one last last thing (or, how can the watch I've been wearing for over a year give me a rash now?!)

I wanted to get one last thing down before the year popped out. Even if it's how I want to try and live my life for 2010 (and beyond), it was a 2009 epiphany. I've been fighting so much this year (some on, most off the blog) trying to figure out where I want to be, what I want to be doing, what I want want want. But the important thing isn't figuring out what I want, it's discovering what God needs from my life. If I, Hannah, want something out of life that doesn't gel with God's plan for me, I don't want to want that anymore.

Of course, the harder part is separating my wants from His needs. But at least I now have a mantra to go to when my brain starts getting jumbled: not what I want/what You need.

gurgle gurgle blizzard

It's (of course!) only now that I remember all the Soup Labels for Education (TM) that I've been saving for the past six months...still sitting in the kitchen drawer.

Semi-related (as I would only be bringing the labels somewhere if it were northland to family/teacher people): I'm a little concerned that my mother seems to think my flight lands at 11:50, as it'll actually be on the ground forty minutes earlier (pending actual ability to fly tonight). The Kansas City Airport is one of the coldest places I've ever been (probably because it's all breathtaking--and draft inducing--windows). I'm packing all sorts of layers, as we might just drive straight from the airport to Iowa, but that doesn't mean I want to use them.

P.S. - Thanks, Texas, for the excellent help you've provided in getting me ready for northern weather. That sudden burst of seventy degrees days will really come in handy.

per usual whenever I write something in a hurry, blogger ate the first version of this post

This is the year that I became crappy at posting. It's also the first year I haven't had internet access outside of work (up until now with the laptop meets food court). Find your own corrolation.

As this might be my last post of December, 2009, and the current decade, I decided to do something different from my usual end of the year list. (Unrelated: how great is Switchfoot's "Hello Hurricane?" Call that the music of version two of this post.) Here I present my year in quotes:

JANURAY
Never point the mace at the face. It rhymes, so don't do it. -Will, fight rehearsal

FEBRUARY
I could handle an arranged marriage with Jesse. I’d kill him and remarry. -Kat (there's probably a better option, but it made me giggle more than a little)

MARCH
What if Wilbur is like Pinocchio and he learns to be a real boy and grows up into the Narrator? -Marty, Charlotte's Web character rehearsal

APRIL
Ta-Daa has brought both joy and fear to kids and that was my plan. -Paul

MAY
All we need is a little raid, spray down the spider, speed this along... -Jen, the director herself, a bit tired of Charlotte's Web

JUNE
You know who else didn’t pause for the flood? Everyone else on Earth besides Noah.
-Michael, ASM for the rainbow show, as an actor refused to pause for a sound cue again

JULY
TRAVIS: Hey, Hannah...London!
HANNAH: [bounces up and down] (pre-trip)

AUGUST
Let me tell you about Ric... -Lee, post-Spotlighter, and all in the delivery

SEPTEMBER
We all speak in sarcasm; it’s a spiritual gift these days.
Amen! -Will/Stormy

OCTOBER
I’m not far along enough to be un-pregnant. -Natalie

NOVEMBER
I'm in my stompin' boots! -Hannah

DECEMBER
Eat that, global warming! -Stormy, playing in Houston snow

fortunately, I have spare pants at the other theater

Today's strange, covering-all-sorts-of-tasks-I-don't-normally-do day has culminated with me as the house manager for tonight's Mainstage show, which is why I'm still sitting at the theater at quarter past nine. (What's that? You mean you didn't even remember that you were working tonight, Hannah? So much for tonight's to-do list!) I am making use out of the boots that normally live under my desk, so that's a plus.

If anyone wants a full pot of regular coffee, I apparently made an extra one for no good reason. Please arrive within the next ten minutes, or it'll be gone down the sink.

In other, related to yesterday's not-posted post news, I guess I'm better. My head's in a strange place right now (and the holidays, in a way, don't help as they make me think of home and not being in Texas). If I ever have time again to draft up a less emo-y version, I'll let other people know what's going on. Look for that around February, the rate I'm going.

The good side of working in the evening (when you didn't prepare for it)? I ate shrimp tacos for dinner, and they were perfect.

too many thoughts in the head

Instead of typing up the (incredibly emo) post I create this morning while sitting in meetings, I give you something (with very little extra explanation) that will only make sense to a select few. Here you go, Mom, Grandma, and Aunt L!







It was okay.

I have a bunch of little blog-lettes written, but I'm still in the theater lobby (and not near my book)

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! I am probably going to celebrate by doing laundry at eight in the morning (when my lovely biological clock wakes me up again, like usual). Someone in Kansas City, please eat some celery sticks with cream cheese for me.

(changed my mind, different post enclosed)

Today's tech/dress went very well, though I hadn't expected the cue to cue (or Q2Q, as the cool kids abbreviate it) to last quite as long as it did. (I'm not sure why; typically [for the Rotunda, at least] you should expect about time and a half of the show length to work through Q2Q, and that's about what we did. /end weird punctuation) I'm somewhat at the point where I don't know how "good" the show is. I can tell whether the actors are having an on day, if the audience is with us, and whether I've hit all my cues properly. But this point forward, I can't read the overall quality level of the show. We had great reaction from the designers, though, so I'll assume things are going as well as know these people (actors/playwright/director/designers) can pull together.

Unrelated (per usual): some places have already started listing their Black Friday deals, and that's most of why I'm posting this three hours after I left my rehearsal.

I know it's tech week and all...

...but if I'm not actually stressed (because, in the scheme of things, I'm not), then why is the knot on my back slowly growing into an enormous monster? Back off, Leroy!

per tradition, I need to change my facebook to tech week hair

I keep working on the London thing, but I should probably bow to the inevitable and write it out of order, since I really want to write about the trips themselves and not (as I'm trying to force myself to do) figuring out how I became so obsessive about the city in the first place.

I somehow stopped chewing my nails during last tech week, but I don't see that happening again this show. Also, I have an entire page of lines I haven't even looked at since the first read-through.

Apologies to the Righteous Brothers, but I like "Unchained Melody" better as a piano instrumental than as an R&B classic. (And yes, my ipod has found it's way to the Lorie Line CD I was given ages ago.)

My phone plays the Other-Father Coraline song whenever a text comes in, which--in my job--makes for a dance party every five minutes.

Also, if anyone wants a paper Coraline or circus mouse, I apparently have such skills in my arsenal now.

In "who knew it would ever happen?" news, I've actually stumbled upon an old, annoying-to-work-with item the theater's technical director *will* let me set on fire. (He always says no to the set pieces, but old speakers are apparently okay.) Of course, since it was always part of the bit that he never said yes, I've never considered where I'd set fire to a piece of theater equipment that had finally ended its time with us.

I don't know what someone who whistles/honks/shouts out something while driving past me at the bus stop expects me to do. Is it just menfolk reasserting themselves as menfolk, or did Jerry Seinfeld have it right and I'm supposed to chase after them?

I've been workshopping (mostly in my brain) a post thing about my love of London (somewhat inspired by Will's multi-post series about his life in theater). The problem with such things, however, is the extended time thinking about London isn't good for my general health as it leads down the rabbit hole of wanting to move there/can't move-still working here/maybe I don't want to stay then/blah blah blah that isn't helpful when you're recovering from a mild illness. (I'm better, btw, though annoyed that I couldn't at least get sick on a day when I could stay home.)

Have I mentioned to anyone that the managing director is trying to convince me that I want to stage manage the New Year's Eve show? Because that was my favorite part of stuck-at-work-sick Monday. (Incidentally, the answer to that was "no, seriously no, please go away before I sneeze on you no.")

5:29 MON OCT 26

I'm really only still here, at work, because I'm trying to kill enough time for my parents to be home. I've been a bad (and sometimes zoo-busy) daughter and not gotten a call in for a few weeks, which also puts a halt on trying to formulate vacation plans.

I could feel it in my knee all day Sunday that I'd been up and down as Ta-Daa, trying to show the younger, somewhat more anxious children that the big bug could be a small(er) bug, too.

If I can refrain from anything resembling modesty for the moment, also, I'd like to mention that I rocked out to Thriller this weekend. Something about seeing the choreography before (and being able to move away from the clingy children) must have made a difference. Imagine that!

My Halloween costume won't be settled until I actually make a trip to the costume shop (as in, the free one at the theater) and see what I can pick up for the cheap.

That should be long enough.

I am not actually here.

Seriously, every person who steps into my office and tries to make conversation with me has been informed that I am--clearly--a figment of their imagination since Real Hannah has today off from working three shows, one partial rehearsal, and a morning in a bug suit.

It is really, really hard to keep up with Thriller choreography while you're inside a giant fuzzy suit that simultaneously draws small children toward you and blocks your ability to see them next to your ankles. Kid in the giraffe costume, perfectly doing the choreography while on stilts, you are my new hero.

Timmy Hawks Rock Star Skating Shoes 5000...SHOES!

After listening to three differnt versions of "Little Shop of Horrors" over the past two days, I've come to the official opinion that my favorite is the movie soundtrack. Supporting Ellen Greene while filling my love of Rick Moranis? Hurrah!

And, Melissa? MORAL! Breakfast is the most important meal of the day!

I am now going to take a seven minute nap in my office with all the pillows from Secret Garden.

I could eat Panda Express orange chicken until I fell over (though the falling over would likely be caused by my own malnutrition).

I like how I didn't really have anything to say, and thus made my subject line what could've been a semi-paragraph.

Also, I'm apparently only good at chopsticks when I'm not trying to type at the same time. Who knew?

bouncing sheep bolero

I'm somewhat too sleepy to leave work at the moment, as I'm not sure I'd make it to the proper bus (only slightly joking). I don't know where I went downhill during the day, but I guess it has something to do with falling asleep pre-10:30 last night (and thus waking up before seven today).

Last night I sat besides the pool for a good hour and pretended I was on the dock at a lake. Perhaps if the pool light had decided whether it wanted to be on or off (instead of flickering back and forth every ten minutes or so), I could've pretended more affectively.

I'm currently eating the end of the Jaffa Cakes Caleb bought while in London (and then gifted to me after--I guess--not caring for the chocolate/orange/crumbling crust flavor). I, on the other hand, cannot get enough of the jam-like orange center, and should use this time instead to find a way to procure more of the delightful cakes? cookies? lovelies? without a $700 plane ticket involved.

I refuse to believe that it's actually October...

...but I will happily take the new month paycheck anyway.

I've been blogging the old-fashioned way lately (I believe the grown-ups call it "writing in a journal"), just to unload a bunch of thoughts jostling around in my brain. (No, *you're* welcome, Skull!) Most of them aren't headed here, but here's a few odds and ends that slipped out between the heftier stuff:

Remember when I used to write monthly update emails to everyone in my email contact list, regardless of how much they might care?

"Cheesy fries" are--together--two of the most glorious words in the English language. (Seperately, only "cheesy" inspires greatness. "Fries" could go either way.)

I'm not sure that any good will come of either burst of nostalgia, but I just broke out the (fresly rediscovered) honey soap [a souvenier of my first trip abroad] and need to buy that Big Sky song from itunes before it disappears into my gypsy moth past again.

Something about a multiple-day eye twitch (and not having anything in particular causing it) makes you want to toss out all the stress in your life and sit reading on the back patio. (Also, nothing adds to your stress level like not knowing the source of your stress-induced eye twitch.)

it's Wednesday of tech week, yet all my fingernails are intact

I don't know why I'm watching them now, but old clips of "The Lion King" (the musical, not the movie) on YouTube are a weird way to block out Myrtle in the background. Also, somewhat ineffectual.

Also-also, I find it difficult not to listen to "Endless Night" on somewhat forever repeat. And I still want to grow up and be Julie Taymor. (How did I manage to write a second paragraph that matches the first? I thought I'd lost that skill.)

realizing one bus ride too late

You know what's really helpful? If you're going to work on script changes, you should probably bring with you the most recent draft of the script. (Either that, or have better faith in your memory to include what's been cut out prior to the newest changes.)

So beyond unrelated: I'm annoyed with Jane Austen for coming up with as dull a heroine as Fanny Price. I think Jane took whatever backbone she would've given Fanny and sent it to Elizabeth Bennett instead.

update about not updating

All those hoping the holiday weekend would lead to wonderful rest and thus (huzzah!) most blogging will be saddened to hear that I'll be in the world of tech week and happy to manage basic life functions (let along figuring out where to call cues and finding a storage home for all my set pieces).

Those who don't care whether I blog or not can feel free to continue to not care.

Go team awesome.

I know better than to use such crappy ink to write on my hand.

My happiness that Spotlighter is over (and--more importantly--no longer my concern for a year) is tinged by sadness that the quotes I wrote on my hand were already fading before I got home. There was a Lee Walker zinger and everything!

In regards to awardness (I don't think she actually called it the growth award this year, so I'm not sure that I'm actually destined to leave within this season), I appreciate the sentiment...though I feel it more sincerely from those who talked to me afterward with congrats and hugs. I'm not always the most confident in my stage management abilities (and, at times, that can be a major understatement), so I should probably just take the compliment and tell my inner doubts to shut it.


[I first typed up this post Wednesday morning after Spotlighter. I hadn't gotten around to posting it (until now, I hope) because I'd been trying to draft out in my head the small argument that had been going on in the meantime. The basics:

1. I'm annoyed that we keep choosing to spotlight me, because there are other deserving people in this company who do amazing, above and beyond work (and I know how much time I spend on BubbleSpinner.

2. About 95% of what I do I wouldn't call going beyond the call of duty (or doing royal work, whatever that means JCG), but label as "being a good stage manager." By pointing me out as an example, I feel like that's providing justification for those who don't work as hard as they could to be content with their "average" performance.

3. I haven't yet unjumbled all my thoughts about how I don't want to live in Texas for the rest of my life (and how that somehow was brought up by one measly little bouquet), so just know that all that goes here.

The farther life gets from the drain that is Spotlighter Night (and how ironic is it that an evening set up to honor the company ends up dragging it through the emotional gutter?), the calmer my reaction will surely become. Again, I am happy that people think I'm swell (and I'll use it in the future when I need to remind myself that I'm swell), and I'll try to dwell only on that half.]

yum, yum carrots

I don't know where the emo teenager that wrote that last post when, but she's happily (well, as happy as emo teenagers can be) shuffled off again. Maybe it's because I've had a morning full of paperwork, which--counter intuitive as it may seem--puts me in a good mood.

Let it be noted (per usual, unrelated to the above thought), if I have a choice between running Spotlighter and just coming out as Ta-Daa (as currently notated in the script), I'm totally going for the bug. If I can't wear a swanky dress, I might as well not dress up at all.

not that any of the toys on my computer are trolls...

I think (now that I've stopped to ponder and not just push out a really muddled post) that my weird melancoly popping up all evening comes from finishing "Neverwhere" again and having my own thoughts of whether this enough in life. Work, eat, hang with friends, watch a movie, sleep, etc. ... where are my great grand adventures?

Probably part of this is also that I already threw out an offer to hitch off to London again, having finally finished posting pictures (and, I don't know, needing to take new ones?)

I'll probably be okay by tomorrow morning. In the meantime, I can add the following (along with S. Sondheim and high school emails) of people/things that are not helping: James Horner, the headache behind my left eye, the need for post-show dinner


[nearly immediate edit to add things that do help: picturing my mother watching Ace of Cakes on hulu, the Jeff Healy Band, patrons trying to use my (locked) office door to leave the theater]

...in order to steal cheese

I don't know what's about to go down, but my hair has already been informed as it's in classic Type A version of the hair flip (which will hopefully go for option 1 over option 2).

Sorry, I do weird punctuation when I'm hungry.

unrelated to anything else in the world, but I want to remember it forever: my new favorite game is picturing Cooksey in Samuel L. Jackson roles

As much as I love doing paperwork (and I seriously and unironically love putting together an Excel spreadsheet tracking tech pieces for a show), I think all stage managers should get to take Friday off from paperwork and--I don't know--go to Borders instead. I'm finding it hard to focus on this costume change breakdown with the knowledge that I don't have to be at work tomorrow floating in the not-so-back of my brain. Also, I'm doing box office coverage, and if that's not an excuse to goof off between phone calls, I don't know what is.

NOW is when I've forgotten about you for a week [plus]

Things that I should've accomplished before now:

* sending in this crappy loaner phone

* posting London pictures, because really

* sending off postcards from London, because really really

* learned all the words to "By My Side," as I've listened to it on repeat for approximately the past hour rather than letting my ipod cycle on to the next soundtrack

No, I did not forget you for a week...

I'm a little annoyed with Twitter for telling me [apparently] incorrect things about how to make text messages work while abroad, but more annoyed with Verizon for choosing to charge me for messages that seemingly disappeared into the ozone.

Leaving the bitterness behind, here's my London trip in Twitter posts:

July 16, 2:00 p.m. - Cheerio and g'afternoon my time! We've landed and are riding toward Paddington Station right now. Be jealous, it's under 80 degrees.

July 17, 7:19 p.m. - Fresh fruit, inflatable mini Tardis, sitting five rows from the stage at Billy Elliot...

July 18, 5:24 p.m. - Just watched Sirs Ian and Patrick do a soft shoe curtain call, and am now waiting at a stage door.

July 20, 5:43 a.m. - Last I saw Caleb he was sitting on the train to the airport. It's about twenty to six and I want to go back to sleep.

July 21, 6:11 p.m. - Sitting on the floor at the Royal Albert Hall waiting for this evening's Prom to begin...I feel like a concert hall groundling.

July 22, 9:40 a.m. - I don't want to pester anyone at 3 a.m., but I'm on a plane with a bag full of duty free kinder candy and mini toblerones. Cheerio, London!

hard to be on the timer when the keyboard is set up differently

I'll apparently have to back date all my twitter texts that I thought were going through, as I just checked and had last posted from a plane. *sigh*

My right ankle will probably never be the same again, and I have an awesome bruise cluster just above what's polite to show in society on my leg (art museum lift 1, Hannah 0), but I wouldn't trade 96% of this trip for anything. (I would take back getting lost for an hour yesterday and all the times I was grouchy with my brother, for the record.)

I'm so muddled on time at the moment, I'm not sure what time it is here (past midnight?) at home or anywhere else. So, generic greetings to you all.

Supposedly I can still twitter to the same number, even six hours into the future (aka, while in London). We'll see how that works.

I enjoyed the new Harry Potter, but would probably like it more upon a second viewing when I would not spend the movie thinking "wait, THAT didn't happen like that in the book...!" Do you think the costume shop would never notice if I didn't return the blue wig or awesome black jacket to them?

It's a little dangerous that I have so much room in Oscar (the big giant luggage) for souvenirs. (Related: I will never, ever be able to spell the word "souvenirs" without spellcheck.)

Two more hours to kill!

Did you know that I can check-in for my flight in thirty minutes?!?!?

I'm apparently going to spend the three hours before HP tonight (we're meeting at 9:00 to walk to the movie theater) by importing contacts into this phone, seeing as it won't shift them over from the old phone. BOO!

I need to go pick up the rest of my planned costume pieces for tonight.

Yesterday I used my Ike emergency money to trade in for British Pounds. For whatever reason, that's terribly amusing to me.

I almost just spilled a cup of lukewarm water all over my keyboard, so I'll call that good for now.

I SAY NO!

I was a little concerened early when I had blurry vision in my left eye, but I now think it was just the calm before the storm raging behind my right eye at the moment, and no amount of not-quite-yet-expired stage management kit drugs are helping it out.

[What does work: a constant smooth rubbing just above the right eyebrow, which--incidentally, makes it next to impossible to do anything else that my job requires at the moment.]

If I land in London and immediately fall ill, I'm calling the universe for a refund.

my hand smells like coffee

This is what I'm reduced to, and with five and a half days to go

TRAVIS: Hey, Hannah...London!
HANNAH: [bounces up and down]

also, a lovely tribute to Jesse James

Is it strange that I'm listening to (on somewhat constant repeat) a nostalgic song about Missouri right now? I think my London guidebooks are jealous.

listy listy list

There's still so much to do before this trip, especially now that it's only one week (one! week! !!) away. I like to put it in perspective and remind myself of how much more there would be to do if I were leaving the country for good (plus or minus a few years of life), but that mostly throws my brain off track.

And, to prove I am doing some work today: I don't know what alarms me more, the person in an over-sized robin costume for "The Secret Garden" or the invisible (but still very vocal) dog in The LIW Spectacular. The answer is neither. The winner is the animal puppet suit (complete with fake human arms!) for Dickon to bring a fox and lamb to visit Colin. Oh, Secret Garden, weren't the threatened drop boxes enough?

note to self: buy brownie fixings

Forget booking the flight, the hostel, or even the theatre tickets. It took asking for a ride to the airport to feel like this trip was going to actually happen.

the Important Things in Life

I tried a chocolate petit four (from last night's opening) again today, seeing as they'd been in a fridge for a sizeable period of time and would hopefully therefore not melt in your fingers upon being picked up. I guess my sugar gene was trying to tell me that I wasn't a true sugar addict if I preferred the vanilla to the chocolate.

Fourteen hours in the fridge, and it succeeded in being slightly less melty (except where attached to the paper doily, where it was suddenly suctioned down with chocolate glue) and didn't taste quite as much like pudding. I'm going to stick with vanilla.

Semi-related: I'm half tempted to make my own bowl of punch, and wish I had thought of that back when I first walked in. I don't think I can drink a whole bowl of pineapple ginger ale in an hour-fifteen, but I could've accomplished that with my full five hour shift.

Not related at all: I'm wearing multi-colored sequin shoes. (Of course I am.)

March - June, 2006

Is there anything quite as weird as reading blog posts from years ago and comparing the you of then to the you of now?

If nothing else, it's a great way to pass time between phone calls in the box office.

I'm about 5-2 for naming songs playing on the All Broadway station during the past half hour.

I pulled out a suitcase last night with the intention of seeing how things fit. The answer is that things are going to fit with room to spare for a small Dalek (hello, mild Doctor Who obsession!) and part of David Garrick's grave (hello, mild Hist&Lit II obsession) to spare.

I wish I had this suitcase the last time I went, when I tried to cram two weeks worth of clothes (plus shoes, since this is me) into the same family suitcase that has traveled with the Smiths for ages, despite it not being the most spacious piece of luggage you might hope for. (And then I had to figure out a way to get home everything I bought, because the snow globes and t-shirts and pirate flags and everything else couldn't not come home.)

This suitcase, which needs a name if I insist on taking it places where I will probably need to yell at it while dragging it up flights of stairs, is [as mentioned] large and lime green, which is another reason to take it places. It was bought two Christmases ago with the intention that I was about to take a trip. The fact that the NYC adventure was canceled due to team sports just means that I've delayed the grand debut of the monster bag.

So, I want to actually use this bag, if nothing else because it needs to be used for more than just storage in my closet. Maybe I'll pack all the shoes I actually want, rather than feel I'll need. Maybe I'll buy all the shoes I want. And maybe, sadly, I'll suck it up and use the size suitcase I actually need, and save the nameless green beast for another day.

PREVIOUS POST CANCELLED DUE TO GROUCHINESS

I was about three sentences in on writing a post about how my pet peeves are growing due to Impending Vacation Not Yet Here-ness when I realized that it was suffering more from People Don't Want to Read How Grouchy You Are-itis. Instead (since I'd prefer not to turn into that "Hey, you kids get off my lawn!" person), I offer you Things That Make Me Giddy:

* I have the full Saturday off, and might finally be able to see a certain 3D Pixar movie. (The indirect giddiness here: movie popcorn butter!)

* I am *not* the one currently leading shift drills on the mainstage, and that will always be a great plus in my life.

* 19 days....

* Have you seen the video for She&Him's "Why Do You Let Me Stay Here?" Where she's a zombie or something (I don't know what, but there's a bunch of fake blood), but it still manages to be the cutest, bounciest song in the world?

* My top left desk drawer started out holding office supplies, but it has morphed into a strange collection of CDs instead over time.

* Even when I'm not stage managing (such as the next two months or so), I still get paid to sit at a desk and create forms in Excel. If that doesn't bounce you out of bed in the morning [when the "you" is a slightly OCD type with a love of spreadsheets and being paid], I don't know what will.

line 2 spcl 010

Since we're opening "Steel Magnolias" next week and have turned the stage into a beauty parlor, I had the props mistress cut my hair yesterday after work in one of the swanky salon chairs. There are pictures somewhere, but I haven't seen them yet. I have Rory Gilmore college hair again.

I keep making to-do and packing lists for London, but I should save my time and paper since I seem to rewrite the same things every time. Frankly, I'm just happy that I haven't pulled out the suitcase and practiced packing yet.

I'm finished with shows for the season, so now I have two months of trying to make Scheduling seem like a full-day job. Most days it's not even a half-day job, and--now that my computer has gone fritzy--I'm running low on projects. (Ignoring, of course, obvious things such as revamping the company stage management handbook or helping box office make renewal calls, two projects that I keep avoiding.) How's that for being a responsible adult? I just want to play Bubble Blaster.

WHO ATE MY TRACK RATINGS?!

Ahem.

I had a crick in my neck when I woke up this morning, and--oddly enough--such things only get worse when you spend your day up and down ladders, checking lights, moving props, etc. Someone (I actually think it was me, but it was too long enough to be sure) left a bag of broccoli in the freezer at the theater, and it's spent most of the day cradling my shoulder.

I don't know why I'm so obsessed with Mazzy Star's "Into Dust," but I think a small part of it is the Firefly-esque trill at the end of the track.

If we don't manage to pull off these "Waiting for Godot" tickets after all the talk of Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellen, I think the world may beat us up.

Is it weird that I only seem to post in [usually] longer Twitter-style, disjointed posts anymore?

What cheese is made backwards?

Oh! How I love my post-4:30 riddle hunt for the next day's show!

(3) Charging the KLIC-7001 battery

I cannot explain (nor understand, really) how much I love reading instruction manuals. Maybe when the actors finally push me over the edge, I'll find a job editing technical manuals and live in strangely satisfied bliss. (Or not. Depends on how I react when they first push me over the edge.)

We may have lodgings set by the end of the day, depending on how much a certain brother wishes to stick with his "no, really, I don't have an opinion" mantra. Interestingly enough, the two places I stayed in London last time both made the final list. One of us (read: me) will just need to decide if it's worth the extra $40 to sleep in a room with two less beds.

I wish I'd marked on my calendar when I first started to alphabetically listen to my iPod. (What? Then I can rate everything and make my vaguely OCD side feel great!) I'm over a fourth through my entire collection, but I can't gauge how long it will take to finish if I don't remember when I began.

I've only seen one disc of one season, but I love you already, Doctor Who. Now I'll be on a TARDIS hunt this summer, too.

Someday I would like to think I would post in a long format again.

My Ta-Daa days are over the foreseeable future. We had a nice crowd of kids, only one wanted to punch me (and that was only after she'd been adorable for 3/4 of the night), and--since the head fan wasn't working--I had one of the better workouts I've had since mandatory P.E. classes. Way to be, acting bug.

Seeing as it's fifteen minutes before the end of the day, I think I'm safe to say that I've successfully avoided feeling bored enough to read "Voice of the Prairie" (the play based on Laura Ingalls Wilder that we're producing next season) another day. I don't have anything against LIW, but what I've heard about the play (it's supposed to be very "and then this happened...and then this happened...and then...") doesn't endear it to my heart.

The PR department is letting everyone update bios for the company wall, playbill, and wherever else they might be needed. While I haven't been here too terribly long, it's weird to think that I still had things to change. My previous bio was all pre-ADP work, even when I got to rewrite a shorter version for the P&P playbill at the end of my intern year. I actually have favorite shows from Texas (including a magic show!) to list, shows that would make my favorite productions whether I wanted to list something from my current theater or not.

Now I feel the need to update my resume, but I'll save that for home. Mixed with my plane ticket and my talk of children's theater I plan to see while abroad [how junior year of me], it probably wouldn't inspire much confidence in my whole "I swear I'm coming back, guys!" story.

ambition

this blog post makes me inexplicably happy, as it proves that there's a [sort of] way to fulfill my ambition to be The Muppet Show's stage manager...while simultaneously becoming friends with Tina Fey. Score!

stay away, karate twins (but power rangers welcome)

I'd post about my Adventures in Laundry from last night (because who *can't* do without a good story involving rinsing and wringing an entire load of laundry after finding it several inches deep in standing water?), but instead I'll alert the world that I'll be dancing in the bug suit again tonight at the Kirkwood Chick-fil-A. Tomorrow will be an encore performance at the Fondren location.

I'm going to attempt to install some contacts in the hopes that tonight's frolicing will be less fuzzy.

hiccups

Ta-Daa and the Chick-fil-A cow are dancing fools.

I want to name the gapping hole in our hallway ceiling because I think it might be there for awhile. Might as well be able to say "hey!" to Jerry or Enrique or whatever.

I had to stop reading my book on Sesame Street history this morning because I reached Jim Henson's memorial service and didn't want to cry in front of twenty other bus riders.

Why oh why am I this sore from *roller skating?* (Related: who remembered that skating parties were so very awesome?)

[I'm fairly calm about this right now, but should dissolve into jumping and dolphin sounds in about three hours.]

I seem to have just purchased a [round trip! don't worry, theater!] ticket to London this summer.

thoughs while eating a bag of uncooked ramen

I haven't eaten this since high school, probably while waiting outside the Muny.

Has this always been this messy? ... And now my desk is covered with oriental flavor dust.

I should go grocery shopping.

Hope would be really proud that I still do this, even if it hasn't been for years.

Shoot, I need to get Hope a wedding congrats card!

If I'd thought of that before I ate the noodles, I could've gone to CVS for the card *and* food.

I better end this lunch with a plane ticket.

karate chop twins

I just reached the point of the night when everything became funny. Normally, this hits at post-1 a.m. (If you cannot see the date stamp on this post, it's only 10:09.)

I'll be able to post some Chick-fil-A bug pics, hopefully tomorrow afternoon when I'm no longer in tech for the ridiculous rainbow show.

Wow, am I tired and sweaty and still at the theater. Off to remedy all three.

still here

Whenever I need a quick pick-me-up, there's always

The Muppet's Habanera

A Classic Kenneth the Web Page

Or, a good oldie, Best of Craigslist

Just sharing.

oh, the hours....

I've just spent way to much of my life working to solve this delightful puzzle of movie titles. (And, because this is the internet, I had cheating help.)

Only one more day of Charlotte, though it might be enough to push me over the edge as it features a Development Event Late In The Afternoon, which is when I'm at my least friendly, mostly because I don't get to take naps then anymore.

Riddle rehearsals have not [yet] caused our unpaid apprentice to run screaming from the theater world, so that's plus. I don't know what to do with so much eager-to-help energy, though, except remember Young, Eager-to-Help Hannah and wonder where she's been lately.

I need a vacation. Or, more specifically, I need to plan and reserve a vacation. Maybe I really will spend my half of the week sitting in parks, reading British books and feeding pigeons.

*picture me jumping up and down while I talk about these things*

I love these shirts. (As well as Mental Floss in general.)

I finally heard all of "The Drowsy Chaperone" yesterday evening, and have had it on repeat ever since. (Favorite lyric that doesn't read well, but really really listens well: Six excruciating continents/Antarctica - oh, please)

Paperwork, oh how I love you.

I keep breaking the lobby laptop: an update

I'm much calmer today, probably because I spent this morning browsing guidebooks in Borders rather than running two children's theater shows.

I owe my brother a list of locations I want to see on the trip...which, in sitting at work retrospect, would have been much easier if I had one of the guidebooks with me right now.

I think I'll go swimming tomorrow. Look for a post about how badly sunburnt I am on Tuesday.

chocolate chocolate ack

I'm all out of sorts because we were thisclose to getting flight tickets taken care of...the very vital first step in the London excursion...and now I'm waiting on a credit card to magically reappear from the mail system. In the meantime, the flight that we wanted has gone up in price, so we'll have to go with the next one up (a $60 difference), unless those seats run out before the card shows up.

I just want to get things settled, even beyond flights and lodging and theater tickets for Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellian (the big three items on the to-do). I want to work out when we're taking side trips and what things both Caleb and Kat want to see and how to fit everything on Caleb's to-do list into three and a half days. (Hint: impossible mission)

And, deep down in the pit of my stomach, I'm a little afraid that I'll hate the whole trip and I'll need to rethink the past three years of being in love with a foreign city.

profile.php?id

Waiting for a facebook page to load is the modern age's version of watching paint dry.

the birds are singing sweetly

I would drop everything if someone gave me the chance to be in "Into the Woods."

I should probably stop listening to it on repeat, though, before I really have memorized the entire show while fixing scheduling conflicts.


In the world of me being vague (because I do that often on here): my over the weekend crafting would be done if I knew how to properly use a copy machine.

no names yet

The best thing about bringing frozen goods for lunch later is they keep you cool at the bus stop. Hurrah, instant a/c!

For the half-day I spent at the Rotunda yesterday, I thought the new graffiti across the street said "FFA" and I dreamed up all sorts of future farmer punks with spray cans. Sadly, it's actually "FEA."

Do I actually post anymore beyond post-lets? Survey seems to say no.

narwhals and bacon

To answer [here] the question I've heard a lot today: No, I never got my cheeseburger. But that's okay.

To post [here] what apparently didn't post to my twitter this morning on the bus ride in: Stuck behind a train which is stuck behind a man walking the tracks. What? (I don't understand, either.)

To continue posting in the same ridiculous manner: all the Grace staff who were working post-4 p.m. are very impressed with your ability to nail birthday presents, Mother Dear. I assume that it is only natural, after knowing me for twenty-five (yikes!) years that you would send me a Shakespeare action figure and zombie pet figurines. (P.S. - the bird is my favorite, but the rabbit is a close second)

administrative use only

I'm starting to remember the kind of crazoid life I lived the past two springs when I'd have the regular Rotunda show going on as well as special Miller rehearsals. It does not make me the best person I can be, but I'm hopefully saving all the frustration and angst for when I'm alone in the office and can chew loudly on straws in peace.

What the what is up with me chewing straws lately? Maybe it has to do with this desk, as it came with a pile of straws that the previous tenant had yet to chew (her own favorite stress relief hobby). I'm also not sure whether it is or isn't healthier than chewing gum.

Veering onward (since my phone just buzzed me), I wish I could record an album just to write the liner notes. (You'd think there'd be more thought there, but that's pretty much it. I'd really, really like to write liner notes for something.)

And, while I'm feeling musically inclined: is there any happier lyric than "I'm in love/and it's a sunny day?" (Beatles - Good Day Sunshine) Even if you yourself are not either of those things, you feel a bit better thinking that someone else could be.

Yuck, ending with a preposition.

follow the leader

I seem to be the last one leaving the theater a lot lately. Matched with my pension for being the first one at the theater, it's perhaps no wonder that I keep so many spare clothes here. And shoes. And bags of candy.

Mrs. Whatsit and Mrs. Who walk into a bar...

I have a sudden and inexplicable urge to make a joke about tesseracts. I don't know where it came from; it's not like my brain has a stored up wealth of "Why did the tesseract cross the road..." jokes.

A craft project (and possibly bubbles) to anyone who can come up with a decent tesseract joke. Surely there's an ex-mathlete out there somewhere who has some ideas.

I came in to do show reports, but somehow ended up on Facebook photo albums. I don't understand it, either.

It saddens me to think that I no longer have a yearly theatre banquet to look forward to at the end of the season. And--before anyone points it out--Spotlighter Awards does not count, as there is almost a zero chance that people will dance to "Love Shack" by the evening's end.

time is ticking

It's nice that--for once--I got a Future Me email where I had accomplished something I wanted done by this point....rather than feeling all sad for the Past Me, who hadn't seen her dreams done yet. Pat on the back.

Thanks for all the birthday wishes, candy, random singing, wishes from other peoples' parents, more candy, and free sopaipillas (oh, the free, lit with a single candle sopaipillas) that have already come in. I know I'm a little silly about not making a big deal about my birthday, but I really do appreciate all the well wishes. And candy. And free food.

Today, even with the feeling sick during the show earlier, is one of those days when I feel very secure and happy in my life. Happy birthday (and happy happy) to me.

"You're the silent birthday type, aren't you?"

(Fun fact: I drafted out this post while in the kitchen of the theater about an hour ago, updated Facebook, and completely forgot what I'd wanted to say. Behold, the dangers of internet social sites!)

Just to say it--in the last few hours before it actually hits--it's not that I *don't* get excited about my birthday. And it's not (as I told a few people) that my birthdays peaked with the awesome college birthdays I had (hello, sidewalk chalk, pinata, sparkily red sequin dress, and light-up heels!) and therefore no one should ever try to impress me again.

Birthdays are one of the few days of the year* when magical things are supposed to happen to you, whether that means someone [finally!] gives you a pony or simply buys you a meal. People are nicer to you, and there's often cake dropped on your doorstop. Even if the day nosedives into the gravel, you get to remember that you lasted another year...and surely that's enough to make it through one more day.

So, please don't take it personal if you seem more excited about my birthday than I am tomorrow. I'll be bouncy on the inside, especially when I hit the free queso in the evening.


(*other days: Christmas, Black Friday, Groundhog Day)

(mostly, because it was commented upon earlier)

For those of you keeping track at home, I am now in my third outfit of the day. Man, I love having things to do in the evening.

posting, THEN facebook

There's been something swirling around in my head since over the weekend when it plopped in my skull and made me burst into tears (in a *good* way, so don't worry). Sadly, though, I only have eight minutes left of lunch, and--since I was magically off yesterday--I have a huge pile of things to accomplish before tomorrow's auditions. Somehow I always forget my editing (and reediting and re-reediting and...) tendencies before I start a writing project. Must be something about not having papers with due dates anymore.

Would you believe that I've been out of college for three years? (I would, but only because I wear heels to work on a fairly consistant basis, and I certainly didn't bother with that at Truman.)

a listing of things

* My head (and, thus by extension, my brain) really, really hurts right now.

* I never actually noticed the "Vacation Days Left" line on the absence request forms before this week (the line I should be filling in as part of my putting it in the system), and that'll probably cause me some flack as of, oh, tomorrow morning.

* I may have sort of possibly implied that I would stage manage all the Mainstage and Rotunda shows at the same time if the company provided me with a vehicle to go home in-between. (As in, I told the managing director I would SM both shows if I had a vehicle and could go home in-between rehearsals/performances.)

* I might now be unofficially stage managing both first slot shows next season.

* My head hurt before both of these things.

* In a veering to the other direction, I would buy a Mo Williems pigeon or Knuffle Bunny shirt if I ever found one that struck my fancy.

* I kinda want to go home and either (A) sleep or (B) read my high school MLA. No, I'm not sure what's wrong with me, either.

but there is interneticus to explore!

I should invest in internet at home again just so I would leave work at the end of the workday.

um.....

"It's good to know that I'm not crazy," I said with relief.

Then I realized I was talking out loud.

To myself.

In an otherwise empty hallway.

when you want to have a rainbow/then you have to have some rain

The supreme "joy" of my life at this moment is the supreme lack of complete sheet music for "Riddle of the Rainbow," our recently announced fifth children's show. (This is why I'm planning vacation in July instead of June. It may also be why I go crazy and run screaming from Texas before July, but some days have more reasons than others.)

I've been really grouchy and tired lately (as well as feeling anti-social and compelled to eat my weight in chocolate), but I'm hoping I'll bounce back soon. I don't like myself while I act this way, and I'm sure others don't either (part of why I choose to hermetize). I blame the pig show ad-libbing, stalled vacation plans, and the toys that have fallen into oblivion behind my desk when people use my computer without my permission.

Unrelated: Did you know that Locks of Love has a hardcore disclaimer about how they aren't affiliated with any religious, political, or otherwise issue stance?

fin fang foom

I am so very sleepy at the moment, but can sadly go nowhere until my ipod finishes charging. On the plus side, I've slightly goofed off (though you could argue that reading Playbill helps keep me informed about my profession and therefore doesn't count as "goofing off") for the past hour...which works out to approximately a full work day anyway. You do not know the full joys of being a stage manager until you're at the theater at 8:15, gluing straw back onto fence posts.

(Other joyful items for that hour of day: moving chairs, pulling props, hanging beams from the ceiling.)

Will got me a Muppet Show comic book as my prize for finishing the crossword puzzle on his blog (he was celebrating 100 straight days of posting), but I'm not quite awake enough to enjoy it right now.

crunchity crisp crunch

I'm eating an apple right now, mostly because the rest of my lunch wasn't quite filling enough. It's far from the best apple I've ever had, seeing as it has lived in my bag to and from work for over a week (and had gained something resembling white paint on one side), but it's held up better than I expected.

I'd sit outside to enjoy this semi-wonderment of fruit, but I've started peeling from the last time I spent quality time outside at work and would prefer not to make things worse.

We've decided to do a fifth children's show this summer after all, so I'll spend my post-lunch two hours listening to music that isn't labelled and trying to decide which track is which song. As you've probably already guessed, I'm looking forward to this.

I'm going to search for things on the IKEA website now, as I want a package and have a gift certificate anyway.

today's blog post cancelled due to unexpected actual work

Sorry! I'm helping choose music!

"This is the type of a logistical problem that can make stage managers lose sleep and eat asprins."

Somehow, in my many hours of sitting outside and reading the stage management textbook left in my desk, I managed to receive a sunburn...but only on the left side of my body. Seeing as this was the side furtherest from the sun, I'm a bit perplexed as to how I accomplished the feat.

As for the book, it amazes me how terribly, terrifically out of date something can be about technology when updated only seven years ago.

(equals just enough time to post something for the day...swell!)

Two minutes until I can leave the box office and pick up some delightful Tex Mex from down the street. If I didn't have to deal with Kirby construction traffic to reach it, or if I didn't have to return to the theater by seven afterward, it would be a perfectly lovely evening.

bunnies

I enjoy a quick email exchange between company departments, especially with quips, since it helps me feel less like I'm the only one goofing off due to lack of projects. In box office there were always phones to answer, database entries to clean, and emails to sort. What am I supposed to do when there's nothing to fit into the calendar? Working on making the scheduling office more schedule-tastic?

(Admittedly, I should work on the company stage management handbook, which is currently helpful only to people who have never SMed before and need a crash course. I've instead been reading the SM textbook left in my desk from one of the previous tenants. Did you know that stage managers need to be very organized, but have a sense of humor?)

Special thanks to Angelfish for the box of Easter candy that arrived today, happily without being chewed by a dog first. (The box I sent her did not receive the same luck.) Its contents will join the other quality candy stashed in my desk and hidden from actors until needed.

Not hidden is a collection of candies from college and beyond that recently moved from my home pantry to work desk in the hopes that it would be consumed by someone besides myself. Sadly, nobody wants to eat my old candy anymore. I got rid of most of the container of ancient butterscotches, Skittles, and other assorted packaged candies before everyone figured out the majority was sticky and gross. Now I'm left with a few layers of Lifesavers that cling to one another due to an unfortunately melted grape Now and Later. Delicious! (Also in the bottom of the container: pieces of tree bark and dried grass from when the original candy was scooped up off the ground under my 21st/9th birthday pinata. That really adds to the appeal, I'm sure.)

should've chosen the left arm

What UP, Tetnus booster shot? I know I can live most of life stuck in zombie straight ahead arms, but it would be nice if you didn't throb when I move more than an inch away from that angle.

On the plus side, I apparently have a near perfect blood pressure level, which I'll fondly remember years from now when it skyrockets (as I'm genetically predisposed to have happen).

being good and posting twice in the same month

One positive thing that arose from the lack of internet blogging was a slight return of regular journaling, which had mostly fallen by the wayside since, oh, mid-college. One of the supreme joys of this past Christmas was finding the stack of middle school through college journals and enjoying some adolescent angst. (For some reason, angst is much more entertaining after the fact.) Even if it's all about metro buses, Londong planning, and random grocery lists, I'm glad that Future Hannah will someday also have a paper record of this period of her life.

I don't know that there was much point to sharing that. I had a second half planned, which needed that first portion, but I'm ready to take lunch and the idea isn't fully developed yet anyway. Here's to making a third post in the same month?

When you don't have internet at home, it's easiest just to text into Twitter and leave life at that.

(See above, with apologies for the past few months)

We just finished the opening week of "Charlotte's Web," which means this blog missed all the joy and insanity of the superhero show. It's the most cues I've ever called [so far], and probably the most fun I'll ever had calling a show. (There was a standby to lower a cage! A visual cue in my blind spot involved a series of back and forth hand signals! My ASM spent part of the show in a dolphin costume! Two dance breaks and a recurring sheep joke!) Here's a picture of the Super Stage Manager (featuring patented Super Stage Manager Hair):



Thanks, "Hero Squad vs. The Princess Snatchers."

Now we're into "Charlotte's Web" instead, so I go home craving pork and, oddly, frozen custard. Yum. (Today we settled for cotton candy in the booth, and that was glorious enough.) This show will run until the end of May--the longest I've ever been on the same show [shows traveling from the Rotunda to Miller Outdoor don't count, the show changes to reblock and adjust to a non-circular space], so we'll see how long I care. A show is better than no show, or so any of my not-employed-in-theater theater major friends would tell me.

And, on a final, passing thought: I started biting my nails again. Oops.

Greetings, 2009!

Hello, poor forgotten blog. I've returned from the vacation world of Missouri to a desk full of "while you were out"s and a laptop I'm going to steal for the Rotunda. There's still no internet at home, as our month of fighting with ATT resulted in their service actually not being available in our area. I'll just call that as a "contrary to previous information" and leave the story there.

It's been a full week since I last bit off my fingernails, so that's the default resolution for this year. (Perhaps also to not buy new shoes everytime I see a pair I like.)

And, now I'll end with a quote from stage combat rehearsal: "Never point the mace at a face. It rhymes, so don't do it."