't sleep and therefore take things too personally?)

If someone's collection is clearly alphabetized, for love of Pete don't stick things back in wherever you can make space. Unless, considering the new friends I've made with the company and the fact that we've already all noticed that I alphabetize, it's been happening on purpose in an effort to see how long it would take for me to fix things.

(Guess what I'm doing now?)

Leaving behind the issue of Dakota Fanning and her creepy eyes, it pains me that future generations will hear Julia Roberts' voice when they read "Charlotte's Web."

if I'm dreaming/then I'm dreaming of you

I crashed on the couch while watching MST3K as my version of Halloween (not feeling quite social enough for another party) and--upon waking forty minutes later with no clue in the world about what was going on anymore--I went to bed at not quite 8:30.

If we can see by the post time, this was not the greatest idea.

Further insult to injury, not including the parts about massive remodeling of our bathroom and the stage with all the history of famous circus clown/cowboy performers (what?), I had been in the middle of a wonderful dream where I drove up to a house in the country and snuck up on my favorite zombie and angelfish, announcing my presence by pelting them both with the best powder snow the Midwest can offer.

And now I'm extra mad that I can't fall back asleep.

It occurs to me that I haven't eat much besides cupcakes all day. Four a.m. will do that to you.

So, my favorite part of the Halloween party (of which I was, I guess, co-co-host or so seeing as it was at my apartment and I purchased all the candy) would have to be the ever-popular game of Psychiatrist, especially since the horns on my wig made my answers weird.

No...My favorite part would be the special guest appearance of TAA-DA, the children's theater mascot, who was rolled into the living room in a shopping cart.

No! My favorite part was Jesse, dressed up as a homeless bum (who, incidentally, completely freaked out the three of us in the apartment prior to his arrival as we all believed he was a homeless bum), hitting up people for money on the corner and making a mumble-filled trip to Walgreens for Pringles on our behalf.

NO! My favorite part would be ending up with a group of holdouts to the end, playing card games until four a.m. with utter disregard for sense, eating chips and salsa around the fake cochroach still in the bowl, laughing at Jessica's inclusion of random sound effects between songs on the party mix until all manner of stomach muscles ached.

I really don't need anything in life beyond cards and slaphappy people to be overly competitve with late at night. Except some queso, of course, and someone to drink all the soda that still remains in our fridge.

There is a lot of "theatre" around that isn't "theatre," as it makes no use of the audience's imagination. There's nothing to do, except sit there until you leave. You look at a set of a living room, and it's all there, down to the last electrical outlet. So we are in the habit of suspending less and less disbelief. Occasionally, an actor in a desperately naturalistic play will switch on a lamp beside a bed, and the lamp (controlled by the stage manager) will come on a second early or late. Suddenly, there's this feeling, this life, real honest laughter in the audience, even self-awareness, somehow. So...it isn't theatre if the lamp comes on at the exact moment in which the actor pretends to turn it on.
-Will Eno, twenty questions with American Theatre

"But there's a Deeper Deep Magic...!"

LION closed this past weekend, which was more than a little bittersweet. I was ready for the show to end, seeing as I've been listening to the same forty-three minutes six times weekly for a month. I wasn't, however, ready to end my personal enjoyment, generally formed by the quotable cast and absolute mocking of the action.

I'm not going to dwell on the part where this was my first professional show as an ASM, and eventually full-blown stage manager. Instead, I'd rather focus on the part where I wrote down people being funny. It's not a comprehensive list because I'm trying out this thing where I focus more on being professional than taking down quotes as they occur, but we'll see how long that lasts this season, huh?

(Also, I don't care if these are only funny to me. Deal.)


How about Aslan and Jadis?
Dated in high school, ended badly. -Setting up character relationships

I guess I could read ahead and actually act. -Abby (Lucy), at the read-through

There's always a box in Narnia! -Kevin, the director

You're going to explain in a dramatic, fun, British kind of way... -the director

It's always winter in Narnia.
Can you eat it?
Only if it's not yellow.
Ooh! Mr. Tumnus! -the cast has too much downtime

She'll not see you because you're wearing a white shirt and it's winter. -when Edmund (Cliff) voices concern about not being skinny enough to hide behind a lamppost

And then you start licking it off the floor. -fake blocking to Lucy, upon the line "and they've spilled hot chocolate all over the floor"

You little...girl! (pause) I was trying to think up a G-rated response. The first three were unacceptable. You little...no...no...girl. (pause) It's early.

The White Witch is dead! Who else wants some?! -Aslan (Jeff) after the big battle

Susan looks like Lucy, just with glasses. -Patty, addressing our lack of a Susan by using the same double casting that makes Peter/Edmund work - the addition of glasses

And that's the end of Lucy. Yes, it was really Edmund. You didn't recognize him without his glasses. -Peter pushing Lucy off the steep hill

And I will cut his throat...by laser beam! -White Witch (Patty)

If Aslan can avoid turning into stone, he should be in great shape... -Marty, offering pre-fight commentary during great battle rehearsal

ABBY: And then you'll need to pause while the children cry.
JEFF: Just tell them to shut up or they'll be next. -Aslan's death

I'll just do the entire show myself...with finger puppets! (wiggles finger) Oh, Mr. Tumnus! (wiggles another finger) Yes, Lucy? -Abby

I should've left my feet out there. -Mr. Tumnus (K. Deaver), watching the children lament his trashed cave

I wonder if she can make him go to seven? -Jason, watching Edmund call for Lucy double the scripted twice

LUCY: Peter, that hill is so steep!
HANNAH: That's why they call it the Steep Hill, Lucy.

I'm gonna go shake my tailfeather! -recently unfrozen bird (Cliff), per request of the leaving SM, Mandy

HANNAH: Your collar was up again, and I thought it was going to drive me insane.
CLIFF: You realize that's my point, right? I do that on purpose every show.
NATALIE: Doing good.

I want to get this show down to twenty minutes. Can't we just skip all this? Like, "The robin looked her in the eye as if to say, 'follow me,' so we did. We followed it through the woods, past a beaver dam that we would've otherwise entered, and up a steep mountain hill. On the way it told us about this prophecy where we'd all become rulers, but only with the defeat of some witch who wanted to kills us all, and incidentally had our younger brother in her clutches at this very moment...." -Mandy (paraphrased), trying to get to lunch sooner

Fight ensues, ends badly for White Witch -blocking in the typed-up version of the script, as written by SM

You realize I'm now the person who decides whether or not you deserve light, right? -one variation of a spiel I gave often

I know, living with the bears, after awhile I'd feel comfortable, but I'd still carry a gun. Or a broadsword.
I think your best bet is a lightsaber. -discussing the documentary on the guy who lived with grizzlies, only to eventually be killed by his "friends"

I'm not a good Christian when I'm driving. -Houston traffic, enough said

Now, who didn't take a turtle and dip him in toxic waste, just to see what happened? -Marty, on Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

NATALIE: We've been talking about movies and TV for awhile. If we didn't have that, what would we talk about?
JEFF: Probably crops or somethin'.

(And then I ate the chocolate lava cake from Bennigans, which is attempting to be the infamous seven layer chocolate mountain cake with additional ice cream)

DO go see The Prestige, because Christopher Nolan knows how to make a delightfully twisty script (really, huh?), you'll never get to see Batman and Wolverine try to out-magic each other ever again, and any screen time with David Bowie will throw "Dance Magic" into one's head in a delightful manner.

DON'T eat most of the huge popcorn tub by yourself, especially when you've accidentally applied entirely too much salt and the top layer causes supreme taste damage.

Once upon a time, two small siblings discovered an even smaller ball of fluff lost and mewing under the back porch. She was an abandoned kitten (far as we could tell), she wasn't going to last long on her own, and she had the benefit of showing up while the siblings' father was out of town long enough for everyone else to love the fluff prior to his return.



It's the sort of inevitable news I've been prepared for since we moved out of the house and she went to live with other, non-apartment dwelling people, but that didn't make much difference. It wouldn't hurt so much when things (and people and pets and onward) are gone if we hadn't loved them so much when they were around.

Naturally, the way to get internet back is to complain about it in a public forum.

I just found out the Cardinals won last night, a factoid that I plan on flaunting all day long among the Astros fans (maybe not around the one in scheduling).

beautiful oblivion

Thanks to all the delightful rain and flooding and basic dampending of the world earlier this week, there is no internet to be found in Plantation #69. End service announcement.

"Nertz-Blitz-Peanuts!...Crap!"

The alternate title could've been "feels like home," as I spent the best part of my evening playing my favorite card game with some classy people (with classy trash talk, naturally). Of the four of us, three had played under different names, leaving the fourth to adopt his own title (Crap!, exclamation point so included) so we could each yell out our individual name upon winning the round. Did you know that in some versions you can receive a 10 pt. bonus upon winning the round while in others you're actually encouraged to hold off yelling the name to rack up more points (instead of people simply doing so on a case-by-case, I don't want them to yell at me for winning again basis).

Other tidbits:
* Some people now know that I like to hit people, and strenuously encourage the hitting of others. Though I would like to add, for my mother's sake, that I did not actually do any of the hitting last night.

* Having watched "Beaches" only a few hours before the rousing card sharking, I must say that if the grand ways to bond with my roommate are through movies and cards, life obviously has things worked out.

Maybe they're just in 315?

It occurred to me this morning that I've never gone searching for the possibility of zombies in my shower upon reaching Texas. Apparently they don't live here, at least, they don't live in people's showers.

Why am I awake when I don't have papers to write?

I feel like wearing contacts. No, not right now...though it might be the 3:15 talking.

We started pulling out embarassing videos of ourselves, mainly old shows and classwork, this evening. Really all I have to offer up here are a few random video clips on Merv and the King Arthur video that I'm only in for about three minutes at the top (the Lady of the Lake doesn't do much), and we'd spend the rest of the time explaining who people were and why these things were funny to anyone else. And, naturally, why Melissa had to be the one in the go-go boots.

I was briefly a tree for a sugar glider. Apparently you can't just call them "flying squirrels" anymore. Maybe it makes the other squirrels jealous?

Something outside keeps rattling and scraping in the neverending rain that we've received all day. I don't know what it is though, and--at this time of day--my brain is telling myself that it's all sorts of no-good-ness out to break-in through the large glass door leading from my room to the back patio. I'm torn between completely closing the blinds so no imaginary someone sneaking in through the back can see where I am (instead they can go through the still-lit, yet empty, window of Jessica's room, where the others should have plenty of time to hear and react) and keeping the blinds open so I can see when the people show up. Seeing as my paranoia isn't truly real and is more of the sleepy, addled sort, I think I'll make the executive decision not to care and go to sleep.

drip drip

All this rain makes me want to curl up in all manner of blankets with a mug of hot chocolate and do nothing but read old books until it's late enough in the day that I can justify falling asleep to the sound of the storm.

Unfortunately, I've had to make do with a Hershey bar and milk, and I have too much backlogged paperwork to be unproductive. At least the A/C continues to kick back on often enough to justify blankets.

This news, delivered in the first sentence (even before a hello) of a quick, early morning phone call from my mother as she worked on her school's computer server, makes me want to cry and rejoice will all the abiding satisfaction of the world.

I am coming home, leaving Texas, arriving in Missouri for Christmas, sometime on the 23rd and staying through most of the 26th. I know I keep reiterating those dates, but you have no idea how many people I want to see or how strongly I'll want to see y'all by then.

For now, I need to go to work. I will be hunting for plane tickets this afternoon in the box office.

(Yes, Melissa, I've started using that word again. No, Melissa, you may not receive coinage for each use.)

HUZZAH! I get to have my schedule cleared December 23 (after my show closes) through all of December 26!


Parents, dears, are you coming here or am I going there? Plane tickets need to be purchased by someone, sooner rather than later.

The *things* that occur, simply by sitting at this desk...

I love being involved with office politics.

killing time AND attempting productivity

Perhaps it's upset because I've yet to give it a name. Sweet copy machine, I simply knew that you were not mine and I therefore could not lay such a claim to you forever. I meant no offense, but I cannot think of anything else I might've done to cause such treatment at your hands.

I copy a script page, it turns out fine. I copy a second script page, it also appears in the manner I wished. Without changing any settings, I copy the next page, and suddenly the world has flipped sideways and no matter of changed settings will return the world to its proper angle. What cruel trick of fate must you play to force me into retyping the 75 page script by hand, nevermind that (font size what it is) I was going to need to do so eventually anyway?

working on the calendar

Why on earth am I having a production meeting tomorrow for a show that won't open until February?

post-lets

* I can officially despise coffee now after choking down an entire cup this past weekend (ah, politeness). I'd previously been basing it off smell alone.

* Merv keeps trying to get me to listen to CATS. I don't know why tonight is the night that Macavity and Mr. Mistoffelees are attempting to invade my brain.

* I run an actual audience-and-all show of "Lion" for the first time tomorrow. Thoughts of sunshine, puppies, and broken spleens (in a good way) would all be appreciated.

featuring a supreme lack of A/C circulation

If there's a better way to spend Sunday night than eating lots of fruit and Tex-Mex, followed by some rousing games of Catchphrase and Psychatrist, and finishing with the last holdouts playing Balderdash past one a.m., I don't want to hear about it.

(Though it suddenly occurs to me that I still haven't read the script for the production meeting I'll have on Tuesday, which will be less likely to be accomplished now that I'll simply want to sleep once I get home tomorrow evening. Being offered as the clue to the word "sassy" during Catchphrase; that helps a little.)

Have I mentioned lately how much I love it here?

hit me baby, one more time

Are there more pathetic ways to spend your Saturday night than trolling Facebook while eating cold Chinese in your pajamas? Of course. I could be listening to teenybopper music at the same time.

In other news: I spent most of this afternoon downtown fishing through the plethera of vintage and secondhand clothing stores all clustered together. I need to put things on hangers, except for the shoes, which need to be on my feet for hours and hours. Also, my newest fashion phase seems to be inspired by "Under the Tuscan Sun." I cannot wait until I invest all my money in a rundown villa just so I can wear my new skirt while applying plaster to the walls.

Maybe I should just put in a movie and go to sleep. I'm sure all that soda I drank with my leftovers won't affect that plan whatsoever.

heading for bed (yes, really)

Sweet mercy, I'm tired. These silly morning shows don't help, but it's really been a wearing-out sort of week. All my spare time at the Rotunda lately has led to going through light cues while faking giving verbal gos to sound. Merv went fritzy again, but now seems better than ever...just in time for new CDs to come in from the library. Timing, impeccable as always. My free time at Grace has been spent by trying to stay awake in the box office and put a bit more zip into my phone answering, since an alarming number of people this week have asked if I was a recording/real person/message/etc. I've also found that, while I can't crowd control the area as much, the A.D.'s couch is more comfortable for sleeping than that of my previous internship.

I am still laughing, loudly and often. I know who can take being given a hard time, who does not understand the concept of sarcasim (as practiced by short chicks), and who knows the location of discounted cake. I am doing important things like copying scripts and putting together how-to lists for the piles of temps we pull in while the most knowledgable member of the box office flies to Italy for a week or two. I gained full possession of the Rotunda keys yesterday and the fact that it didn't freak me out as much as it could've means I must be ready. Mostly.

true love

Even lately as I've been battling my lack of memory and probably an internet-based virus of some form, no matter how often Merv seizes up, he still lets me play Solitaire. If that isn't devotion, I don't know what else counts.

documenting life

My hair was still doing its flip from the morning, the one it does when it senses that Good Things Are to Come, and I accented with my favorite vintage earrings. It was, after all, a special occassion. There were movie posters on the wall in Italian, the phrase "deep and abiding doom" repeated for maximum effect, and a few rounds of "tell me something I don't know" followed by its rousing cousin, "tell me ridiculous lies." There's a new joke about ponies. There were threats regarding people ending up thrown in the apartment pool. Consumption of the world's most amazing cheesecake was followed by a charming walk home and a smile that seems to imply I should keep my social calendar open.

Not bad, October. Way to make an entrance.

chomping on grapes

I'm working on staying up later, since I realize that all my rotunda time has forced me into a morning person-type routine. It's nice to be with it in the morning, as that does lead to a tendancy to actually remember my lunch and onward, but I hate that I continually crash around 10 p.m. in return.

Not that I'm doing anything truly productive with my time, short of cutting coupons and burning a few more CDs to relieve Merv from pressure. Still, it is 11:08 p.m. and I am awake. Though, honestly, not for very much longer.

briefly, then bed

Today I officially learned that Mandy, the resident SM for our children's theater and therefore my current SM on Lion, had received a job from a local university and would therefore be leaving the A.D. Players.

This means I will be taking over SM-ing the production in her place.

This means I will be taking over SM-ing all future children's productions for the year.

This means big things.

past, present, future

* Yesterday I actually cried myself to sleep (for the first time since moving here) because my heart is currently breaking for so many people not close enough to hug or otherwise defuse their crisis. (I will not dwell on how much watching Gilmore Girls while eating ice cream straight from the carton--thus making me more girl--affected this situation.)

* This morning I accidentally set off the smoke detector while making toast. I now know never to go above level four, plus I'm even for the time that Jessica did the same thing at 11:30 p.m. the night before I had an early show.

* Tomorrow is payday, which means I'll be able to afford things again. Naturally I'm celebrating by planning a trip to the mall with one of the other interns who I don't see often, though I might end up helping someone move instead. This weekend: thy name is options.

Something terribly important flitted through my brain, yet it fell out again by the time I actually pulled up Blogger.

So, about last week: I apologize to a multitude of people for my utter lack of social skills last week. I opened a show during the mornings (and it's going well; I press buttons on cue and various sounds occur) and worked box office during the evenings (and, hey there, all you impatient people who chose last week to see "The Trip to Bountiful"). I made it to the library once to pick up more movies/books that I do not have time for, spent basically all Saturday either at a show or manning the phones, and did not have my computer explode and/or decide to quit working forever. Monday was the first night in over a week when I had to fend for a meal (other than breakfast) at home, and I celebrated by forgetting about dinner altogether.

Sometimes my life in Houston is not all that different from my life in college. I do sleep more, though, which is another reason why people can't reach me (sorry, Caleb).

(mental note: didn't I promise at one point to talk about last week?)

I don't remember many of the details, except that the part of Sally was being played by the delightful Melissa, who really is perfect for the part, but I do remember waking up and instantly characterizing my dream as "You're a Good Man Charlie Brown" meets "Snakes on a Plane." That's totally a show I could get behind, like the version of "Mary Poppins" produced by Quentin Tarrantino that Meredith and I supposed late one night in London.

(but I'll possibly never turn him off again, so as to not repeat the near-exploding of this weekend)

There's something about chilling at your desk on the day off from work, removing music files from the computer to make more space that feels like I'm back at college, postponing a paper of some form.

more coming later, if Merv doesn't suddenly die on me

I mean it without all the normal sarcasim that would be generally linked to such a statement, but walking home from the bus stop last night in the pouring rain of a flash thunderstorm, the breeze twirling my skirt until it was as utterly soaked as the rest of me, was exactly what I needed at that moment.

(Rather late) new year's resolution: screw maturity, I'm going to play in the rain more. It apparently cures bad moods and headaches.

not related to anything in particular, just a general observation

Rule #1: The moment you get used to anything in life, it will change. Just because. The only thing not immune seems to be the taste of Tootsie Rolls, which have bumped up from deck crew to featured player this week in the TV version of my life.

Arrr....

I'm terribly exhausted right now, the kind of sleepy that sneaks up behind you while you sit at your desk, grabs you, and stuffs you in its trunk. Or causes you to write weird metaphors.

Anyway, today passed much more pleasant than I feared this morning, though that could be due to my using up all my angry points before even making it to work by (1) missing the proper bus, (2) having all other possible buses not show up on time (3) almost walking into work late on the day when everyone is present for company meeting.

After that (and having several people walk in after myself), the rest of the day was pretty dang sunshine-y. I had a charming conversation about shark attacks, spent some quality time in the breakroom of our other office building, ate my soup cup while walking between locations, survived dress rehearsal, had someone think I was making the whole "Talk Like a Pirate Day" thing up ("But they have a website!"), enjoyed sit down time for dinner and gossip, learned I didn't need blacks for SMing in the Rotunda, handled the show with only one major sound flub (caused by a silly actor changing his line), and gained a new purse and a new penpal letter.

I also need to type up my production meeting notes, plan out my packing for tomorrow, stop eating all these confounded Tootsie Rolls, figure out when my phone minutes end, and sleep. Some of these things are more important than others.

No time to talk like a pirate

(...or clean my desk, or probably eat a proper dinner tonight, or a multitude of other things.)

Technically, it's just a preview, but there's enough of an audience (more than five!) to consider tonight the opening of my first professional children's theater show. I am excited to pull out the blacks again, yet nervous about accidentally screwing up a sound cue of some form.

Other things to do today: smooth my way through a potentially weird conversation, run a production meeting, live through the final dress rehearsal (plus, given the amount of time scheduled, do some spot polishing), find time to print up all the paperwork from yesterday per my assigned day, mail a birthday card, start working on part two of a birthday gift (because I get too many ideas and then have no time for follow-thru), and sleep. Some parts of this will be easier than others.

Time for breakfast before I have no time for breakfast.

The Return

Glory hallelujah: internet!

A quick note before I hunt down a bus, again:

Once upon a time, I had internet at home. It was amazing. It was glorious.

It lasted less than a week.

Last night, which is more recent than that "upon a time" nonsense, it told me I was lacking magic wishing dust. And had an invalid IP address. Only one of those things could I really control seeing as I knew exactly where my spare collection of magic wishing dust resided, having received a complimentary supply when the woodland creatures deal fell through.

I let the world know so they can help. I let the world know so they understand when I don't post or answer email or recommend any more addicting games. I let the world know because that has a tendency to fix things with more frighteningly quick magic than any powder to conjure and I quickly got used to looking things up on IMDb again.

Two (no, Three!) further semi-sorta-related subjects

I just left a phone message so idiotic I immediately turned my phone off afterward, just in case the receiver tried to call back and question my sanity.

It occurs to me that when I run into the mean reds (such as I have most of this week) I now have a Tiffany and Co. just down the street within walking and Pop-Tart eating distance.

I'm trying to track down the exact wording of that quote from "Devil Wears Prada" about how you know your professional life is going well when your personal life falls apart, but I'd rather go to sleep.

back to the lab

One great flaw in my theory that, in general, theater people should not date other theater people remains that the only other available option ("non-theater people") are somewhat lacking when it comes to the "understanding why theater should make anyone stressed" department.



(As a special note to my mother, in a preemptive sense: this ephiphany is not meant to imply that I'm dating anyone, theater, non-theater, or whatever inbetween exists, because I'm not and therefore need not be questioned on such.)

getting better as we go along

Today I had issues turning people into stone, gained flustered experience on the sound board, listened to the box office burst into song around me, ate my very first shrimp taco, and just went into an in-depth conversation to explain how one can become their own grandpaw.

about to be A Long Day

Does anyone mind if I go British for the next few hours? For some reason, I feel as if it will help.

cheez-its, chex mix, and gum

It occurs to me that I go through so much snack food not from being hungry but because I'm slightly obsessive about chewing something as often as possible. We all remember my need to chew items until my jaw almost cannot physically function while writing papers, right?

I share this trait with untrained puppies and small children, which are almost the same thing. No wonder Melissa likes me so much.

At least I'm updating at all, right?

I finally have all those picture frames up on my wall, which is a bigger deal than the sentence would suggest. There's also a few sheep on the wall, just because I cannot help my elementary school tendancies.

I was briefly perplexed with myself about why I would get doubles of photos of the jackalope adventuring, but now I just have craft projects. This'll be my first (of many, I'm sure) roll of film in Texas, and it'll be ready around the approximate time that I'll finish all my laundry, if I manage to convince myself to do that tonight. It's either tonight or Friday, and--while I've totally been the person using Friday night to stay in and do laundry--I'm not certain if I want to do that this week. (Not that I have alternate plans, but still.)

I'm stuck on filling out my intern questionnaire (sort of a Secret Santa sheet for the entire year) due to some of the questions. Favorite sandwich? Favorite family tradition? I can understand asking about colors and snacks and music, but who really needs to know "something you say all the time?" I put down my phone greeting: Thank you for calling the A.D. Players, this is Hannah. I hope whoever gets stuck with my sheet eventually has a similar sense of humor.

pro/con

The great thing about making a to-do list is you can organize everything that must be accomplished, therefore covering for any normal forgetting that comes from not writing everything down.

The bad thing about making a to-do list is you can fully see all the things you're not accomplishing in lieu of watching trailers on Apple.com for the first time in forever.

carne pusado dinner

Using the logic that this site is as much about documenting my life so I can click around later and see what was happening at a specific point as it is about letting people know what's going on currently, I'd like to state that I just got in for the evening.

(This post brought to you by David Bowie, breaking out the boots, a converted porch, a traffic violation or two, and Taco Cabana's queso.

Sweet blessed heavens! I have internet at home, in my room!



Allow me to now go and try to remove the giant pile of cords making this possible to another location. One less likely to cause accidents in the middle of the night, if possible.

me, again

If Verizon won't let me pay my cellphone bill, no matter what options I choose from the website, that means I don't actually have to pay, right?

I'm not dead, I'm just not posting. We're starting tech, and tech will continue until next week, and then we open. You might get to hear from me consistantly then. Or not. The internet that was supposed to be all throughout our apartment is actually only in the living room, until we purchase some techno-whosit that will reroute it to the rest of the apartment. Perhaps we'll fix our TV reception at the same time.

I want lunch. It's Friday.

Things in life, and How to deal

Things I'm displeased with right now:
* the hot water suddenly deciding not to work in the shower
* the still white-ness of my walls
* this piece of gum

How dealt, thus far:
* called the apartment people
* working on frames and all sorts of hanging madness
* will soon spit out, or swallow

I'm free until Monday, which is nice, except that we still won't have internet until Thursday and our TV choices currently consist of static and more static, so I may end up at the theater on Labor Day, just to do email and such. Otherwise, I'd like to think a bunch of the eliminating of white walls will occur over the weekend, as well as repainting the headboard on my bed. Did I mention I finally had a bed? I have a bed, and it's a little short, and I need pillows to simply use it as a couch most of the time, but these are all fixable things now that I actually possess the bed.

Life is humid, but life is good.

more bits and pieces

This isn't me specifically, but it is a pic of the TAA-DA costume I so recently donned for a birthday party (further proving the theory that interns get to do all sorts of things beyond the actually job description). I scared the birthday girl, a charming three year-old named Ava.

In further evening of the world, I found the $20 graduation check that I thought had been lost to a JC apartment void and had already proven to myself wasn't in the exact place where I found it last night.

The box office is totally not going to be back online by tomorrow (unless this statement jinxes that and it isn't jinxed back by mentioning the potential jinx), but that's still what I'm telling people.

Restarting a hobby I haven't held since about fifth grade, Paul Rundle is my new penpal. I need to buy some stickers.

Jessica and her family found me a desk. As in, I came home to the apartment, walked into my room, and there was the world's most perfect desk in the middle of the otherwise empty room. In other furniture news, I've been playing incredible phone tag with my bed and am in talks for assorted small tables/drawer things.

Just a quick note to the other person (of the two) who had to hear about my wretched evening: everything's going to be fine.

Cellphones

I keep missing calls because I forget to turn the phone off vibrate once I leave work, and I apparently can't tell the difference between the bus and my phone shaking.

Due to the above, I have a message from yesterday evening. It was quite delightful, but that still doesn't mean I want the "new voicemail" icon living on my main screen until forever. I have thus listened, first, to this message several times, then, to all my messages several times in a futile attempt to Make the Icon Go Away.

I think the only solution is to wait for another message and hope, with its listen, the phone will finally figure out that I'm well aware that the nice boy called me, and can't we all move on with life now? I therefore look forward to the jostling bus ride tonight, the interceptor of all my would-be cellphone conversation.

2425 Sage Road Apt. 69

I have an apartment. I am a little excited. There was jumping and loud sounds involved.

"Honey, if we didn't act like this, I couldn't stand to be in this office."

Last night I dreamed that everyone (as in, I don't remember who was there) got together to hold a production meeting as to the state of my life. How to solve a problem like Hannah, if you will. I think I need to stop dwelling on general life issues before I fall asleep, or cut back some sugar or something.

Seriously, I was working on all sorts of posts before my life became all about pre-production paperwork, leasing paperwork, reworking the bus schedule to make it to my rehearsals in a different building, and trying to get music off Merv so he isn't as slow. You'd think at least some of those things would be conduitive to drafting, but you'd be mostly wrong. Sorry.

flowers on my desk, delivered with a fake British

I think my "it's complicated" just became more so.

In other news, I'm so close to finishing all this apartment nonsense that I'm ready to tell people it's actually finished...before half the paperwork has gone through. This is totally happening, and I'm thrilled.

today, in the box office

Everything I could do wrong I have done so. Everything I've done wrong in the past has come up to haunt me. I'm half tempted to skip lunch and go home early, but I'm too hungry.

Why, yes, I actually have a multitde of other things I've been meaning to post, but this'll do for now.

Just now, describing the plot of "Smoke on the Mountain," to a woman on the phone:

ME: ...so the family mainly plays their instruments and sings their songs, but often hijinks ensue.
HER: What was that? That last part?
ME: (slower) Hijinks ensue.
HER: What ensue? Spell that.
ME: (wishing had used a different word) H-I-J-I-N-K-S.
HER: H-I-J-N-K-S? What are you trying to say?
ME: *Craziness* ensues...
HER: OH! Okay.
ME: Sorry. That was me using an English major word.

Pollyanna, as always

I was originally and legitimately upset when I sliced my finger open while stuffing packets--baby's first papercut at the new job--but it's since proved to be worthwhile, since I can do any manner of folding, stuffing, and sealing without worrying about further cuts.

Plus, band-aids are always great for conversation, especially when you have a collection of them like myself.

Not that I've finished checking....

It looks like no matter how we try and pull it, we might as well stay at Plantation, eat the $whatever to ride the bus, and enjoy the fact that we don't have to think about how much electricity we're using as the building pays for it for us. Everywhere else a 2B/1B won't cover that particular utility and therefore will end up costing just as much or more as the huge 2B/1B that will. Okay then.

Why must it be Monday again?

For my own personal benefit (as I'll see this and then perhaps be prompted to do some of the items listed), things I need to do:

* balance my checkbook
* complete the direct deposit paperwork
* put together a rough draft of my theater bio
* watch "Eternal Sunshine" so I can get the hankering to watch "Eternal Sunshine" out of my system
* look at more apartment info
* seperate my brain from my heart, at least briefly
* email Jessica back
* stop working on reading books until after I've completed some of the other stuff (currently reading "Fever," a Peggy Lee bio)
* burn CDs
* put together birthday-ness and other assorted craft projects for the end of the week (yeah! let's finish this stuff!)

a cry for help, as it were

I know, I know. I should'nt have gone into the store in the first place. I should've ignored the fact that it was on massive (75% off) sale. I never should've tried on the dress that looked like a ballerina wanted to go clubbing (just perfect for Hannah quirk). I need to stop buying red dresses.


Also, as much as I keep trying to get all classy-like (trust me, I tried on plenty of classy things before the chosen one, even some without polka dots), I seem to fail. "Ballerina wanted to go clubbing?" Am I serious? (Yes, yes I am. And it's quite cute. But I still didn't need to buy it.)

I don't actually have anything to post, but I feel like I need to move away from Wednesday, even if it's only a minor lapse in time.

Any grand ideas on why I keep waking up around six a.m., or even better, five a.m.? Because I'd like to fix that.

junebugs, but no kittens

It was while watching the current mainstage again tonight that I realized one of the pictures on the fake church wall was the same print of Jesus in the garden referenced by a good portion of my English senior seminar project.

one of the ways to my heart, behind good music, movies, and pickles

Today I bantered on the following subjects with the then following people:

* the use of the company wall of pictures as an instant key to learning names, followed by an impromptu quizzing on said names and recommendations for the personal bio (“it looks like you mention all the good roles you’ve ever done and jump to thanking your family”); with Luke from the shop, who is more than okay with not having his picture up on the wall yet

* the inability to work new technology on the first try purely based on previous experiences with similar technology, as in working the company microwave; with the head honcho of it all, Mrs. JC George, who then filled me in on her lack of abilities with computers, too (“He didn’t realize that my saying ‘stupid computer’ was actually a reflection of myself…”)

* the possibility of my parents getting lost forever in the woods and/or being eaten by a wild creature, followed by a list of their supplies (“’We’re headed into the wilderness! We must stock up on cheddar!’”); with my brother, who saw them last

* the best method of surviving and thriving in the midst of a zombie attack, (“Nah, don’t worry about calling a source in Missouri, you don’t even have to leave the state. Or the loop.”) a subject which I suppose I know more about than many would guess; with the fiancé of one roommate, who originated it all by asking about my current reading

My favorite single quote of the day, made all the more ridiculous coming from the very proper head of development (on the seven new female interns vs. the four new male interns): “Those poor girls! They’ll never have a chance at getting married. I guess that’s why there’s outside dating.”

lunch break

It's my hour to use as I please, but I still feel a little guilt for trolling the internet (more specifically, facebook) on my lunch hour while I can hear phones ringing and people attempting to figure out issues with the new box office server.

I'm carrying a pen in my hair again.

Life and work is going well, for those of you who didn't receive an update phone call this weekend. (If you aren't family, you probably didn't get a call. Two exceptions come from the "Melissa Basically Is Family Clause" and Lemon Drop hearing about the creepy guy who tried to pick me up on the bus. Lemon Drop, as he personally pointed out, used to be the not-actually-creepy guy who would fake-hit on me, so this was also appropriate. Also some people just technically called me first before I could make up a fake rule to justify talking to them. End digression.)

I won't begin rehearsals until August 23, though I have my first production meeting tomorrow, so I've been put to use in the box office. Today I got over my fears of answering the phone by doing so all day and only retreating to the back to briefly check paperwork. (Side question: Should I be alarmed by my love of filing? I think it stems from all that early exposure to the Dewey Decimal system and reshelving--thanks librarian mother.) I transfer calls, sell tickets, give out what might be proper directions to places, and generally use all the charm I have to mask my frustration when people can't just pick a seat already jeez. I need to fill out my bio sheet so someone in PR will know to schedule a brief photo shoot so my picture can go on the wall of current employees. I also need some advice as to what credits to include and how to look (with special attention to my hair, as I never know what to do with it besides use it to hold writing utensils.)

I'm sort of dizzy in a "can't believe I'm here" way, my reactions slowed as I sit by a pool, doubting that their 5' mark actually reaches 5' (ignoring the obvious way to find out) and wondering how long the tropical variety flowers will bloom: Just this month? Past Halloween? Up to Christmas?

I have made friends and have a consistant ride to work. I have ridden the bus to work as prep for the bus ride to church (though it did not prepare me for anyone--creepy or otherwise--to the the vulnerable moment of being stuck on public transportation wearing a skirt and heels as an invitation for phone number solicitation. I apologize for any and all names, personal details, and/or vaguely amusing stories that may be offered to strangers as fake proof that I'm off the market until I have time to purchase a bit of strategically placed bling as a defensive move. "You caught my eye, if you know what I mean"--please, buster. Sit on your side of the bench and stop staring at my legs as you try to find the perfect line to make me instantly hand over my phone number. Rant over.)

I have a bed, which is beyond exciting, especially to consider that I'm receiving with the frame the "good" matress (as described by the current owner). On top of that, the bed apparently might need a paint job, a thought which reappeared in my brain the moment the book's narrator mentioned his furniture painting classes that had led to painting odd things, like socks, on desks. So now I want to paint socks on my soon-to-be-mine bed. (There should be sufficient time between now and actually taking possession of the bed for this to leave my system. Or gain a diagram.)

My cellphone tells me it's handled over sixty phone calls in the past week, all without being named (I keep coming back to Rufus, but it's too blue to be a true Rufus) and most when I didn't have to pay for them...which, I suppose, is exactly why I paid for what I paid for. The temperature is currently lower humidity than usual and someone just turned the light on in a room at the top of the Meritz. I'm basically out of paper and a bird is singing in the first tree I've fallen in love with yet.

Perhaps I'm more slightly dizzy as I realize I haven't eaten since lunch at one and seven hours is, bouncy metabolism and all, quite some time to not refuel.

Apparently some people actually go to movies to see quality.

The more I talk to people about "Snakes on a Plane" (and *of course* I'm talking to people about "Snakes on a Plane," though I do attempt to be casual when I bring it up), the more I realize the majority of people around me think it's ridiculous and refuse to see it when it comes out (or ever). I think it's ridiculous, too, but that's precisely why I want to see the confounded thing in all it's bad movie glory.

*BZZZZZ!*

This cellphone's vibrate feature must have a bit more kick to it than my old phone because I totally jump every single time it goes off, whether I'm expecting a call or not.

things saved on my phone

I have a delightful Memo Pad feature on my phone that has aided in my "let's not write so much on your hand, Hannah, now that you're an adult." (It's a fleeting plan, but still.) So, here's a list of things I keep forgetting to do/mention/etc. because they're saved on my phone and not my skin:

* call the cheap, cheap landlord for possibilites

* tell my Mom I might get to use my mascot experience in the real world

* this theater apparently works like CBC and Cru - you might start single, but you probably won't leave single

* already, I am in the midst of office politics. Thank you, box office ladies (and Mr. Marion)!

* I found a closer Coldstone. It's across the street in the mall. I kinda don't want to move based on that, too.

* the outdoor theatre is performing Titus Andronicus this week

* the Houston Theatre District will host an open house later in August

* I wish I'd had a Sonic Brownie Blast when it was offered to me because I crave it a little with each commercial.

(beyond the humidity)

Further solidifying the fact that I live in Texas now: the brief conversation at work about whether we would shut down during a hurricane or not. Greetings, tropical storm Chris!

why am I watching Cool Runnings?

I finally have had my official first day of work, and I would say more but I'm on the phone with Melissa. So too bad.

saved by the buoyancy of citrus!*

*has nothing to do with this post


I've taken my last of the poison ivy pills, I have a new cellphone (must geek out on the owner's manual, then start calling everyone with the number), ate my first Mexican meal in Texas, possibly found a church, lost one roommate and thus the nice apartment, (yet!) probably solved the entire roommate dilemna, and is still no closer to being ready to be on my own.

Maybe if I had a bed.

Why Texas has turned me into a morning person is beyond me.

I'd like to say a big "howdy" to hose who felt the need to pop up in my very bizarre, somewhat facebook-influenced dreams last night:

* Chicago Mike
* Steve
* other Steve
* Lily from band

Also, a special thanks for the guest appearance of the Crabman from "My Name is Earl" (and his fro) for showing the mermaid mom how to help her kids take pride in themselves. (Don't ask.)

I am going back to sleep. See more of you soon.

And, to think, I actually tried to write something in the car.

I am in Texas.

I am trying not to freak out about life.

I am incredibly sleepy, despite sleeping most of the day.

I am still planning on calling some people tonight, and should therefore get started.

(I am somewhat afraid I might cry on some people, however, due to all of the above.)



I am ready for the magic transition to hit where I suddenly feel completely secure in where I am and what's going on.

Anytime, please.

on a lighter note

I just can't justify purchasing an mp3 player when I'm about to live on less than $1000/mo. Does anyone want to gift me? (Remember, I'm normally much more charming and wonderful than the previous post would dictate.)

sometimes I just shouldn't post

I don't have an actual post I want to put here, mostly because I'm too moody and grouchy and tired and all sorts of you-don't-actually-want-to-read-them emotions. So there.

(Yes, it'll help when I'm settled. And busy. Like usual. Jeez, I'm in a mood.)


In other, less-raging news, I keep finding things I didn't realize I had and then have to find a new box to put them in since I already filled the box they would've gone in if, say, I'd found that stack of books in time.

obligations

I feel like I should blog up something, since I'm online and everything, but I'm busy posting captions and half thinking about what I should start packing once I sadly go back home again, so this is the best y'all will get.

Someone needs to save me from (A) Facebook and (B) this stupid fly.

Uploading pictures from the European Adventure (still) is proceeding quickly, though I'll have to fight through posting descriptions. Especially after accidentially deleting some while in Wyoming. (Hey, at least I got new music in return.) After taking a pause due to Wyoming, a potential craft project has been sadly derailed (again), now by copier technology. Copy machines, I thought you were my friends. We've had many fun times collating together and now you turn petty, all over my attempting to copy from color. It just took me five tries to spell the word "color." Perhaps I'm simply a bit off due to the supreme lack of sleep last night. Ice cream, popcorn, movie theatres, gin rummy, organized card cheating, and finally seeing all six Star Wars movies: all accomplished last night. Also last night, feeling the side effects of my new poison ivy medicine. Apparently if you have poison ivy for about two weeks solid, doctors get worried and decide you might need some additional assistance beyond the standard shelf stuff. I did get to see some locals while in Sullivan (the Miller girls now say hi to whoever might know them), which was nice. Plus, I got to add to my collection of jackalope pictures, which will someday be posted on Facebook. After I finish posting London-Dublin.


(POSTSCRIPT - it frightens me how easily that circled around. Must go home to sleep. And write captions. And try to re-start crafts.)

an observation from the couch

You are never as fully aware of someone's presence as when they've drifted off to sleep next to you. Somehing in their utter lack of self-consciousness (they're asleep and not at all aware of limbs, breathing, life) makes he same take on an extra weight with the person who sees it all.

I have seen the moo-cows.

I've also seen plenty of horsies, birds, deer of various forms, and a small crowd of goats just outside Columbia. One night, I swear I heard the lonely sound of a single jackalope singing in the mountains surrounding my brother's city. It's been a good week for wildlife.

It's been, however, a bad week for flora, as I'm currently engulfed in poison ivy. First thing back project for tomorrow: head to Sullivan and see the doctor. Perhaps receive a nice big shot or two. Stop feeling itchy and crawly and all manner of disgusting to mankind. This would be nice if it could happen before Wednesday evening.

Also, I have one fingernail I can't chew off because there's ivy too close and the nail has been doused in medicine. This is legitimately driving me insane. I've never wanted to chew off a fingernail so much in my life. All further proof that I'm nine, I guess. And I was getting so used to being thirteen.

Why must everyone's* phone lines be busy?

Excellent Mongolian lunch of noodles and veggies and all manner of grilled pineapple on top means that I'm actually hungry again now, as anyone (Meredith) who saw me eat a giant pile of food and mention a need for more food twenty minutes after paying the bill can attest. Metabolism fun all around.

If only those carmel brownies were already finished, I could eat about 1/3 of those and be full again.

We leave crazy early for Wyoming tomorrow morning, and I'm tempted to stay up all night posting pictures, messing around, etc. on the computer tonight rather that attempt to fall asleep three-five hours before I actually feel sleepy, just to get a full night in. I guess if I post again, that means it happened. Or I got bored.


*not actually "everyone" everyone

it's for reasons like this that I have a cellphone

This just terribly freshly in: I have a place to live in August, and potentially the entire internship!

(Positive for the rest of you: it's been currently housing four people, so there must be plenty of room for visitors.)

cue The Coasters

I have poison ivy for the first time ever in my life. Yes, dear children, after miraculously coming out un-ivied during the summer I spent gypsy mothing, I've now gained a few spots of ivy from hanging with my mother.

At least I'm lucky enough not to have it anywhere inconvenient. I mean, it's not like I use my left hand for anything.

"It's not a cat, but it's a mean one!"

After a rousing two hours of Catch Phrase with the cousins (and etc.), it's probably time to go to bed. And also apply aloe, because I think I still managed to get burned when I was at the pool and the sun suddenly decided it didn't want to come outside anymore for awhile.

If it wasn't Saturday night and therefore a touch more awkward than trying to call people on non-weekend nights, I'd probably phone all sorts of people and try to sort things out. Nothing in particular, just things.*



(*that's totally Hannah talk for "something, but I feel like being vague")

...

I'm in Iowa, my cousin is waiting for the computer, I haven't seen any cows yet, but I did see some horsies before we left MO and made some detours into Nebraska and elsewhere (apparently - I was quite asleep and therefore off my regular sleep schedule once more). Tomorrow: perhaps cows for finally?

post #1331 - where eventually I'll turn English major

I feel obligated to post again, seeing as I'm once more online and therefore not doing other things, such as calling people who apparently miss me. Such is apparently what I'll do this afternoon.

I've finished my college scrapbook, which means I should move on to Euro Adventure. I've found better photo hosting online (yeah, no monthly post limit!), so I'll soon have all the Euro Adventure pictures up ... or, would if I was going to continue being at the library all the time. I have to repost everything I've done so far, and I want to take the captions with me. Since I'm spending next week in Iowa, though, I imagine life will feature more cows and corn, less internet and picture CDs. (Life will also feature more cousins, fireworks, food, shopping, family stories, long road hours, and perhaps some Pirates, but everyone always wants to hear about the cows.)

The library is offering free hot dogs (there was a special event yesterday and apparently they have overstock), and I'm hungry. I'm going to celebrate the palindrone post with pig. (Then I get in alliteration, also. Awesome!)

maybe I'll just say "screw it" and stay here

Less than ten minutes in, and I'm already tired of trying to find an apartment. I want to be able to go look at them and not simply rely on pictures. I want a roommate situation to be actually settled before I get my heart set on anything. There are times when I don't even want to go, just for a flash, until I remember that I really really really want this job AND my parents would kill me if I stayed, instantly cancelling out my staying. Plus, I'm not a fan of death.

July is going to go past so quickly, even without all the traveling we'll pull for the month, so sooner is better in this hunt. But, bleck.

It's through my would-be boyfriend, IMDB, that I now know the uncle from "Napolean Dynamite" is also Broots from "The Pretender."

I've been online three days in a row: do I think I'm back at college or something?

Anyway, July scheduling is finally falling together, until it comes streaming apart once more [sometime this afternoon, perhaps]. How things currently stand:

* AIDA tonight at the Muny

* mini road trip tomorrow to Columbia which, through my appearance on the trip, will now include mini golf

* somehow appear in St. Charles on Saturday for Meredith's party, followed by

* annual Sunday school picnic in Sullivan (after ducking out of JC Sunday morning service early)

* journeying around Iowa, starting Monday, and ending with a family reunion at the end of the week

* briefly home again until the 13th, then a quick (leave there the 17th) trip to Wyoming

* maybe see Huey's show the 21st?

Then it's just a matter of moving down to Texas, which might turn into a "family trip" now that Wyoming involves a smaller group of travelers. The fun never stops around here.

Choose!

On personal experience alone, I'm gonna have to go with duct tape. It's nothing against her, I just haven't seen Meryl Streep do anything amazing for me lately.

Life is pretty good, and I'm even in a skirt. Today I almost picked out accessories and everything. Wednesdays are nice.

I've forgotten everything I wanted to write.

* I'm officially due in Texas on August 1st, so perhaps I should be visiting some people?

* I've recently fallen in love with the first ring of the telephone, which is done in triplicate (for each single phone) before they join together in chorus on ring #2. That was slightly complicated for an irrational love.

* I'm sorry that I hardly post anymore.

* On the plus side, I'm almostly completely through scrapbooking my college years and can then focus back on that tiny trip. Yikes.

* If anyone would like to sell me a car, that'd be grand.

* There's a post I'm trying to put together about Gershwin and thunderstorms, but it won't come out right. Yet.

to quote: "I recognize my flabby arms."

I thought she was quite crazy, but that does indeed seem to be our group of people waiting to sit inside and wait in the Muny free seats.

Mid picture, right after the light in the dirt patch, starting with the lady in dark red and her now quote-worthy "flabby arms."

I like how I only offer real news occassionally anymore.

Unlike at school, I'm never concerned with the shower curtain. The zombies are much too picky to try and set up shop in the apartment.

The thought that I might move by August 1 saddens me if only because that'll lessen the chances I see "Snakes on a Plane" with people who will appreciate it the same way I will.

(this morning) MOM: Are you ever going to blog about your trip?
ME: Huh, I guess I'll eat a popsicle afterall.

Anyway, some messing around and a new knowledge of foreign QWERTY settings (mainly, @ and " switching locations) leads me to the grand conclusion that Toulouse is actually European. Guess it's good I named him such instead of "Bob" or whatever.

everyone might as well give up on hearing anything else about the trip

Spreading it throughout my various web locales, and about to send out the mass email, but hear it is: I got the job. I'm the next stage management intern for the A.D. Players and I'll move to Houston, Texas at the end of the summer. And, apparently, a bunch of people plan on road tripping to see me (already!), so maybe y'all can all carpool together. Feel free to work out a plan.

I've cleared out my TruView, apparently the final step of any Truman graduate. There's something unspeakably depressing about clearing out four years of your life in under half the time granted by the library's computer sharing system. I'll actually be even more so upset if they finally grant everyone to keep their Truman account (which I know the alumni associate is looking into as it's a more convenient way for them to ask us for money) and I deleted things.

Anyway, on the positive side, I've probably stalled enough that they've finally reshelved the movie I was after upstairs. Yay, Serenity!

further ignoring the time plan and pre-written posts

I'm in Missouri AND Jeff City, so I'm officially Done With This Trip. Perhaps there should be italics too, as in Done With This Trip, but that's probably pushing it.

Also, I'm still jetlagged. But it's more like jetlagged.

Hee hee, fonts are fun.


Anyway, back in the realm of normal thought: I'm sad the trip is over, yet happy that I'm no longer jetting around foreign countries and eating fancy meals in-between scouting out historical and vaguely-historical locations. Like, in a non-sarcastic way. My last cash drop for this trip will be paying for film developing, and if anyone wants to bet on how much it costs to develop fourteen rolls of film (plus CD and some with doubles), I'd hate to hear such things in advance. I'll post the final count, and someone can let me know who wins the pot so I know who to hit up for the 10% commission. This will help pay my credit card bill when it arrives.

Pictures will be forthcoming. Stories will spill out randomly as they spew from my mind, unattached to any other thought process.

breaking the carefully constructed order

It's the same day the post (should) say it is, May 27th, though my watch and the computer agree about the "just after nine" status you Midwesterners won't see for, oh, six hours. Anyway. I simply, and in short for time constraints terms, must crow about my real life Bono miracle of seeing the U2 frontman in Temple Bar yesterday evening after realizing the tourism camera/cellphone frenzy must mean something more than the weird guy with the guitar was back. He was enjoying a pint, he was enjoying the attention, he was wearing the sunglasses.

Then we left and saw "Brick" at the Irish Film Institute, which I think should be seen by anyone who has even the most basic knowledge of film noir. It's as fabulous as people say it is. I just ended a sentence with a preposition.

We jet out of the city tomorrow for small town Ireland, Wexford, followed by "Church Day, Pub Night" on Tuesday. I love theming.

have I mentioned how hard it is to get to a computer?

A love letter

5-20-06, 12:46 a.m.

I realize we haven't known each other for long, and I'm not the type of girl who normally does such things--talk to, well, anyone--but we don't have much time and....Really, the point is, I love you. There, I said it. I love all of you, London, from your freezing, rainy mornings with everyone's umbrella raised as they dodge traffic to the hole-in-the-wall restaurants so fab they'd be bustling with diners anywhere smaller. It might be that vastness I love best--how you cover everything from the deeply historical (your serious, brainy side) to they kitschy and lights factor (the playful part I already inhabit so well.)

"Where did this come from?" I hear you ponder, "What was the grand breaking point?" \truly, it happened this evening, dodging traffic and pedestrians in Piccadilly. We'd finished The Crucible (where--don't be jealous--I also fell for the set's lift-the-flap type workings) and poured out into a slight rain, just enouch for slower walkers to pull out umbrellas. The lights, the night, the heaping plate of noodles resting in my tummy met in a cosmic event and the abiding joy within me meant one thing. I never want to leave.

So, what do you say? BF/GF?