Hold me

I should apparently listen to Annie's recommendations more often as I've just finished "Edward Scissorhands" and now need to bike to Hastings or something. All the....and with the.....and

I just have no words. I'm going to dinner.

Firstly, Bless The 'Ville

I know I went downtown to try and pick up a pair of cheaper black pants to use for tech, but how could I resist the orange (like tang!) feather boa when The 'Ville, my favorite resale shop ever, was running a 50% off sale? I mean, that zebra print top that I'll never wear was a find enough as it was, without the orange (seriously - it's tang colored) feather boa now residing on my bed post).

Second. I watched "Cabaret" last night and was somewhat less than impressed. I mean, all the songs were still fabulous, but I just didn't care for the world of the musical outside of the club. Though "Tomorrow Belongs to Me" was just as powerful as it probably was back in the day.

I started off the day with "Alien" before I got about halfway and realized that I didn't really care for any of the characters, or that tiny issue of the aliens popping out of their stomachs. As such, I figured it was okay to turn it off.

"Monsoon Wedding" had some fabulous points, and I'd probably watch it again with people, but it didn't jump to "buy it buy it buy it" level. It flirted with it on several occassions (like I could with the boys using my tang-orange feather boa), but didn't quite reach.

And now I'm going to watch.........I don't know what yet.

"You're on your way to starting your own Blockbuster!"

Off a tip from Annie, who works in the media department of the library, I pulled out my list of movies I want to see and headed over to the library's second floor and the beautiful, wonderful media desk to rent more movies than should be humanly possible.

As the campus officially went on break sometime Friday evening, the library was shutting its doors for the weekend. While nothing could be checked out during this time, it also means nothing can be checked in, allowing for the shelf full of books hanging out in my room right now.

Granted, many people had gotten there before me, so I didn't get everything on my list. However, I do have a grand total of sixteen movies in my room. In alphabetically order:

* Alien - well, I've never seen it and I suppose I might as well

* All About Eve - THE movie about the backstage Hollywood world...or so I hear

* Cabaret - I've been meaning to watch this ever since I played the soundtrack approximately eight times in a row while working on my Hist and Lit paper last semester

* Casablanca - because, deep down inside, I hurt that I haven't seen this one yet

* Edward Scissorhands - well, I did owe Annie a favor for the tip...

* Fargo - per someone's recommendation (not that I remember who anymore)

* Monsoon Wedding - Michelle, who lived down the hall from me last year and exposed me to all sorts of fabulous movies, loved this one

* The Mystery of Edwin Drood - I didn't check the back first and thought it was a stage version of the musical (we have lots of those in the library), but apparently it's taken straight from the novel so I'll probably ignore it completely

* The Piano - Holly Hunter and Anna Paquin, yo!

* Pride and Prejudice - yup, the A&E or BBC or whatever six-VHS-long miniseries starring Colin Firth...all because I asked the media desk worker if there was anything she'd recommend "while I was at it"

* The Usual Suspects - because Mom and Caleb had seen it and wanted to talk about it in Wal-Mart once, but I was there, so I had to go look at keychains or something so they could discuss the ending

If they weren't due back until Monday evening, I'd certainly get through all 16 (I'm not adding up the hours). However, they have to be back by 1:00 p.m. on Monday, or I get charged the late fee: a buck a piece. As I've avoided Wal-Mart for weeks now to not decrease my checkbook further, I think I want to skip paying the University more money than I have to. But that's just me.

It was just as well that I didn't skip...

...as my classes have been fairly awesome this week, especially Linguistics and Spanish, the two I'd be most tempted to cut out on due to early hours and sheer boredom, respectfully. However, goody-two-shoe-ness worked in my favor this past week as I got out early most of the time in both (a HUGE achievement in Spanish, where we generally run a few minutes over), but also did some cool stuff in class.

[By "cool stuff," I mean non-regular activities.]

In Linguistics, not only did the phrase "den of linguistic iniquity" enter my usage, but she also read us a [drop-in-the-middle-shorted and edited] clip of David Sedaris's Easter story from Me Talk Pretty One Day, a book that apparently no one else in class had heard of, judging from the reaction of the class (compared to mine) which she pulled it out from her bag.

Spanish way-time rocked my socks off, as if clauses continued to benefit my world more than any grammatical function should. Not only did they get me out of class and into sunshine fifteen minutes early last week, they also provided reason for my professor to bring in a clip of "Fiddler on the Roof" so we could watch the "If I Were a Rich Man" section...and translate it into Spanish. And then have a singalong.

Yes, I am happy in my dorkness.

Let Go

You'd never think it'd be that guy from "Scrubs" (you know, the one who looks like the guy from "Ed") and his pretty, pretty trailer that'd be keeping me going right now, would you?

Indubitably.

Through some weird combination of too many "Drood" rehearsals and the level of stress I suddenly climaxed today, I keep flipping into a British accent/dialect thing and not being able to stop.

"Psycho Killer," such an oddly appropriate soundtrack choice

I feel about three steps from a stress-caused breakdown (kinda like last week, huh?), except that I have to survive until Saturday morning sometime before I'll have breathing room again. Which is exactly why I'm hanging out on Blogger and typing stuff up.

Here you go, Melissa. Something to read.


(Edit after reading all that: Geez, my sarcassim is really touchy when I'm stressed, isn't it?)

Shock beyond shocks

Could I possibly still be on track to graduate within four years?

Current schedule says: Yes!

Schedule after actually register later this week: most likely NO!


(I love how some things are just guaranteed around here)

(Of course, then it's cold in the Linguistics room, but still...)

Perk of Spring: All the windows are open, so you can hear the clocktower bell and don't have to constantly glance at your watch to know what time it is. Looking studious and knowing how many minutes remain? Definite plus.

To quote somebody, "If you've done it, it ain't bragging"

I could do some cutesy story about how it took forever to get back to my room and check my mail yesterday, but it'd just be long and drawn out when all I really want to do is brag on myself and tell the world that I am, as of yesterday or whenever the mailed it or whatever, an official student ambassador for Truman State University, which means I get to give tours and answer questions and basically be a used car salesman-type person in that I must sell the school to high schoolers who's parents made them fill out the application or whatever and now I'm just slightly babbling because I wasn't sure it would happen after the "drunken sorority girls" fiasco (though, if I didn't make it, I was totally going to blame it on drunken sorority girls without explaining that it was just a quote or whatever)

and now I'm just babbling slightly because it still hasn't sunken in all the way and I'm hungry so I'm going to lunch.

(Wow, I should edit this later.)

I'm queen of the program!

I went from not doing much, theatre-wise, to being waytimeswamped (the lack of spaces indicates how much freetime I feel I have). Sure, I had classes going on (Stagecraft, where I become covered in paint on a much too regular basis and Acting II, the original reason why I was in OP everyday), but I wasn't doing anything non-academic related.

Then I was asked to help with props for the last mainstage show.

Megan kept copying scripts, music, dialect sheets for the show after Stagecraft and I'd tag along and collate pages to save her time.

My acting professor asked for volunteers to help with the La Plata police department's pre-prom "don't drink and drive" fake car accident presentation. Having missed out on the Sullivan disaster preporation thing my senior year, I totally volunteered.

One-act auditions and callbacks appeared, providing me with [first, lots of anxiety, and second,] an assistant stage managing gig.

The same person who's single-handedly made the banners announcing shows all year resigned himself to painting one last one, until I found out about it and offered my services. He gladly handed over the overhead projector, sheet of material, and paint.

The props crew finally met and found out we might also constitute the majority of the deck crew, also, as they needed more people to move scenery than props.

The props girls officially became scenery movers and also lost their Easter break to stay in Kirksville and run dress rehearsals.

SO, basically everyone probably wonders how I allowed myself to become so busy so fast. To put it simply, in life they didn't pop up in a convenient list like above, and I didn't notice until I found myself at musical rehersal Thursday night until after eleven p.m. It reminds me of high school, when I'd have early morning band practice in the pre-school hours and play practice post-school, so I wouldn't see my house from 7 a.m. to 5 p.m. that night.

I shouldn't feel nostalgic for my dorm room, but I have the past two days.

But, I only have about two weeks of this (and some parts will drop out before then: I plan on finishing the banner sometime this weekend), and I prefer feeling too busy to having free time [or so I tell myself]. If nothing else, whatever doesn't kill me one week, I can pull fun stories from the next.

(the title kinda sucks, though, if you ask me)

I know he's totally been published before, but I'm still instinctively proud every time I hear about it, probably because I'm also jealous and wish it was me instead. Or also. Whatever.

(All your titles were *mucho* better than the published one, though.)

(I totally thought Blogger was about to eat that last post...and now it's acting way screwy, so I'm apparently not going to post anymore [for awhile] after this.)

So, it took a couple days to smooth out the details...

(This should've been posted earlier in the week, but my schedule went all *splah* on me around Wednesday/Tuesday and I've spent more time in OP this week than I want to think about.)

When Megan and I (Meredith was studying for a test) showed up at the high school on Tuesday, two police officers, a handful of students, and various office workers were standing around talking about "what needed to be done," except it was all in a "we're desperately trying not to laugh and failing miserably" way. We shrugged it off, moved on down to the drama classroom, and waited for class to begin.

What were all the students talking about when we arrived? Why, the kids who had stolen a vehicle from the parking lot and driven to Wal-Mart.

The THIRD GRADERS who stole a truck and drove to Wal-Mart.

Apparently (though I didn't find this part out until Linguistics class when my professor brought it up for reasons only she knows), when the two third graders were dropped off at school, they waited for their parents to drive off before sneaking over to the high school. They then proceeded to look through the cars in the parking lot before finding a truck with the keys still in the emission.

Surely rejoicing in their luck, one delinquent worked the pedals, the other handled the steering wheel, and they took off for Wal-Mart.

While on the road to the commercial center of our town, a semi driver noticed a vehicle driving erratically (Well, yeah! One's on the pedals and one's on the steering wheel!) and notified the police. By the time the two vehicles reached Wal-Mart, the cops were waiting.

Not only did they find two WAY underage drivers (I can only imagine that: "May I see your license an-" [notices second "driver"] "Where are your parents?!?"), they also discovered the spoils of the pre-keys searching: a pack of cigarettes, two lighters, and an air gun.

Dudes, if this doesn't spell short story material, I don't know what does. I'm getting prepared for creative writing class all over the place.

Newsflash from One-Act Practice

I'm apparently still scary when it comes to playing "1776," and the same intensity I have for that game helps me excel "Bunny Bunny" and "Zip Zap Zop"

My room smells like bananas.

Short Takes

* Monday morning, when steam was billowing out of the sewer, I was totally waiting for Tommy Lee Jones to pop out and confirm that we were shooting Volcano 2: Midwest is Toast, Too

* Examples of Times I Just Think Bookworm is Playing with Me: jiao, geru, asci, qua, Ben

* It really shouldn't bug me as much as it does that whoever's in charge of the mini golf in the lounge misspelled "Berenstein" (as "Bearenstein") on all the posters.

* Someday I'll start wearing headphones (no CD player attached) while walking to class, just so I can randomly rock out around strangers.

* The crawl-way under the stage is really dusty and I think I have paint in my hair (I know it's on my jeans): I love stagecraft more all the time.

Your friend and mine:

The Weekend in Bullets Returns!

* Michael makes some dang fine brownies, even if he doesn't use extra ingredients like the time before.

* My show choir shoes returned to dancing glory for use in my acting scene.

* Addicting Games + an afternoon when I should have been studying spanish = a sudden addiction to Bookworm

* I ordered my first [and second and third] books on Mobius ever...and have no idea how I'll know to pick them up.

* Peeps are more fun to microwave if you named them first ("Here, have a bit of Stanley." "Cindy wants to microwaved, too.")

* the Ever After "and they lived happily ever after" just as things suck must joke works just as well as a college sophomore as it did as a high school freshman

* I enjoy blow-drying my hair way more than I should

* The universe must have a sense of humor. Why else would my card-a-day calendar provide a "get well soon" card after I got sick in the middle of the night?

* My CD player still hates me, but I've stopped taking it personally.

* Puddles, puddles, puddles!!!

Epiphany, Number...well, anyway...

As much as I cling to my college personality and all the freedom and responsibility it entails, I am still very much the same person I was in high school.

Well, if everyone ELSE gets to obsessively post quizzes...

What would your Anime life be like? by hearthlight
Name:
Gender:
Your looks:	Brooding eyes and a trenchcoat
Your best friend:	A sarcastic demon.
Your powers:	Everything.
Your beloved:	You can't pick just one!
Your occupation:	Villain.
Your ending:	Exactly as you'd want it.
Created with quill18's MemeGen 3.0!

This is awesome because no one lets me play the villian parts (except in acting class once in awhile) and I know I'd probably be too good at them, what with my normally cheery and sunshiney personality.

My inner child is six years old!

Look what I can do! I can walk, I can run, I can
read! I like to do stuff, and there's a whole
big world out there to do it in. Just so long
as I can take my blankie and my Mommy and my
three best friends with me, of course.


How Old is Your Inner Child?
brought to you by Quizilla

Does it matter to anyone that I actually worked it out that my inner child is nine...mostly so I could turn "ten" instead of twenty here in a month?


You are CLARISSA EXPLAINS IT ALL. She is a rad
chick with absolutely no fashion sense.

Which old school Nickelodeon show are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

I took this quiz a week ago and didn't recognize the show I "was" at all, so at least I know this one. (Does this mean, when I grow up, I'll get a talking cat a la "Sabrina the Teenage Witch?")


You are Schroeder!


Which Peanuts Character are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

"Frequent bouts of neurosis" really sums it up, doesn't it?


You are the grammar Fuhrer. All bow to your
authority. You will crush all the inferior
people under the soles of your jackboots, and
any who question your motives will be
eliminated. Your punishment is being the bane
of every other person's existence, because
you're constantly contradicting stupidity.
Everyone will be gunning for you. Your dreams
of a master race of spellers and grammarians
frighten the masses. You must always watch your
back. If only your power could be used for good
instead of evil.


What is your grammar aptitude?
brought to you by Quizilla

I imagine that somewhere, somehow, Fye suddenly felt a burst of pride for me.


Sneakers- funny, laid-back, and goofy, you love to
make people laugh and have a good time. You
enjoy comfort and don't care to much about what
people think of you. You like to hang out with
your buddies and just have a good time.


What Kind of Shoe Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Ironically one of the pairs of shoes I find most obnoxious...if only they didn't smell if you skipped the socks....

Movies I Want to See that Aren't Out Yet, or I Don't Have Money For (Yet)

* Mean Girls

* Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

* 13 Going on 30

* Jersey Girl

* Van Helsing

* The Incredibles

* Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

* The Villiage

My new favorite junk food is Combos with Easy Cheese

In other news, Amanda, the girl we leadership people were coaching for district contest, received second place at districts and gets to go to state. Naturally, this is some fab-friggin-tastic news....and well celebrated with cake in class. Favorite quote from the high school? "It's like a feeding troth at Auschwitz."

Number of popsicles eaten [by me] in first evening after purchasing them at Wal-Mart (along with Combos and Easy Cheese): three. Number of popsicles fully frozen when eaten: zero.

I just volunteered to also work publicity for the musical, which means I'm adding more to my schedule. The rate I'm going, I'll get my name in the program four times, but only if Megan can work me in under "collating" like she's trying. (Who put all those scripts in order? Yeah, that would be me, thanks.)

Caleb, I got your postcard from the 21st today. I enjoyed all the "really"s. Really.

The newest Harry Potter trailer (full trailer, not teaser) went online today or last night or something, but I can't get it to play on Merv. The sound works, but the picture does that flashy, holding too long so it jumps around thing and that's not at all how I should watch that trailer.

stupid friggin fire alarm....why ringing now? Oof....sleep again.

Basically, I Love You All

* I love my Dad for emailing me back so promptly as I muddle my way through my gypsy moth trapper application.

* I love Meredith for randomly do-si-do-ing with me in front of Dobson while walking to class.

* I love Becky Becker for not despising my acting scene and everything about it, like last time.

* I love my brother for making me laugh.

* I love the conservation department people for telling me that, for the two trapper positions available, there's one for me and one for the other six applicants to fight over.

* I love John for also loving Moxy Fruvous.

* I love Michael for not shooting me with his dart gun when I finally gave it back after stealing it.

* I love Melissa for not laughing at me half as much as she has the opportunity to do.

* I love my creative writing class for all their feedback about my Lady Macbeth poem.

* I love Tony, my one-act director, for all the art projects he's planning as bonding for the show.

Finally is right

Monkey Ninjas 5! Monkey Ninjas 5!

Things I Found Written in the Margins of My Old Spanish Workbook

* an obvious disregard for the actual questions:

1. Por que' no pudo salir Susana con Pedro? he's a great big jerk
2. Co'mo se puso ella cuando Pedro llamo'? hung up on him (girl power!)

* social commentary

It's hard being Canadian in MO.

The thing about being short is everyone always thinks you're younger than you actually are. You're always cute and precious, and no one for one second believes you are threat to anyone

* general ranting

My headphones are massively possessed right now. Every two seconds, the click. Click click click. And then they go all static-y like I'm about to be filmed for Signs 2: We Brought Our Wet Suits, Suckers. Or Something. What number am I on again?

this is the stupidest section EVER! I will not degrade myself to listen further, yet will not lose time by fastforwarding

* comments to the writers of the workbook

you tricky fools!

what kind of funky accentuation patter is this guy following?

Not even gonna happen, babycakes.

* the occassional song

I really want to leave, yeah! Really want to leave. Oh, I so want to go right now-ow!

almost there! almost done! hate to leave when we're having fun! but we've both got better things to do than hang around at the petting zoo.

*2% Zinc! ... I love cheddar, too!*

So, it wasn't until just now, minutes after Melissa and I completed our back-and-forth joint song about the contents of Munchies Kid Mix and a bag of Cheddar and Sour Cream Chips that I realized half of what I was singing had the same melody as "Poor Judd is Daid" from Oklahoma.

Oh, and I'm assistant stage managing my friend, Tony's, show which I already count as fabulous (it's all about art).


[It pays to read everything I write, doesn't it? You never know when I'll stick in actual real information like that, huh?]

Pondering

Do you suppose my Dad does the same things about job interviews that I do with auditions: act like it's no big deal what happens, yet secretly desperately wanting a specific thing and then having to deal when it doesn't happen?

In other theatre news, the acting lab flooded last night.

Is it a bad sign that I woke up thinking about one-act cast list postings, and immediately my head started playing "Til We Meet That Day" from Ragtime, the song about justice being denied and death and stuff?

We'll Always Have the Sunken Garden

Not only do I love how much time I can spend talking about basically nothing with my group of friends, but also just how far one little inside joke can spread before I'm suddenly mock-hysteric relationship fighting on the path back to Ryle with someone who I'm not dating. Bless you, John.

Bad Hannah! Bad!

I know I always promise never to do so again, but I once more fell for a part (though it was the one I didn't figure I'd fall for. I just came back from my callback for two of the shows, and I'm really digging [from two pages of dialogue] "I Bring You Flowers" by William Lang, about a husband and wife who's child died....but the wife doesn't remember.

Sounds fun, right? Well, those first two pages of dialogue were about flowers and how they grow and I got to say "You're kidding!" over-exagerratingly three times and it was great.

Of course, then I went are read for another show, and I still have to read for a third, but there you have it. I've already picked what I want to do. Dang awful habit.

You like me! You really like me!

Callbacks are up and I have three: two for shows I was least repelled by (there's lots of dismal stuff this year) and one directed by the guy who gives me semi-creeps (no good reason) every time I see him. I guess I'll be busy this afternoon.

And my feet are KILLING me

...which means I had a fabulous time at the All Hall Ball, dancing the night away in Pershing. There was much 80s music (courtesy of Krista and Annie, who probably requested half the music over-all), fake swing dancing (which must always occur at dances), and I was swung around a la "Dirty Dancing" or some ballet by John (under Krista's careful direction: "Now, lift her up and spin!"). I didn't wear shoes the entire night, demonstrated my twisting skills ("Twist and Shout" = Best Beatles Song Ever), and stole a set of the helium balloon table decorations. They're quickly deflating and attacking Merv, but I don't think he minds.

I love dances. I miss high school.

More than a little giddy

I love that feeling I get after an audition that went well, when I'm all happy and confident and feeling like I could TAKE ON ANYTHING, or ANYBODY, and that loserfreak wouldn't stand a chance after my fabulous, total flahoolickness. I want to run singing down the hallway, which actually wouldn't come across all that weird to my neighbors, so instead I'm going to dinner and chill.

(Why, yes, I did find something for one-acts. Why, yes, it did go quite well. How did you know?)

I need a hero! [or a monologue]

Why do I always end up searching for something at the last minute for the one-acts? I know it doesn't "matter" as much what you do as it does for mainstages, classes, etc, but it still makes a difference. So why do I put off finding the perfect piece until the last minute? How does that even remotely make sense?

AAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!

Anyway. Time to continue searching.

And I have a few hours left

My linguistics prof ranted about the disasterous affect Schoolhouse Rock has had on the grammar of America's children (yes, really: "They included an adverb as a preposition!"), I spent nearly all of acting class singing "Marry the Man Today" in various parts of OP, I broke out the flip-flops and have my first feet rub lines of the season, Melissa and I blew bubbles on the quad while avoiding any and all frisbee playing, I gave a spontaneous geography lesson regarding Okoboji, tried to fall asleep to Hugh Jackman and just couldn't pull it off (do you blame me?), and introduced John (the third one in the song) to the joys of pour-over butter popcorn.

I'd say it's been a successful day.

The Hair Up There

(corny title, I know, but it's still early)

My still-newly-short hair keeps doing this fun flip-out-on-its-own thing where I don't have to mess with curling irons (big plus), except that some days--like yesterday and today--it's majorly out of control and I spend all day trying to ignore the war my hair wages on my ears.

Shout-Out Disguised as Confession

Amanda, you have no idea how tempting it is to walk past the cardboard box of soda can tabs and not stash them all (handful by handful) into my backpack to help you out for your service project.

Maybe if I go in the evening and avoid the janitors.....

(Oh, the things I think up while not paying attention in class)

We (or, at least, people who have been with me for awhile) all know that I have connections with too many people claiming the same name, especially Johns. To help clear up the who's who among Hannah's Johns, I offer all y'all this, to the tune of The Kids in the Hall's "Daves I Know":

These are the Johns I know, I know
These are the Johns I know.
These are the Johns I know, I know.
These are the Johns I know.

John Dieter, he once played my dad.
Those were the best one-act times that I've ever had.

These are the Johns I know, I know
These are the Johns I know.
These are the Johns I know, I know.
These are the Johns I know.

John Griesdeck was in my acting class.
He works at the Muny, a theatre surrounded by grass.

These are the Johns I know, I know
These are the Johns I know.
These are the Johns I know, I know.
These are the Johns I know.

Some of them are freshmen, but most are in my grade.
They all have their own hands, but they come from different moms.

These are the Johns I know, I know
These are the Johns I know.
These are the Johns I know, I know.
These are the Johns I know.

John Richardson, he lives just down the hall.
He taped me for a ling project, and has some quotes on the wall.

These are the Johns I know, I know
These are the Johns I know.
These are the Johns I know, I know.
These are the Johns I know.

John Weeks, I hardly see him.

These are the Johns I know, I know
These are the Johns I know.
These are the Johns I know, I know.
These are the Johns I know.

These are the Johns I know, I know
These are the Johns I know, I know.
These are the Johns!

Home Sweet Home

There's totally a thread on DailyJolt currently going about Becky, from Becky's Carpet and Tile (the tiara lady on the flying carpet) and other St. Louis commercial personalities (Fred from Dirt Cheap, anyone?) that makes me miss my local broadcast stations.

Even you, Fred.

Melissa is an absolute *genius*

Merv came back this afternoon/evening-ish, I discovered I still couldn't get on the internet, took it up with the ITS folks again, found out they'd checked for the wrong thing and I had to come back again tomorrow, and settled in for another night without email, Addiction Solitaire, and other internet in my room.

So, why am I currently posting from my room?

Melissa, the genius of the title, made the comment that it wouldn't be fair if ITS turned off both internet ports in the room ("what if there were two computers in here, and one of them wasn't infected?"), and I changed from Port 1 to Port 2. For once, the ITS people actually worked to my advantage (as much as they've tried to screw me over for the past few weeks, that's a grand triumph).

I'm going to do all those little internet things I've missed out on for the last little bit. Toothpaste for Dinner, McSweeney's, IMDB - here I come!

Sure, it's convenient, but still....

Why is my knee throbbing? My only guess (so far) is that I've developed creaky joints a la grumpy old people in comic strips that ache with weather changes (hello, snow!) from all those years of sitting on my knees in order to be taller. If it's any consolation to my left knee, I'm sorry for all the trouble I gave you back in seventh grade, if I could take it back I would, and I would really appreciate it if you'd stop aching no matter what position you're in and let me sleep easy tonight. I really don't care to feel changes in the weather enough to not be able to walk up and down the hall without hurting myself.

Take good care of my baby

Lab again. Merv's officially in the (hopefully) good hands of the ITS guys, though, when I was there, they were all talking about the new screensavers for their computers. I'm trying not to dwell. Whoever I talked to on the phone said it'll take up to two days to fix whatever's wrong with Merv, so I guess now is a fab time to practice not playing Addiction Solitaire and Freecell and Tripeaks five million hours of the day....and wait for the time when I can do so again.

*gag* fumes

I'm in the downstairs lab because Merv still doesn't like me (he's going to ITS this afternoon, weather permitting), where the walls are receiving a fresh coat of paint. Of course, the doors are also closed, and there's a 100% chance of snow, like, any minute, so there's lots of laughter going on from the workers. And I can't spell anymore, which is actually quite normal, but I'd like to blame it on outside sources for at least one day.

I don't see any chance of that guaranteed snow as of yet (except that the temperature's kinda nippy out), but I suppose it is Kirksville, where in snows in April (at least that once).

Maybe not quite.

OOH! Sister Sledge on PBS! Must stay up five more minutes!

(I was unaware that "We Are Family" had violin accompaniment. Or that I could actually spell "accompaniment.")

I have to pack now. Yes, now.

Maybe it's just the silly laptop (is it "laptop" or "labtop" - I never remember, but I'm leaning toward the first) doing it's crazy "let's mess with Hannah late at night when she should be packing all her earrings and papers and shoes and things" thing again. I always feel safer when I have technology to blame because then I'm not 100% certain whatever happened is my fault.

There's such tense trouble (good name for a rock band) in that last sentence, but I'm not going to Fye it out tonight. And, suddenly, I have my last word for my linguistics "invent four words using principles talked about on last day when half the class wasn't there" project. And, I'm typing without clearing anything with my brain first, so it's like I'm talking in internet form. Whatever that means.

I'm packing my laundry now.

now things are posting once, appearing when I check, and disappearing again later...but will they reappear after posting again???

Why does everything keep trying to double post or not post at all?

Lesson of the Break

I’ve always felt weird and kinda inconvenienced when I come home on breaks because suddenly I have to deal with my parents hanging around (instead of friends my age) and messing with my pre-set schedule of sleeping in, staying up late, and general lounging. It wasn’t until this week that I realized they must feel the same way about me when I show up: happy to have me around, yet at a loss for what to do with me and how to fit me into their schedule.

Book me a trip to Rome!

I want to go to a foreign county and meet a cute stranger because, once we spend all day together, we’ll fall madly in love. Of course, there’s half a chance he’ll just be using me to take revenge on someone, but then I’ll just fall into the arms of my best guy friend (who’s conveniently on the same trip). Either way, I can’t lose.


[Maybe I’ve seen “Roman Holiday” and “The Lizzie Maguire Movie” too many times.]

Spoiler Alert!

Dudes, I’m serious—I’m just gonna spout all over the place about “Secret Window,” newest movie from Johnny Depp, fantastic hot actor guy. This used to be part of an earlier post about my entire afternoon-evening-early early morning, but Blogger ate it twice, so I’m just giving up on all but my mini-rant. So, once more, SPOILER ALERT.

Ta da.

As a movie theater employee, Sam brought Hope and me to the free movie preview of “Secret Window” on Thursday night after all the publically scheduled movies had finished. I bought a package of Twizzlers from Wal-Mart earlier in the evening and snuck them in by way of my apparently-twizzler-sized purse (one of my favorite movie memories is of passing a twizzler to Sam during “The Others” and having her totally jump at a non-scary part).

Anyway.

Everyone mocked the previews, but we settled in once the actual movie started. The movie had a genuinely creepy vibe going (mysterious visitors, the dog gets death by screwdriver, the shovel scene seen partially in the tv previews), though the plot was becoming more and more unlikely.

And then came the squirrel.

Around Truman’s campus, everyone *knows* the squirrels are insane. It’s just something you pick up during freshman week, I guess. The squirrels around campus are insane, probably want us all dead, and will attack us for no reason (seen it happen). Rather than being terrified of the squirrels, they are instead a point of personal pride. Where else can you find psychotic squirrels? Frankly, they amuse me. This is why the shot of the squirrel going berserk mid-movie caused me (and Hope) to burst out in loud laughter.

Apparently this was the breaking point for everyone else in the theater, as everyone around us (all ten people) proceeded to mock the rest of the movie. And, trust me, there’s lots there. I’d found the boyfriend guy annoying throughout the entire film and was happy to see Johnny Depp take him out with the shovel (though I didn’t need to watch him stabbed to death with said shovel). And the “shooter” – “shoot her” I will admit was a nice touch.

But, couldn’t we come up with something better than a split personality psychotic Johnny Depp? Especially once we made it fit so perfect to be a set up from the boyfriend; that conversation at the gas station (where the boyfriend takes credit for what’s going on) fits more for the Mississippi stranger than for him taking responsibility for the divorce situation. I guess that’s why he did that weird mouth stretching thing throughout the movie, also. I’d like to ask one question of the general population (as I did of Sam during the film and Hope after): does it make me a bad person that I thought Johnny Depp was even hotter once he picked up the southern accent himself and was wearing the ominous black hat all jaunty-like? I mean, he wasn’t hot because he was killing people off, but, oh, he could talk to me in southern all the time.

And what was with the corn?!? I guess it’s understandable that the garden wouldn’t stick around after he dug everything up to bury the bodies, but does corn have a special quality where it covers all evidence of decaying, shovel-killed bodies? And how hard would it be to find the car (with his watch, screwdriver, and all sorts of evidence) that close to the edge of the lake? Surely the car left some track marks leading right off the cliff that the police picked up on.

I won’t even go into all of them, but I hate that the thriller/mystery/etc genre generally relies on all the main characters making really stupid mistakes or just doing idiotic things people in real life wouldn’t do (such as staying in a solitary house in the middle of nowhere after receiving numerous death threats). I know that if they did everything I’d do in the situation, the movie would end in approximately fifteen minutes (including exposition), but surely some fabulous writer out there can come up with a better method. Though, in this movie specifically, all the stupid mistakes were justified in a “logical” (I use that word lightly) manner, they still bugged me until (and some after) I discovered the explanation.

Still, I enjoyed Johnny Depp (even when he wasn’t a psychotic Mississippi southern-spewing murderer) in the role, as kinda out there as it was. I got my money’s worth for the show, and I have bragging rights of seeing it before the movie was open for the general public. I’ll eat an ear of corn to that.

Home is where the laundry goes

Distinct Signs I Am Once More in Sullivan:

* laundry is free; I don't have to hunt up enough small change to clean both my jeans and shirts

* I'm in charge of most of my meals

* I've misplaced my purse because there's more than two places where it could be

* there's more than two places where I could be

* all the soda is caffeine free, sugar free, diet, or a combination thereof

* I don't climb up a ladder to reach my bed

* no cable (not that I watch it, anyway)

* I actually watch tv

* I'm finally making progress on my scrapbook again

* everyone else is asleep (or at least in bed) by ten thirty

* everyone else is awake before seven

* I actually worked out on the treadmill

* I went to Wal-Mart without stopping by the electronics or toy departments

* the internet is all screwy (wait, that's also true of Truman...)

Hannah, gaze at your future

My mother actually has it marked on her calendar (for 2004!) the date in March (the second) and year (1992) when I first began taking piano lessons.

Only two shopping months remaining!

Today, March 8th, marks the final two months before I depart from my free-spirited teen years (which, if we're being honest, could only be classified as such upon reaching college, as I was kinda uptight before that) and enter my faux-mature twenties.

Frightening, I know.

However, as those last two months will sweep away quickly (much like the dust under my bed), I am here to provide a handy birthday shopping list for all you, like my mother, who have "well, nothing."

I would in no manner despise receiving any of the following, in no particular order:

* a vespa

* gift certificates to the scrapbook store

* "Gilmore Girls" on DVD

* decent walkie-talkies (none of that "unobstructed 200 yards" crap)

* anything Liv Tyler wore in "That Thing You Do!"

* a karaoke machine (to spice up life in 315)

* a trip to New York

* money for my trip to London (only one year away!)

* the sudden ability to dance REAL swing dance (not just that fake show choir type)

* more giant hoop earrings (they look extra nice with the short hair)

* a publishing contract

* a gig stage managing a broadway musical

* bubbles

* a pony

"I liked my life before it became so confusing, really I did."

There's nothing quite like ready old journal entries from middle school-early high school about boys to remind someone just how unconfusing and normal life really was back then as compared to now. Perspective is always nice, especially late at night.

That, and they're hilarious.

24 Hours: that's 1440 minutes...86400 seconds...

(...and one reference to "The Adding Machine" that no one will understand)

In the first 24 hours (or so) spent back in Sullivan, I...

* fell asleep on the couch (like normal on the first night back)

* went to Wal-Mart

* did laundry

* listened to St. Louis radio six times

* found out another set of friends became engaged while I was gone

* read an entire book (granted, children's lit)

* thought about working on schoolwork apx. elevent times

* was asked out (by yet another Wal-Mart employee - why do I attrach them so?)

* watched more television than I had for most of the semester

When I finally finish that time machine...

"So, Hannah, what's been up? I mean, you used to post all the time, but, this past week, you posted basically nothing. What's up with you?"

Well, noble readers--I've had a virus. Or, more accurately, Merv had a virus. The tech people pulled Merv off the network (thus disconnecting the room's internet), didn't tell me for an entire day, we used about a zillion different programs to scan Merv personally, apparently got back on the network (because it was telling us the network was unplugged when the internet crashed for everyone else), and then left for break.

Anyway.

Basically, I haven't posted anything for most of the week. As I mentioned in a post earlier, I had things I wanted to post. Unfortunately, I left...lemme check...yeah, all of them back in Kirksville in my "toast" file. What were they? Well......


MONDAY
My scene was fabulous! I haven't watched the tape yet (and I don't plan to until I have to to put it onto my tape), but [as I actually experienced the entire thing], I sense it was totally on. Plus, I received great feedback (and some all around fab comments about myself) and got to prance around in go-go boots.

And, then there was Easy Mac and dance party-ness and all manner of jokes about the Sunken Garden. I love late Monday nights in John and Michael's room.


TUESDAY
I know nothing about Spanish and Spanish will have nothing to do with me and I don't think that's gonna change before the test tomorrow. Dios mio!


THURSDAY
I swear, you don't MESS WITH ME when I'm sleeping. You don't mess with me when I'm sleeping and you don't mess with my friends who are sleeping and you especially [Michael] don't wake me up to ask me to mess with one of my friends who are sleeping.

Y'all can thank me for the fact that Michael no longer has any of his toy foam dart guns, as he was shooting them at Tiffani's door to wake her up from her nap. Yes, that was me yelling all the way down the hall.

You don't mess with me and sleep.


FRIDAY
My Spanish prof is apparently in love with Costa Rica, but that still doesn't make me wish I decided against skipping to watch him spew adoration over the CR while watching one of his old trip videos.

Don't know much about....

I don't know why Merv has suddenly decided he doesn't like the Internet, the Internet is evil, I must protect Hannah and Melissa from the devil that is Addiction Solitiare, but he has and so I've been Internet-free in 315 for about two-ish days now.

No, I'm not taking it well.

Anyway, as soon as Merv starts cooperating again (or I just give up and save them all on disk, the pile of posts I had for this week will languish away on my desktop, praying for a miracle to occur before I leave tomorrow afternoon. Frankly, I don't have my fingers crossed, but Merv's surprised me in the past.

Unfair! Unfair! Unfair!

There's a new Harry Potter trailer up and I can't get it to download!!! Why do you hate me, Merv?!?

This is what my life has become.

Yup, another list. I'd love to do something more, but frankly I don't have time this side of my Spanish test and want to throw info out there sooner than Wednesday evening.

So.

Other stuff in my life:

* As my parents know, I can tell the rest of the world: Michelle AuBuchon was so friggin' right. Explaination: it was Locks for Love in Ryle this weekend, and I ended up getting my hair cut...as in, donation-worthy cut. I now have hair about an inch above my shoulders; if you've watched "Gilmore Girls" this season, it looks like Rory's hair.

* Melissa's parents popped-up on our doorstep Sunday morning (as Amanda, Melissa's sister was visiting as well) and we enjoyed a picnic lunch of fried chicken (!) out at the lake where there were also swings and slides for our own enjoyment.

* My acting scene went fantabulously on Monday morning and, adding to my previous acting scene compliments regarding my feet and my height, the first four or so comments were (seriously) about my hot-ness. Yay boosting self-esteem!

* Dressing up for dinner had the extra advantage of occurring at the same time as a large group of theatre people also ate in the dining hall, thus causing a trading of quips.

* New Teen Girl Squad! New Teen Girl Squad!

* Searching for a song for the next acting class segment--musical theatre--at the library and discovering our library has a big load of nothing.

* Four trips to Wal-Mart in three days.

(Is that a lightning cloud?)

Today in acting class a group of us actually spent most of the warm-up time comparing our "stigmata," starting with the girl who had marks on her feet due to her flip-flops rubbing the wrong way. Then, we moved on to me and my matching hand wounds (the left from being stabbed with a key, the right from falling on the shark jaw) and finally moved into "proper" stigmata placement and the old wrist vs. hand argument.

I love theatre people.

Latin Love

I'm not a big fan of the first one, so I didn't have that whole "sacrilege!" thing going when Melissa, her sister, Amanda, Ben, and about a zillion other people went to "Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights" on Saturday with a purse full of Pop-Rocks. Not only worth my $4.75 matinee price, this movie will someday also be worth my $22.95 at Wal-Mart once it arrives on DVD. Why? Have another list:

* First off, one must definitely mention the well-used cute boys with accents motif. Not only was the main character desperately hot (I am such a third grade girl), but most of the supporting cast and nearly all the extras, especially in dance sequences, were also cute foreign boys. Hollywood will never be able to underestimate the value of this trick; and above all when the main cute boy with accent can also act quite well, despite the cheesy lines thrown his way.

* Everyone's picked up that I have a thing for WWII-era clothes by now, right? As this movie was set in the late '50s, the costumes still fit into my time period I adore. Plus, as it was also Cuba in the '50s, they packed in as many spiffy tropical-style '50s dresses as possible.

* I mentioned them before, I'll mention them again: I don't know why I got the idea, but I decided during the previews that I would pile in my mouth as many Pop Rocks as possible and hold the popping explosion wide open for the entire audience to enjoy during every quiet, reflective moment. And then others joined in. Boy, I hope the tweens in the backrow didn't mind.

* I didn't know he was going to be in the thing until about twenty minutes before leaving, but including Patrick Swayze as a dance instructor was a stroke of genius. Not only did this allow the directors to recycle some of his dance moves from the first movie (seriously--that's totally the same dance!), it also provided a fun debate about whether he was a mentor or a creepy guy. I say he was kinda creepy the way he was always around whenever New-Jennifer-Grey did Important Dance Things, but he didn't cross the line to full out creeptacularness.

* Speaking of recycling things, where was the Spanish version of "Time of Your Life" on the soundtrack? Because, dudes, they used that song over and over again, even to the point of one-line-long musical interludes. Besides that, the soundtrack is fabulous. Fabulous enough for me to buy it during the Wal-Mart trip post-movie and fabulous enough to have been copied by two other people during the first few hours of possession.

* But the best thing of all? The title screen, proudly proclaiming the film as "based on true events." Well, yes, I suppose we could beef up the story by making a big deal out of the revolutionary setting and the historical context. Of course, in the same way the first movie could claim the same thing since families take vacations every year.

Either way (or either or either or...), fab movie all around. Totally buying it whenever they deem it ready for DVD, hopefully with lots of extras.

News You Can Use (or Lose)

Screw the weekend, the Past Week (no order) in Bullets:

* After playing "Little Sally Walker" for ten minutes, my acting class decides the prof isn't actually showing up and we all split. Cue "Lunch, Part II" and singing Les Miz songs with my acting partner in loo of actual practice.

* Yeah, three a.m. paper writing/7:15 a.m. wake-up time!

* My acting scene went [actually] way better than I expected...though it probably helped that I took off my glasses and everyone went all fuzzy. And didn't let myself get all psyched out by the other group's wonderfulness.

* The world's shortest professor-led study session in preparation for the linguistics midterm on Friday.

* In "Ah-ha! I mock you Wal-Mart!" News, my stubborness finally pays off as the Simba stuffed animal (original price $18.95) finally fell from its clearance price of $11 to $5.

* So many bubbles. So, so many bubbles.

* Spending the entire episode of "Gilmore Girls" commenting about how my brother forgot about me...only to check my messages after the show and realize he actually called early when I wasn't around.

* I actually used the phrase "drunken sorority girls" during my interview for Student Ambassador. Yes, really.

* Listening to others (and helping) dis Randi's [now] ex-boyfriend who broke up with her over email, instead of telling her on the phone while she was talking to him.

* All manner of dance movies! And one to go!

* Playing the cup game in the SUB with a tiny container of Ben and Jerry's before it ended up knocked all over the floor instead of down in my stomach.

* Something Corporate's "Punk Rock Princess" is my new favorite song and second favorite inside joke, though it fits with the first one ("So...wanna go to the Sunken Garden?")

It's back!!!

The duct tape clothing line is back...and more red than ever! Yay for needing last minute replacement costumes for acting class nonrealism scenes! Hurrah!

Miss you, Caleb

Having platonic guy friends is more like having surrogate brothers. As such, if I end up with a black eye, it's Michael's fault, but I will take full responsibilty for using the shark jaw to break my fall (and all the cuts resulting).

News Alert!

I'm hungry.

Woo-friggin'-Hoo!

Somebody on this blog's officially a business minor now.



What? Me? You think it's me?

How ever did you guess?

YAY AND ICE CREAM!!!

I'll miss you someday, College.

I'm working on Creative Writings and Melissa's covering math (base 8), but we both just managed to sing the entire theme of "7th Heaven."

Quotes from the Weekend or So

(Because it's almost "The Weekend in Bullets," and I miss it.)

* Don't injure your spine over my sexiness!

* I need to stop being in ecstasy.

* I have a very special place in my heart for you and John, but it's getting crowded and soon one of you will have to kill the other.
But I don't want to kill John!
Then it's been very lovely knowing you.

* It's a very third grade girl thing to know.
I'm not in third grade. Or a girl.
We'll, I'm a girl, and I was once in third grade, so that must be where I got it.
I love how you tell stories.

* First of all, I'm not a townie....

* Bulletproof vests hurt. Ooh! Fun story!

* Oh well, Marty survived it for awhile. And then he died. But I'm sure it's not related.

* I didn't realize that everyone was a fan of "Inspector Gadget."

* This is a 2:30 in the morning thing...and it's only 10:30.

I cannot survive!

I'm chewing my last piece of gum, my tin of Ice Breakers mints ran out weeks ago, and my Tic Tacs supply might last another day, day and a half.

Memo to Self:

I you would stop writing such complicated sentences in English, they wouldn't be as painful to translate into Spanish.

Gauntlets have been thrown!

So, Caleb, to quote Melissa (or, at least paraphrase), she had to one-up you. Of course, it's more like five up, but that's not nearly as catchy. So, if you feel the need to add on a top-ten list beyond your five, she'll just up it again.

I like this game. Please, continue telling me how fab I am. You never know when I may need it later.

And, another thing...

Following in the now grand tradition of things that make me happy (something most likely more appreciated than all my tv-driven angsty-ness), I enjoy the feeling of sophistication I feel from actually and purposefully grabbing a copy of "The New York Times" on my way out of OP this morning...even if it was just to read one theatre review.


Oh, and phone messages. I love leaving messages on answering machines.

New form of Happiness

Words cannot express the support and love I have for whoever put the quote about "On a long enough timeline, all survival rates reach zero" on the bulletin board about the rec center.

residual sideaffects

I had no earthly idea how wicked cool owning the Fantasia collector's edition DVD set would make me amongst my group of people.

Those games college students play

One of my favorite ways to mess with my fellow Truman students consists of cutting through the parking lot on my trip between Ryle and Barnett, cutting through all the cars and attempting to see how many drivers I can get to follow me, thoroughly convinced I'm about to get in a car and they could grab my parking spot.

Personal record: three. That was a fab day.

(Have you watched it yet, Caleb?)

I feel all angsty about life like I should be crying my eyes the begeezers out (whatever that means), but I don't really have much of a reason except that, for this week at least, Rory hit a little too close to home on "Gilmore Girls" last night with her busy rant and I would rather skip all my classes today than have more work piled on. Which doesn't make sense, because I'd still have to do the work AND I'd have absentees all over the place. Besides, if I can go to Linguistics, I can manage anything else thrown my way today.

In theory.

Confound you, Becky Becker!

I am a worthwhile human being, and that's not just because I'm eating chocolate.

Just because I'm having issues memorizing lines doesn't mean I personally suck, just my memory.

I'll just finish my Little Debbie cupcakes, check out my email from Broadway.com, chug some more milk out of the carton (because I feel like it), and go back to theatre stuff.

In honor of "High Fidelity:"

(because you should never pass up a chance to watch John Cusack in a movie that shows how wretched guys are at relationships on Valentine's Day)

Hannah's Top Five Parts She Could Never Play (and why)

1. Lady Macbeth - been craving this since high school, but nobody would ever buy me as "evil," so I'm stuck with the nine year old parts

2. Evita - any version, any venue; if I were an alto who looked fab as a blonde, I'd so own this part

3. O'Reilly, Holly Hunter's character from "A Life Less Ordinary" - I love Holly Hunter so much in this movie, and the go-go boots are just icing

4. Audrey from "Little Shop of Horrors" or Adelaide, "Guys and Dolls" (TIE) - both are the blonde with the fab Noo Yawk accent who long for more out of life...and I wish I could do either justice

5. Lois Lane/Bianca, from "Kiss Me, Kate" - her song from the second act, "Always True to You"--I love that song. But I'm not a dancer, and that part totally is, so that's that.

I did not wallow. Be proud.

Yesterday, I spent way too much time in a pretty dress, broke out the silver vintage clip, watched "Little Shop of Horrors" (which meant I sang along with all the songs and quoted half the dialogue), actually managed to do some classwork, shaved my legs for the first time in about three weeks, ate lots of ice cream, and had a Wonder Woman sort of day (complicated).

Scratch that first part--you can NEVER spend too much time in a pretty dress.

System Report

So, I have

* helped a professor work on developing a new play

* not-quite-half a grinder in my fridge from Bellacino's, even more pictures to scan, and "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" on DVD

* agreed that meeting to work on scenes for acting class on Valentine's Day sounded too depressing and therefore am calling it my "hot date" for the afternoon

* fabulous parents and roommate, all who sent me cards for V-Day (2 of the 3 with glitter, and one with money)

* all day to work on assignments, so naturally nothing will get done

Remember that whole "no kids" thing?

I've told many people (including my mother, where it's more for sport than anything) I don't plan on getting married. In truth, it's not that I'm planning on not getting married so much as I'm not planning on marriage.

Talk to lots of people my age (both male and female), and they'll tell you that after college, they plan on getting married and starting a family. Me? Marriage just isn't a given in my future. If I find the right guy for me, cool. Otherwise, I'm not going to go out and marry someone I have lukewarm feelings for (or, even more bleck, that I'm "fond of") for the simple sake of being married. Maybe I've watched too many confounded romantic comedies and chick flicks, or perhaps I'm just taking that Cinderella thing a bit farther than healthy, but I wouldn't mind some drop-dead romantic crap happening to me. Beyond that, eh.

Anyway, it's just like my dating philosophy. In high school, most dating looked like the couples were together just for the hell of it--they wanted to be with someone, and it didn't even matter who. I never want to be in a relationship (or a marriage, which is just a big, full-time relationship) "just because." If I'm going to spend all that time caring for someone, I want it to be someone I can truly care for, not an exercise in toleration.

I don't know that I'll ever find that right person (or, right people, depending on how much dating I ever get around to, like, ever), but I'm not going to spend much time searching for him. I have better things to do with my time, and--if it's the right person--they'll find me.

So, allow me to wallow in my singleness this weekend. I may even dress up for the occassion.

Just in time for Valentines!

I love how I suddenly feel completely surrounded by couples as most of the people I hang with suddenly find themselves attached to other people I hang with.

Victory is mine!

New Addiction Solitare high score? 767 - beat that, y'all.

Senior Year Redux (minus so much stuff)

After oodles of talk of doing so "someday," I finally sent in my paperwork for earning a business minor. Since it's one of those good things that (A) shouldn't add much more to my "longer than four years"-ness and (B) makes my parents breathe a little easier, I'd been meaning to fix it up for awhile. Unfortunately, it required more hours than I was expecting the first time around, so I'm only now applying.

Elsewhere, I officially have to apply for Student Abassador, as both professors I talked to for recommendations agreed to do so. That puts the pressure on for me to actually fill out my own side of the paperwork now that the other half will find its way to the Admissions Office.

But only sorta stuck, like "magic tape"

So, I got stuck in the elevator during stagecraft this afternoon, though it was stuck as in "the elevator isn't going anywhere" but not "the elevator isn't going anywhere and, oh, Lord, the doors won't open." The doors just weren't completely connecting, even with our excellent help (people on each side forcing the doors together). We eventually gave up and walked all the way back to the first floor, but carrying stair pieces back up the real stairs wasn't nearly as convenient.

In other news, Ben totally proved Mom correct and "proposed" during dinner in the dining hall. I forget what was said that led to it, but he actually got down on one knee between tables and offered up his One Ring (from the Lord of the Rings, natch), all right next to Melissa. I sense things won't work out, though, as he's still dating Melissa and was never dating me to begin with.

And, now for the weather! Snow is melting. The temp will probably drop tomorrow, it'll all freeze, and someone will die on the path to Barnett when the metal grate freezes over again.

Bound for the Payless Land

Yes, we already know that I have a thing for shoes, so this list may seem...extravagant. Yet, here, in it's brief entirety, is this list of shoes that I currently "need":

* tennis shoes - my old ones are held together with glue

* sandals - the back of the left one broke apart around November and I still wear them every once in awhile...this must stop

* plain flip-flops - my beloved black pair are about to fall apart completely and thus must be regretfully replaced

* white go-go boots - if you have to ask, you wouldn't understand to begin with

* 50s-style black heels - I'd prefer to wear something other than old dance shoes with my spiffy dress

* something white and beachy - for the vintage Hawaiian dress I just bought off Ebay

Home is Where the Replacement Stuff Is

It must be time for me to go home again because my Norton AntiVirus is about to run out in little over a week.

(Also, my Entertainment Weekly subscription is almost through, so if you still have an extra card, you need to let me know, Mom. Otherwise, I'll foot the bill this time.)

Yummy goodness

There's nothing like that fake cheese smell of a freshly opened pack of Easy Mac.

Lightswitch rave! Lightswitch rave!

I am so digging the technochocolate right now.

As if there wasn't enough proof already

Signs of Valentine's Day # 10 Zillion and Two: My Card-a-Day calendar has featured cutesy heart-splattered pink and red cards for three days in a row now.

(Yay! No 8:30 Linguistics tomorrow...I mean, today!)

This is the first time I've stayed up later than Melissa in ages! On purpose! While not watching a movie! Or just being in another room!

I'm celebrating by going to bed.

already heavily quoted

"You don't need luck if you have bacon."

(Betty Boop likes the snow)

Why does it keep snowing?! Nearly everyday for over a week now, we've gotten snow of some form. I suppose I should be happy it's not so cold it can't snow (didn't you once tell me that was possible, Mom?), but it's still Kirksville. And, the walk to Barnett Hall isn't bad enough (I swear, you really do go uphill both ways) without next-to-zero visabillity because the wind's blowing giant, fluffy snowflakes up your nose.

On the other hand, my breath is fabulous.

Just because they're only 1 1/2 calories each doesn't mean you should snack on Tic Tacs like candy. They're in a plastic dispenser to stay fresh longer, not to make them fun to pour.

Just imagine the uses!

It never ceases to amuse me that my Spanish-English-Spanish dictonary has an entry for "Batman" ... especially as it's the first on the page, so it's always listed as the heading for the page.

Yum Yum Yum Yum

There is so much bacon and ice cream in my freezer right now; all I'm missing is a Banquet Chicken Tenders dinner to make me the happiest girl ever.

"I dunno, I can't really see."

We're not going to dive into the details, but I should never be in charge of navigation again. Ever. Moving on...

"A rickety pirate ship" describes the set and our mindset

So, final hour count: for the FORTY hours I spent awake (from 7:30 a.m. on Friday morning through apx. 11:30-ish on Saturday night), I was asleep for ten minutes. Now do you understand why I haven't posted; I've been sleeping for three days.

(Well, not exactly, but I suppose I'm slowly catching up on my sleep once more...though I'll ruin it again this weekend with obsessive movie watching.)

Anyway, highlights of another 24 hours spent doing theater and trying not to kill anyone by four in the afternoon:

* Subject? Pirates, in "Yarr! the Musical," which equaled lots of jokes about mateys, parrots, and the ocean, plus "yarr" as a general word for anything.

* Hy-Vee at five in the morning (only copy place open), with a cart of fresh donuts and orange juice, desperately trying to add up/multiply/whatever the number of copies Courtney and I just made. ("Hey, Hannah, you know what's worse than a theatre major trying to do math? A theatre major trying to do math at FIVE in the MORNING!")

* the trash bag with red duct tape accented (yeah, skull and crossbones!) Pirate King jacket--so my idea!

* watching the show completely crash down upon itself during the dress rehersal, which featured apx. 5% actual scripted dialogue and plot and 95% "what the crap are they doing" hilarious improv

And, my fav lines:

* Captain: (after the Robot Pirate dies during the Storm Ballet) RUST, you foul chemical process!

* Captain: (during the dress rehersal when the finale completely fell apart, and the Capt. just randomly decided to leave the stage) Ay, mates, I be going off to the great beyond...

* Voice Over: (of Smee) I have fallen for Shannon. I think that he is truly the one for me. (back to Shannon) Stop talking. This is my monologue! Oh, now I lost my train of thought.

* Corporate Pirate: I think I shall burst into song now... and I forget what this verse said, but the only point you need to know is that the ship and the girl will be mine! I guess that's actually two, but I am the Corporate Pirate!

* (CHORUS) He's a dead man dancin'/ No more romancin' / STOP THAT PRANCIN'!/ He's a dead man dancin'!

4. Stir well.

Sure, I've been here for a year and a half, but now it's official. I am a true college student as I just finish my first batch of late-night-Walmart-run-Easy-Mac out of my $.88 back-to-school special bowl with a plastic fork at 11:45 at night.