Oh. Um. Hi there, 2017.

A conversation.

CLERK: Do you want sauce with that?
ME: Definitely.
CLERK: What kind?
ME: Chick-fil-a. Of course.
CLERK: How many do you want?
ME: As many as you'll let me have.
CLERK: [pauses] What?
ME: Or as many as your supervisor will let me have.
CLERK: Uh, ten?
ME: Wow, really?
CLERK: The machine lets me go up to fifteen.
ME: Surprise me, then.
CLERK: [Pauses, again.] Okay, twenty.

He was not allowed to give me twenty CFA sauces. I think we both knew how this was going to end.

However, I did walk out with the equivalent of one sauce packet per nugget, so here's to the fancy ramen and improved late-night chicken nuggets in the weeks to come!

(So, no wonder I'm always so tired in January)

You know you work for a repertory theater company - with the same basic schedule every year - whenever several years worth of "On This Day" posts on Facebook suddenly all become about tech week.

Today in "Things I Learned About the New Building" News:

The audio installation guys tape sugar packets inside the cabinets to aware each other (or themselves, if they're feeling sassy) for "sweet cable jobs".

There are two packets inside the booth system.

Other people probably already have one labeled "Hannah being Hannah"

One of these days I'm gonna create an email folder labeled "Being a Busybody" or "Pointing Out Mistakes" or "Asking Leading Questions So Others Make the Same Conclusion" for all the times I see something in an email / webpage / memo / general aura around someone and Stage-Manager-Spidey-Sense kicks in.

I wonder, do the DH shudder when they receive something from me beginning with the usual "I was looking at [ ] when I noticed..."?



(Oh, man. The formatting on this post is *all over the place.* I would probably send myself an email.)

all the/small things

I've just placed an incredibly detailed temporary tattoo of a catfish on my left foot.

- Man! I found some weird things while cleaning out Missouri boxes from my younger years.

- This is not the first time I've pulled from my temporary tattoo collection (or applied a weird color of nail polish or dragged out kiddie-ish jewelry or ...). Sometimes you feel a difficult time coming along, and want to try to get ahead of it psychologically. In my case, that equals sparkles and colors (and, yes, catfish) or anything else that can bring me joy when it pops into my head in the middle of a moment of stress.

So. Catfish on foot. When I flex my toes, it sorta looks like it's swimming - and I'll ride on that joy all first rehearsal.

Future self, just look at the post date on this and you'll remember.

Y'know, eating all that pizza *did* help my mood!

(Oh. Hey there, blog.)

I just finished re-watching the first season of Gilmore Girls, and my mind's a little blown that I watched the original run at Rory's age ... and now I'm Lorelei's age.

OH MY GOODNESS. I want to chew off all my fingernails so much, except I've managed to keep them intact for over a month and also I'm thirty-two, so maybe this shouldn't be so hard.

I'm working on a thing ... clearly.

"The timing will never be perfect."

Actually, that's all I want to say.

On discount, of course. I'm from the Midwest.

I had a rough, exhausting weekend ... so I bought a season of Doctor Who. That's what adults do with their money, right?

I woke up more worn out than I'd gone to bed, and it's all Spiderman's fault.

[I have no idea what led to me dreaming up Spiderman singing "Don't Rain on My Parade" and other showtunes as some sort of event for Cooksey, but there you go.]

If you stand in my bedroom at the exact right time of day, there's a small patch of sunlight - about two inches or so - where the light creaks in between the blinds and curtains. I like to stand with my big toes together, grasping all the light I can before it shifts out of focus for another day.

Meanwhile, four stuffed bags of clothing, etc. just left my apartment for Goodwill. Hurrah!

Guess who found her very first pair of show blacks (the shirt with the silver snaps that were probably actually a poor choice for backstage-wear! the pants with ALL the pockets and the nifty zipper on the side where the mini flashlight clipped on) while cleaning out closets and had to take a pause.

I need to pick up a hope chest, because I think that's precisely where you store clothing that you aren't planning on wearing again but emotionally cannot bear to part from. Though I think other people use them for wedding dresses and baby clothes, while I'd currently be housing my all-time favorite blue jeans and the capris I remember wearing on my first day as a theatre major and summerstock employee.

first day of the season

I've been home from work for multiple hours, and yet I'm still in the dress I wore to look nice for intern orientations.

Is it some sort of maturity I've reached at this point in my life, where I didn't feel the need to immediately change into pajamas upon closing my front door for the last time today?



'Course not. For once I tied a non-wonky bow with the sash, and I don't want to undo solid work.

"We got her hitched, and it didn't rain"

I was only actively involved in one of the two.

Man, I wish I could've had a longer time north with the Cooksey Collective, but I'm grateful that I was allowed any time away (during *tech week*, no less) ... though I suppose I did threaten not to be available for the show if we couldn't find a way for me to do both. (Ahem.) Still, it was lovely to spend time with the family, contribute my portion to making the day run as smooth as possible (and soothe a bride), and fake Russian folk dance to pop music at the end of the night.

Meanwhile, my actors decided to tell me they missed me by sending jokey request texts. Sorry, all. You cannot have extra cushions, I do not know where your special pencil went, and I did not sanitize your pickle jars before splitting town.

I can still feel tightness in my leg from a charley horse I had upon waking up this morning, fifteen hours ago. Of course - it's tech week.

I ate a whole pot of mashed potatoes with dinner, as I'm clearly pretending I don't have to fit in a bridesmaid dress at the end of the week.

(Might just be a night for denial, though, as I'm also watching a zombie movie after dark like I don't know how my brain works. Hopefully the Regency era dresses will distract me in this particular case.)

(Wow, I was grumpy last night.)

(Um, happy tenth to my years at ADP)

Could we all please retire the jokes and comments about "We couldn't survive without you!" and "You can't take a vacation - what will we do if we need you" and the ilk? I get that you're trying to be funny, but - after the better part of a decade - I'm tired of hearing them. The company survive for forty years before I showed up. If I'm the only thing holding us together, than people need to be updating resumes for when these jokes send me out the door.

ten.

Oh man, twenty-two year old Hannah had no idea how much life - good, bad, bizarre, heart-breaking, breath-taking - was ahead of her.


[I may edit this post later to expand up on this idea - or may not. I don't know that I need to expand upon that thesis statement.]

tin for ten

It blesses my world in ways I cannot adequate express the overwhelming number of years I've managed to grab time with my family right around the anniversary of moving to Texas (aka far, far away from them all).

See also: next week, when Okoboji comes to Houston for cup stacking.

(We're about 30 seconds from a character who just set an animal trap earlier in the scene from accidentally stepping in it.)

Oh, David Niven. I love you.


If I had to stub my toe so severely that it still appreciates ice a week later, at least I did so during the long Houston summer, where I can get away with wearing flip-flops all the live long day.

There are zero--count 'em zero--activities happening for the theater this weekend, so yahoo for all of us. (Per usual, things I should be doing: laundry, grocery shopping, general cleaning // What I'll do instead: maybe go to the pool?)

This picture may not look like much, but just saying the sentence "this is my office in the new building" aloud made me cry three times on Thursday.

And now I will have a post for July.

My "running on four hours of sleep in the last twenty-four" got a tiny boost, as I fell into a dead slump for about twenty minutes before tonight's production meeting. So, y'know, that means I'm okay to stay up and watch this foreign film about livestock.

Dear watermelon, I'm so glad you were still here waiting for me, as you're still beyond delicious (and we had way too much food at the retreat anyway).

Today I was able to see where I'll be officing in the new building and also had my first injury in the new building. For one, I wanted to write something on the walls (they aren't painted yet); for the other, I'm still icing my toe and will be in flip-flops for the foreseeable future.

Picture (not of my toe, as I'll spare you) to come, if I can ever get my tablet to comply.

(Well, *that* post sat there for awhile. Also, why is it now the end of June? Who authorized *that?*)

Right now I have an amazing bruise. Pictures don't do it justice. It's a couple inches wide in all directions, a symphony of blues and purples - except for a line of pink across the top center, right where the bench that caused my fall also plowed into my skin. Careful icing over the past day finally knocked down the swelling, though it still feels nice since the whole blotch is that combination of solid lump / tender to the touch that you get with some injuries.

[For the sake of my mother, who I can tell just wants to know what happened to her daughter: we had auditions last night, and I left a bench used in the current Mainstage show on the ground next to the stage to use as a quick step up and down. (You can already see where this is going, but I'll continue.) In stepping down mid-way through the night, life suddenly went into slow motion as the bench tipped forward under my foot. I had enough time to think "Oh. I'm falling. Why am I still falling?" before clocking into the ground. Physics and geometry met up to beat up my left leg by landing the bench *and* my full weight on my lower calf.]

I look forward to all the shades of blue to follow. Also, to forever being a story told by the two company actors onstage at the top - that time Hannah fell off the stage and immediately walked away to continue being a stage manager. (Not included in this story: the minute I spent doubled over in pain in a corner of the theater before nonchalantly returning to the lobby where no one knew I'd fallen.)

I could've volunteered to be on-site production aid for the TAA showcase...

...but something else came up.

I hadn't been inside the gates at the property since November, but the Production Manager had his parents in town and called in a birthday favor. Hoo doggies, had the building changed from that steel shell that I wasn't even allowed to approach.

I've had such mixed emotions about this building. We've been hearing about this building for the entire time I've been at ADP, but it's only been in the most recent (in a decade of waiting) that there's been real progress. Ten years is a long time to devote to anything, let alone a holding pattern. Now that it's almost here, I've spent a lot of time in thought (and prayer) about whether I'm supposed to be in that building. Today didn't completely change that, but I did think many, many thoughts about "my booth" ... so, we'll see.

(I would just like to remember this moment forever.)

Standing in the lobby, full Super Stage Manager costume present, checking in with box office about remaining tickets. Bunch of elementary school students in the bathroom lines on the other side of the room.

One girl turns around, notices me.

"WHOA!"

Nudges her friends.

"She's so pretty! She looks like *Batman*!"

Leatherman pliers, carabiner, time

Every single time I am able to fix something on my own (especially if it's something where I need to plot out how to approach and solve), I think of my Dad tinkering in the basement with the aid of his home fix-it books.

(Also: "Why are you telling me?")

I know it's the stress of tech week talking (because *oh man!* am I not taking the stress of this particular tech week well), but I really want to make an email label called "You've got to be kidding me" but I'm afraid of the number of things I'd file there.

No, seriously. Why is it April?

JANUARY: Endless cough, made so much more endless by my refusal to take a single full day off from work because my job (and my brain) are not conducive to delegation; Sundance

FEBRUARY: Peter Pan. Egads, Peter Pan; Snow Queen tech that was supposed to be me just hanging out in the booth and became me fixing the majority of the projections

MARCH: Egads Peter Pan finishes; sleep; endless watching of Amazon Prime while on a free trial; Apostle tech and live-editing script; Hero Squad prep

APRIL: Hero Squad rehearsals; LION sound tech; Snow Queen at Miller; not enough sleep

The Perfect Storm, Volcano, World War Z, Twister (on VHS)...

[Just making a list]


So, if my laptop is making the click of death and I've already replaced the hard drive at least once, I'm pretty sure that means it's time to buy a new laptop, huh? Or, I can keep ignoring it for another month ... like I've already done, huh? :)

(While we're ignoring things, also forget the fact that I've recently purchased a tablet. And that my external hard drive is getting buggy and probably also needs to be replaced. The plus side of losing my wallet in February is that I have an extra buffer leftover from subsisting on cash for a few weeks. Also, I'm Midwest cheap. This is not a problem.)


Oh, Sundance trip journal. Someday I will finish you.


This post brought to you by the fact that I wanted to post something, but don't really have anything important to say. Unless you wanna hear about me cleaning out my fridge tonight......

RRRRRWHHOOOOOOSSSSSSSSHH

Things I will miss about this building:
* ladder to the booth

* the blue walls of the S Office

* farce door!

* proximity to Whole Foods and their dark chocolate milk


Things I will not miss about this building:
* Having the outdoor waterspout directly on the other side of my office wall.

Hey, look! It's March now!

Best late night meal, bar none, is cold fried chicken.

Best breakfast is a toss up between cold pizza and (even better but it's never in my fridge) cold Chinese.

Best dinner is breakfast food - pancakes, or eggs and bacon.

I have no preference over best lunch. Probably whatever occurs without people interrupting me to do paperwork or answer silly questions.

I promise I'll write about Sundance and my lost billfold eventually, but this is so much more fun that, well, one of those.

My 'Roos are soon going to give up the ghost (I've already re-glued the soles more times that I can possible count), which led to me discovering that they were a favorite shoe of Ozzie Smith, former Cardinal. So, clearly I'm never gonna wear another brand of sneakers again.

Further helping this discovery: the easiest shipping option appears to be AmazonUK, and they make ballet flats (sans pockets) as well. In black! Ballet flats!

Blue polka dot trainers, why are you not in my size?

Oh, hey there, twenty after two a.m.! I'm just sitting here, writing work emails and pretending that my sore throat hasn't come back just in time for my trip. Y'know, as you do when you're a professional stage manager with a whole bunch of stubborn in her genetic code.

Now 3-5inches, within the five day window...

Dear self,

Where on earth did we put the one cent stamps? I don't want to use two postcard stamps on each card just because postage went up since we went to NYC.

Hurry,
Hannah

It's the on the ten day forecast, but still...

So, is it weird to be excited about the possibility of snowfall while I'm in Utah? Even when I already know I'll be standing in wait-list lines?

Hey. Hey-hey-hey. You wanna know what's the quickest way to send me off a rage cliff? Reply to an email, but don't answer every question.

Ahem.


Today I had the fanciest meal I've eaten since the *last* time I had a meal with the Artistic Director. Fantastic potatoes, excellent table bread, creamy cheesecake. Chicken was a little dry, but that's okay. I tried calamari for the first time. I also might've contributed to someone getting fired (or at least demoted from the VIP room), though it wasn't my fault that the waitress dropped my knife down my back while clearing my salad plate. (Thank you, manager who felt the need to offer to pay for dry cleaning. My $20 shirt appreciates that you think it would need such attention.)

I have cheesecake and pie in my fridge. 2016's leftovers are treating me well.

Things I've learned on my job: how to identify the sound of the theater's front door while sitting in the library on the other side of the wall; how quickly I can get to the lobby to intercept the patron who just walked in late

So, I'm pseudo-house managing tonight's show, because the actual HM is relatively new and took a seat in the house (not on an aisle, not on the back row) to watch the show ... and then late arrivals strolled in through the front door. And one had a cellphone they wanted to leave with the HM, in case of emergencies.

On one hand, it's nice. I always feel super-weird sitting in the house like a regular human patron, ready to watch a performance, like I don't spend 50% of my time in this building in a dark area elevated above the seating. On the other, the whole point of me being here tonight is for me to sit like a regular person, in a fancy opening night outfit, without having to put in additional effort. I'm glad my parents formed me into a responsible person, someone who will step up when they see something that needs to be handled, but man! it is sometimes a drag on the lazy muffin I wish I could be instead.

[Minus the specific details and phrase "lazy muffin", I feel I could've written this same basic blog post at any point over the last fifteen-ish years.]

"not on the wrong side of mortally wounded"

Hey there, 2016. I'm just sitting here on the couch, clearing out my sinuses by singing along to Broadway cast recordings (because I'd forgotten how much that sort of activity works for me), debating whether I should dose up on cough syrup again, and suddenly realizing that I haven't actually eaten dinner yet so maybe that's why I'm feeling foggy. (Hey, I had cheese crackers and creamy jalapeno. That's kinda like a meal...)

It's okay - I have fifty-one more weeks to figure out how to Adult.

Several days late shoutout to my brother for agreeing to share an order of onion rings, and then letting me eat every single one of them.

It's been a nice extended weekend. Perhaps not as cultured as other trips, but lots of movies and Rifftrax and Parks & Rec and food.

[sorta] first day of vacation

Sure, brain. Waking up at our usual time (after multiple days in a row of waking up *earlier*) is totally the same as sleeping in.

la-la-la

I'll be at a theater in about eight hours, but instead of sleeping I'm sitting here tearing up over the end of the MST3K Kickstarter telethon because I make solid adult choices.

Other stuff too, but this is the main one

Things I Feel Zero Guilt About:
* Going to the complex's Christmas party, exchanging three sentences with the only person I knew in the room, filling a full plate with food, and bringing the whole pile (including drink and bag of chips) back to my apartment.

If you think me having Doctor Who and zombie pet figurines is a strange combination, don't bother asking what else is on the same shelf.

Just looked up while pondering word choice and noticed that at some point recently my tiny 11th Doctor got knocked over and is being pecked at by the zombie bird, while the zombie dog is currently mid-starring contest with River Song. Not sure if it's through everything on my desk shuffling or actual malicious design, but jeepers! What happened around here during tech?

How lucky we are to be alive right now, when we can look up who that actor in that one thing was instead of letting it bounce in my brain for the rest of forever.

Seriously, my brain never would've connected that the actor I recognized in a current Oscar prestige film also played the whiny son on Smash.


I improvised a recipe tonight, as a major component of the recipe I wanted to try had gone off between the time when I assembled everything until I reached today. (And, honestly, in about the two years before that, judging by the state of it and its expiration date that I hadn't checked before today.) But crescent roll pizza bites were good. Perhaps some smaller pieces of Canadian bacon next time, though.

"Reason 3: Writing a Paper That is Due Tomorrow" no longer applies

(Unless you count SM paperwork, in which case .... yeah. Sometimes.)

I'm in my thirties now, which means there are only two reasons why I'd be still awake after 2:30am: I'm off from work the next day and lost track of time while putzing around OR my brain won't shut off, why won't it shut off, oh please can I fall asleep now?

Fortunately, I'm the happier of those two options this time. Though I am *super awake* right now, so it might swap over to the other here shortly. Time to pick a movie on the DVR to fall asleep to (seeing as I'm still trying to track down opportunities to re-record all the things I used to fall asleep to, back before the receiver gave up on life).

It is so cold in my apartment right now, I'm wearing a sweater over my PJs and contemplating what I can put in my oven so it can be a temporary heat source.

Ah, the joys of the complex choosing when to turn on the heat, rather than the individual.


For the first time in about two weeks, I have over 24 hours before I have to be back at the theater [don't think about that too hard, Smith]. Things to do in the meantime:

* continue to text with a McMorrough about this week's Doctor Who episode (because !!!)
* play far too many hours of Kings Quest
* put out Christmas decorations
* clean or something?

Here's a thought about eight years late: why is my side picture *not* feet seeing as that's totally my thing?

Now that I'm out of tech weekend, when [if things onstage are strained] all seems dark and awful and out to get me, let's note a few things that bring me joy:

* having access to the library system of the fourth largest city in the country
* gaining some evenings back again, just in time for prestige movie season
* all those groups I've joined that offer the possibility of free screening tickets
* people on the internet who post full video from four year old Austin City Limits concerts that had been a favorite repeat on my [now deceased] cable receiver
* writing listicals

Good job, self! We're not doing any of the "six things not to do with your dishwasher"!

Those quickie click-bait lists get me all the time on Real Simple's twitter.

Other things I can't help but click:
- Katie Cook's Harry Potter sketches
- updates from the International Space Station
- anything related to Gilmore Girls


My brain just reminded me that I picked up ice cream while grocery shopping today. I'm gonna pull out the cookies and cream *and* ice my knee with the same bowl. Multi-purpose!

11:11 on 11/11

...And here the storm hits, making me glad I didn't stop at the grocery store on the way home. (Except that I'm out of good post-rehearsal-it's-late-but-I-gotta-eat-something food. And vitamin C drops.)

I heard that the books were leaving Thursday, which kicked me into overdrive. In my brain, that caused a combination of both organizing all the stacks (now you can see all the spines! all the encyclopedia and tax law sets are together!) and jumping my pulled total up to fifty-six. But who else is gonna want that Versailles visitor's guidebook? Or all the Crichton novels? Or the poor old atlas that is split at the seams and thus begging to be used for some sort of decoupage?

When I die, just bury me under all the books I own, as that will be mausoleum enough to hold me.

In other news, I injured myself on the set so now we know the show's gonna be really good!

[My knee is mostly fine.]

Oh heaven help me, but we have piles and piles of books free for the taking in the lobby (the leftovers of the 1619* all over the Freud set), and I've hardly looked through them, and yet -- Smith curse! -- I already have seventeen in a pile to take home. Does it help that some will turn into presents or craft projects or such?**






* Yes, I counted. Have you met me? Weirdly, it took approximately the same amount of time as it does to run the show.

** No.

run for designers night

Nobody died! Nobody was murdered! (Yes, those are two vastly different things. Hoo doggies, at the end of this week, those are vastly differing items.)


[This post could've also been called "It's 11:11 pm and I'm eating cheese crackers, obviously."]

Oh my gosh, I'm so sleepy. So much for baking chicken after rehearsal.

Hey self, remember when we'd stay up all night, writing papers (that received good grades!) and eating Tootsie Rolls, and feel perfectly fine the next day. Twenty-year-olds have no inkling of the golden juices flowing through their quick metabolizing, fast recovering veins.

I'm gonna eat queso before every rehearsal!

(No, I'm not. I'm currently out. Perhaps this is the true cause of all my current ills.)

I forgot where I was going with this because I instead went down an unexpected Sam Rockwell rabbit hole on YouTube. Y'know, as you do on Monday nights when you were actually planning on doing something else legitimately useful. Maybe I never had anything else. I should stop waiting for the end of the day to decide I want to write something, especially if I'm not writing about anything in particular.

Between being in the bug suit and the top of the 12th inning, my neck is gonna be legit sore tomorrow.

Well, that was fun. Nice of the Royals to save the bulk of the action for when I was watching, even if I didn't come in until the 9th.

Needs more footage from KC itself, though. If you can't win it in the hometown, at least *show* the hometown, jeepers.

Gonna be some fun flights into MCI tomorrow. Might be some awkward subway rides tonight.

(Gotta publish this now if I'm gonna keep up the streak.)

There was no need to cook that entire box of pasta, self.

So much elbow macaroni. So, so much.


It feels strange to be home on Halloween - no rehearsal, no performance, no party. All the rain this morning certainly took the "let's do stuff!" out of me, so I'm not complaining. It's just been a long time. I haven't had any kiddos drop by, though perhaps they prefer the residential streets west of us over wandering the complex. Stay away kids, I have no candy to pass out. (Talk to me this time tomorrow, though...)

So, uh, Doctor Who, Royals, and pretending I'm not here if the children pop 'round? Sweet.

If TCM On Demand would work once more...

I don't know who in the programming department decided to follow-up "Freaks" with a Mickey Mouse cartoon, but, whoever you are, we should definitely hang out.


Things I Should Do Tomorrow:
* enjoy that I don't have to work
* clean my disaster of a kitchen
* put away laundry more than folding it and leaving it on a chair
* bake a casserole or two ahead of the full rehearsal week

Things I Will Actually Do Tomorrow
* probably just that first one

even in Australia

I don't have anything to post, but I've posted the last few days in a row and I don't feel like breaking the chain yet. (This sort of feeling will lose weight the further I get into rehearsal). That never stopped me in college, though, so here we are together.

Um, both my hair and nails are currently short. (As am I, for that matter, but that's not new.)

I mean, I sometimes *don't* want to deal, but that's not the point.

Things I am still working on: conveying that we may have an issue adding additional [scenery / props / costumes] without coming across like a grouchy child that doesn't want to deal.

In other news, I'm apparently drafting scene shift paperwork two weeks early, starting tomorrow. Oh boy!

pretend for a moment that you know how to 'adult'

I'm trying to play this game called "Work With Me Here" where both participants in a single email conversation chain answer all questions posed back and forth, with detail, rather than only answering one item with the barest of replies. (It's not even the least you can do - the least you could do would be to give a vague non-answer answer to all questions, not one sort of vague answer to one question.)

Why are you making emails feel like pulling teeth - especially as if I'm pulling my own, like I'm trying to extract information from a source that is actively fighting me the whole way.


[I am tired of adulting today. I'm going back to taping floors for rehearsal because the floor doesn't refuse to do its side of the process.]

How do you write that? / I pull out a keyboard and go to Word...

This is such a sarcastic group of people, so at least it's going to be a quotable time turning this one-act into a full-length.

I have no milk left, but it's twenty til eleven and nothing that will change tonight. Time to eat ice cream instead!

Just watched a scary film, at night, alone in my apartment because sometimes it's like I don't remember who I am and how I react to things.

I like you, Signs, and your score is beautiful, but you're a creepy frakking movie, no matter how many times I've seen you.

I did not go into that short sentence intending to use four commas.

(Sorry. I have nothing else.)

I pulled something in my shoulder while changing a lightbulb, so that bodes well for the day.

By the way everyone's been talking about the weather, we're all about to be washed away by a tremendous wall of water. (We'll see.) If nothing else, I'll take it as an excuse to stay inside and do things around the apartment ... y'know, like I really want to do anyway on a Saturday when I don't have to be anywhere official.

Might wish I'd gone ahead and picked up another gallon of milk yesterday, if the monsoon ever does start.

Christmas rehearsals start Monday. Halloween is Saturday. Theater timelines are weird.

October = the St. Luke's pumpkin patch, Christmas decorations going up way early in Highland Village, and me talking about baseball

It's weird that this time last year I would've been cheering for the Royals vs. [whoever] rather than today, when I was actively rooting for their ... not destruction, but definitely inability to cash in on momentum. Might be even weirder that the Astros are in the postseason [end of sentence], but maybe not.

Not gonna lie, though, I'm excited that there will be a game four because it means I'm gonna be at a postseason baseball game next week.

When this show closes, I'll stop putting splinters in my fingers from checking the stabbed side of the tabletop.

My job is weird.

I helped someone move this week (twice, sort of), so all I want to do is sit on my couch with a heating pad and watch foreign films I have in from the library. BUT! It's so beautiful out, in the way the top of autumn is extra welcome in Houston after the months and months (and months and...) of summer humidity, and for the first time in forever you *want* to sit in the sun.

In grief that "Parks and Rec" never won an Emmy, I may have just bought the entire series on DVD.

(But it's still me, so of course I've been watching prices for months and had to reconfirm everything before I could click the confirm.)

My goal for tomorrow is called "stop feeling like crap" which will involve lots of sleep and not being at the theater. Perhaps I can lick the potent combination of changing weather, lots of water, and twelve actors who are also trying to not be sick in a single day.

Oh, man. 2004 Me was super-earnest.

Shout-out to 2011 Hannah, who wrote a shut it down/reply to a margin note originally written by 2004 Hannah, right where I was getting overly emotional during All Time Favorite Book last night at well past midnight.

I highly recommend everyone (at some point) write notes in the margin of their favorite book, because it's quite the jolt to see where your brain was at a past point in your life. However, it does make it difficult to loan out copies after because OH MY GOSH, SHUT UP PAST HANNAH, aka now you're stuck with those grand thoughts forever. Is it worth it to giggle anew at one joke I made eleven years ago with each re-read? Absolutely.

all-time favorite book remains all-time favorite book

I'm currently re-reading A Tree Grows in Brooklyn for the nth time, which means all I really want to do is sit and read A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.

So, goodnight. Time for fifteen more short chapters.

moment in time

I'm on my couch, still in PJs because I don't have to be anywhere until tonight's show, smelling slightly of condensed milk from the casserole bubbling away on my counter (cheddar cheese and potatoes - it'll take care of part of my ongoing nacho craving) from having to go through multiple cans before finding the one that was past the 'best by' date but not actually expired, listening to Shostakovitch playing live from London as part of the Last Night of the Proms, reminding myself once more that someday I actually want to *be* at the Last Night of the Proms, a disc of 'Friday Night Lights' endlessly paused on my TV from when the concert started, and about five minutes away from working on a limerick to continue a joke with one of my actor/jurors, but distracted by the way my opening night flowers have continued to bloom one week after receiving them.

Previously plans to run around today canceled because I keep injuring myself and I'd rather do that indoors today, thanks.

In related news: the multi-bandage configuration on my foot makes it look way worse than it is. In related-related news: we need to buy a roll of gauze for the first aid kit for the next person with a cut several inches long so they don't have to Frankenstein something together.


Reviews for the show keep popping up, and happily they're all positive so far. (Also, from my side of things: this is holding true.)


Am I now going to spend my holiday putting together a spreadsheet for what to tape in the new television season? Maybe. (Yes.)

(extra plus side: I'm still in my PJs at 10am on a Thursday)

I will take this morning's nosebleed over yesterday's 'rancid chocolate milk to the eyeball' any day of the week, and month of the year.

(thanks, the two people who still read and comment)

I'm eating watermelon, mostly because I already finished the leftover mashed potatoes (which I spooned out of the bottom of the tub with cheese crackers).

If I didn't already know it (because, oh, do I know it), the last sentence would've completely pinpointed to me that I was about to open a show. My fridge definitely has a "raised by wolves" vibe at the moment.

I feel like I'm sucking at everything right now (hey there, tech week!), so here's a quick, incredibly random list of things that I *know* I'm good at:

- ignoring Ms. Fye's voice in my head when I end a sentence with a preposition

- that thing models do where they shrug a jacket off in a fluid motion to reveal the outfit underneath (it's with my robe and PJs in the morning, but still)

- alphabetizing

- scrambled eggs a la microwave

- rewriting my thought to fit within Twitter or texting character count

- not ignoring Fye's voice in my head and rewriting for better clarity after all, jeepers

Did I just leave my stuffed animal of Mr. Tugg'n'Buttons in the house so he could appear on the time lapse video?

I think we all know the answer to this question.

I put something on my to-do list in April with the full knowledge that it couldn't be completed until August. I crossed it off today, and it felt SO SATISFYING to take care of it, let alone know that I hadn't forgotten in the meantime. *Now* we can call 2014/15 LION touring complete - the anniversary card is in the mail.

Did I pop onstage so one year from now my mother can see me in the time lapse video of all the season strikes? Yes. (Checking the stage because it's my show was just bonus.)

White and green, Mamita.


In other news: thank you, math, as the set walls are currently going up mere inches from where it was taped out around the walls of Jericho (aka previous show). It's beautiful, and I love it.

wonders of the age

Seeing as I picked up new flash drives today (hurrah, sales and tax-free weekend!), it jogged my brain that ten years ago I bought my first flash drive.

I don't know. Those 258mb (for just under $25 - also a sale on tax-free weekend) are awfully close to the 48gigs ($16) I picked up today, right? :)

(I gotta pick up with *this* again, too, because it was super helpful in reminding me what I was up to in February '14 mere hours earlier.)

I'm glad I'm picking back up my habit of taking down quotes again, because it always gives me such joy when I find them years later ... such as tonight, cleaning out boxes and discovering the notebook that was clearly running around in my purse circa 2010-11. Oh, boy.




[Okay, here's one: I would be the kid like, "Why is my patronus a toaster?" -WL]

Things I love, right now:

* the knowledge that I'm sitting, watching the same show as is likely playing in the JC house

* my sweet Doctor Who and Harry Potter loving teenagers and their extensive collection of fandom tshirts

* the half gallon of fancy chocolate milk sitting in my office fridge

* post-it tabs

* the many hours of Parks&Rec that are taping this week because it's tech

I am working on a project for a pal having a rough week.

Artists I'll put on a mixtape because they seem like safe bets: Taylor Swift, Spice Girls, B-52s

Artists I'll put on a mixtape for my enjoyment (and hopefully others will, too): Moxy Fruvous, Flogging Molly, Rosemary Clooney

Things I'll put on a mixtape because they seem to be halfway between the above: Me First and the Gimme Gimmes covers of Broadway songs

Standby, Organ Boys...

(That's what they call them. Whatever gets you through your six week run, I guess.)


The side of my brain that likes fixing things enjoys doing one-off coverage of other people's shows in the same way an extreme sports expert might enjoy jumping off a cliff: it's a rush, you don't know exactly how it'll end, everyone's hoping for the best. I find it weirdly fascinating that the person who actually could have the most control over how a production goes can be completely replaced without the audience's knowledge. As I said in many emails* today, theater is weird.

It's obviously better when there's some heads-up (I like checking my bungee cord) so paperwork can be clarified, notations explained, even props reset to minimize the number of things the replacement can screw up. I still have recordings on my phone from two separate productions that I covered: nearly all the numbers in Godspell (so I could practice calling light cues on their proper bumps) and the ending of "The Beams Are Creaking" (to practice conducting and calling cues simultaneously). I'm glad today's SM had the time to walk me through life before tonight's show, as it helped to know so much was taken care of when the world tried to fall apart elsewhere. (Let's do 'Miracle Worker' with a functional-now-nonfunctional water pump? Sounds great!)

Or, no heads-up can be fun, I guess: the stage manager who knew I was in the building, so she buzzed me to come up to the booth so she could throw up. That Saturday when the morning version of BCPE had an actor not show so we brought me in to run their version while the stage manager went in for a Herdman. I sometimes wonder if part of why I try to be so meticulous in my own paperwork is to ward off theater gremelins from causing me to miss a performance - and thus call for meticulous paperwork for the last second cover.

It's midnight now, so I will quickly sum up by saying that I guess this all means I like my job. Some days, though, there's that extra kicker to get you through the three-four-five-forever weeks run.




[* These emails were asking various cast members if they have a preference for the flavor of gum or cough/Vitamin C drop we'll use in an upcoming production because the props designer doesn't want anyone stuck with an unwelcome flavor. Of course they were.]

From the minds that brought you "Standby Velociraptor," now comes "Standby Velociraptor with a Taser"

Because sometimes it takes the big guns to get people to put turn off their phones.

[I hope the one and a half people (or so) who know what I'm talking about like that.]


Super-Anyway, I feel like all I'm doing today is answering emails and watching radar maps. We're clearly going to get rain, but no one can agree yet on just how much. The meteorologist are walking a balance of 'don't panic the people' and 'don't make everyone feel so calm they accidentally drown tomorrow,' and I don't envy them that tightrope. Meanwhile, I'm planning for meetings that may or may happen tomorrow and congratulating myself on *not* buying the fancy tickets to see "Inside Out" early, as the movie theater or bus service or any other number of things may very well be flooded out by tomorrow evening.

three hours, ten minutes

Currently considering purchasing a plane ticket which will include an extended layover in St. Louis - probably just long enough (and cheap enough, compared to the direct flight options) to hop in a cab, get some Ted Drews*, and make my way back to Lambert.




* I phrase that as if I don't know what I would buy. I would buy two Cardinal Sins: one to eat immediately, one to [likely] unsuccessfully try to fit into security-approved bottles to take back with me.

Things I looked up during the Tony broadcast (in no particular order):

* Daisy Eagan's age when she won for Secret Garden

* Peter Gallagher's entire history to figure out what project Megan knew him from

* How many Tonys does ____ have?
- Tommy Tune: now 10, from 13 nominations
- Brian d'Arcy James: zero
- Michael Ceveris: because I can never remember how many Sondheim-based awards he's won
- Scarlett Johansson

* When in relation to the schedule of Smash did Christian Borle win his Tony

* Did we really have a tie for the best book over the commercial break, or did the website have a misprint?

* Cheno's acceptance speech from 1999

* Jackman's hopping opening from last year, because somehow Megan had missed it

* Does Helen Mirren somehow have a Grammy, whereas she just became an EGOT winner?


And, if you've never watched Tommy Tune's choreography for Grand Hotel, I give you Michael Jeter's lack of legs.

"Would Brian Stokes Mitchell be singing by now? ... If I'm actually on Eastern time, maybe?"

I've spent a lot of the past week thinking back to a year ago. I could probably do this more frequently (we keep solid enough calendars that I could figure out what paperwork was stressing me out when), BUT it's a lot more interesting to think back on the milestones.

It was a Big Deal Week, in a number of ways. It wasn't on the floor level (someday perhaps, young self), but I was still there - sitting at the Tony Awards. We saw two of the year's big winners. The side of my brain that also geeks about music still cannot believe that I own the recordings of casts I saw live. I've been obsessed with Forbidden Broadway since 1998 (thanks Lion King-Napster-Ragtime/Gagtime), and finally made it to the mylar curtain.

We got to hang out with people I hadn't seen in years, and let them help us feel a little like locals. My brother met people who were (and still are) important to me - whether in 315, S Office, or weaved throughout my ADP career.

And, all the ways it was a Smith Sibs trip - Caleb hanging out with the paparazzi after Letterman (which is why he has better Jackman pictures), taking notes on what comics I should be reading, checking out the children's literature exhibit at the NYPL, him falling asleep in the [outdoor] line for Shakespeare in the Park. Above all, not wanting to murder him part way through (making it a step up from London '09).

I [mostly] don't feel the need to live in NYC anymore. My own city has theater and museums and parks that I don't have time to see, and I expect it would be the same there. Fun to visit for a goof-off week of the best of theater? Yes, please, always.

Gonna finish my Tony homework for this year (I have about twenty minutes left of On the Town), cook some grilled cheese, and watch this year's telecast - minus heels.

(Technically, this isn't helping.)

My only act bandage is in my SM kit in the office, and I forgot to grab a wrist brace while I was at the store, so I'm improvising with a washcloth and hairbands.

I maybe need to stop typing so many things at work for a few more days.

tuna fish and crackers

I will say this, waiting out multiple-day inclement weather was way more fun during Ike when I had storm buddies to hang out with.

Followed by the interview with the drivers who had watched someone give up on waiting, only get their car about twenty feet further, then walk off into the horizon

My new favorite news moment of the morning is the reporter pointing out the drain on the road, excitedly talking about how the road finally has a place for the water to go - followed by a pan out to show that this road is actually a highway, at least a foot of water still standing.

The good news is that the rain held off long enough for me to get home, free and clear.

The bad news (more inconvenient than bad) is that I seem to find myself temporarily in possession of lakefront property. Let me once again thank God that my doorstep is the highest point along the entire row of apartments.

I am one away from a 100% on this, so you know what I'm obsessed with right now.

[climbed climbed climbed]

The rain needs to hold off until four (pretty please?) so I can get there and back from a movie at the MFAH. (When you finish a DVD and immediately try to find any possible way to see it on a huge screen, you don't want to be held up by weather.) At least wait until I make it back to Westheimer, okay storms? Not that I *need* to go to the discount bookstore, but it would make a cozy hangout.

I can't post this on Twitter while riding the bus, I'm already holding too much.

Right now, as I try to devour my 780 page library book on a bus for 20-40 minutes at a go, I'm starting to understand how e-readers became so widespread so quickly.

This post could've also been called "Dude! My wrists!"

And now I'm watching the old VHS copy of 'Star Wars' that I took from my parents over Christmas vacation some year.

Good thing I already know what this looks like, because the tracking button is not doing a thing (except add to my exercise for the day, since it's not even on a remote).

[No, I don't need a DVD copy.]


I wanted to treat myself to a picnic at the Waterwall today, as it's my last guaranteed Monday off for the season. When it was after one and I hadn't started lunch (or gotten out of PJs or otherwise acted like an adult...) yet, I gave up on the plan a little. I did pretend it was ten degrees warmer out than it really was and took to the pool for half an hour. I'll call that the joys of Texas - having a pool fifteen feet from my front door. (Also, the afternoon sun warming up the water enough to be in it the first week of May.)

Picnic and pool will be rescheduled to the future. I think my summer of not running a show should involve lots of both.

but I can't change time

Approximately this time last year, I was trying to get myself to fall asleep early so I could be up incredibly early for Tony Award nominations / opening of ticket sales for the ceremony.

Tonight, instead, I want to stay up for the next seven hours watching best-of Rifftrax videos. I don't know if that's a better priority or not.

Monsters! Ogres! Dwarves!

My absolute favorite moment of the LION performance at the large outdoor theater today was when the Witch called for all her evil minions to help her kill Aslan *right* as the park's train whistle tweeted, making it sound like the train was gonna bring them all over to her.

This might only be funny to me. I don't care.

I'm gonna miss this show.

Why am I still awake? I have to be up in five and a half hours.

Oh, because I'm listening to Randy Newman's "Louisiana" on a loop while I try to work out adulthood? Okay, then.

(We interrupt an utter lack of new entries in order to post something I can't condense for Twitter.)

I'm updating my bio (as you do at 11:30pm, when you've been editing the playbill for PR and realize how out-of-date your own listing is - how can my most recent credit be from 2009, anyway), and I seem to be filling it with a combination of "productions I absolutely loved" and "shows that tried to kill me and/or my soul."

I feel like that's a fair way to represent myself. We'll see how 11:30am Hannah feels.


[Don't expect to see this new bio in the next playbill. Since tomorrow morning's the pre-print deadline, I don't want to be that person with the last-minute request who makes PR brains bleed.]

I am legitimately upset that only those 15 and under get the mini-Clydesdale at one of this weekend's giveaways.

(I don't want to *buy* one - I just want the Cardinals/St. Louis-based stuffed animal given to me for free.)

SO! Clearly I died eating bad broccoli, and this is why I haven't posted since May. Who would've guessed that there'd be Twitter in the afterlife, but no Blogger? Either that or I've been busy having adventures--such as running (lost) through the streets of New York (June), fishing on a small lake in Missouri (today), and typing up so much administrative paperwork for the upcoming season (everything in between). Clearly one of those two.

Related: thanks for the joke, Will.

Unrelated: I had the start (again) of fingernails before this week, but the Cardinals are broadcast every game here, so fingernails are gone again.

(this broccoli is not quite right)

- bought groceries so I won't come back to zero food options
- made my list of things to clean before I go (to also not return to a disaster)
- will do laundry this evening while everyone else is out being social
- need to buy postcard stamps because I'm one of those people
- for personal giggles, create mini cardboard Tony Award, because there's a picture I want to take...

I can take a regular twenty minute nap if I started six minutes ago.

1. At dinner we decided that my filter must've expired with my twenties, as it hasn't been in effect since Wednesday*. It's probably the lengthy sugar rush.

2. All I want to do right now is spin around in my Tony dress at home. Naturally, I'm still at the theater and will be for another two hours.




(*This is only sort of true. When I start telling actors exactly what I'm thinking at any given moment, then we'll know that I have no more filter.)

The best part of my "write down any quote on anything" habit is finding things randomly later.

Found, with no attribution, on top of a stack of post-it notes:

"You know, I have this [sets down DVD copy of 'Million Dollar Baby'], and they totally show you how to box. And how to take someone off life support - lots of helpful hints in that one."

Having your local team in the American league is hard.

I may or may not have just looked up whether the Cardinals were playing a New York team while I would be in New York.

tech week, day two: all my fingernails are chomped

It's after ten p.m., I'm singing along to 'Moulin Rouge' while working on an Excel spreadsheet - is this junior year all over again?

(Um, please join me using this somewhat illegal method.)

My first real injury of tech week* occurred today when I banged my knee sliding down a fireman pole. Fortunately this was not the swinging vine from "The Jungle Book" all over again, as I'm pretty sure my knee will heal and not creak when the weather changes from now on, as compared to my left pinky. [In other news, the set has a fireman pole.]




*strike/load-in doesn't count ... unless it's a wickedly good injury