I've already forgotten what the clover thing means.

I'm mostly checking in just because I'm trying to stall another 10ish minutes before my mother's virtual zoo will be able to help out Mrs. Claus again for the chance to pick up a Christmas item that somehow trains animals (huh?), and she's busy trying to finish someone else's book before they leave tomorrow. [That's kinda Christmas in Iowa in a big nutshell, in a way.]

The Red Green Show is playing in the living room (which honestly brings me back to my middle/high school days, late Sunday nights in ways I'm too tired to express tonight), and I have a stack of books from my caring relatives. Also, I have grand memories (and photographic documentation) of the slightly-faulty gingerbread house we grandkids assembled yesterday. Post-it "condemned" sign out front, I love you most of all.

I'm sorry that you're not here to eat one of the Oreo truffles, or the ice cream dessert, but frankly that leaves more for me. Go eat your own holiday dessert tradition, and then give the baker a hug, because really.

I'm sleepy and full of sugar. I just almost used a comma improperly. I'm gonna go watch the Canadians, and close out this Christmas.

wants it to be this time tomorrow, even if it means being cramped on a plane

I almost rhapsodized about "a plane...CALLED FREEDOM!," but I thought that might be laying on things a little thick, especially while typing on the work computer.

Did you know that I'm not packed? Like, at all? (As in, there are spare shoes still stored in my luggage because I have way too many and no other place to store them.)

THE ANSWER IS CLOVER.

just like you

I need to buy a car because I hate asking for rides to the airport.

I also need to do a quick copy of all blogger posts before hitting the publish button, as I'm tired of them getting eaten.

I used to have more, but now I don't care. Go listen to the Doctor Who cast sing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," because it is a thing to behold.

because it needs to be noted somewhere...

My hair looked awesome today. (Probably because I was grouchy and my computer wouldn't work, so I needed a happy thought, but still.)

(London fangirl says YES)

Am I really down to choosing my new phone between the one that has nearly all the features I want....and the one that doesn't, but is global ready?

Numbers I can't remember under pressure: my PIN

(Actually, that's about it. I really, really, REALLY cannot remember my PIN number at any time other than when I key it in at the checkout. Thanks for nothing, after hours phone number.)

My name is Hannah, and I obsess over unimportant decisions before reaching a conclusion.

(and we'll call that how to get around the previously drafted and unending post about my current search for a new phone)


Here's a fun game for the holidays: read all your blog posts from three years ago and making a list of all the things you still haven't accomplished. Notable items: moving to London, gaining a pony, finishing that 50 states music mix set. I did institute a new nickname for Mr. J, so that evens things out.

I have a spot on my leg that is not only swollen and scabbed over from bleeding, but also surrounded by a large bruise. If someone could let me know what mutant robot bug bit me in night, that'd be great.

I should've asked for a new Edward Gorey calendar for Christmas.

Because how will I get my fix of small children dying elsewhere? I work in children's theater, sometimes I need Neville and his ennui.

Did you know that one of my three results from the personal survey thing the company made us fill out said that I need to work in an environment where I feel emotionally supported? Because that might explain why I get frustrated sometimes.

Songs I'm in love with right now: Julie London's "Cry Me a River," "Grace Kelly" as redone by The Whiffenpoofs, and really anything that removes the Littlest Angel soundtrack from my brain after shows. Fifteen shows down! Twelve to go!

HI MOM!

A fringe effect of my conversations with Angelfish about her upcoming wedding would be all the time I've thought about my someday nuptials...which is a little odd, what with the not being sold on marriage for myself.

beneath the pale moonlight

There's much I could say about what a great day today turned out to be, but instead I'm going to declare my love for "Save the Last Dance" by The Drifters. Excuse me while I put this on repeat to fall asleep to with the rain.

also cool, bowties

You know what's cool? Fuzzy socks. In this case, of course, I use the definition of "cool" that means "actually warm, because the apartment complex hasn't turned on the heat yet."

We're out of milk, which was quite a problem at all the meals of the day, but not enough to pull me out of a pajamas to run to the corner store. (The only thing that did put me in real clothes? Remembering I had a Borders coupon that was about to expire. If I'm going to buy people's Christmas presents one at a time using the weekly percentage-off coupons that keep popping up in my email, I need to stay on top of each one.

When did all the handles break off my old church mugs? Perplexing. Also, I'm going to keep drinking this hot chocolate until it's gone, 2007 expiration date or not. (Don't worry, Mom, just a few more packs to go.)

Unrelated to any of the above: I did my first touring booking this weekend, and it even involved me standing on a stage in a costume and singing things, plus my usual lurking in darkness and pressing buttons. Fun fact: it was easier to take in a costume to fit me than to let it out to fit the understudy. (Person this information alarms the most: the costume designer, who really wants to stop dealing with buttons popping off daily, among other things.) Being a techie is way more awesome in my world (buttons!), but I do miss getting a costume.

Hey! My arm's bleeding! I'm gonna deal with that.

and the light

I had something I wanted to post, but then "Move On" from Sunday in the Park with George came on, and anything else I could have is gone. Sorry.

snark busters

We opened the Christmas show today, which went fine. (Better than fine and thus worth noting: we had a full house of groups, and they were all seated by start time at 10:30. CRAZY TALK.)

Better-better (Betterest? I don't know the best way to offend the English language here) than fine was taking part of filming for St. Luke's sermon series that led to me being with a small pack of Victorian-clothed people walking around downtown Houston this afternoon. Also, the geese!

My fancy picture frame-clock combo currently reads sixty-six degrees, so I guess the heat isn't on inside yet. It's at least warmer in than out at the moment, which is a monumental plus from this morning.

this is so not me getting ready for the day

Sometimes I wish we had real internet at home (rather than sketchy unsecured wireless picked up from around the complex) so I could take care of things like plane tickets and Christmas shopping without needing to take a bus in to work.

I pick my brother's Christmas presents based on what books on his list sound interesting, then try to read them before I hit the north.

I bought a Lego set for my cousin (he's eight; he won't read about it here), and I look forward to helping assemble it at Christmas, just like all the previous years of his older brother receiving Lego and K'Nex sets.

While Black Friday did take care of many presents on my list (side thanks to K1 down time for providing me brainstorming time), there's still quite a bit to go. Please excuse me while I email my mother for advice.

k,thx

I'm thankful for family up north, friends in the south, a job that never turns boring, DVDs on sale for $2, and the knowledge that I'll eventually go to sleep again. First though, third helping of stuffing.

I know we'll be fine, but...

It's less than helpful that everyone who hears you're cooking your first turkey (friends, family, the person behind you in the Walgreens checkout) makes the same "tsk, ohhhh" sound before telling you you'll be fine.

Also, I refuse to feel like less of an adult because I don't own a turkey baster.

I collected these in my head throughout the day.

Another sign I'm not mature enough to get married yet: I kinda want to walk down the aisle to a slowed-down, strings version of The B-52's "Rock Lobster."

Thanks, Butterball website, for informing me today that I should've started defrosting my bird last Friday. I DID NOT HAVE A TURKEY THEN, HOW COULD I DEFROST IT? (Guess who's getting up at 6:00 to fill her sink with cold water and a 13 lb. turkey?)

I was concerned for my pan of brownies, until I realized the strange smell coming from our oven each time I opened the door was the scent of clean.

We cleared the recycling into my room to make insta-extra space for everyone coming to Thanksgiving, so it looks like a bag woman lives next to my bookshelf. Note to self: take out the recycling while you have a company van borrowed.

new-y new-new

(because we all know I prefer to do posts this way, anyway)

* I cleaned our stove last night in anticipation of cooking a giant turkey in it in two days. Also, because we'd never cleaned it since moving in, and perhaps that's why it burns things so often. My cold was much closer to gone before subjecting it to heavy duty aeresol cleaners.

* If I had realized it wasn't going to completely restore to factory settings, I would not have bothered trying to back-up all my files before getting my keyboard back into working shape. Plus side - I now have everything backed-up, AND it all needs to be reorganized, what with how I threw on everything regardless of whether it was already on the portable HD or not.

* Even if the leftover opening cheese and fruit had been okay before, it certainly isn't now that it's been out and unfridgerated since 9 a.m.

* How have I not finished a black Friday shopping list by now?

run, walk, hop, or fly

My computer background is currently Hermione in a PR still for HP7, not because Hermione is awesome (though she is), but because it was the one with the most recognizable London landmarks in the background. Greetings, Tower Bridge and City Hall!

I almost called Tower Bridge "London Bridge" instead. Clearly I've been away for too long. TOO LONG.

I got approved for my two big vacations of the season today, but this somehow led to me stage managing more mainstage shows. We can probably all guess how I feel about that. In the same meeting I also somehow ended up defending the children's theater programing to the artistic director. So that was a nice afternoon.

Why is no one offering HP6 as a Black Friday deal? I was sure this would happen! As it stands, the only thing I'm interested in is S1 Community for $12 (because that's worth the Modern Warfare episode alone). What am I supposed to do with myself if not stand in line at 3 a.m. with a stomach full of turkey?

I NEED TO... (a fun game for all to play)

* fold laundry
* eat lunch
* water indoor plants
* read far enough in HP7 so that Ron is back and everyone cheers up again
* patch jeans
* finish Netflix so they can finally go back
* actually get out of bed

stand down

I wanted to put something ahead of Monday's fairly alarmist post, but then the internet ate it. Ask first next time, internet.

B and I both bought about $80 worth of movie tickets today, which is awesome in and of itself. Actually having a ticket stub (and not just an email printout) for HP7 will be even better.

If anyone has a VHS copy of TRON they'd like to loan me before the sequel comes out in December, that'd be great. I have a sneaking suspicion it might be the next film on the RJ/Brenda/Hannah movie outing list.

Shoot. I still haven't written down dress numbers from the first time I tried to post this...and reminded my brain that I needed to write down dress numbers for tomorrow. (Long-distance bridesmaid dress shopping, ahoy!)

Um.....go team? GO TEAM! (Yes, I ate ice cream for dinner. It had strawberries in it.)

St. Louis Area Coordinator

I shouldn't look at job listings out of spite, because that's totally when you find something you want to do (and are not currently able to pursue, what with the current Doing of Things and all).

cat piano

I'm terribly glad the giant scratches on my arm from last Monday's strike are finally fading because it's always awkward to look like you're a cutter when you ride public transportation. (Thank you also, jacket weather.)

I want to crank out a repeat reading of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows before the Part 1 midnight showing next week, but I probably have too many more important things to do. (More important to do: sleep, eat, bake brownies, stage managery crap)

Excuse me, I have to fall asleep now.

wildly different things I left off my Christmas list: a subscription to Real Simple and a Leatherman multi-tool

It's been one of those up and down weeks (front half down, very end half moving back up), and I made like a thirteen year old girl and journaled out some angst...but I don't feel inclined to share any of that. (No, *you're* welcome.)

Instead, we'll play "bits of things saved in Hannah's draft folder." Please enjoy the random (some with dates, some not).

* A man in full Scotish regalia playing the bagpipes just passed me going up the street. It's Saturday morning, and I have a show or else I'd investigate.

* I have a sudden craving for those middle school logic problems. Lucy likes purple. Timmy likes the color Mikey doesn't like.

* If it's going to be 70 degrees in Texas three days before Christmas (and a day before I head to blizzard coungry), by golly I'm going to wear a skirt.

* One bus driver to another: She wants to go to town./Well, take her. You have your own big ol' bus. 12.23.09

* 5.21.10 - Note to brain: not every weird happenstance is a metaphor for you life, so stop thinking about "the bell wouldn't work for you, huh?"

* Checking the weather at this point in the year is a more a formality. The only thing that might change is if there's rain to cut back on the beastly humidity. 5.26

* 6.1 I forgot that standing at the bus stop in a dress invoked the rule of auto honk: "I couldn't help it, the horn beeped on its own."

* If someone wanted to show up on my doorstep tonight with a plate of fried chicken, the words "undying" and "loyalty" might be bandied about. [Note to all: this holds true basically at all times.]

KEVIN: It's Mormon tech support!

How have I made two trips to London without buying a St. Paul's Cathedral snowglobe, a la Mary Poppins? (Besides the likely fact of them being at least 30 pounds, or $60?)

Related: I'm glad RJ took a few full pictures of the Mary Poppins costume from last night, because I haven't liked my Halloween costume so much since I was the Titanic victim. And, okay, that was only a few years ago, also, but there's a pretty thin patch after that in backward chronology.

I'm starting to get lovely silver hairs in the same spot on top of my head, which is okay in a Rogue from X-Men sort of way and frightening in an only twenty-six way.

If anyone has any papier mache projects you'd like to suggest, I have a jar of leftover paste sitting in my fridge.

"You'd think you'd learn" moments from sliding under the parking lot fence to save time: (1) scraping and bruising my knee (2) ripping a giant hole in the back of my jeans, causing a return to the apartment. I bet I still do it again sometime this week, though.

Jumbled enough yet? Probably. Besides, I have a zoo to get to today.

Speaking of '80s films...

Five year old me is all a-flutter tonight, as she realized that someday, twenty-six year old her not only got to see her Family Ties crush*, Michael J. Fox, on the big screen, but also come home with a full-size Back to the Future poster.

If only she knew twenty-six Hannah would be so in love with London that she'd have no wall space left, though. That part's kinda a bummer to kindergarten Hannah.


(*People of the world: have you heard my mother tell the story about my childhood crush on Michael J. Fox? It involves laminated pictures under pillows. Ask her sometime if you require amusement.)

In the '80s movie that was my dream last night, the college campus queen of parties had died and everyone was scrambling to become the new queen (or king) of parties ... only to have her reemerge (from a bright white coffin, no less) ten days later and declare her successor (previously her best friend and second in charge of parties) unable to throw a party with pizazz.

John Cusack was there as the male lead (of course he was, it's an '80s movie as dream), but I don't remember exactly what he was up to. I *do* recall that his best friend, Mitchell, was totally chasing after Cusack's sister, Hannah (hi!). In some sort of '80s movie turned Broadway musical twist, he kept calling me up, declaring his feelings in song...and always when I was unable to answer him back more than a "yes" or "uh-huh." Hijinks!

Why did this stick in my mind, you ask? Now that I'm awake, I'm trying to remember the '80s actor who played Mitchell because I recognized him mid-dream as *someone.* For now I'm sticking with Anthony Edwards a la "The Sure Thing," but be prepared for me to suddenly exclaim aloud at a future point when I realize who it actually was.

seven things to do today

Since this has turned into a list-mclistersen sort of blog (back to the roots, eh?), a breakdown of how I spent my day off (versus how I'd planned to use it):

* cleaned my bedroom - because it turns into a kingdom of piles when I'm busy at work in the evenings (somehow I can't justify messiness when I'm just busy at the Rotunda), and I no longer had room for new piles. Now everything that belongs in the closet is in the closet, everything that belongs on the bookshelf is on a shelf of some kind, and all the bits and pieces that needed to end up fixed are actually in the mending basket. (How did I turn into the sort of person who has a mending basket?)

* fix things in mending basket - isn't it enough that I know they're there?

* catch up on Netflix, DVR, and other loaned items - I probably lost half the dramatic tension Mr. DiCaprio built up by falling alseep in the middle of Shutter Island last night, but that's what I get for trying to watch a 2+ hour movie after my non-stop weekend. After some playful sassing in the booth yesterday, I also got around to Sunday in the Park with George (so it can finally go back to D-B). It's not my favorite Sondheim, but the end does make me cry. (Also, hello Brent Spiner, wh0 caused me to pause the movie until I could IBDB confirm it was in fact him.)

* go grocery shopping - because I need milk, yo. (Also, bread. And grapes while they're on sale.)

* reorganize kitchen cabinets - this ended up being not so much reorganizing as "moving boxes so everything fit in again, regardless of whether it was supposed to be in that particular place or not." This will prove poor planning when I need to bake something for the holidays.

* pick an outfit for the company Christmas photo - I should maybe do that next

* clean the bathroom - we're about to have company in for the Hatchback-Weatherbee wedding, which is a good reason to stop ignoring the fact that our bathroom is getting a little out of hand. Unfortunately, I chose long, involving movies to watch over scrubbing the ring off the tub. Sorry, Tink. I promise to take care of it before Friday.

Did I actually hit seven items? Hot-cha! I was just referencing my second favorite group of Canadian men (first favorite). ... and now I'm just watching other Kids in the Hall videos. Guess tomorrow's picture outfit will be a frantic morning decision instead.

some even from before I started sneaking in candy

Some movie related memories (in no particular order):

* It's my third viewing of Mulan in theaters, and I still jump when Shan-Yu pops out of the snow after the mountain pass battle. This is with reminding myself that he's about to pop out, you know where, don't jump when it happens, the falcon is swooping--ack! (Side note: I was convinced that Mulan would be nominated for Best Picture since it was totally better than Beauty and the Beast and yet had earned a nomination.)

* Last showing of Pirates of the Caribbean 2 of the night (which is a fairly awful movie, being a sequel and prequel of sorts all in one film), and end up sitting next to the Cute Boy I wanted to sit next to...but sharing an armrest with the poison ivy-covered arm, which led to the obvious awkward. He does let me eat all the popcorn.

* Though not a big fan of the Lord of the Rings movies, I find myself waiting in line for several hours for the final film while dressed as some sort of elvish person (sans pointy ears, as I have none). The rest of the friends I'm with are HUGE fans and are cleaning up at the pre-movie trivia contest. Later I'll be mad at the movie for having approximately fifteen false endings, but for now I want to use my wool cape as a blanket.

* In what will be the start of many late night movies to come, I find a last minute ride to the 10 p.m. (before the midnight showing!) Snakes on a Plane and meet with future Houstonite friends Will, B., and Dave. They let me make a matching sharpie t-shirt. People are dressed as planes and/or snakes, everyone is talking back to the screen, and no lines can be heard after Samuel L. Jackson's big catchphrase because the cheering is too loud. It's the most fun anyone ever had at any movie.

* We go to see 101 Dalmations (live action) because my cousin is OBSESSED with dalmations, but arrive too late to sit anywhere but the very front row. Afterward I joke that the puppies were as big as my head. This is incorrect; they were bigger.

here's your key

Last night's dream was some bizarro-world combination of Louis Sacher books, Doctor Who's "Blink," arson, architecture, and math class. Yes, math class. Let's just say that I'm more freaked out about angel statues than ever.

brought to you by the letters A, S, and M

Some lessons learned this week:
* One of the few superstitions I don't hold with is whistling in the theater. Sorry, stage hands of old.

* I think I really wouldn't be long-term happy doing a job not in theater. See for example: Hannah sitting at a scheduling desk and only working one show/Hannah working two shows at once and not working a scheduling desk. (The extra variables of scheduling, children's theater tech, and the current Mainstage certainly have their own affects, but still.)

* I had a third one earlier, but then Blogger ate my post. We'll go with instead "Translating cue calls into French is both educational and awesome. Also, fraught with mispronunciation."

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

This day started out kinda questionable, but has [mostly] only been up from stepping out the door. Thanks for being way more awesome than yesterday, October Sixth. I appreciate you, water bill guy, Rotunda rehearsals, two p.m. mail pick-up, Moxy Fruvous's "Live Noise" album, inexplicably free cable movie channels, voicemails once I realize that had been my phone ringing, and the cherry print dress from college that still fits.

HEAR YE!

This is to serve as record that today, 10/5/10, I sat down, composed a full letter*, and had it stamped to go out the next day. So much better than, well, the entire summer.


*Okay, so it's just a postcard, but I write really small.

This is me clearly not cleaning my cupboards, baking pumpkin bread, or doing anything else that I said I was going to do today.

(I am about to fold a load of laundry, if that counts.)

It doesn't matter if you're in the rural Midwest or downtown Houston, line-dried sheets just smell better.

My brain is formulating (based on my keyring, of all things) a post about how Houston has brought me closer to a lot of my childhood nerdiness, such as the Pompeii exhibit a few years back and the proximity to NASA. It in turn fuels a larger thing about how I kinda do love Houston, which was a scary epiphany for awhile. I really should feel nothing but grateful to a town which gave me another reason to love cheese, but you know how it goes. Much like a multi-series of how I fell in love with London, these posts will likely never make it to the actual blog. They're fun for me, though, in a class writing assignment way.

DVD Special Features, I love you.

On the docket for tomorrow: co-baby-sitting Little Monkey, special matinee show, popping in to birthday party (happily down the street from the theater), back in for evening show, catching up on whatever I can on the DVR before it explodes

On the docket for today: eventually getting out of bed and heading off for work, editing the ETC guide for the Rotunda show, evening show tonight, forcing self into bed early to prepare for Little Monkey

There was something [less boring] I wanted to post about, but I don't remember what anymore. For as often as I scribble things down on my hand, there's at least one I don't. Probably more. Sorry, universe.

What? Sometimes I can't find my mouse.

I love the pause/unpause spacebar function in iTunes more than words can express.

FALL WEATHER BLISS

Why am I inside right now? And why didn't I go swimming last Monday off like I'd wanted? (It's much too fall now, as I suppose I should expect from the end of September.)

Two ephiphanies from the weekend:
* I used to be second in my class, and now I run around in a mascot costume. I find this funny rather than sad. (Mostly because I do a *lot* more than mascot costumes. I don't know if it would be a depressing thought if I didn't have more.)

* Lions must be the natural predator of acting bugs, as a lioness totally stalked Ta-Daa while I was walking past their pen. (We walked over, she moved to the fence; we walked down the path, she followed us on her side of the fence; I knelt down to be closer to the wee ones, she would pop up to try and see where I went.) I found this amusing, but not as much as the people who weren't in the suit themselves.

1901

I keep starting blog posts, not finishing them, saving them to drafts, and moving on with my life. Clearly I'm working out what's in my brain without the need to share it with others, which may or may not actually be helpful.

Apparently I'm not having a post production meeting today as people keep leaving me notes (or, just now) texting me that they won't be available. When I compare what our post-PMs have become (all about the budget) versus Sunday morning's conversation about what some of us would rather have (completely focused on what did or did not work with constructive criticism for the future), I know what camp we'll be in today.

Yeah, I don't know why I'm watching "Mamma Mia" at midnight, either.

I kinda hope my Mom was secretly in a girl group when she was younger so they can make a special guest appearance at my hen party some day [far] in the future.

Maybe I'll just need to do karaoke and sing Super Trooper.

happiness is...

...remembering the dispenser of bubble gum in your desk just as your enthusiasm for typing up the show script completely dropped off. (Did you know I concentrate better if I'm chewing something while I type/write/etc.? This is how I developed an unhealthy Tootside Roll habit in college.)

Related only in that I needed them while opening said dispenser: I'm kinda glad that I chewed off all my fingernails during tech week. I had promised myself a manicure treat if I mangaged to keep them intact, but now I can spend that money at Borders instead.

(what's extra fun about strange post titles is trying to remember what I meant several years down the line - it's like playing a game with my college self)

I think I'm contractually obligated (what? go with it) to do a flippant post of some sort after every long-form, exposing one's faults post. Please enjoy the following.

* I planted seeds batch 2.0 over the weekend, and already little green bits are popping out of the soil. Moments like this give me so much joy I automatically forget how sad I am when I inevitably kill them all off three weeks later.

* I recently discoverd that I *had* taken pictures while on my vacation a month ago, both hiding on my phone. One is an Iowa cornfield, the other is a grouping of burgers, showing that no longer must the isolated burger be isolated.

* I'm not going to suss out a link to the above statement (though I bet there is one) because I'm suddnely remembering to eat dinner. I like eating food, so there you go.

airplanes, pt. 2

I feel somewhat obligated to talk about opening, what with the stress and bad eating habits it's brought about in my life these past few weeks. I even started a post, but it took a fast spiral to the depths of emo-land that I needed to restart. (Who wants to read what 13-year-old me would've written to get pity from others? Nobody, that's who.)

You want the sum up? I don't always believe it when people say I'm a good stage manager, and that can make stressful rehearsals difficult. I'm working on this.

ANYWAY.

After Thursday's awfully-off performance (the only positive thing was that all the actors and myself had our blunders), having Friday go so very, very well was actually even sweeter. (And, with that many ADPers in attendance at the same time, so much the better. Y'all are more pressure than critics.) Lines mostly occurred where written, transitions started picking up time, cue calls found some stability, and there was free chicken afterward. It even helped with minor problems that popped up the rest of the weekend; if one performance could pull together so exceptionally well, certainly it could do so again.

I'm rambling slightly now (no really, you don't know how much I've deleted and tried to re-edit so far), and I'll admit to being concerned what we'll look like Wednesday night when we've been away for three days, but at least I don't miss the children's theater quite as much anymore. So, ultimately, thanks to everyone for your patience and prayers this past month. I know I haven't been a total picnic since I came back from MO (maybe taking such an awesome vacation wasn't the best choice just before stressful rehearsal time?), but I appreciate people still trying to be friendly all the same.

[Fun fact: this was not at all the post I thought I was going to write tonight.]

not on the checklist

I was trying to think of what I'd forgotten to do next before tonight's opening performance....and then I realized it was "remove food from microwave and eat it."

(I maybe should've just edited these together, OR con't con't rocking out)

I don't know if it actually counts as "rocking out," but I do dearly love the "Year with Frog and Toad" soundtrack. If we had the royalties budget, I'd suggest it for a future season.

(As is, any children's theater that has performed it gets an extra asterisk in my brain when I look at such information as other theaters, especially those in a more Midwestern location.)

((Also-also, my sort of wanting to play one of the obnoxious birds is very much influenced by the fact that one is sung by the same person who was the original Little Red in "Into the Woods."))

continued rocking out at the desk

I can't think of Jars of Clay's "Love Song for a Savior" without picturing late nights in Jefferson City, windows rolled down, and the capital lights in the distance.

best by

I didn't think I was having a stressful day, but something must be up seeing as I just ate a package of ancient Pop Rocks. (How old were they? They'd solidified into one large, sticky, no-longer-poppy mass that I pried off the packaging with my teeth like a melted candy bar.)

In other news, first preview for Daisy is tonight, and the shop staff is getting high on my sugar stash.

rocking out in the office

One of my regrets from the past year: I should've seen OK GO while they were in town.

(Also, the fact that I haven't made it out to a Flogging Molly show any of the times they've been close shames me slightly.)

your make-up needs make-up!

You know what makes me giggle EVERY TIME? Seeing "just got feet, don't got shoes" in the previous post, in bold, blue font.

You know what makes me an English major? That I just had a debate with my writer self about whether or not I could leave out the comma after "bold" in the above sentence. ("...but technically the color isn't called 'bold blue,' so that means it's two seperate adjectives...")

You know what I don't have a third question for? This post. (That'll do.)

(sadly, I was too busy with Daisy to mention this until now)

I had a genuine Kids in the Hall moment this morning as the woman also waiting at the bus stop asked me for directions, confirmed the price for a single ride, and then apologized for not being able to speak English. As I'm pretty sure my brain didn't suddenly stumble into fluency for Spanish, I have to assume I instead tumbled into a Canadian sketch comedy act.

In case you're more confused than ever, Just got feet; don't got shoes.

because--right now--what's the point?

...and in anti-London news (for once), I haven't let myself open the weekly Time Out London email for at least two months because it's not like I'd be taking advantage of the week's Best Bets right now anyway.

way to be, seven year old me

You know what's still awesome? Slightly stale animal crackers from the Barnum's box on a string (that totally could double for a purse once you were done). Could someone please bring a glass of milk to my office so I could enjoy this even more?

hoggy woggy Hogwarts

I know I talk about London a *bunch* (and I'm about to do it again), but I really should be there some year on September 1 so I can take my First Day at Hogwarts picture at King's Cross Station. (Do you think I could rent an owl for an hour?)

THINGS THAT HELP

(because I need to focus on the positive little things rather than all the obnoxious negatives)

* hug sandwiches!

* random post-its left on my desk

* a certain Famous Actor's faces made while sitting in the far corner during rehearsal

* discovering the backyard had been weeded for me by the complex

* library books on hold

* remembering the number of people who want me to stay sane (vs. the ones trying to drive me crazy) is really quite high

* focusing on being flattered that so many people think I'm the most responsible one to handle their problem

(I'm trying to use Twitter less and blog more. I don't know that it'll help expand anything.)

I love buying a new CD because you get to discover what song you'll be obsessed with for the next few days. (Oh, Sia, why must you be so pretty?)

Further goals for the day: watch some Netflix, accomplish some fix-it stitching on Spotlighter dress options (fun fact: my costume class dress fits me better now than when I made it for a grade), and take care of designer certificates before tomorrow morning.

Hey! Look at me posting again!

There's not a single time I'm at the front of the New Testament and don't think to myself "Matthew-Mark puked on John."

(And then I was chased by bad guys, action movie style, after I'd run into college pal Courtney and her husband, who were in town and are apparently good to have around in an extended chase sequence.)

I dreamed last night that I was in England, took a tour of a giant (outdoor? I think it was outdoor) opera company that somehow allowed me to sit in on a rehearsal with the other techies, and--when they saw that I was instinctively taking down blocking--offered me a job. [Recap: a job, in theater, in *England*] Wow, hugging, joy.....and then I decided that I couldn't actually take the position because I have commitments with my current job.

I don't know that I would be this loyal in real life.


[What's extra interesting about this to me is that earlier in the week when I had made my way to the travel guide section of Borders, like usual, I asked myself where I would go if money, language, whatever was no issue. And then I promptly walked to the Greece section. I'm not sure what to do with that information, except blame an early love of mythology and the Traveling Pants series. Also, who wants to go to Australia while I try to learn Greek?]

on a palm tree plate

Cold piece of pizza, you and this glass of milk are the cool, dairy-licious caper to the end of this very long day. Bless you and your bits of bacon.

"tidbits" should be the name of this blog, since that's what I post in

A bulleted list! Aren't you excited?

* Watching "The Departed" on basic cable just doesn't have quite the same effect as the DVD cut. Such as, you start making fun of Leo and Matt for all their substitute cuss words.

* When you wake up due to an overly itchy bug bite, and the first solution your brain springs up is to chew your finger off, you maybe shouldn't have read the zombie book before falling asleep. (Or, you should stop going outside without bug spray.)

* I imagine my microwavable lunch of today was on sale because it takes 11 minutes to cook. What the what, people. (Note to future self: check cooking times before buying things because they are a dollar.) [Edited after a few bites: actually, it's probably on sale because it's *awful.* Who knew the vegetables would ever be my favorite part of a meal?]

okay, so...life

I got back from vacation a week ago, though the majority of my unpacking boils down to pulling out toiletries and shoes as needed. As much as I like coming back to the routine of work (and I really do), I often feel like fleeing back to where I'd been for the first couple of days. [Side note: it seriously doesn't help this how many people tell me how much they've missed me, especially when it starts coming from those I don't deal with often. I like you all, but you scare me a little when I come back from vacations. Just so you know.]

Of course, who wouldn't trade in sitting behind a desk or running rehearsals for eating homecooked meals, having surprises at pizza parties, shoe shopping, canoeing on the local lake, visiting with college friends, watching my cousin as Elvis, cooking hot dogs over an open flame, rereading childhood books, crafting at 3 a.m., assembling classroom bulletin boards, and discovering Seventeen magazines from over five years ago (or, more specifically, making fun of their Next Big Thing lists). Sadly, none of these things come with a paycheck (maybe the bulletin board thing if I'd worked it right), so back to Texas it was.

Rehearsals have been fine, if a bit dull, so far. We were supposed to start blocking on Tuesday [after the week of read-throughs while I was gone], but have continued to be mainly around the table. It's not like it'll be complicated to block (probably 3/5 happens while seated in a car), but it'd be nice to have something else to do besides keep an eye on the script and make lists. (Getting out early each day has been pretty nice, though.)

Spotlighter is Spotlighter. I did pull rank and decide not to stage manage *and* be the blue bug this year, but that's also somewhat because the earlier entrance (compared to last year) would mean I'd have to call places already in the suit. Amusing, yes. Productive, no. (For once, productive is going to win. Clearly, I'm maturing.)

Things to do the rest of today: unpack, watch Netflix, go grocery shopping, weed plants, bake brownies, clean out DVR.

Texas tree frog says cricky cricky crick

There are too many thoughts in my head to blog properly. (But at least there's now a new nonsense title phrase at the top of the page. No, *you're* welcome.)

chicka-chicka-boom

We're back in Missouri, which is one of those sentences I only get to type about twice per year. It makes me happy, with a twinge of "eee!" attached. (A happy "eee!," don't worry.)

I am concerned with my mother's T key, as it apparently doesn't like life. I'm afraid it might do something desperate if its demands are not met soon.

Ways this was a good day (in no particular order, because I'm getting sleepy):
* steak for dinner (which is a big change from high school Hannah, who wouldn't've come anywhere near such food)

* managing to finish three books before showing up in the world of Babysitter's Club Super Specials, the only thing I seem to read when I'm in MO and have access again

* running into dear Lemon Drop in the Kirksville Hastings, just one week before he flees to Chicago (leaving my college town devoid of the last student person I knew in town). There was lifting-into-air hugging.

* I thought of something else while in the car, but I didn't write it down and it is thus lost to history.

I could do a list of why this weekend has been awesome, but I need to take a shower and go to bed so I can be up and ready for things before eight tomorrow. (Such is my love for my Mom and decorating her school room.) It basically boils down to seeing so many people I haven't seen in ages (some cases years) and getting to sit around eating food and swapping stories with most of them, so you can fill it in for yourself. I'm going to wash out my traveling pigtails, crawl into bed, and read a few more chapters about the BSC's adventures out west.

Happy birthday, Jo and Harry!

(My mom has pulled up this page each time I've seen her do her internet loop [email/facebook/blogs], so I thought I'd add something. That's all.)

Happy fourth, self!

It's a joke I've already used today (Hi, Paul! New letter soon! Possibly with a MO postmark!), but part of my brain wonders where my Texas degree went. Surely I've been earning a Masters in Humidity or B.A. (Bachelors of Ate-Stuff) in Queso rather than living the past four years as an adult.

Clearly I've only managed to pass courses in denial, but my thesis on quesadillas in the River Oaks area will hopefully send me over the top.

What? I don't know either. I'm a little bit two-days-from-vacation bouncy (and a touch of Spotlighter-meeting-canceled-hurrah! slaphappy), so it's okay if you don't follow the above. I'm currently listening to RJ yell at her Excel file and trying to find better info about whether or not I can bring half of pan of brownies in my carry-on luggage.

early '90s mix in the S Office today

My favorite part of Len's "Steal My Sunshine" is the line
"L-A-T-E-R that week..."

(edited to add)
Why, YES, we do need to hear Freddie Mercury at that volume. Please turn it into thoughts about "Shaun of the Dead" if it bothers you.

(edited edited to add)
zed-word violence!

calendaring

This time last year I was on a flight home from London (after a last minute stop at the airport duty-free candy store, where I splurged on a better Kinder Egg price rate than Candylicious has ever offered).

Next Tuesday is the four year anniversary of my move to Texas. I'll probably eat at Chuy's to celebrate, especially since I think there's a Spotlighter production meeting that day and I'll want something positive to look forward to at the end of the day. (The Tex-Mex light at the end of the tunnel, if you will.)

A week from today I fly home to Missouri for a week of family, lessened humidity (maybe?), and no work. For a moment I thought I was flying on the day of my anniversary, which would've been it's own blog post of weirdness.

Today: I am going to take lunch, hurrah hot pocket!

1868 68 155

I'm sorry for the absolute dead air, but I promised I would be less flippant the next time. Sadly, it's a lot easier to just talk flippant things (I have a doozy of ridiculousness I want to showcase) than to go over the rollercoaster of the past week.

Let's focus on the positives: I get to come home for over a week...and it's happening one week from tomorrow. Fun! When I started reminiscing about driving curvy country roads at night, the oldies station fuzzying in and out while watching for deer trying to race across your path, it was extra time to head to MO. (It helps that the same week, my Mom mentioned that she wasn't going to be able to do a Texas trip and we worked out that I could head north instead.) Taking this trip will pull me out of the first week of MS1 rehearsals (Have you heard? I'm stage managing two mainstages next season....would you like to point me toward an affordable scooter store?) and I'm not a fan of that. But, choosing between a week of tablework with the artistic director and my mother's caramel brownies on the weight scale tends to tip toward chocolate.

The impending trip home has helped my general attitude toward Texas, which was on a downward spiral (even farther than I realized before I knew I was going to leave for a week). I love what I do here (more so when I'm actually working on shows, but not all desk days are boring), and don't feel like I'm supposed to pick up my tent yet, but it's hard to live so far away from family.

Anyway. Here's a bit of flippancy to get us back where this blog normally heads:

Yes, it's a giant purse that looks like a horse. Not only that, but it's a giant purse that looks like a horse and cost over $100 dollars. For that much money you'd hope it wouldn't be so creepy. (I think Coraline's Other Mother has one of these for her evenings out.)

I think they're pretending to be sea lions???

Goodness, these children in the pool are LOUD. Also, lesson that I should've learned by now: never wear a skirt when you're going to be sitting outside near water at dusk in Texas. (Though it apparently leads to sentences with bouncy rhythm.)

I spent my day off by getting out of bed when I'd normally be pulling up my email at work, watching an old Muppets sing-a-long VHS and most of a disc of Wonderfalls, reading through cookbooks like I actually use them, and cleaning while wearing the above-mentioned skirt (which lends a nice '50s housewife vibe, with or without an apron).

I didn't get to most of my to-do list (dang it, Katie Finneran, for being so entertaining!), but my kitchen floor is glistening with a freshly bleached shine, so I still call today a win. (Though my bottle of chocolate milk is still at work, and will probably stay there until at least Wednesday before I can rescue it.)


Things I Should Be Doing Instead Right Now:
* revamping my grocery list (now that I've looked at all those recipes)
* (actually, that's all I can think of...short of promising a less flippant post, as I will likely spend a day at work before posting next?)

I don't have a reliable pterodactyl impression.

This is called "Hannah had a bad day:"



You may note that it's the large half gallon size. (So we can also call it "Hannah was being economical?")

On the plus side, since they added a speaker to play the preshow music in the lobby, I'm currently rocking out to "Take Me Home, Country Roads." Thanks, John Denver.

side note: the Houston skyline fireworks made me miss the St. Louis extravaganza

(side-side note: I started this Sunday night, but was kicked out of the pool area by a maintenance man locking the gate. People actually enforcing pool closure hours? Crazy!)

Ways in which I've been all patriotic-like today:
* grilled chicken for dinner (bonus points for doing so on a George Foreman grill?)

* watched Apollo 13 and cried (like usual) during the radio silence section toward the end

* prayed for country leaders during morning service

* um, I'm currently wearing blue?

Okay, so I also spent a fair amount of the day with the BBC on in the background (which is likely less than American), but I did so while crafting with American newspapers, so it evens out, right?

Is it alright?

Without going into the whys and whats for those not familiar with the show, but--were I still in school and needing a paper about a broadway musical--I'd totally write about the song "Cue Music" from "Passing Strange" and what it says about the playwright/lyricist/inspiration of the show, Stew.

Also, I might write about how a guy gets the nickname Stew.


I'm torn between completely chucking the old stage manager handbook (Updated August 4, 1999!) and continuing this process of section by section editing. The problem with it is that it's set up to be both a general "so you want to be a stage manager?" handbook AND a more detailed how-to on our specific venues, often at the same time. I'm trying to seperate both out to their own sections (and then subcategorized between Grace and Rotunda), so I'm constantly moving back and forth between sections. Also, a bigger problem is that I'm tired (what up, three a.m. bedtime! how's it hanging, 6:30 stomach clock?) and only care so much at the moment.

Yeah, I totally bit off all my fingernails this morning.

Someone's been sending my parents baby coupons and samples in the mail in my name, so if whoever's trying to imply to my mother that I'm pregnant could lay off the false hints, that'd be great. Also, send her some free chocolate, because she doesn't need baby formula.

I went floating down the Guadalupe River this past weekend [life checkmark!] with a church group, so my back currently features an interesting red design of cross-crossed marks. It took a long time to drive up there....and to stand around for a bus to get to the river....and to be organized enough to leave and drive back (Fun fact: some of the people we knew were told to get on a differet, less-full-to-capacity bus and were then not seen again for about four hours, as they were taken to a different drop point. Whoops.), but it was lovely to float down the river. At one point, a person's radio started playing "Sweet Child o' Mine" as a breeze rustled the cypress branches blocking the full sun and if that isn't summer's version of heaven, I don't know what could be better.

Phew. For a moment, I was stuck with a preposition at the end of that sentence, and that's not going to fly.

Probably bad (but amusing) idea: saving my Walmart trip for tomorrow evening/Wednesday morning, as I'll be at the AMC all evening for the Twilight bonanza with Deb. Crazy Dunvale Walmart at 3 a.m.? Oh dear. (Of course, the same "oh dear" could be used to describe spending one's evening at the Twilight bonanza, but let's not judge things here.)

bumblebee

Apparently all it takes to make me happy is a letter from a far away...and the enclosed stickers only sweeten it. Thanks, Sad Monkey.

I've discovered the black hole of no internet...

...and it is called my office, since the internet works (wired or plugged) in every other room of the building. I'm currently in the chapel/library/greenroom, where at least I get the benefit of a comfotable couch.

Things to do this weekend:
* pick up where I left off in the cleaning out the closet project, as the room currently looks like I'm about to move out of the dorms (lots of piles, lots of Rubbermaid containers, lots and lots of shoes)

* support Pixar and go to the movies?

* pull out the various craft projects that I've wanted to finish, all the more so from finding the odds and ends while cleaning

* stop being afraid to clean my oven (which is the first step toward cleaning the oven, while somehow not yet managing to clean it)

* finish proofing the playbill for Iowa, since I'm clearly not doing so right now

* watch all the Broadway-related programing I taped the past week that I've yet to tackle

* get the music from Passing Strange out of my head

* continue not biting nails, as this has been good progress so far

We have appointments to look at new apartments tomorrow.

It's wonderful how much discussing something with your mother can help to stop, reassess, and pull the stress out of a situation. Teenage Hannah--if you ever get a time machine and see this ahead of schedule--take note.

Unrelated (as I am wont to do): I am mad at Facebook for having a picture of a super cute dress in an ad that does not link directly to said dress, thus causing me to search through the full listings. I know you need to keep making money to continue delivering the cute vintage look, Mod Cloth, but could you cut a girl some slack?

another Anastacia fun fact: I used to practice vocal support by attempting to hold out the ending note of "Journey to the Past" longer than the onscreen singer

I think I like bruises because it reminds me I do more than a desk job. I liked bruises (not the receiving them, but the artistic after-effects) even before it was a job thing. There's something that feels very hearty Midwesterner about bruising. There's also something very "ow ow ow...can't cross my legs" about my present bruising (one left knee, one right thigh), but only because I didn't have the good sense to fall on something that wouldn't matter. Or, not fall at all.

Frankly, I wanted to expand this more, but I'm totally about to fall asleep and get carried away by the Texas mosquitos. As much fun as that might be (would it?), I should probably call it a night. The laptop does make a nice heating pad on my still sore leg, though.

I tried for hours to find this quote last night

It's really okay for people to get old and die because in heaven you get to play with all the balloons you ever lost.
-Amy Krouse Rosenthal

How frequently have I typed the word "ominously" that the spellcheck automatically takes out the extra m when I type it wrong?

You know what eats up a bunch of your workday? Not having to come in until eleven because you worked the sound board the night before. (Also, choosing the bus that would pause three stops later to wait for the Metro Police to remove the guy up front who was too drugged-out to pay attention to the driver.)

Sorry, I took a brief break to see if there were leftover pumpkin muffins in the dressing room across the hall. There were not. Now I need to convince myself to go forage for leftover development event food in the fridge, because taking a lunch break is another way to speed along the end of the day.

sitting by the pool, letting the humidity dry my hair

I keep thinking I've written a new post, only to be reminded that I've only drafted half-thought ideas in the last few days (and haven't posted any of them yet - thank you, brain).

It's weird to not have the immediate demands of a show in performance everyday...which is likely why I volunteered to ASM the second company performance. I no longer handle "work in your own time" projects quite so well now that I don't eventually need to turn them in for a grade. (Things to do this summer: work on the company SM handbook, eventually enter in next season's calendar, retype scripts or else conquer the new copy machine)

At this rate, I'm never going to get that second batch of brownies done. Sorry, world.

it must be approaching payday...all I do is think about food

If my peanut butter (that I KNOW I purchased) isn't in my pantry, and isn't in my desk at work, where did it go? Is it taking a field trip with an unopened jar of queso and a seldom used tin of pepper to see the big city? I hate to tell you, various condiments and foodstuffs, but you're already in the big city.

Clearly someone was attempting to save my bank account, as the whole world neglected to tell me that HEB sells Jaffa cakes, the chocoately-orangey-Britishy-cakes that will now bankrupt me five dollars at a time.

Note to self: even if it's the one on sale, avoid the devil's food cake mix with pudding in the batter because brownies generally mean brownies, not molten piles of hot chocolately half-heartedly held together with caramel. It still tastes delicious, but it's much harder to play cards with one hand covered in chocolate.

....also

Will: the book I was talking about was "Watching the English."

I wished Good Morning America had some sort of listener call in line this morning, because I wanted to yell at them that their interrpetation of the LOST finale was so completely opposite of what [I believe] had really gone down.

Thank you, sun, for going behind that cloud.

life, lately

The previous post became oddly predictive, as I officially became one of those stage managers as of about yesterday evening. I don't know where that video file will go, but I need a copy. (No ponies in my version, though.)

We closed the children's show, and season, as of this afternoon. I'm sorta out of a job until the fall, as we all know me sitting at a desk all summer is going to be more about multi-hour games of Spider Solitaire or worse, box office coverage. While I'm plotting all sorts of projects at the moment, I don't know how many will actually come to fruition.

"Come to fruition" is a funny sounding phrase.

Some other quick takes:
* I enjoyed Zombieland way more than I thought I would, despite the (obviously) large number of zombies involved. I did have to follow it with happy fluff before I could go to bed, and naturally avoid the bathroom. (Do we all remember when I used to be sure I would someday find a zombie in my shower? Oh, college days.)

* Somebody needs to get me a copy of Tim Minchin's Matilda soundtrack, because I cannot just live on Rock and Roll Nerd forever. Also, if someone would like to ship me across ponds and get me a job with the original company staging of Tim Minchin's Matilda, that would be an even bigger thanks.

* I cannot keep track of the number of nights I've fallen asleep to the same "Wait Wait Don't Tell Me" podcast, and don't feel inclined to check the play count. I'll finish you someday, April 20th!

* Between all the gift cards currently in my possession (and that lovely $5 off anything coupon from Borders sitting in my inbox), how do I not have a package coming my way from an internet site? Why am I missing out on package tracking?

* I'm out of items.

Oh Dear.

So what's truly terrifying about the about the video of large, live action My Little Ponies lip-syncing to Dreamgirls and Wicked aren't so much the large, live action ponies as the internal light cues, quality sound system, and use of set piece as ramp mean there was a (somewhat demented) stage manager involved with this process, and we all know I'd be the sort of SM to approve my actors making a gift video like this.

I have nothing to say, but will treat you to saved pictures from my phone instead.

And how fun, no commentary either! (Why? Mostly because I've forgotten what posted in what order, and don't feel inclined to check.)

the nothing much to post post

It's starting to spit rain (of course it is, I already watered my plants), so I should maybe not bother with posting when I don't have anything special to say.

Our kitchen is no longer covered in water, and our sink has stopped producing soil, so that's two pluses. I'm not sure how soil gushing up from our drain has been the most panic-inducing part of my week (which included a missing Cheshire Cat costume found fifteen minutes before curtain and a possible impending director-going-on-as-understudy in the morning), but there you have it. Maybe because it made me wonder if I'd been drowning plants in the sink while sleeping?

You know what constantly makes me happy? This clip.

I can tell they've freshly chlorined the pool becuase sitting here is making me slightly ill. Perhaps the rain will fix that.

At first I was thrilled with the approximately 12.5 seconds it takes to brush my newly-shortened hair in the morning...until I realized that all the extra attention it's receiving makes me want to (*gasp*) style and fluff and generally girl-ify my hair. I give it two weeks before I stop caring again.

drip drip drip

THANKS

I know we all know that face I make when I get fussed over (see, for example, this morning when my cast wished me a happy birthday), but I really do appreciate the well-wishes, cards left for me to find, free ice cream (lit on fire!), whistle solos, drum sets assembled while the pianist tried to play Wipe-out, time to repot plants, free parking after 6 p.m., a particularly good Neil Diamond impersonation, the classic movie Clue, musical text messages, crunchy quesadillas, birthday mad libs, British miniseries in the mail, borrowed cars for the evening, the homemade dancing celery music video, and the watermelon Blow-Pop from the House of Blues restroom (because like I'm going to choose from their selection of perfumes when there's candy to be had).

I said it elsewhere, but I'll repeat it: if the rest of the year matches the one day trend, twenty-six is going to be awesome.

but tomorrow/there'll be sun

I forgot about this at the time, but it keeps popping back into my brain (probably because it's such a thing that I would do myself). When the Russian adoption thing first broke a couple weeks ago, one of the commentators actually used the phrase "bet you bottom dollar" (featured prominently in the musical "Annie"), and I could hear her mentally say "check! bet won!" over the rest of the segment.

At this point, I might as well stay outside, since my keyboard hasn't shorted out already from the amount of rain on the keys.

I'm a bit glad that I hadn't watered my plants yet tonight, seeing as they'll probably all be flooded by morning with or without my efforts. (Have I mentioned that most of my wee tiny seeds have sprouted into somewhat less tiny green leaf things? I'm alternatingly really happy that all but one pot has actually managed to grown and filled with dread of all the repotting I need to do since more seeds forced their way to the surface than I thought would survive. Most days I sit at work and dream of all the garden work I would rather be doing....and then watch Netflix once I get home. I'm a bad plant mommy.)

There seems to be some sort of sing-a-long taking place around the corner from where I'm sitting. Perhaps what I thought wasn't grilling actually is grilling somewhere. What? Go to bed, Hannah.

There's a woman out here having some sort of soda machine emergency. Involves running, lots and lots of running. (Also loud profanity and a possible dog.)

And to think I didn't want to go to the mall because I didn't want to be around crazy people.

I'm actually outside tonight not for fake farming (though I'll do that as well) or email checking, but to watch fanvids of a British TV show that will likely end in a not-to-be-continued cliffhanger with the season finale next week. I've kinda earned it, as I finally potted the rest of my plants (after engineering pots out of plastic party candy dishes and queso lids) and ate a meal a real grown-up would cook.

BTW, why is it that I can eat a microwave pizza and feel just dandy, but after cooking a pan full of fried chicken and a baked potato, need to refuel after an hour? Does the time put into the cooking somehow lessen the fulfilment of the meal? Because I'd think it was the opposite.

They're working on our parking lot right now (suddenly, all the people who've driven myself or DD home lately shouted a hallelujah), which has the great perk of the fire-entrance fence ten feet from our door is open for the construction trucks to get around. What's that, five minutes I can save tomorrow by not having to go out and around the front half of our building? Why, yes, I will use you to sleep later.

This slightly stream of consciousness post brought to you by the best plate of fried chicken I've made yet. Also, the letter U.

I can't wait for it to be warm enough to swim in the evenings.

Right now, it's pretty BRR GO INSIDE by the pool, but it's the closest wi-fi this side of Westheimer, and I'm certainly not going to the mall at this hour.

I bought party decoration cups to use as planters, seeing as I ended up with more seeds than pots. Of course, then I ate dinner and watched TV and organized some computer files and did all manner of inside things that prevented me from actually putting Operation: Fancy Pots into action.

(What is with me and the organizing of computer files? Can I get that as a job? Because it sometimes feels like I don't do anything on my computer but rearrange the way I'd access the files I'm not accessing.)

I like that the first full afternoon I have in my office after tech week and opening consisted of my computer making a RRRRing sound of death and a higher-up wondering why I hadn't had the time to get next year's schedule to the box office yet. Boo. Shifts Sudoku for the Mainstage did get accomplished, so hurrah.

Finally, I just read the error message on my farmville (yes, sorry) page as "...investigating reports of loading issues, neighbors missing, and pestilence."

Did you know I was still alive?

Because if all you knew about me came from my internet activity, you'd be looking for a pulse by now.

It's been a long tech week (though surely not as long for me as it has been for others), but really all I wanted to do was pot some plants. I finally managed that this afternoon, after both a dress/tech rehearsal in the morning and a birthday party booking in the afternoon. We played croquet with inflatable flamingos. It didn't work well, but was highly entertaining to watch.

[excuse me for a moment, as I'm slightly hit on by someone at the complex for a barbeque up front]

Anyway. The show is finally in a spot where it looks like a show, which is always a good point. There's a part of me always fairly amazed that a show comes together...while the other half never doubted that it would. I'm not going to think any more about it (well, maybe I'll edit a bit more on the ETC guide) until Monday morning, so I guess that means it's time for faux-farming.

TWEET TWEET TWEET TWEET TWEET TWEET

What's extra sad about waking up this early is that my brain is about 85% likely not to think about falling asleep tonight until 11:30ish. (please, please, please brain, prove me wrong)

Dear Ants, I would be much less likely to squish you to deathville if you wouldn't bite me between my toes. Love, Hannah

Why between the toes? It boggles the brain.

I'm so glad that I picked up on the urge to weed/sweep/generally spruce our backyard (such as it is) when I did, because this week has been the perfect "sitting outside enjoying life" weather. Of course, it's also made me want to put out some bird feeders, buy some plants that have already made it past the seed stage and would therefore already be blooming, and possibly buy a tree. Did you know that I've spent quite a bit of time lately wondering how affective it would be to spread out a bunch of potting soil and scatter some wildflowers, just to fill in the otherwise weedy parts of the yard? Clearly, I'm great at thinking in moderation and practicality lately.

Only somewhat related (per usual): what I miss most about having a real backyard (as in, more than my 20'x5' along the back of the apartment) is a hose hooked up to an outdoor faucet for that crisp, metallicy taste of summer.

(that I tend to finish past midnight doesn't help, either)

When I wake up the day after with the ceiling fan on, circulating the smell of fresh laundry from all the pieces that weren't quite dry upon coming out of the dryer (and thus are hanging, draped across many ledges in my room), I feel like I'm back at the dorms.

Actually, I *am* partial to rooftops.

I was at first utterly perplexed, and then blissfully happy when I realized that one of the songs on near-constant repeat in my home life right now (Freelance Whales - Hannah) had magically ended up in my iTunes library as part of a free playlist download before I even knew it existed.

Thanks, Ugly Betty green screen, for sort of showing London.

I ordered new glasses this afternoon, and would happily post pictures here if I could get the website to save a large enough clip. They both meet Stormy approval, so you know they must be good.

If nothing else, it'll be nice to wear glasses with both nose pads, no scratches, and unchipped edges.

I made the Weatherly potato soup recipe tonight, and it probably wouldn't turned out better if I had actually followed it as written (rather than mixing everything at once, leaving little flour-butter clumps). The extra cheese was a good idea, though, as it always turns out to be.

Excuse me while I try to finally (finally FINALLY!) finish writing an overdue letter. (It's all drafted, Sad Monkey, I just have pull it all together into one place...preferably with a stamp on it.)

It's Rex Manning Day!

(Actually, it's Dog the Bounty Hunter Day at the local Borders, but (1) I've wanted to watch Empire Records for several days now and just haven't taken the time, and (2) I don't really fit with the Dog crowd anyway, judging by the folks wandering around the store, killing time after picking up their book signing copy of his latest.)

I'd already promised myself an end-of-run present for the delightful PITLOWV, though the Miller performance went so well today was its own bonus. (Sidenote: if an actor is going to sweat out his mic pack, at least it allows me to be on both headset and crew walkie-talkie, live mixing mic sounds on the not-quite-quarter of a million dollars sound board. It's nice to have stage managment rock star moments to remind me that I do love what I do, long hours and all.) After spending nearly two hours there, some things to love about the local Borders:

* 40% off coupon in my inbox the same day I was going to buy something no matter what? Don't mind if I do.

* Live Flogging Molly? On sale? The only thing better was the cashier, who will be purchasing his own copy. Also, I should apparently listen to more of the Pogues and Dubliners.

* Hurrah for the last copy of Fantastic Mr. Fox, the actual reason I was in the store!

* Props to Steve and Mark, who told me to walk off with the mislabeled to $9 CD when I took it to them (with a properly labeled $19 one) in honor of Dog the Bounty Hunter Day. Congratulations, you two are the reason I bought an extra CD.

this is called "I couldn't sleep anymore, but I certainly wasn't getting out of bed yet"

Just one day left of the prairie, which is probably good for my sanity. If this company has taught me anything, it's that maybe I wouldn't enjoy stage managing the same show for twenty years. (Also, it's taught me how *not* to be able to call shows like a regular SM anymore, as I'm used to running lights and only calling sound....and then have a brain freeze whenever I get to call two things at once.)

If I wasn't going to (hopefully) spend the afternoon after today's show asleep somewhere in the theater, I'd write down everything helpful about taking a show to Miller. If I can save someone (not even myself, but someone) a bit of the stress I've had this week over how things were going to go down, that'd be lovely. Apparently the only thing I really retained in the two years since we were last at the outdoor theater are the faces of the two sound guys, where the dressing rooms are, and that stage hands enjoy sassing the stage manager. (One of these I knew before, since they also enjoy it when the stage manager sasses back.)

"Maria! Try and forget you're a stage manager for once!"

Why am I watching something on TV that I have on DVD? Becuase I don't have the energy to leave my couch for the bookshelf ten feet behind me. I had forgotten how much I love "Slings and Arrows." (Season Two, when the apprentice SM is reading all the stage directions, including "long pause," is hysterical because I used to be that person.)

My online account is telling me that I blew through my text messages through the month already. It reset two days ago. I guess it counts each text per receiver, and not the individual text itself? (That's okay, I'll eat the extra five dollars to upgrade in honor of Jaydan Zachson, 9lbs. 10oz. and his crazy complicated labor this weekend.)

(Incidentally, I seem to always be referring to him as "Jaydan Zachson, 9lbs. 10oz.," and I'm not sure why.)

Like (somewhat consistent) magic, it seems St. Luke's won't give up the Rotunda on the last weekend of February again....which should coincide with Oscars weekend once more.

Excuse while I [1] finish this season of Slings and Arrows (Season 2! Mackers!) and [2] finish a letter I've been putting off for two months.

welcome in, welcome in/shame about the weather

I keep thinking I hear someone else in the theater with me, clunking doors and walking about. Instead of checking, though, I just blast my music louder to try and drown out, I don't know, the sound of ghosts or whatever. If someone actually is hear (and somehow reading my blog at the same time), please just let me know you're here. I don't really care enough to check, but it'd be nice to know.

I love finding the sour cream pocket of the Jason's baked potato. Also, kudos to my brain for requesting extra cheese, meaning I can add it in after the layer of toppings has already been consumed. High five, self!

My phone now plays the "We Just Got a Letter" song from Blue's Clues whenever a text comes in, so I've listen to a lot of Steve lately. If only he could finally release his next (not children's show) album, I could rock out to that instead of British boys.

scuttlebutt

I'm probably at the point where I should perhaps do something real about my shoulder, as this is the umpteenth time I've sat on the couch with a heating pad balance somewhere between shoulder blades and neck. (P.S. - thanks for the heating pad for Christmas, Grandma!) When brushing your hair causes shooting pain, no matter where, you probably need to bring about some changes in your life.

Things to change: stop shuffling set pieces, stop carrying heavy bags to and from various locations, remove permament resident stress monster (hi, Leroy!)

What I'll do instead: eh, maybe get a new ringtone

toasted not fried

The veggie chips aren't nearly as good as the sour cream and onion ones.

I feel like I'm on cough syrup, which would be awesome if I actually were. Most of the afternoon has been a strange, turn-your-head-too-fast-and-wait-for-your-brain-to-catch-up-again haze. It made some parts more entertaining, and it made some parts want me to burst into tears. Funsies, as Deb would say.

This is two days in a row that I've used the Foreman grill that I received for Christmas years ago. That makes it two more times that it's been used since Jessica moved out. I would've enjoyed it more if I felt inclined to do more than lay on the couch sipping milk and watching whatever's in from Netflix (or else Wonderfalls, haven't decided yet).

fun fact: I named my poor unused guitar Julia

Abby told me I should post about my dream about Colin Firth and the vampires, but now it's entirely too late/early, and all I really want to do is listen to The Beatles' Julia on repeat until I fall asleep in, hopefully, two minutes.

Because all that reminds me...I sort of want to save into one big word file all the blog posts, Facebook statuses, and Twitter tweets I've ever created, all in chronological order, just to have one huge record of my life the past eight or so years that I've been documenting my life online. Clearly I don't have enough to do already.

(hit repeat button [again] on player, press publish button, put laptop into sleep)

"and off to his lair each child he'll drag"

Fun fact: for most of the past month I've had "The Green Eyed Dragon," a song I sang for high school district music contest, stuck in my head off and on. While I remembered a remarkable portion of the music (working up a solo for Mrs. Cox will do that to your brain, even eight years later), it wasn't until today that I managed to track down the missing line mid-chorus that I've been hehmm-hum-hmmm-ing three times per song.

Further fun fact: somehow most internet folk lyric sites leave out the same three lines in the chorus, which just happen to include the line I've been missing, despite the fact that it would screw up the entire rhythm of the song

Furthest fun fact: you can probably catch me singing it to myself every morning, around 8:30ish, as I prep the Rotunda for the morning show.

Did anyone else notice that I apparently used Twitter today to have conversations with people while sitting in the box office?

I'm not quite certain how or why my entire self (physical and emotional) took a nosedive yesterday evening around five, but it certainly did and I apologize to all those who had to deal with me.

Because, interestingly enough, there is no situation in which I can't make myself feel worse, a brief list of all the ways that led to me hugging a manatee in a dark living room yesterday evening: feeling too bad to go to church, feeling bad about not going to church, getting emotional while reading a book about discerning God's will (to make up for not being at church), putting off dinner, discovering I'm likely too short to be a flight attendant (did anyone else know this was plan B?), the reminder that most stage management jobs are freelance and not a solid gig like I currently have, picking at the same scab, realizing I needed something to hug and only having access to a manatee. So, sadly, that's why I wasn't at an Oscar party; I would've been the one in the corner, crying every time I saw one of the Pixar people wearing their adventure badges.

Despite the lovely paragraph above, I'm feeling quite better today, though somewhat perplexed at what brought on the hurricane of emotions at all. Perhaps the popcorn gut of the day before had worked its way up into my brain?

Unrelated, but related in helping me feel better: how great is it that Joy Sikorski has a new book?

Noisettes - Never Forget You (on repeat)

I love it when you know just one song from a group, chance the odds and pick up the CD, and it turns out AWESOME. Way to be, Brit rockers.

The problem with having internet connection at home (however spotty it may be) is that you no longer have an excuse to not notice work emails outside of the office. The problem with spotty internet connection is that it sometimes eats your blog post the first time you draft it.

Anyway.

Is "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen" the most ridiculous movie of the past year? Please check one of the following:
* Yes.
* Yes.
* Did you see Megan Fox and her pet Decepticon-turned-Autobot? YES.

Oh, the things I get to see when fulfilling my goal to watch as many Oscar noms as possible. The only amusing thing was Rainn Wilson, and his four minutes was a very brief part of this 150+ running time. Shia LeBeouf, I expect better from you.

two actually related things (though only in my head)

I want to itch the scab (because it is itchy), but--when I do--the scab tends to fall off leaving the not-yet-healed skin exposed underneath, which is of course still itchy as well, and then I scratch that. Until it bleeds. This has been an ongoing cycle for weeks. (Apologies for the grossness and incredibly awkward punctuation.)


There's a game my brain likes to play called "Where Is My Watch?" The way you play is you become late for the bus in the morning as you search for your watch, and eventually stumble upon it in one of four usual places. (These four are (1) next to the bathroom sink, (2) on the rolling drawers next to my bed, (3) tucked under a magazine on the living room coffee table, (4) a bonus round unknown location that eventually forces you out the door sans clockware (the bonus evidently comes from creating the word "clockware").


Perhaps, sidenote speaking, I should mention that I ate cake for dinner ... and suddenly this post makes more sense.

TO DO

* laundry

* clean room

* eat something other than popcorn (yay best picture showcase!)

* finish (ridiculously overdue) Sad Monkey letter

* sort recyclables

* new glasses!

I always tear up when the gold medalist sings along with their nation anthem at the medal ceremony.

Quote saved in my phone, as typed in: If lions can be cute, I thought he was cute. Sarah (adult Simba) 12.18

I should get around to download some music, if for no other reason than I've run out of room in my phone's memo feature and have branched into the text message drafts box.

Did you know that the only thing keeping me from gaining twenty zillion pounds is that I'm unable to open a new jar of queso, even after all this time?

I cannot not stop and listen to Eva Cassidy's "Fields of Gold" whenever my computer (still unnamed!) chooses to pull it up.

Did I totally just do a post of twitter-type items? Survey says yes! (I'm going to bed.)

(told you the constant posting would cease soon)

My iTunes is playing some floaty song from their free holiday mix that I've apparently played three times before (and yet had no idea that I'd ever heard this song before).

(Don't worry, probably everything I write today will be disjointed and not match up with the following paragraph.)

While grocery shopping on Friday--which only occurred so I could prepurchase my Best Picture Showcase tickets at the discount rate. (Brief shout-out to AMC employee Paul, who had no idea what I was talking about when I came in [Discount? Showcase? Tickets two weeks in the future?] and fiddled with the computer until his screen matched my information. Where did this sentence start?), I picked up egg rolls for my Chinese New Year lunch today. I'll celebrate Valentine's later, when the candy goes on sale.

Yesterday was the fourth (fourth! sweet passage of time save us!) anniversary of spading, or "loving you so much it's upside down and with a stick." (Why, yes, there was lack of sleep involved in this quote/emotion/whatever.) I continue to not understand why more people don't get behind this concept whenever I try to introduce it to new folk. How can you not support an emotion so strong it reverses gravity and must be plugged to prevent overflowing? Maybe everyone who wasn't there at the slaphappy time (all those not named Angelfish and Merefin) immediately conjures up Bob Barker asking us to control the pet population with spaying? Because I could see where that would create a vastly different feeling than the one introduced by playing card spades.

Here's my one profound thought for the day (though somewhat negated by the fact that it came from a dream I was having about Kelly Clarkson and Keats): In a way, we will never be truly, endlessly, blissfully happy until we meet our Lord in Heaven. In the meantime, everything we do will still have a tinge of sadness. (Do with that what you will. I think Keats was trying to woo Fanny Brice with it, but Kelly kept singing. That'll teach me to keep music playing while I sleep.)

This post apparently brought to you by 2 a.m., because this is how I write (and especially punctuate) at that time of day, no matter what time it actually is at the moment.

with the giant scary chicken!

Occasionally I'll break out a "cheap-cheap, fun-fun" from the ubiquitous St. Louis* area commercial for Dirt Cheap, and I'm always a little sad that nobody from Texas gets the reference.



(*Things I that remind me of St. Louis: Saturday afternoon Cardinal games on channel 11, eating Ted Drews frozen custard while waiting in line for the Muny free seats, cheapo commercials for Dirt Cheap and Becky's Carpet and Tile Superstore)

I will not always post this often.

I was thinking about this as I--well, not quite frantically--added nominated movies to my Netflix queue (after upping my DVD-at-a-time amount). I think I'm so very obsessed with movie award shows, the Oscars in particular, because I have the ability to (with a bit of effort) see as many as the nominations as possible. I've never seen any Tony nominees before the award show itself, as much as I love watching the Tonys, and so many popular music nominees I could take or leave. Movies are an accessible thing, especially in my large, multi-cinema city. Besides, it's nice to sometimes see sturdy films rather than just Center Stage for the twenty-third time.

(Not that I'm ragging on Center Stage; it's a different kind of enjoyable film experience.)


Only related in that it was occuring while I was already awake and waiting for the live stream to be live: I don't think any predictions of six more weeks of winter really affects life in Texas, do you? And was it just me, or did the official holding Phil bear a striking appearance to Bill Murray?

meanwhile, the news talks about the remake of "We Are the World"

Who's the crazy person who woke up early to watch the live feed of the Oscar nominations? (Which currently consists of people finding seats and an occasional piercing beep?)

Meanwhile, please do as I do and check out the Razzies nominations and this, the first interview with Bill Watterson in fifteen years.