meh. and songs.

I keep starting entries and not finishing them, because I don’t really know what to say. The problem with having something to say is that I live my job, and then I go to school, and I don’t really do a lot of other things. I don’t remember the last time I went to a movie theatre, I haven’t seen my parents or my sister in a couple weeks,

Thank G-d for this day off tomorrow. Not that I really have the day off, since one of my jobs decided that every time I have a day off, I have a meeting at Hillel, and that made me schedule work at Safe Ride as well, since I’d already be on campus. But just the fact that I got to take a nap this afternoon and not worry about when I had to wake up was absolutely brilliant. Now for a little piano practice, and then off to an excellent party. Tonight will be a good night.

I read a compilation of interviews in a book called Song, by editors of American Songwriter. I skipped quite a few, because the book is nearly 400 pages long, and after awhile I’m not too interested in country music, but there were many of them that were just fabulous. I’ve scarcely been writing lately, but songs are something that are coming a bit easier to me now. When I look at them again, I think that they’re probably not that good, but I probably shouldn’t second guess myself. A lot of songs look like they suck if you just look at the lyrics, but somehow they work. And I may as well try them out. Next step, writing music. That’s the really hard part for me. And does anyone want to give me Garage Band lessons?

do you ever feel like

dear hannah,

where did you go? and who is in your place?

sincerely,

hannah

so.

I think I feel happy. I’m also terrified of school, because it’s actually kicking my ass like I never knew my ass could be kicked, and I don’t know what to do about that, because school has never been that for me. I should be happy for the challenge, but flailing through neuroscience isn’t really a challenge the way a hard piece of literature is.

But aside from that, I think I like where my life is headed for now. I feel a lot better about what’s on my plate, and about people who are becoming more important in my life. It’s like I’m calming down.

it’s been too long without some angst

i want love to love me back
i want two way conversations
i want love to love me back
one that can handle any situation
i want love to love me back

I adore Mandy Moore. And I just feel like echoing that sentiment today. Leaving choir today, some off-hand comment led to me saying, “Boys don’t like me,” which is generally true, to which Catherine replied, “Oh, they do,” to which I replied, “No, they use me and abuse me,” which is largely true as well, so Catherine said, “But they like you for that,” and then I said, “I’m just a toy for boys.”

A wholly uninteresting story, I know.

I don’t quite adore school this semester, though that’s mostly because I’ve gotten used to not having to do work, and this semester is going to be nothing but reading, researching, or going to work. Once again, I have three jobs. I’m crazy, and I can’t quite figure out why, except that I seem to hate free time. I don’t know where I’ll find time to write or read books, but I’m trying. I also want to finish some songs and make recordings, at least Garage Band-y ones, so that I can feel good about that. It should get easier since I’ll be taking piano lessons again (!).

Now, if the weather could just cool off and if I could stop having morning asthma attacks while I bike…

(New playlist up!)

(500) days of summer

Indie for the masses.

I am going back and forth between whether I liked it or not. Some things were really cute. Like Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Expectations/Reality. But I’m just not sure it was a good movie. I never know whether movies are good anymore.

too many books

I’m moving on Saturday. Then I decided to go to Lake Tahoe on Sunday. So I need to be almost finished moving on Saturday, and then I’ll have about four days of work and moving to finish when I get back, before I leave for Georgia and my old lease runs out.

This wouldn’t be a problem, but I have a lot of crap. I’m a very material person, not because I particularly love shopping and labels or anything, but because I can’t bear to part with books or essays I wrote in English in seventh grade or 3D glasses or a keychain or anything. It’s very bad. I also have a limited amount of boxes. I just packed up all the books I own, textbooks aside. Eight boxes of books. I now have three cardboard boxes left for the rest of my stuff.

I managed to decide to get rid of six books that are not worth having on my shelf. This is really huge for me.

These boxes are going to be impossibly heavy. Then, I’m going to throw them on the floor of my new bedroom, hope that at least three of my four bookshelves fit in my bedroom along with my bed, desk, dresser, nightstand, record player, record table, and possibly my piano. Then I will return to my soon-to-be-former house and pack up clothing, toiletries, kitchen things, tchotchkes, and other stuff. AKA I am going to have to get rid of a lot of stuff and learn to live small. Bleccch.

But G-d, moving sucks so much. Always avoid it.

battlefield

Everybody talks to themselves….right?

This is the last thing I would ever want to sound assertive about, because it’s a quality in myself that terrifies me and makes me feel very uncool, because I often find myself walking and thinking, and then I realize that as I’m passing all these people on campus or wherever, my lips are moving. It’s entirely embarrassing, but then again, it could be one of those things like how nobody but me notices that my nostrils are crooked. So is it?

The reason I ask you, empty Internetlandia, is because I find myself having really insistent conversations tonight. I cannot keep my head in my book, partly because I was listening to music, and when you listen to music and read, it should be music you’ve heard before, not a newly downloaded album. I also partly can’t keep my head in the book because it’s The Journals of Sylvia Plath, and it’s a very exhausting read that will take me about a hundred years, because I usually only manage about 10 pages per sitting. But I also just can’t concentrate on reading because I keep thinking about conversations I’d like to be having or things I’d explain to people or whatever it is that is unimportant but that I think about. It’s like I’m absolutely desperate for conversation.

I haven’t exactly been Suzie Social since I got home on Wednesday, but I’ve certainly had contact with other humans since being home, so can I really be starved for company? I don’t even like company; I’m always thinking about how I love being alone or with a small group of people. But it’s summer, and it’s maybe a bit unnerving that I don’t know who is available to be my human company if I want it. I like being sort of lonely and out of touch with people during the summer, but that feeling has dwindled slightly since college threw me and all my relationships with people out of whack. Maybe it’s that I just spent six weeks doing one of those magical summery things, but it didn’t feel as magical as some summers. It felt many other positive and negative things, but it didn’t really feel like summer. Then again, I was in the southern hemisphere, so in a technical way, it wasn’t summer.

But I’ve grown accustomed to (that’s not quite the verb I wanted, but the Spanish verb “soler” doesn’t really have a good English equivalent…”be in the habit of” doesn’t have a very nice ring to it) pairing summer experiences with great, long conversations, and I haven’t had one of those in a long time. My, do I miss my Fridays. And writing camp. And cherubs. And knowing where I am. This is very off-putting, because I do not know what I’m supposed to be doing. That also means that I am doing a lot of reading and I am feeling compelled to write, and I’m actually writing, so it’s not really a bad thing so much as just a necessary discomfort for a good thing. However, it would be nice to occasionally spice my old maid lifestyle up with some good conversation and chai or something.

bah, humbug

Everything about this winter break seems so stressful. I’ve forgotten how to take care of myself. I have to take care of everyone else, and there’s no one to complain to because anyone I could complain to has some condition that I should be sensitive to.

Falling back into angst is not what I like to do. I just feel like another entry here is overdue, and I don’t have the energy to be creative. And that is another way that I’m not doing well this break. I’ve forgotten how to start writing, even when I have ideas or I’m excited about something.

G-d I miss my novel. I almost have it back. If I can just figure out how to unlock these half corrupted files that the hard drive recovery man gave me from my shot computer hard drive. I’m so close. When going through them, I found two files that were in the same folder. Now I just need the actual novel. I had so many chapters. I just can’t start from the beginning.

On the bright side, Megan McCafferty and I are Facebook friends, and she messaged me because I said I was excited to meet her at the Tucson Festival of Books. Hurrah for writers! They are the best.

i just wanna write

I just want it to be 3am Wednesday so that we can know for sure what’s going on. Am I moving to Canada? Is Obama assassinated? Or is all well?

I’m still not writing much. I don’t know why that is, aside from the general I’m way too busy all the time and at the moment I have a cold reasons. I feel like writing poetry, of course, since I’m in the middle of the semester in which I’m taking a fiction class. Must it always work like that? I have a conference with my fiction TA tomorrow; I’m sure he will tell me that my latest story is pretty crappy, which is kind of true. I couldn’t handle writing a brand new one, and the two I’m working on wouldn’t be finished in time for the due date, so I took a vignette I wrote about two years ago for a book that I thought was maybe good-ish, edited it, had Eric look over it and edit it again, and then I handed it in. I mean, it’s not terrible. But I could do better if I tried. Bah.

another meme

I can’t concentrate on real entries right now. Here’s a meme I stole from Holly.

Go to http://www.urbandictionary.com and type in your answer to each question in the search box, then write the FIRST definition it gives you.

1.) Your name:Hannah
a girl with class, grace, poise and elegance.

2.) Your age:20
Bag of Weed, costs $20.00 dollars and is enough to make 4 fat joints.

3.) One of your friends:Tracy
1.) The unisex name Tracy \t-ra-cy\ is pronounced TRAY-see. It is of Irish Gaelic origin,one meaning is warlike. Another originating as a nickname for Theresa “late summer”

2.) A term referring to one who has many contradicting qualities, characteristics or traits usually in an EITHER/OR basis ie; Nice, cruel, Stubborn, Compliant, Sparkly, Dark, Social, isolated, Wishful, hopeless, innocent, sinful, naieve, cunning, proud, ashamed, determined, indifferent, generous, glutton, giving, selfish, trustworthy, dishonest, good, evil etc

3.) One who some would say posesses the cognitive, social, logical skills of a 5 year old– think about this: 5 year olds are pretty much masters of all those areas and more so than adults the majority of the time!!!
Cheer up buttercup it wasn’t your fault. Come out of the house, stand out in a crowd, Not like you knew that would happen you’re the sweetest girl I know…. Oh! you did….well they deserved it and funny how they came to you for advice about what you had caused!! Pretty calculating and yet executed with integrity and class although somewhat evil it was flawless and very kind of you to offer a bandaid for the wound so to speak. That was a 10 point tracy girl!

4.) What should you be doing? Calling the doctor
Someone who puts up with an ever more impatient public demanding quick fixes for innocuous conditions while facing scrutiny from those who judge service, cost-accountability, and adherence to legal definitions of medicine.

5.) Your favourite colour: purple
Extremely potent marijuana, specifically marijuana buds that have a purple hue to them. Also accompanied by a fragant, usually fruity smell and mad perma-grin.

6.) Your birthplace: Tucson
-A city of almost 500,000 people, half of them Mexicans and/or homeless.
-Always tons of traffic because there are no freeways.
-If you don’t have a car, you’ll literally die of boredom.
-A 99 cent store at every corner
-A place where I thought only University of Arizona students moved to, because no one else in their right mind should otherwise.
-On the bright side, with low humidity levels (30% and down), the weather kicks ass.

A place in Arizona that serves one purpose; to educate the young people that decide to spend four years in a city 3 degrees cooler than hell. Of course, Wildcat Football is heating up!
Hey let’s go watch UCLA lose in Tucson at Homecoming again.

7.) Last person you talked to: Sara
A person who is very hot and has the greatest personality ever! In hebrew Sara means princess. There for you should treat her as if she was one! Sara is also a very irresistable person.

A special type of dance that is both sexual and orgasmic.
Fool, I was dancing sara all over that beezy last night!

8.) Last thing you had to drink: Water
The 4th element required to summon Captain Planet
EARTH
FIRE
WIND
WATER
HEART

GO PLANET!

By your powers combined, I am Captain Planet!

9.) Your nickname: Hanninha, Banana, Sarah Hannah
banana definition:
An asian person who acts like they are white. Yellow on the outside, white on the inside.
Quang doesn’t know what Dim Sum is? man that guy’s a Banana.