Hannah

Amusing, Ms. Slevin, very amusing indeed...

Tue, 16 Feb 2010 23:17:43 GMT

Missing: Psyche
Last seen: More than a week ago
Reward: None, the impostor is content filling in

Mmm, tasty tasty Pride, you're such a delicious friend I may never let you go.

I can't really explain how or why this happened but I'm becoming unshakably cocky lately. "Insufferably pleased with myself" should be the saying, but I'm totally fine with it. In fact, there's another part of me that looks on the whole thing with heightening hilarity, which results in a very possibly addictive feeling of self-satisfaction and amusement.

If I were to put a reason to it, I would have to say it's because I've started writing again, which makes sense. There are very few people who have seen me after I've written something I considered framing and dipping in gold, but they're probably familiar with this Hannah.

Some fuddy-duddy in here is also telling me not to get knocked off my high horse, but I don't think I'm going to let it happen this time. Nope, this time I'm limber and determined and I've also taped my legs to the horse (which kind of hurts).

Anyway, this is going to happen sooner or latter, and I'd rather it be sooner. It results in a lot less regret and a lot more happiness (I think).

The only area this this ego-trip hasn't spread to is my body image, but that's not surprising at all...however; my impulsive voice has been tied up in the back of my mind screaming at me for the last few days, telling me I'd look really good with bangs so I should just pick up the scissors and have at it. I think I will do it, maybe tomorrow...I don't want to find out the hard way that I'm not a brilliant hair-stylist, hahaha. But if it does look good on me, god save the world from the rolling ball of smugness that is me.

P.S. About the title, "Ms. Slevin" sounded much better than "Ms. Slevin-Vegdahl", so I'm sticking with it.

I need at least another week

Mon, 21 Dec 2009 07:45:19 GMT

Itinerary:
21: day in Corvallis with Tim's grandparents
22: given away by Tim's mom to other set of grandparents to come see us.
23: Leaving for California
28: Leave California for Amsterdam
7: Come home from Amsterdam

I never got to see anyone. I didn't get to see Crystal/Anthony/Drake or Emily or Jessica. I also didn't get to say goodbye to Shane before he goes to China for a semester.

Comparatively I see Crystal the most. Looking at old notes between us makes me miss our solo time. It's kind of hard to think that we'll never have that again, not with her being a mom. Time with Drake is enjoyable as well, I just don't ever get to see Crystal on her own which also means I can't tell if she's really happy.

I barely saw any of Emily this semester, which is frustrating. I worry that I'm not there for her enough and that she'll think I don't care.

I saw Lauren at our weekly lunch but that ended before the semester did.

Jessica and I were supposed to go see the Princess and the Frog. The only upside to that is that maybe by the time I get back it will be in one of the small theaters that I prefer so much.

Anyway, the point is I didn't get to see a lot of my friends. And I'm worried about Yuki. I love that silly rabbit so much. This honeymoon/Christmas better be awesome so I don't spend the whole time freaking out about him being lonely at home.

While I'm here....

Tue, 15 Dec 2009 07:23:49 GMT

I'm released from my house-sitting duties on Wednesday, wohoo! Nothing sucks more than feeling like you're awkwardly dating your husband again, waiting for phone calls and e-mails and becoming increasingly insecure.

But this also means I only have until Wednesday to get all this music off my tongue. The animals aren't appreciating my repetative singing of Across the Universe, but I'd never do such a thing like this at home...not where people can hear me. And by people I mostly mean the landlord/roommate. Tim has heard me sing before but not with my heart in it. Hell, my toes are getting into it now.

I highly recommend Fiona Apple's version of Across the Universe. Sing with me! One more time before bed!

Netflix is dangerous

Thu, 10 Dec 2009 07:40:29 GMT

I worked on my lit review today and found some interesting stuff. Also, my subject (measuring the satisfaction of volunteers and increasing that satisfaction) is extensively covered by the awesome Jeffrey Brudney, who I have a research-crush on at the moment.

Also, I like having a dishwasher and a food processor. And my netflix movies came today...and I watched all of them. I got two indie films and a documentary. I'm a huge fan of quirky indie movies (and documentaries) so I thought I'd get some that I've had my eye on for a while.

The documentary: Religulous by Bill Maher. I'm a Bill Maher fan and I was looking forward to his look at religion...in short one of the most disappointing films I've ever seen. I may have my beefs with Bible thumpers but even I was like, "WOW...back off!" I don't like watching people be awkwardly reduced by someone who claims to have superior intellect but no apparent empathy. I was only really interested in a few points and they were way too brief.
www.youtube.com/watch

Indie one: How to Be starring Robert Pattinson (I know, scary! Twilight, eek!). Despite the awesome looking trailer I was also disappointed in this one. I feel like it didn't actually go anywhere...but that might have actually been the point. I also feel like it's one of those movies that I'll watch again in a month and really like. I'm weird like that sometimes.
www.youtube.com/watch

Indie two: Hamlet 2. Pretty much the best thing ever. Seriously, it was one of the best movies I've seen. It's a parody of inspirational teacher movies, about a really terrible actor/drama teacher who's department is cut. He puts everything into one last grand play hoping to get funding and it's pretty much the worst/most offensive play ever. I laughed out loud a lot, which is weird (but it could be the cabin fever), but it also had a lot of heart.
www.youtube.com/watch

Seeing as I don't know when I'm going home I'm going ahead and sending them back tomorrow for three more, and I'm keeping my 1 documentary and 2 indies ratio.

Up next:
Doc: The U.S. vs John Lennon: www.youtube.com/watch
Indie 1: Medicine for Melancholy: www.youtube.com/watch
Indie 2: American Splendor: www.youtube.com/watch

Note: I watched Hamlet 2, Religulous, and then How to Be. I wish I'd watched Hamlet 2 last. The other two brought me down. I thought about watching it again before bed, but it's kind of late...*heavy heart*.

Can I go home yet?

Wed, 09 Dec 2009 02:10:34 GMT

I don't want to be here. I didn't want to be here in the first place. I almost cried before my mom even left.

Michael's mom dies a few days after the wedding and he's been in Southern California ever since "taking care of things" which means getting drunk with relatives and enjoying his unemployment somewhere that is not the couch in Portland. This has left my mom alone for that period, calling me to complain about fighting with Michael because he wants to move them down there because...well, probably because the whole thing is novel to him seeing as he hasn't gotten off the couch since June. There's sun (well, not anymore, why is it raining/snowing down there?!) and there's a music "night life" (...there's that here too, but again with the ass on the couch thing) so he wants to be down there. Despite the fact that he can't even stand Portland summers, oh and: Unemployed. Where it's super expensive to live. And moving down there would mean that my mom wouldn't have her job either (pitiful as the wages and hours are, it's a job). So my mom went down there to "check things out" even though she doesn't want to live there. Also (maybe the most terribly hilarious part) he wants to move into his deceased mother's trailer. Any of you who have seen their house see the hilarity, they don't have the space for anything. And Michael has 20+ guitars, 3-4 synthesizers and a few electronic drums. I'm sure that would fit great. He says he'll sell them, which officially means hell has frozen over (OH! That's why it's f***ing snowing in So Cal!). They'd also have to have room for Oh and the cats.

Bubba died the week before Thanksgiving. It's so surreal. They cremated him for me, his ashes are in a box in my old room. I don't know what I'd do with them though. I wanted to put them in an urn but now that I have them I don't know. I think I just didn't want the last time I saw him to be handing him to the vet, shaking, cold and alone (now I'm crying for reasons other than being stuck here). He was 15 at the very least, maybe 16. I'm 21. It feels like I had him for all my life. Maybe that's part of why it feels so unreal to be here.

My concentration is shot. I need to write my lit review. And do some work for Don. I'm also getting behind on hours. I can't leave Oh alone for too long. I don't think I've ever felt so lethargic and unfocused. Having cable is not helping the concentration issue either.

I miss Tim and Yuki. This is so unfair. Pull the newlywed away from home why don't you? What makes it worse is that I don't know how long I'll be here. She doesn't have to be back to work until Christmas Eve, but Tim and I are leaving for my dad's on the 23rd. She better be back before then. I can't stand it here (well...having a kitchen is nice, even if it is a dirty and cramped kitchen). There is a possibility that I might not see my rabbit for a month, or close to it. I might get a day of Yuki before we're off to California and then off to Amsterdam (even though the trip might not happen which I'm not even going to touch right now seeing as it's a long and infuriating story).

I want to go home.

Field Experience (copied from an e-mail I wrote on 11/5)

Sun, 08 Nov 2009 05:08:39 GMT

   After HomePlate tonight, I went to catch the Max as Tim wasn't going to come pick me up. As I was waiting, I sat down on a covered bench across from the sports bar; shortly after a man emerged from the bar, clearly drunk and clearly loud and very dirty. Sending out as many "please-don't-come-over-here" vibes as I could, he naturally came over to me and asked if he could have a dollar in a very slurred, abrupt, and mostly inaudible voice. Not having any (and being extremely scared) I said no, I didn't have any cash on me. For the next few moments he was clearly distressed by his expired Max ticket and he kept asking me for money. At one point a youth from HomePlate walked by and the man tried to ask him for a dollar also, but he was promptly ignored and retreated back to the bench next to me. I finally decided that I should give him my last bus ticket (though he never told me what he wanted the dollar for). This is when his appraisal of my appearance first started, and he made it clear that he liked what he saw. For the first time he made eye contact with me; he started making growling noises and telling me he was "a monster" and asking if I knew what that meant. I was then saved by the Max.

   Not knowing whether I should involve some authority or not, I settled for sitting as near to the train driver as I could. When we got on there were three other people on the Max and he immediately started growling at them. I should also mention that most of this time his speech was totally unrecognizable, just short bursts of noise and grunting with a lot of gesticulation. Hoping against hope that he would forget about me (but feeling bad for the other people on the train) I pulled out my book in a futile attempt to look busy and distract myself. Before we had reached the next stop I heard footsteps approaching my area of the train (gulp). He sat down in the row of seats next to mine (I chose the lone seat present in the second generation max cars). He made more unintelligible speech and asked for 5th time what my name was, though it certainly wouldn't be the last even though he never properly said it. He then noticed that I had a book in my hands and suddenly things started to change.

   "What are you reading?"
"Harry Potter," I said while I showed him the cover.
"Oooh, I like that, I like that. Which chapter are you on?"
   "The nineteenth."
"Of which book?"
"The sixth. The Half Blood Prince."
"Oooh. Will you read to me?"

   He then moved to the seats behind me and I sat sideways and began to read to him. This lasted for quite a while, with him reacting to various events in the book, or certain characters ("I'm Harry Potter, I'm Harry Potter" he would say while puffing out his chest and looking important or "I'm Hargrid" while he messed up his already wild, long hair, he would also react most unfavorably when Voldemort was mentioned. At one point he stopped me to make what I believe was an off-color comment on Harry and Hermione but I let it slide). He would also stop me periodically to let me know what a good reader I was and to ask if I would "go on a walk" with him, to which I always replied that i had to get home.

   Eventually another person got on that part of the train, he was talking on his cellphone, which led to a tense few minutes as I was trying to read articulately over the sound of the Max, and this new man was trying to hold a conversation over the noise of the Max and probably of me reading. The man (who at some point told me his name was Don) kept trying to shush the newcomer, which made the newcomer look rather alarmed. I continued reading, until a new interruption presented itself; now someone Don new got on the Max. It was hard to tell who it was but I actually sensed that this was someone with a professional relationship with Don. Anyway, the man was invited to partake in "story time" and he amusedly accepted. I then read to the two of them with the new man chuckling and asking questions when he didn't hear what I said, until he got off a few stops later. We were soon joined by a young man at Beaverton Transit Center who had a drink in a Styrofoam cup. Don told me to wait a minute while he turned and asked the man for a sip of water. The man handed over his cup and Don was very pleased to discover it was actually lemonade. When he tried to give it back the man told him he could keep it, so Don enjoyed his drink while I read more to him. Going to the tunnel at the zoo he stopped me because of the noise and took the opportunity to ask me if I was single; he was very disappointed.

   I resumed reading for a little longer until his stop began to approach. He asked for my phone number (and my name for the 50th time) and I told him no, but I would give him my e-mail address. He was fine with that and I wrote it down for him. At this time I think he was sobering up a bit and we talked a bit about the wet-weather; he was soaking and missing the dryness, but not the heat, in Arizona where he used to live. He began to sincerely thank me again and again for reading to him. He also invited Tim and I to a drumming event on Sunday and told me to tell Tim that "Dad wants to talk to him." Before he got off the Max at the Library he put back on his "Monster" persona, asking me if he looked "big", which I told him, yes, he did look big...like Hagrid.

   After he got off I was feeling quite shaken and overwhelmed, when the man who had been talking on his cell phone began to talk to me. He asked if I knew the man and I told him what happened. He was actually an off-duty officer and told me he was keeping an eye on me to see if I looked for help, but that he hadn't actually been able to tell if I knew him or not from my manner, though he thought I looked rather uncomfortable. I told him about being a social work major and he told me I was good, and that the whole thing was probably great training and that the situation went very well. As he got off he also remarked that me reading to him and being so friendly (and the young man who gave him that drink) probably really made his night. I agree.

   I feel pretty good about the whole thing, but still shaky and full of adrenaline. I'm sorry it was kind of long, but I really wanted to share the story with all of you.I can't help but wonder what might have happened if he hadn't met such nice people on the Max tonight (and to worry about his welfare).

   What a night,

Fall Rides and Bunny Times

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 23:05:38 GMT

   This first(+) week of being married has been pretty relaxed. I could use another week or two off though to finish settling in. We're still not unpacked or moved in completely. We have everything from my storage locker here, but not much from my room at my mom's house, which is pretty tragic in my opinion because I have two full bookshelves that have been screaming my name, and most of my clothes there. The bar, which is most of our small kitchen area is packed full of kitchen stuff that needs to find a home, and there are two big boxes in a similar situation. I really wish we had a full kitchen to ourselves. Most of what we registered for was kitchen paraphernalia since I love cooking but there's no where to put it all. Sad fish. Yuki enjoys hiding behind all the boxes though. We still haven't bunny-proofed the place either, but he hasn't even thought about chewing on any cords as far as I can tell. Still, to be safe we need to get that done. No fried bunnies in my life please!

Most of last week was a blur. We went grocery shopping, which was fun. Not new, since we often went together for stuff for my dorm room at Pacific, but this time it was our stuff. We've also been eating out a surprising amount so far. This is surprising because I love eating at restaurants and Tim usually doesn't, but it's been his idea quite a few times so far. I'm ok with this. I had all these dreams of starting a cooking/home blog the day after the wedding and it would be full of the wonderful homemade meals I prepared, etc. I see now that this isn't going to happen anytime soon. I don't have a good digital camera (in fact I have a terrible one) and I don't really have the time at the moment, though I'm not entirely sure where all this time is going.

   Oh! We also broke the bed...twice. And by "we" I really mean "me". The first time Tim had just joined me in bed, where I was reading (Fruits Basket manga!) so I sat up to put it away when suddenly the frame on my side split. We slept on the mattress on the floor for two nights while we waited for it to be ready to sleep on again; Tim fixed it with wood glue and a lot of new screws. Then the other night one of the boards slipped on my side, stripping off some wood from the inside of the frame and squishing an empty under-the-bed box...I'm not THAT freaking fat! (Am I?). I keep consoling myself with the facts: the bed is from the '50s, we payed $39 for it, and I sit up way more than Tim (because I like to read in bed). Tim rearranged the wooden slats though, and it seems to be more sturdy near the top/middle.

   On Saturday we took the motorcycle to Tillamook. It was the longest ride either of us had been on, and the whole passenger thing was still pretty new to Tim (and the whole motorcycle riding thing was still pretty new to me). It was a beautiful ride. I really like the fresh air you get when riding. Not so much the car exhaust, but that wasn't an issue on this trip. Once we got out of Portland the roads were fairly clear. All the open meadows and forests were great to drive through. Fall is my favorite time of year. The colors and the crisp air are amazing. What was less amazing was the cold, especially through the Tillamook Forest. We took a break on the way there, and the way back. There was a problem getting the bike to start again on the way there, but other than that there were no complications really. We went to the cheese factory and got yummy samples, some cheese for our families, ice cream, and some caramel corn for us. I was so tempted to get some local handmade pasta but I resisted; it was so expensive! I need to make my own. Needless to say I'm now pretty comfortable on a motorcycle. And I can put my helmet on without contorting my glasses in terrible ways now.

   I dropped ceramics yesterday. I feel pretty guilty about it. I was taking the class for fun and then it became not so fun anymore. They let me increase my practicum hours no problem, so that's not an issue. I still feel bad about the professor, I liked her. And my friends I made in the class. It happened so quickly that I didn't even get to tell them or say goodbye. I've been trying to find them on facebook, but I can't. I'm thinking I might go next Monday just to say bye to them.

   On another note, I've done five loads of laundry today, three of which are drying on the three lines we have running in the basement. I feel so domestic. I would like to be a stay-at-home writer, I wonder if it will happen though. I started writing a bit of character details for a story I've been working on yesterday on the max, in a mini-notebook that Jessica got me from China. It reminds me of "the cow" from high school. It was this awesome little book with a picture of one of those cow sculptures on it and I made it into an awesome quote book/miscellaneous writings from my friends and I book. Then I lost it. I miss the cow. I'll do a better job at hanging onto this one.

It's been a while

Sat, 10 Oct 2009 21:37:35 GMT

Summer:

Mom tried to un-invite my dad to the wedding.
Got a rabbit (Yuki). So much LOVE!
Went to the beach for a week with Tim's family (again). Tim made me cry at the croquet game at the park. I did what I always do, ran away and hid. Nathan found me and I cried on him a bit. After Nathan left their aunt came and comforted me and I cried on her too.

    Now, to the point. The wedding is a week-ish away. We're renting a room in a basement right behind Tim's parent's house by UP. We finally got a bed last weekend, so we slept in the room last Sunday night, and also last night. Our roommate/landlord is out of town so we spent the night over here watching The Office and eating mac & cheese (Annie's organic of course) and had a bit to drink. Well, I should say I had a bit to drink: a few mouthfuls of wine and a vodka and cranberry juice, heavy on the juice. Tim had three soda and vodkas in a huge Taco Bell cup.

    At first Tim being drunk was kind of fun, he let me put on Cry Baby (a musical staring young Johnny Depp), but he wouldn't shut up during it. He was growing increasingly clingy and insecure, which I put up with, after all those are two of my personality characteristics. Then we went to bed, where he continued to be chatty and insecure/loving and also started sending me mixed signals. At one point he got up to use the bathroom (we have one connected to our room). On his was back to bed he fell down and then crawled back to bed, thinking it was rather amusing. I started to cry. We eventually fell asleep for maybe 40 minutes I woke up and reached to turn down the music we were listening to before bed. I did this very carefully so the light wouldn't wake up Tim, but as soon as I'd set it down (Tim's mp3 player) and went to lay back down, Tim sat up a bit, covered his mouth and threw up.

     Being afraid beforehand that he would start throwing up (he'd been complaining the room was spinning before he fell asleep) this wasn't a total surprise. I immediately got up and asked if he needed something. He was non-responsive. I asked again with mounting panic and he gave me an indiferent "yeah." So I went and got a roll of paper towels, I put them next to him in bed since he made no move to take them. He never did use them, he just kind of laid down fully again, with vomit on his face, hands, pillow, and next to his head in bed. I was really concerned but I was also getting angry. He was continuing to switch back and forth with non-responsiveness and "yeah"'s so I told him to at least lay on his side so he didn't choke (which he half obeyed) before I told him I was sleeping upstairs ("yeah"). So I took my pillow and left, starting to cry as I walked up the stairs. The couch was comfortable and there was a blanket on it, but I was cold and lonely and sick with worrying about Tim. I played a bit of Oregon Trail on my cell phone and tried to sleep, but I couldn't. I went to see if Tim was ok and he said he was fine, so I went back upstairs and repeated my Oregon Trail/try to sleep/check on Tim routine.

   This time he seemed more awake. He sat up and moved his legs as if to get out of bed but he just sat there on the edge of the bed. I asked if he was ok and he said he felt sick. Then I asked if he needed help, he nodded, doubled over and puked all over the floor (carpet...). He eventually made it to the bathroom, puking on the way. I stood outside the bathroom with a sock stuffed in front of my face block the smell, sobbing and panicking, not knowing what to do. He threw up in the toilet for a while and then turned to the sink to wash his hands and face. From the brief look I took at his face in the mirror he had threw up more in bed and then slept (this was confirmed by the pillow/bed). He talked a bit and I told him I didn't like it when he was drunk (I hadn't liked it before he started throwing up either, but that sealed the deal for sure). He told me he was confused and still a little drunk. He wanted to take a shower but I told him to wait because I didn't like the looks of his shaky legs. He went back to the toilet for a while, then got in the shower. I continued to pace around with the sock over my mouth and nose, not knowing what to do but wanting to do something for him. I eventually alternated between doing things on my computer in the other room and checking on Tim, even though he couldn't hear my quite right through the shower/sock/crying-ness. I was at my computer when I heard a big bang from the other room, I rushed in thinking that my worst fear would come true, that he slipped in the shower and hurt himself. He was fine, he'd thrown himself ungracefully down on the floor of the shower so he could sit. He sat there for the slowest 20 minutes of my life.

   When he got out of the shower I made sure I was there to hand him his towel and be sure that if he slipped I'd be there, though if he had I doubt I could have done anything useful as he's so much bigger than me. He seemed more sober now and said he felt like he just needed to sleep it off. I have him a hug and saw him to bed, telling him to make sure he didn't choke if he threw up again, then I headed back upstairs. It was around 5:00 a.m at this point. I lay there for a while before I fell asleep. I woke up several times with visions of Tim laying downstairs dead, covered in vomit. I checked on him several times when I got up. The first, he had just laid back down after cleaning the bathroom. Now, several hours later, a few loads of laundry and a lot of cleaning on Tim's part things are almost back to normal. Except that next time he'd rather suffer through a musical sober.

   Also, to make life more awesome, when I woke up and headed downstairs I noticed something on near the bottom of the stairs that looked like a big orange leaf. I thought Tim had gone outside for some reason and tracked it back in the house. It was a pile of furball vomit from Ferris, our landlord/roommate's cat. He didn't want to be left out of the vomit-fest I suppose.

One of my favorite poems

Mon, 18 May 2009 22:42:59 GMT

I should be writing two papers that are due tomorrow, but I thought I'd stop and share one of my favorite poems. There's also more info on the Norman Morrison wiki page, if you're interested, but really the poem tells the story pretty well in my opinion.

Norman Morrison

On November 2^nd 1965

in the multi-colored multi-minded

United beautiful States of terrible America

Norman Morrison set himself on fire

outside the Pentagon.

He was thirty-one, he was a Quaker,

and his wife (seen weeping in the newsreels)

and his three children

survive him as best they can.

He did it in Washington where everyone could see

because

people were being set on fire

in the dark corners of Vietnam where nobody could see

Their names, ages, beliefs and loves

are not recorded.

This is what Norman Morrison did.

He poured petrol over himself.

He burned. He suffered.

He died.

That is what he did

in the white heart of Washington

where everyone could see.

He simply burned away his clothes,

his passport, his pink-tinted skin,

put on a new skin of flame

and became

Vietnamese.

-Adrian Mitchel

If it smells like a hippie...

Fri, 01 May 2009 02:50:17 GMT

It has come to my attention lately that I smell. See, I ran out of deodorant last month. I was planning on it being my last stick, as I've vowed to use only natural/homemade hygiene products. However, I don't have the money to buy the essential oil I'd like (mmm coconut), or the natural shea butters, etc. So I've been using my Burt's Bees talc-free baby powder (which does not smell like baby powder. Instead it smells amazing). I figured it would work since the two main ingredients are cornstarch and baking soda, and that seems to be a widely agreed upon, simple base for homemade deodorant. Anywho, it works well enough, but there's no denying that I don't smell as...chemically altered(?) as before. In fact, I smell a bit. In a "natural" way. Tim can attest to the fact that this usually bothers me, but that's passed. I've embraced my slightly-smelly pits. (I should also add, that I'm 95% sure that no one else has noticed my change in smell...that might change during the summer...)

I've also been listening to a lot of "new" music lately. I fell in love with Pandora Radio (www.pandora.com/ ) and have been listening to the Donovan station, also featuring The Beatles (mostly Lennon), The Turtles, Simon and Garfunkel (I think I like Paul Simon's solo stuff better so far), Neil Young, and Bob Dylan. So I'm enjoying me armpits, my unshaven legs, my "new" music, and my newly found rebellious attitude toward authority. Also, I've been thinking a lot about Socialism. I don't think there's any denying anymore what I am...(no, Lauren, not a mermaid) a hippie. I'm ok with this.

First (real?) lucid dream

Thu, 23 Apr 2009 16:19:13 GMT

    Whenever I realize I'm dreaming, it's during a nightmare. So, with my new found knowledge I set out to kick some bad-guy-ass! However, once I realize I'm dreaming and try to use that to my advantage, everything gets worse. This always happens in a struggle. So if I decide that it's my dream and I should be able to have super strength or super speed I...yeah, I don't get it. When I try to exert my will on my dream, it gets flipped around. I'm suddenly extremely slow, weak, can't really do anything. So that coupled with the fact that now I know I'm dreaming can make for an added dimension of a nightmare. I'm sure it says all kinds of things about myself that I can't seem to willingly give control to...myself. And then screw myself over. Damn selves! Why can't we all just get along?

   Anywho, I had an interesting dream last night. I was in the woods with my dad, step mom, and half sister. We were walking around, so were a lot of other people, and there were ducks everywhere! I love ducks! So I had lots of ducky fun. I picked one tiny, tiny one (seriously, it was the smallest baby duck ever) to take home with us. So I take it home and start caring for it. There was some strangeness in the dream (I couldn't find a suitable container to put some water in, and also the duck kept growing and changing), mostly it was just a weird feeling though. Then I woke up.

Realizing I still had about an hour before my alarm went off I gladly went back to sleep. The only thing that my two dreams had in common were the duck (at times), vaguely the setting, and my weird feeling for most of it. I was hanging out with 4 friends, when one of them went insane and decided he would try to kill us all with lead poisoning(?!). I narrowly escaped, and despite the fact that he nearly destroyed the door to get to me he decided not to. So I went and got help to save my remaining, sane friends. So they took him away. I then got to worry about where the hell my duck was and realize that I was totally in love with one of my friends (it was a dream friend, who didn't exist in real life. Also, he was scarily unattractive and was kind of Frankenstein monster-esqu). But anyway, we totally fell in love, and I think we made out a bit. Then our other friends (one who was KT-like and the other who was rapidly appearing to be Emily) decided we should go somewhere.

   As we gathered our things to go I couldn't find my jacket, and that's when Emily seemed to realize I was dreaming. She said "something isn't right here..." And then I realized I was dreaming, and it wasn't going to have a happy ending. My thought "oh crap! This is a dream and that crazy guy who tried to kill us is going to come back! Abort abort!" But I couldn't wake myself up, despite my best efforts. So we went upstairs (we were in a basement) and into a parking lot. We were heading to a skate park(?) when I suspicious car drove by, with no one in the driver's seat. Somehow I knew it was that guy, and my panic spread to everyone else. So we started running to get away, my new found love was pulling me toward the woods, but it was really far away. Anyway, I eventually convinced myself to open my damn eyes, before something terrible happened. And I was awake! Wohoo! Take that subconscious biznatch who wants me to suffer (but is also...me).

   Good times were had by all. Except I can't shake the creepy, 'just had a very strange experience' feeling.

Peculiarity, encounters, and binging

Thu, 23 Apr 2009 05:25:10 GMT

    Firstly. something that gives me a peculiar feeling/worry: people have been concerned about the state of the environment, oil consumption, mass consumerism, etc. for much longer than I've been alive. I mean, really. There were movements about this in the 60s and 70s. Why do we still suck? Also, IMF and World Bank. I'm not the first person to be like "hey! You can't do that!" so why don't more people know about it? And why hasn't someone actually done something? These things worry me. Because these are old, shitty problems and I really feel like we should have gotten around to changing them. It feels sort of discouraging when I find out the problems I see in the world are so old.

   Ok, the actual reason for the post. Tim and I went to a Lutheran engaged encounter weekend in Auburn, Washington. Now I know what you're thinking, "WHAT?! Hannah went to something Christian?!". I know! Crazy, eh? I must admit that I spent the whole ride to Northern Washington with a huge stress-induced eye-pressure headache, which left me with bad focusing issues. Also I was really hungry, and also cried at one point, which (thankfully) went unnoticed as Tim was driving and his mom was sleeping in the passenger seat. To make matters better for me, when we pulled up Tim's mom took a moment to talk to me, I didn't cry again but for the first time it came up that Tim's parents thought this was a good idea. I thought that this whole thing was Tim's idea, which is why I was ok with it, and also not suspicious at all.

   I won't give you every detail, just the summary. Overall it was a very good experience. I didn't think that it was possible to feel closer to Tim but I do (did? I don't know, at the moment I'm somewhat impatiently waiting to hear from him, while I keep reminding myself that he's probably working so we can spend time together this weekend). There wasn't really a whole lot that we hadn't already talked about, but it was still nice to have the weekend to talk about them uninterrupted and to be all lovey (except we couldn't sleep together).

   When I wasn't feeling all lovey at Tim I was feeling alienated and (internally) oppressed and anxious because of the heavy Christian influence of the weekend. Seeing as it was at a Christian camp, and also a Lutheran thing. I spent most of my non-Tim time in a constant high-stress state from all the anxiety. The anxiety only lifted on the last night, when I told everyone that I wasn't Christian during the "sharing" session. Without that burden I actually got some sleep (which also probably had something to do with the fact that my roommate slept on the floor that night). Of course after that I felt like people were treating us differently, which is possible, but I don't know how much of it was in my mind (most, possibly).

   Ridiculous highlight: This lady told us that we should read the summary of this book, so she pointed us to the pages and we took a walk, found a bench to sit on and read it together. One side was advice for husbands, it was all pretty good, nothing to revelational. The other side was for wives. Both were acronyms, the husband's side was COUPLE, the wives side was CHAIRS. The 'C' was for 'conquest'. Stand by your man! Next was 'hierarchy', respect his authority! 'A' escapes me, so it must not have been too bad. The 'I' one talked about how you should know that you're "intuition" (yes they put it in quotes) was silly to him and not valid (or at least that was my sense of it). I was too shocked by 'I' to remember 'R'. 'S' was of course, sexuality. Remember, ladies, that you must ALWAYS have sex with your man when he wants it. That's what the book said. WTF?! We both thought it was ridiculous. I was beyond pissed, while Tim kept laughing at it. But we were united in our opinion of the ridiculousness of it, we just expressed it differently. Anyway, that book is a whole other discussion.

   One awesome thing that happened was that we wrote our vows. It was during the section that we were supposed to be writing a prayer together and then getting it blessed. We were going to just sit there, but I went and got my binder and wrote, "Dear Tao," in the 'Differences' section, since it was only fitting. We then traded off on writing. It's short but meaningful and representative of us and we meant to use it, as I said, as our vows. It was a nice moment between us.

   Seeing as the engaged encounter left us feeling supper excited to get married, I've been doing a lot of wedding thinking. What with my less than stellar looks I've been doing a lot of stressing about how I'm going to look. I developed a pretty good skin routine, which I've been slacking on. But it always comes back to my weight. I'm fat. I worry a lot about my health, not just my physique (which Tim loves). Diabetes, high blood pressure, etc. run in my family. And then, of course, on the news last night they did a short story on how people with psoriasis are at a higher risk of getting diabetes and heart disease. This is also the case with women with pcos (poly-cystic ovarian syndrome). So you can imagine that all causes me some stress. I think the thing that makes me panic the most is the fact that after we get married I'm going to be dropped from my dad's insurance, which I've had all my life. I don't know anything about getting my own insurance, other than I can't afford the care I'm used to. My number one worry is getting turned down for coverage because of my weight. It really, really, really worries me.

   So I try to be healthy. I try to eat well and get at least some exercise (that's the part I fail at). So this morning I was uber focused on my health, I planned out a healthy breakfast and lunch, and then was going to go grocery shopping for a good dinner (spinach enchiladas) but my knee started hurting really bad. Earlier I had signed up for free fitness plan online, one of the questions being "how many squats can you do without stopping?". Well, I did enough to mess up my knee at least. So I went to dinner in the UC. Paying for it sucked; I was really bitter that my block meals were all deleted after last semester, even though I paid for the damn things. Anyway, after a small plate of pasta, tomatoes, squash, and a small bowl of tortilla soup I was full. Being cheap and in the habit of sabotaging any attempt at improving my health, I felt I should get my money's worth. I then had two full-size pretzels with cheese sauce, two scoops of ice cream, a small piece of cake, a cookie, and a plate of fries. Damn it all. Anyway, I have a serious binging problem. Anytime I put too much thought into what I "can" eat I fuck myself up. I've done this since I was in middle school. Of course, I've never purged. I just binge and then feel like the worst, weakest person in the world. I should probably stop doing this. I really wanted to work out today and eat right. I fail at health.

(I probably should have started with the binging, and then talked about the engaged encounter, because now I feel really depressed)

I want my Revolution, yesterday

Sat, 07 Mar 2009 09:58:22 GMT

They're onto me

Mon, 23 Feb 2009 22:00:42 GMT

   I got my journal (of responses) back from my Human Behavior in Social Environment class, with the comment "Nice job! Look at your handwriting as you get more passionate. It's great! :)"

   A little piece of myself that I had never understood was suddenly so apparent. I have awful handwriting! I have more passion than I know what to do with! My handwriting sucks because if I'm emotionally involved it gets feverish and erratic; I'm almost always emotionally involved. Wow.

   Just a little insight into the mysterious workings of moi.

Icy

Sat, 21 Feb 2009 20:51:50 GMT

   Don't worry about silly me, crisis averted. What was the matter you ask? I was developing quite the cold feet. Don't worry they're gone. And now Tim has fuel for the rest of our lives.

   Tim: I love you.
   Hannah: I love you more.
   Tim: Cold feet, I love YOU more! Hahahahahahaha!
    Hannah: *cries*

    Also, I'm getting really sick. The social work department has the plague and now it's my turn.

...

Fri, 20 Feb 2009 07:40:33 GMT

   It turns out I'm not as sure about life as you thought I was

   And I'm much better at restraint than you thought I was

    I'll probably push send anyway, because my impulse level seems to be the only stable part of myself at the moment.

Tim's Valentine's Present (Pics to follow)

Sat, 14 Feb 2009 20:38:16 GMT

    As is tradition, I wrote something for Valentine's Day for Tim. I also bought him unsweetened soy milk and his favorite orange juice, the double 75 cents off kind from Safeway!

   I also busted out the creativity and made him two things: I painted an egg carton and put candy in it (gummy fishes and heart candies), hopefully I can post pictures because that's really the only way to get the full effect. The other thing I made from one of those chocolate orange containers, a straw, and the piece I wrote him(I'm so Macgyver). I rolled the writing into a small piece, which made the center of the flower, then I held it in place with the gold/silver wrapper from the candy which made the petals, then I encased it in the plastic shell as protection and sealed it closed with hot glue, then I slapped on a straw with more hot glue for the stem and viola! I hope he likes it.

So here's what I wrote him this year (if you didn't know, what I wrote him last year was my first blog entry, it was for my English class):

I worry sometimes that the passing of the days will make me forget the small beauties of our love. That for some fleeting moment at my desk I won’t be able to recall the pressure of your arms around me or the clarity of your eyes or the touch of your lips on my neck, on my shoulder, on my brow, on my lips. I want to hold onto every moment we have together forever. I always want to remember.

Your love makes me feel like a warm spring day. The sun caressing the earth, and lighting every blade of grass, so new and so fragile, and every perfectly chiseled line in the tress, so seasoned and so strong. Lying in the grass, feeling the prickly, tickly, softness under me. The smell of the earth below me strong, and moist and reassuring. The soft, gentle breeze raising my skin, and the yearning to have just a little more sun on me through the shadows the leaves and the tree casts around me. My vision a sea of subtly shaking green, golden leaves in front of a sky of the clearest blue. And my heart would want to burst, in that small moment because the world is so full of life and harmony. It would swell starting in my stomach as a balloon, and it would slowly rise to my heart, where like a bubble it would burst forth in a shower of perfect, giddy happiness; a thousand cyan butterflies in the air. And as I recovered from the sudden lightness of my head I would close my eyes. Now a see of bright shapes dancing behind my eyelids, and it would fade as I succumbed to my lazy, warm, drowsiness. And I would want to be one with the soil below me; to be nurtured by it as I grow and to be reborn in it when I die.

Finality

Mon, 26 Jan 2009 09:50:01 GMT

   I feel like I did an ok job studying for my final. I took it really relaxed, which I'm hoping will work better than intense studying. After Tim left I played some Sims2, studied a little, ate and watched the Simpsons, etc. And then studied more with a lot of internet breaks.

   With winter III coming to a close I feel like I should give a few highlights.

    This last month has brought me some of the oddest and memorable dreams I've had in a long time. Including being a super-hero-twin, and a detective-nun who fought a demon to save a little girl. Also, I had two flying (though really my flying dreams are more like semi-controlled hovering) in a row. The superhero one and another. I always like those dreams because the feeling in my stomach is so intense and interesting.

     The feeling I had when I was fighting the demon was a similar sort of intense physical sensation, which I never feel in dreams otherwise. That one was scarier though. Even though I was an awesome nun who was going to kick its ass.

    Last night I also had two dreams that I was in. This is unusual because I'm almost never myself when I dream. But I saved Emily and I from a tiger and...I'm sorry Avery...I broke your boat. There was also a weird bit with living with Shane and others. We had graffiti on the outside of our house, something about "Precious" and something semi-Bible-ish. (Which was from yesterday).

      Tim and I went to "church" last night (which is no longer a church apparently, hence the quotes) to talk to Paul to see if he would marry us. The house was empty when we came in and it left me feeling really creeped out and full of foreboding. We waited around a while and eventually found out that he was in the backyard the whole time *geniuses*. He said he would be happy to do it and then began some preliminary...I don't want to call it pre-marital counseling for some reason but I guess that's what it was. It made me excessively nervous because I finally had to tell him that I'm not Christian, which he always just assumed. He gave us some advice about communication and other such things which somehow ended into a 30+ minutes rant/soap box about Christianity which made me kind of uncomfortable at times and even more nervous. I kept expecting him to tell me that he couldn't condone this since I'm not Christian. But that was pretty irrational since he seemed to think it was ok, and is willing to read my copy of the Tao te Ching. So I guess we're going to have a Christian/Taoist ceremony, which is ok.

     In other news we moved the wedding up by 2 months ish. We went to Voodoo Donuts Too and...yeah, it wasn't cool. The original one is infinitely awesome, the other one not so much. So we started over again and this time we're going with things that I originally was thinking about. We moved it to October 18th, the day we met, at Pioneer Square, where I totally started falling in love with Tim. We still have a lot of things to work out though about...everything. We need to turn in an application, and figure out the reception site, which might be at UP. Moving it up 2 months made me happy because it's more meaningful, yet it also has caused a lot of stress. Earlier this week I somehow thought it was a good idea to register with The Knot, a wedding planning site and community, really early in the morning. They told me I had 200+ things to do and 30+ were overdue! Ahh! So I stayed up until about 4:00 am freaking out and trying to plan my entire wedding right then. Not so good.

     Last night I also felt especially close to Tim which I really liked. It's been a while since I've felt that intense of a bond. We had a ton of that earlier on when we were first getting to know each other. Feeling it again made me feel good and in love. Well, I'm in love with him any way you look at it, it was just nice to feel that connection again. We're so comfortable with each other all the time now, and I guess that super-connected feeling just made me uber aware of him, and us.

       Change in topic: worry. A few days ago Jessica was having a hard time with her long distance relationship; which seems natural as it was approaching the "oh God we haven't seen each other for a week" mark. Anyway, I stumbled upon her online when she was writing him a breakup letter because she said she couldn't deal with it and was feeling like she wasn't good enough. From previous conversations we'd had I knew she really loved him as he did her, and though I've never met him (you know, him being in Tuva and all) I feel like they're a really good match. So I rationalized with her (I know, scary, me being rational) and got her to say she would talk to him about how she felt rather than breaking up with him and immediately deleting her facebook/social networks that he could contact her through. But she hasn't talked to me since/hasn't been online since. It's worrying me a lot because I don't know what happened or if she needs me, or if she's mad at me. I just want her to be ok, and of course I'm too cowardly to initiate contact to make sure she is. Oy vey.

   Another magical change in topic as I become bipolar in reminiscing: YAY! Tim likes something I made him! It was a f.e.l.t sandwich; fake-bacon, egg, lettuce and tomato. It was happy times that he enjoyed it so much. =)

I should go to sleep. But I'll probably go dink around on facebook, or start a twitter thingy because Tim mentioned it to me and now it's appealing...and I hate the commerical-ness of facebook now. Down with the Man! Night.

          Oh, and 恭喜发财!

It's Gun O'Clock!!!!!

Thu, 22 Jan 2009 00:41:51 GMT

I...must...have...one...

Wow!

Fri, 16 Jan 2009 19:56:05 GMT

I totally just flipped an egg with my awesomness and gravity. Not so Impressive you say? Well it was to me because I've never even tried it before and I did it on the first attempt.

...Now's when I shamefully admit that the yolk broke when I cracked the egg, so I tried it because I had nothing to lose (I heart yolks). But still: impressive!!

I got conformation yesterday that my meal plan waiver was accepted so hopefully I'll be getting better and better at cooking, and with KT and Emily as my guinea pigs I shall rule the world of the Clark Hall kitchen.

Anywho, I enjoy cooking...and I wish Tim enjoyed my cooking as much as I do. But so far he's pretty neutral to everything I make...ish? But it's probably just passionate ole' me wanting him to be equally passionate about something that isn't that important (to him); food.

I should probably finish eating my fakin and study more for my math test in about an hour.

Movie Game!

Thu, 08 Jan 2009 08:27:26 GMT

1. Pick 16 of your favorite movies.
2. Go to IMDb or something and find a quote from each movie.
3. Post them here for everyone to guess.
4. Strike it out when someone guesses correctly, and put who guessed it and the movie.
5. NO GOOGLING/using IMDb search or other search functions.

1. "Sometimes I think people don't understand how lonely it is to be a kid, like you don't matter. So, I'm eight, and I have these toys, these dolls. My favorite is this ugly girl doll who I call Clementine, and I keep yelling at her, "You can't be ugly! Be pretty!" It's weird, like if I can transform her, I would magically change, too." Chelsea, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

2. "These are hard times for dreamers."

3. ~~"I was thinking about chaining myself to a bulldozer. Do you want to come?"~~ Kayla, I Heart Huckabees.

4. "Was that the first time someone sang the National Anthem into your ass?"

5. "When I die and I stand before God awaiting judgment and he asks me why I let one of his miracles die, what am I gonna say, that it was my job?"

6. ~~"I'm looking for baggage that goes with mine."~~ Chelsea, Rent.

7. "We could have a life we two, maybe not like you remember. Maybe not like I imagined. But we could get by."

8. "I like your boobs. They're very friendly and unpretentious."

9. ~~"That's twice this month you've slipped deadly nightshade into my tea and run off."~~ Emily, Chelsea, The Nightmare Before Christmas.

10. "Your sister will have seven children. You will see the first two."

11. ~~"They look like big, good, strong hands, don't they? I always thought that's what they were."~~ Chelsea, The Neverending Story.

12. "My heart has joined the Thousand, for my friend stopped running today."

13. ~~"Oh, I have those too! What kind of emotional problems does your dad have?"~~ Emily, Lauren. Donnie Darko.

14. "They're just boys Verena, not communists."

15. "The hills are made with the euphonious symphonies of descant..."

16. ~~"Nope; I'm just an ordinary guy who has nothing left to lose."~~ Kayla, American Beauty.

Jerk

Sat, 03 Jan 2009 05:47:07 GMT

   Sometimes I can be a jerk. Cold is probably a better term. I just get aggravated and I don't want to be bothered by anyone, or touched by anyone. It's sort of a....cat-like syndrome. You know, when they get all huffy and just out of reach and keep dodging your touch.

   Anywho, I did that to Tim today, not for the first time. I was feeling stressed about flying, and my mom, and money. So I pushed him away, and now I really miss him. It's so stupid that I do that., but it's a really old habit. I guess that's what New Years resolutions are for(?).

   I miss Tim-Tim. I loves him. Mush...*stress*

24 hours, maybe

Sat, 27 Dec 2008 07:01:21 GMT

Perhaps in 24 hours I will be being held by my Tim-Tim and crying because I miss him and I haven't seen him in a couple of weeks. Or perhaps I'll be alone still and hating the snow.

I changed my profile info and changed my layout. There's the makings of a future blog post, see if you can spot it. Or not, because it's recently come to my attention that I'm far too boring for some people to care about (some of you don't count, it's ok).

EDIT: Er, not "don't count" in the sense that I don't care about you. I do. It's a "it's ok, I know you care, so therefore you don't count in that statement..." er...I should go to bed, or LotR my brains out.

You are dead to me, Oregon.

Mon, 22 Dec 2008 22:27:21 GMT

What the fuck happened? We used to be pals. We used to be bffs. We braided each other's hair and told each other secrets and it felt like we belonged together.

You used to be cool. Now you're a fucking douche.

Now because you won't stop fucking snowing I'm goint to have the worst Christmas ever. Because Tim was supposed ot be here, YESTERDAY, you selfish fuck. And now IF (big fucking IF) he gets here tomorrow, we'll have a full 2 days to do everything I wanted to do while we're here. Fat fucking chance.

I thought I'd get to experience the best Christmas. I love Christmas with my dad's family. And plus there'd be a Tim and he'd get to meet everyone. Not now. I know he's not going to make it here. He's going to meet my dad at the wedding reception and I'm going to hate everything. This sucks so much. My heart is breaking.

And the worst part? I feel angry at Tim for it all because he didn't want to come and now he gets to have Christmas with his family. Good for him. AndI get to sit here miserable and angry.

Oy

Thu, 18 Dec 2008 19:40:54 GMT

Waiting for my flight. I'm feeling quite better. I guess that woman might be right. In that case, I am horribly allergic to something in the house, which I wasn't before. And the allergy doesn't go away with Clariton and it manifests differently than my usual allergies, which are all headache pain and sinus pain. Dare I say...it might be bad for my health to be at her house? Muahahaha.

(Oh yeah, I hate flying...and I miss Tim).