The Han

works for me.

2012-01-31T22:51:00.001-07:00

Words, words, words...trying to find good words...good words to string together in an eloquent fashion. But you see, I've been so very lost on words lately. Instead, here's a list of things I love:

Going home for the weekend and letting Kona sleep in the bed with me. The next morning, without fail, I will wake up laying completely perpendicular to the way you ought to sleep in the bed, squished between the wall, the headboard, and a black lump, with my feet hanging off the edge. I've illustrated it for you below (please, try not to envy my art skills). You might think it odd, strange, unconventional, or even inconvenient, but I don't, because golly gee, I love that dog.

My little sister getting her LDS mission call to Vladvidostok, Russia...after she tricked us into thinking she was going to Tulsa, Oklahoma.

I work with two of my best friends. In fact, I'm their supervisor. Our desks are situated in a semi-circle with our backs facing each other. Sometimes, I'll be stressed or tired, so I'll talk to Bobbi about it. When we're done talking, I'll turn to my computer...half a minute or so will pass as I go about my work, "You're still watching me, aren't you?" I'll ask her without turning around. "Yeeees," she'll admit, all embarrassed like, "I just wish I knew how to help you," she'll answer. Would you believe that's enough? How fortunate I am.

Kicking chunks of snow-ice as you walk, watching the chunk get smaller and smaller. It's not like you can stop kicking it, you're dedicated, you've got to see that chunk of snow-ice through to the end of the walk. Biggest chunk left at the end wins.

via:

Harm bought a Teaposy, or something or other. She made me sit and watch the flower unfurl. We watched...

and watched...

and watched...until finally, that beautiful looking flower yielded a disgusting elixir that is supposedly "good for you!"

But here's the thing: it's just another reason why I love my sister. She's an odd duck.

Membil Giveaway!

2012-01-30T22:12:00.000-07:00

Hey-lo! My sister, Harmony, is hosting a give away on her blog! Go here to enter to win this cute little Cottontail Bunny cotton holder.

Follow her on Pinterest here.

Visit her Etsy shop here, for more cute things like this:

All proceeds from her Etsy shop go toward Harmony and Derek's Adoption Fund!

wings.

2012-01-27T13:55:00.002-07:00

“If we listened to our intellect we’d never have a love affair. We’d never have a friendship. We’d never go in business because we’d be cynical: "It’s gonna go wrong.” Or “She’s going to hurt me.” Or “I’ve had a couple of bad love affairs, so therefore…” Well, that’s nonsense. You’re going to miss life. You’ve got to jump off the cliff all the time and build your wings on the way down.”

-Ray Bradbury

.

2012-01-22T14:08:00.002-07:00

White, bright, clean and clear. Lovely day.

She Did

2012-01-19T01:00:00.001-07:00

She'd putter around the garden and yard all morning long. When it was announced that it was time to go inside for lunch, it would take another ten minutes to walk from the garden to the house because she'd see something on the lawn - a dandelion, no doubt - and would stoop down and dig it up. She hated dandelions. Then she'd see a branch that needed pruning, so she'd stand on her tip-toes and cut it with those tiny hand sheers she carried with her every where. She loved her trees and her plants, my Gram did.

Finally, we'd make it inside for lunch where she always fed us a delicious lunch. Except when she'd force feed us hominy -- definitely not a favorite, which she knew, but insisted that it was good for us. As tradition held, we'd have lunch over the Game Show Network until Matlock came on (1 pm on KJZZ 14). She loved Matlock, my Gram did.

Two o'clock would roll around and it was back outside to the grind. More work in the garden, more puttering around the yard in the heat of those summer days. After a few more hours of us complaining about the heat, we'd go back inside and relax for the rest of the afternoon until Mom came to pick us up. We took those lazy afternoons to watch the Disney Channel, a luxury for us, while Grandma cut beans for canning or shelled walnuts. She loved her walnut trees, my Gram did.

And then Mom would come. We'd say bye to her, each of us knowing we'd be back the next day, and the next day after that, and every day after that until summer's end and fall's begin brought the start of a new school year. Every summer day we'd spend with her, not realizing how special that time was. Because she loved us, my Grammy did, more than we ever knew.

This Year

2012-01-15T23:53:00.002-07:00

When I arrived in England three years ago, I did so with very few possessions. Clothes, mostly, and my lap top. I lived simply...I hardly bought anything because every thing was so expensive and the things I did buy were out of necessity: shampoo, soap, food, etc.

I didn't buy clothes. I didn't buy home decor. I didn't buy expensive phones....

I lived on only what I needed. I hadn't really realized that until just the past few weeks. Some of the stuff I boxed and stored away before I went to England are still boxed and stored away. I went without those things for so long that I forgot I had them.

Anyway, I want to get back to that. Been home almost three years and oh, how it's easy to get back to the excessive and the luxurious. So, I've been going through my stuff, slowly, bit by bit, and getting rid of what I don't need; what I haven't used in ages, what I haven't worn or read...Even my apartment is too much. It's too big. Neither I nor my roommates really use the living room. We keep to our rooms. We never use the powder room. We don't even have a kitchen table -- that's how little time we spend in the kitchen. We cook and eat at the bar.

I want to go back to the days where I lived on only what I needed. Heck, I lived for almost two months in various hostels around Europe with ONLY what I could carry on my back: two, maybe three, pairs of pants, a pair of shoes, five or six shirts, toiletries and the unmentionables. Didn't even have a lap top with me a lot of the time -- internet cafes are a beautiful thing.

Good crap. I lived in hostels and carried what I needed on my back. Everything I have now seems so excessive.

One thing has stuck, though: after having spent so may nights in hostels, sharing rooms with a dozen (or more) stranger, with the snoring, and the loud talking, and people waking up at 3 am to catch a flight, or people coming in at 3 am from a night now -- when traveling now, I could care less where I stay. I went on a business trip back in September and stayed in some apparently shady hotels. I didn't care or notice because as long as it had a bed and running water, I was good. My boss apologized to me for the poor hotels, but good grief, I didn't even notice. A hotel room to myself with a queen size bed and cable? That's like staying at the Ritz.

And so, this year: live on less -- back to the basics -- only the essentials. Be free again; don't have to be living in Europe to do that. Stop worrying so much. It'll all come out in the wash. Trust and faith and do.

Snowdonia National Park, Northern Wales, February 2009

You're awesome....no, really.

2012-01-10T23:15:00.003-07:00

My family likes technology. Except my older sister. She loathes the iPhone, but is constantly playing with her husband's iPhone or mine. Sometimes we'll be talking about apps or other technology and she'll blurt out -- "OH MY GOSH. BORED!" or "OH MY GOSH, I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW NERDY THIS IS." The other night, she informed us she is going to make a print that says, "Help me, I'm being nerded," and hang it in the house.

But, MY HOW THE TABLES HAVE TURNED. She lost her archaic phone recently and her husband gave her no choice but to use his old iPhone. She is so distressed that she is an iPhone owner now. I mean, I never thought anyone would be so upset to get a free iPhone, but she is. Maybe now we won't have to listen to her complain about being "nerded". Maybe she'll learn to love the iPhone. It's inevitable.

Likewise, my mom isn't a technology person...she can use technologyjust fine, but she doesn't want an iPhone. Funnily enough, she too is always playing on my phone. Hm. My, my, my.

I think this technology thing stems from my father, who is soooort of a huge computer/technology nerd. The man has like 3 computers and like 18 eReaders and probably like 7 back-up iPhones. Okay, that's an exaggeration, but I'm just trying to give some background. Love you, Papa!

Anyways, the other day, after backing up my phone, I reset it to the factory settings because it was doing some funky stuff. Then, I could clean it out and restore it from the back up. No problem, right? Oh, ho.

Prepare to be nerded. Actually, this story isn't so much about the technology as it is about my mother.

So, I recently got a new laptop. I had recently backed up my phone on both the new and old lap top. But apparently the back up failed and I didn't realize this. So, there I am, freaking out that I just lost all my contacts and photos. Forget about the contacts, all I cared about were the photos. The camera on my phone is better than most point and shoots, so I take a looooot of photos with it.

Picture, if you will, me sitting at the bar in our basement with both lap tops sitting on the counter. I've got an extremely large external hard drive (it's old, so it's ginormo) plugged into one lap top and my phone plugged into the other. I'm moving files around like mad because the hard drive on the old lap top is full and I need space for the back up/restore. Meanwhile, the new lap top has two hard drives and, for the life of me, I can't figure it out. So, I'm moving program files around on the new lap top trying to create space--or, you know, otherwise known as breaking things.

Meanwhile, my family is sitting on the couch watching SATURDAY'S WARRIOR for the sole reason of laughing at it (a story for another time). Things keep breaking and the phone won't restore from the back up and I am periodically hitting my head on the counter (kinda, sorta literally) while intermittently singing along with my family to Saturday's Warrior..."I've got my father and mother, sister and broooother..."

After hours -- HOURS -- of working on getting my phone restored, I turned to my mom and sister, who were on the couch talking after the movie concluded. My mom asked if I got it figured out and informed me that I am just like my father, with the two lap tops, and the hard drive and the iPhone. Harmony, again, said something about being nerded, or how nerdy the talk is--

Oh, before I finish the story, I should explain my mother a bit. My mom is calm, level headed, the "normal one", not usually sarcastic like myself, but still has a fantastic sense of humor. She also never makes fun at the expense of others and just loves everyone.

Okay, so after she asked me if I got it figured out, I launch into a long, complicated and "nerdy" answer, which I shall abridge for you now:

"Welllllll, sort of. Before I backed the phone up....but hard drive was full....lost my contacts, but it's really the pictures I care about...new lap top has two hard drive....Dad said it's SSD something, don't know what that means....lost pictures...so sad, Mama...old lap top has correct back up, but it's two months old.....will have lost all info on phone from the last two months....

"...but all I really care about are pictures....luckily.....new lap top, turned on iCloud for a bit....photos were on Photo Stream, but deleted them....luckily, they were still in Recycle Bin....added them back to My Pictures....moved program files around....MOM, I broke my new lap top.....can't even browse internet....

"...but at least I have pictures from those two months......need to back up files....not enough room on hard drive.....but have contacts and partial back up better than none."

After probably five to ten minutes, I finished my tale of woe while my mother and sister sat listening....or were at least pretending to listen. Folks, I was STRESSED. I had been working on this for a few hours and suffered defeat time and time again, when finally, I came out in a partial victory.

After a few seconds of silence, my mom looks at me with this look of disbelief at what she had just been subjected to listen to...or disbelief at how nerdy her daughter is...or disbelief at how much her daughter is like her father...it was just, a look of disbelief. I think in those moments of disbelief she was TRYING to muster the desire to care about everything I had just told her. She almost always humors me, like all good mothers do. After a moment, her dropped jaw turned into a slight grin, and then she offered the most loving, encouraging and congratulatory words a mother could provide:

"You're awesome."

Words dripping with sarcasm, I tell you. SHE MADE FUN OF ME! HA!! My mother does not make fun of people, especially when they are under genuine distress, and she is certainly never sarcastic when someone is so upset. That tactic is usually used by my sisters and I, but it was HILARIOUS because I was SERIOUSLY stressed out and she thought it was sooo amusing. It's like when your kids are toddlers or preschool age and they get so mad because their alphabet soup has numbers in it or something. And they get so upset they fold their arms and cry and it takes every fiber of your being to not laugh at them, all the while you VIDEO RECORD them to be used to embarrass them during their teenage years.

Well, yes, that is me..except I'm not four, I'm twenty-four. And it's funny because I wonder how much my mother chuckles to herself when I'm being extremely naive and irrational. It's an experienced, knowing chuckle of a much wiser person who is just letting their offspring learn for them self. But sometimes, you just gotta laugh.

~~But I fixed my phone, and my lap top. So who's laughing now?~~

That's a lie. I only partially fixed both, but I'm awesome. My mom told me so.

Corner Office

2012-01-04T23:00:00.001-07:00

There is an obscene amount of drafts full of half sentences and partial thoughts saved on this blog. Never posted, never completed. I've lost my voice somewhat these past few months, not sure how or why or when...but, I do know one thing: this photo is perfect.

The set up is what I want in my room more than anything. A chair with a view out a window -- a window at the perfect height to look down on the people bustling about below, or to look up, up, up at the sky and the stars. There must be a book -- in fact, there will be many books -- hot chocolate, a candle for ambiance, a blanket, and hopefully someday a dog.

I've been on the hunt for the perfect arm chair with no luck. There is a corner in my room next to the window I have been reserving for a happy situation such as the one pictured above. A situation where I can curl up with a book on those dark days of winter or lounge with my feet up on those sunny summer days. I'll find it, that chair, and it'll go in that quiet corner. It will be the corner office of my evenings.

The peace and tranquility of such a set up is likely a metaphor for my state of mind. Yes, it's true, my mind has been in a dither these last few months and has been too preoccupied to realize just how much it needs some peace and quiet...to be still for just a bit. And it might be true that I have not been writing here much because a) I've been busy and b) it's a form of avoidance. Though I do love writing, it's been quite difficult lately. The avoidance from writing is much like how I avoid, at all costs, looking at photos from my travels. Dramatic, I know, but if I give myself time and brain power to look and remember those times, I find myself getting sad and, if given too much time, longing to be back there.

Not healthy to live in the past. So, I'm looking forward. The 2012 shall be about doing. It shall be about proactivity and setting goals. I've already got some things in the works...we'll see how they go. Last year was so much about reacting to and learning from things I couldn't control; I learned a lot, but it was exhausting. So now I'm going to, in the words of Thoreau, live the life I've imagined.

How's that for an obligatory and typical New Year's post?

photo via

Rain

2012-01-02T23:21:00.001-07:00

This weather is so incredibly appealing to me right now and I have no idea why. Maybe because it's warmer than it is here, or maybe because I fancy carrying an umbrella and wearing a scarf and rain boots, but whenever I see rain in the forecast in England, I immediately long to be there.

Three Things

2011-12-28T16:51:00.001-07:00

Christmas felt different this year...I don't know how or why, just different.

I went to the cemetery on Christmas Day...went to say hello to my Gram. Usually, when I visit I'm the only one there. If there are others in the cemetery, they are a long way off, which is good because then talking out loud to my dead grandparents doesn't feel quite so weird.

I'm healing, I am. It'll be four months on Friday...and I'm healing. If I take the time to think about it, I don't know if it's at the pace I'd like, but I know I'm gonna be fine. I've never been one to adjust quickly to change that causes such emotional strife as this, but these type of changes/losses bring growth and eternal insight. Like this time, when I went to the cemetery, I wasn't alone. There were a number of people scattered across the grounds, arms around each other talking quietly and looking down at the ground. It was then that I realized three things:

1. This will not be the last time I lose someone I love. Duh, I know, but I really thought about it this time and it was a little overwhelming.

2. I'm not alone. I felt a strange sort of connection/camaraderie with the other people in the cemetery that day knowing that there are others who feel the same.

3. It's bearable, endurable and part His Plan.

And so, that was Christmas. It truly did feel different, but it was also full of lovely things like family and friends and love and joy and Disneyland adventure.

Packing.

2011-12-14T23:16:00.002-07:00

Usually, I love packing. I am a packing pro. Daughter of a military man/pilot man, so it comes naturally.

Am hating packing right now. BUT, guess what I'm packing for? Yes, yes, yes: DISNEYLAND!

TRA LA LAAAAAA! (I imagine some sort of triumphant horn playing in the background) Am so excited, I may vomit. Not really. But at this point, I think I'm more excited to be away from work for a week more than I am excited that I'm going to Disneyland...wait. Nope. That's not true. I'm definitely more excited about D-land...but I am also super excited to have a break from work. A gal's gotta breathe and have some fun every now and then. These last few months -- okay, this entire season, has been probably one of the most difficult, so I'm super excited to be going out of town for the soul purpose of having fun.

So, I get this text from my mom while I'm packing tonight. She knows me so well:

"Don't bring 1000s of books. We'll be a little squished."

To which I responded:

"MA. I never bring too many books. I only have...two. And a BoM*. And journal. And logic puzzle book. And Ensign...oh. Hm. Fine."

But she's gotta admit, that's better than the 12** books I took on the road trip to Iowa. Of which I only read one. She's right, it will be squishy. There will be five of us. Five, jollily packed into a sedan for 12 hours. Just me and the fam for some Christmas celebration fun.

Can you guys hear that? It's the freedom bells ringing! Nooooo work for a week! Nooooo snow and sub-freezing temps for a week! Am a Disneyland Vet who hasn't been in a while***. Sun and t-shirts and Dole Pineapple Whips await!

*Book of Mormon
**Not an exaggeration. Mom was not thrilled. Said it weighed the car down.
***My "a while" is likely not as long as you would think.

Quilts

2011-12-12T22:10:00.000-07:00

Tonight, while the twins, Julia and I were squished on the bed watching Scooby Doo:

Bradley: Hannah, remember Grandma Oka died?

Me: Yeah, buddy, I remember.

Bradley: Does that make you sad?

Me: Yeah, it makes me sad.

Laney: Why does it make you sad?

Me: It makes me sad 'cause I miss her.

Laney: I wish she coulda made me a blanket.

Me: Yeah, she made lots of blankets. Do you guys miss Grandma, too?

Bradley: Yeah. And when we go to her house she isn't there. So we call it Mitsie's house.

Laney: Yeah, but we can still call it Grandma's house, too.

Sigh. Oh, to be young and free and innocent...

Gram, I didn't know the twins knew of your fame for making quilts. It pleases me. Love you, alligator!

Whither the Wind Blows

2011-12-02T23:30:00.002-07:00

Yep. We got the wind. Our 50-foot tree fell.
  Check this out. We're at about 2:50.
 

 
The  Mama left for work at 6 am after the tree had already fallen. She did  not even notice it (I've still yet to figure out how she missed a  50-foot tree laying on the front lawn).
 That was on Wednesday night/Thursday morning.
Our  neighborhood (and our street, especially) got hit particularly bad. The  park by my old elementary school lost about a dozen trees.

Our next door neighbors lost six trees. Pretty much every fence that wasn't chain link is gone. A few other's had trees on their house or through their roof. And that's just to name a few. Check out these photos to see more.

I  wasn't around when this happened, but I got live updates from my sister  and mom...but I'm here now. The neighborhood (and the rest of the  county) is sort of in shambles. It's going to be a busy, active and  noisy couple of days with all the chain saws and nail guns at work. 

But then, today The Papa had this genius idea.

Can you guess it?

*
.
..
...
....
.....
......
..

 
Oh, YES WE DID.

Well, my sister and the dogs did, I was not around.

(Yes, the dog is wearing a sweater. It's winter, and he's still just a puppy.)
 

Sorry for all the pictures of Harmony, but they tell the story so well. And yes, I know, she is an adorable tiny human.

Everyone who drove past stared and took pictures of this festive event...maybe we'll make it on the news!

I think this just makes good sense...our real Christmas tree in the front window can't be seen anymore... 

So, in the words of my dad, "Might as well make lemonade out of the lemons."

And we really did. Harm was going for a "Christmas threw up here" sort of look.

Our neighbors and people in the ward drive by, see it, and chuckle to themselves, as if to say, "Yep, that's about right."

Because it's something only we would do.

Lemons, my friends, LEMONS...

and now lemonade. 

PS - We totally made it on the news today!

Don't For Future Reference

2011-11-30T21:56:00.000-07:00

My big sis has these two books...they are strategically placed, I'm sure for her husband. 

photo via

Anywho, I spent a good deal of time reading "Don'ts for Wives" this weekend. I'm not a wife yet, but hey, I can always prepare and learn now. Some of my favorites:

"Don't lose heart when life seems hard. Look forward to the corner you are bound to turn soon, and point it out to your husband."

"Don't be discontented and think your husband not 'manly' because he happens to be short and thing, and not very strong. Manliness is not a purely physical quality."

"Don't expect to know your husband inside and out within a month of marriage. For a long time you will be making discoveries; file them for future reference."

"Don't put on airs with your husband. If you can't be natural with you, you shouldn't have married him."

"Don't keep your sweetest smiles and your best manners for outsiders; let your husband come first."

Wrangle

2011-11-29T23:31:00.002-07:00

Adorable, right? They are just the best of friends.

Someday soon I'll be able to have my own dog. Most of my holiday weekend was spent reading and cuddling with Kona. Then I gave Bowser a bath because, "He's just a puppy, that's just how puppies smell," is no longer a valid excuse. Even puppies stink and need to be bathed. Have you ever tried to wrangle an 80-pound, 10-month old puppy into a bath tub? Yeah. It was a challenge. But now he smells nice and no longer offends the nose.

And that is all. That's all I have to say. One paragraph about dogs because I'm a super interesting person.

Han, out.

Grateful

2011-11-24T13:59:00.003-07:00

"There are things you do because they feel right & they may make no sense & they may make no money & it may be the real reason we are here: to love each other & to eat each other's cooking & say it was good." -source

Grateful today (and always) for:

The Gospel
Family.
Kona.
Friends.
Fond memories both recent and not so recent. Of times and people now gone and of far off distant places.
A roof over my head.
A job in this uncertain world.

Even though life is constantly changing, I'm grateful the essentials stay the same. Happy Thanksgiving.

Work Sister

2011-11-21T16:57:00.002-07:00

Working with family is a challenge...except when you need someone to cry to...or just to play an occasional prank on.

Swoon

2011-11-13T00:17:00.001-07:00

I saw "An Affair to Remember" for the first time this weekend and swooned through its entirety. Why did it take me 24 years to see this film? And how did it take me so long to realize the suave dapperness of Cary Grant? The man is simply lovely.

I'm going to have to watch "Sleepless in Seattle" because now I'll understand what they are talking about...which will then probably lead me to watch "You've Got Mail" and a whole bunch of other romantic comedies. And I'm perfectly fine with that.

I just added probably a dozen old classics to my Netflix queue...oooh, Hollywood isn't what it used to be.

And now, I'm cuddled up next to The Kona, who doesn't seem to care much for things such as Cary Grant. She ought to, though, because every female should.

To Gram, Love Your Urusai

2011-11-06T21:38:00.001-07:00

Hi Grammy,

Been a rough go of it lately. Just trying to stay afloat.

And I miss you.

Lots of change lately and a lot more on the horizon. Am I handling it? Yes, I'm handling it. Not well, but I'm handling it. Change has never been my forte. Change is the opposite of my forte...it's my bane. Oh, is it ever my bane. But, I'm working on it. And I'm on the look out. For what? For anything and everything. Or at least I'm trying...I'm trying to keep my eyes level with the horizon rather than fearfully lowered to the ground. Is it possible to keep them up but still be terrified and just wanting to bail? Cause that's about where I am.

Anyway, we had stew and bread sticks today. Mits makes it just like you did...delicious. You'd always make stew and bread sticks for me on my birthday, even though you didn't really like it. I've only just realized the bigger picture that represents. Things aren't the same without you. Some days I still expect to see you when I walk into the living room, but then I remember...so I tend to avoid it altogether. There. That's my little confessional. I'm still avoiding coping with this. That, and I haven't really had time to cope yet.

The sisters are slowly making their way through the house. If we want something, we're supposed to make a prioritized list. I can't think of anything that I want. I feel like there's something wrong with that. Everyone has something they'd like to have, but I can't think of anything. What does that mean? It's frustrating me.

Did I tell you I got an orchid about a month ago and it's still alive? I haven't killed it yet, Gram! It's in really good shape and every time I see it, it makes me happy because it reminds me of you. Also, I could really use some help on what to do with my life...I'm at a total loss and I wish I could talk to you right now.

But, I'm trying to avoid the dark and twisties...I'm really trying for bright and shiny...so if anything, I could use some help with that, for tomorrow is the start of a new week. And to quote Brian Andreas:

If you hold on to the handle, she said, it's easier to maintain the illusion of control. But it's more fun if you just let the wind carry you.

Miss you. Love you.

See you later, alligator.

Love,
#1 urusai

blocked.

2011-10-30T23:29:00.000-06:00

Blocked.

Brain blocked. Writer's block. Embarrassing number of drafts begun and never finished. Mind has been in far off places...

Can't get Oxford off the mind. Been a dream for as long as I can remember. It has found its way off the dust covered shelves of my brain and is now sitting on the mantel.

Fall. Love fall. Love the colors and smells. Can't get England in the fall off the mind. Been there in winter, spring and summer...but want to see the rolling hills and hedgerows draped in autumn colors.

Oh yes, the brain is finding ways to be far, far away.

24.

2011-10-24T21:22:00.001-06:00

24.

Good grief. 24 on the 24th. My golden birthday. My 23rd year of life was chock full of change, loss, growth, ups, downs, sadness and happiness. I've held to the belief that 21 was the best year of my life, and it was a great year. I saw the world, I gained experience, I learned a lot about myself. But this last year? Man alive, I can't even convey how huge it's been. The people I've met and grown close to, the ones I've lost, the lessons I've learned...what a tender mercy this last year has been! Shouldn't every year be better than the last, no matter how hard? The harder it is, the more chance we have to grow and the better we become.

A friend and very wise person said it best:

"Hannah, reflect on the difference a year makes. Change and losses are compensated by growth and eternal insights...Hold to the Rod, steady the course and continue watching for His light in your life."

24. It's gonna be a good one. I can feel it in my bones. I'm going to serve others more and myself less. I'm going to progress. I'm going be invested in the business of life. I'm going to love. Oh yes, love. I'm going to love with reckless abandonment and without fear that it might not work out. Because what if it does work out?

I'm going to fear change less and remember that the other side of change makes us all the better...something I've learned only this past week. I'm going to do more than just survive. I'm going to camp and fish more. I'm going to to take The Kona on more walks and not kick her out when she's hogging the bed. She's getting old and I love her so dearly.

I'm going to magnify my callings and cultivate my talents. I'm going to write more. I'm going to over-analyze less. I'm going to read more. Far too many books on my shelves have gone unread. They deserve better.

I'm going to forget about what the world deems so important. I'm going to make Him the center of my life and I'm not going to be afraid to stand up for what I believe in.

24. Yeah, it's gonna be a good one.

Membil Giveaway Links

2011-10-23T21:58:00.001-06:00

My big/little sis is the creative type, unlike myself. She makes things. All sorts of things. Now, she's giving it away. Click here to enter to win a giveaway!

Click here to visit her shop.

Click here to follow her on Pinterest.

Oh, her name is Harmony. I call her the Short, Sassy, Spunky One...the Tiny Human...the Big/Little Sister. She is five-feet-nothin' and can somehow beat up our six-foot-somethin' brother. She has, on occasion, karate chopped her husband and believes it a victory. He most likely lets her win.

Anyway, go to those links above.

Double Smiley Man

2011-10-19T22:03:00.001-06:00

A two-day conversation wherein Mom wordlessly tells me, "Don't worry, it will all be okay. Double Smiley Man says so."

Trust

2011-10-16T21:35:00.000-06:00

You know those cataclysmic life events that have your mind yearning to think about anything besides? My mind, it feels, has been reeling for months and I'm beginning to wonder what I used to think about before Life Event #1, 2, or 522. Maybe I thought about things like what type of cereal to buy or counting down the days until superficial thing number one or two.

Have you ever had those times in life? Times where you'll do anything to keep your mind off of whatever has been completely occupying it? And I mean anything? Like watching half of a season of a TV show about a zombie apocalypse? And when you're done, you mind goes back to where it was; from rational to irrational to holy crap and all over again?

This last year of my life has been huge and, for the life of me, I can't remember what I used to worry about before it. Be it, "When is the next time I'll go to England?" or the internal struggles of whether to skip a class or not.

Now, it's about life and death, school and career, this or that...It's difficult, interesting, exciting, suspenseful, trying and has a sense of independence about it. But mostly, it's a test and I trust that it will all work out.

Ramen Board (mobile edition)

2011-10-11T20:55:00.001-06:00

So, I like to keep quotes on my phone of funny things that people say. Most people don't know I do such a thing, but it is why life is so enjoyable and why I love the people in it. Without further adieu, The Ramen Board [mobile edition]:

"He can grow a neard that connects with his chest hair."
"A what?"
"A neard -- neck beard."

"I'll stay here so you don't have to look at my body."

"They call it the Mantua itch."

"So, let's start chronologically."
"He was born."

"I should have known better than to let you drive with strong emotions!"

"Oh, honey, I forgot to grab your sunglasses."
"That's okay, I have sunken eyes anyway."

"Hannah, you could learn to crochet."
"No, thanks."
"Then we would have something to talk about!"

"Don't be offended, but....you aaaare...a bit...unusual."

"Yeah, but I'm funny and awkward in a way that is cool."

"Mein Vater es loco."
"Did you just say a sentence in two different languages?"
"Oui."

"Why did you bring so much stuff?"
"Are you kidding me?! My crochet bag can double as a pillow!"

"He brushes his teeth like a rhinoceros."
"What kind of analogy is that? How does a rhinoceros brush its teeth?"

"Poor The Kona and her anal glands."

"I'll show him...I'll be laughing all the way to the temple."

"I have a video of a bomb going off by me."
"Was that scary?"
"Yeah...it was a bomb."

"I have to tell you something before I sleep at your house..."

"Yeah, come to Logan! We can visit our old stomping grounds!"
"The dollar store, you mean?"
"Precisely."

"I briefly had a friend this summer....[pause]"
"Oh?"
"...who liked to do stuff and be active all the time. That friendship did not last long."

Of The Han...

2011-10-05T22:33:00.003-06:00

"Hannah, please turn around. Turn around and look at those five items piled on your desk. I feel those five items sum you up perfectly."

I was at work when I had to empty my bag and spill the contents that reside therein onto on my desk. These are the contents of my bag every day. The book changes as I finish it, but there's always a book. And yes, I guess I am one of those girls with the oversized bag, but I've gotten to the point where it's bag or no bag. Transfer everything from my work bag to a purse? Too strenuous. It's either bag or credit card and ID in the pocket. And yes, I do love logic puzzles. And yes, I am clearly more like 80 years old than I am my own age. And the little black pouch looking thing? The home of my Tweakers.

Next, I took this photo to tell a story -- two stories, actually. The first is that we have begun picking the fruit from the trees at my Grandma's. I know I've written a lot of about my Grandmother lately, but it's strange, nostalgic, and a tender mercy how much more everything means to you when someone has gone. And while this pear is not perfectly shaped, it was the most delicious one I have ever tasted.

This picture tells a second story: glittery, pink nails. Yes, I, Hannah. Nails. The legit kind. On all ten fingers.

Also, I'm eleven days sober from Diet Coke. Yes, I know, amazing. I made a deal with my ~~boss~~ (he doesn't like that word, says it's a "four letter word") colleague that as long as I don't have Diet Coke, he can't have Mountain Dew. It's as much for his benefit as mine. And I shall prevail. I will win this bet of sorts, the prize/punishment of which has not been determined.

This means I have been drinking a lot of water...which brings me to a last and final confession: sometimes I buy Evian bottled water because I like the colors. They are aesthetically pleasing to me. That, my friends, is successful marketing.

Current Reads

2011-10-03T23:38:00.002-06:00

Have I ever mentioned that I love books? Yes, I believe I have. Several million times.

At any given time, I'm reading a myriad of different books. I've got Book A.D.D., it's true. Currently, there is a particularily large stack of books on my night stand that includes:

Good to Great by Jim Collins - just getting started, I hear it really is great
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë - always reading this book, even if just a snippet at a time
Risen by Britney Jensen - a new read, stay tuned...
Gospel Principles - gotta have it
The Scriptures - necessary and always on top
A Short History of the French Revolution by Popkin - for a class...those Frenchies are crazy
The Great Cat Massacre by Robert Darnton - second time through, crazy history nerd
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen - confession: have yet to make it all the way through
North and South by Elizabeth Gaskel - just another beloved story
Plato Republic - another new read and definitely a trial

What are you reading?

Fall Traditions

2011-09-27T21:31:00.000-06:00

Hi Grammy,

It's fall. The leaves have already begun changing and you can smell it in the air. The tree branches are starting to droop under the weight of the fruit. The nashi tree is full and should probably be thinned...years of doing it alongside with you has taught us well. Don't worry, we'll keep Jan away from it.

We picked the plums this weekend...they are sweet and the ones that fell to the ground squished under our feet when we weren't watching where we were stepping. The apple trees, too, have come on...we'll make pie filling, I'm sure. And the ones that fell from the tree early or that the worms got to? Yep, we'll play baseball with them, just like we always do.

We've picked all the berries. Don't worry, we didn't miss the ones underneath because standing on our heads is second nature now. Only thing is that more berries probably went into our bellies than into our buckets...but I'm sure you're not surprised by that.

We've harvested the corn and tomatoes...we've pulled up the soy bean plants and picked off the pods. I made some and took them to work to share. It pleased me greatly when I realized that's what you would have done. No one's home grown soy beans are better than yours, Gram.

Vegetable Olympics will be coming up soon...mud football to follow. We bottled tomatoes a little while back. Grammy, I told Harmony that if you were here you'd scold her for not cutting them to the right size. I mean, they were just ridiculously large! Mits did a lot of beans, too. No canned or factory bottled greens could ever rival yours.

The hibiscuses bloomed and are now gone for the season. They remind me of you, the hibiscuses do. They are bright and beautiful and full of life.

The walnuts need just a little more time...they're starting to fall. And the pecan tree is huuuge! I swear it grew ten times as big this year and there are so many pecans on it! We'll climb those trees soon and shake the branches until all the nuts come down. We'll wear buckets on our heads for protection as we run around trying to catch the falling nuts. We'll clean and crack and harvest those nuts...perhaps not as diligently as you did, but we'll try our best.

Your trees and garden will be going to sleep for the winter soon...and then in no time they'll be blooming again. That, I think, is an analogy for a greater Plan. And oh, how one's soul sings at the thought of it.

I miss you, Gram. See you later, alligator.

Love,
Hannah

Gun Powder vs. Glitter

2011-09-26T09:04:00.001-06:00

This weekend I did probably
the manliest thing I've ever done...

And the girliest thing I've ever done.

(The Han doesn't do girly.)

My brother made my sisters and I
learn how to shoot a gun.

Then, I learned how to do nails.

Like, legit acrylic nails. With glitter.

We discovered I'm a pretty good shot.

"Sniper" is how my real Army sniper

brother put it.

Then we discovered I'm too much of
a perfectionist to learn new hobbies.

First, it was a pistol. My dad's old pistol.

I shot the crap out of that Coke can.

Then, the Glitter. Oh, the glitter.

"Glitter is the herpes of the craft world."

The BB Gun was next.
That homemade target got demolished.

I only did one of my nails.

For some reason, it was the middle finger.

Strictly unintentional.

I feel like I should have identity crisis now.

The normal kind. Not the gender kind.

I feel like these two extremes are an

analogy for my life right now.

However, I rather enjoyed both activities.

They're activities, not hobbies...

I also feel like this post is going to end abrubtly,
With no solid conclu--

Happiness Comes in Many Forms

2011-09-20T21:44:00.003-06:00

Yes, it does.

Longevity

2011-09-15T18:27:00.001-06:00

I kept this carnation from the day of my Grandmother's funeral, which was two weeks ago. It has lasted unusually long...

My Grams had the biggest and greenest thumb. She was famous for being able to make anything grow and could nurse anything back to life. I feel a strange sense of peace and comfort having this one flower, in all it's longevity...just like my Grandma.

Vegas Highlights

2011-09-14T23:25:00.000-06:00

Went to Vegas this weekend for a family reunion. Yes, a FAMILY reunion. In Las Vegas. Sin City. Yes. Us. A bunch of Mormons. Thing is, my mom and her sisters are the only LDS ones on this side of the family. So, it would make sense that Vegas sounds fun for everyone else. Anyway, highlights include:

My cousins renting a top floor, corner suite at Mandalay Bay.

My sisters, brother-in-law and I crashing said suite. Which basically amounts to eating their peanuts, drinking their water, and using their showers. They also told us to do those things...soooo, it wasn't really crashing, but we had to do something Vegas-esque, right?

"Sober fun!"

Witnessing a scary guy kick and punch the crap out of a wimpy guy in the middle of an intersection. It went down like this: Wimpy Guy cuts off Scary Guy with his mini-van on The Strip. They yell at each other out their windows. Wimpy Guy throws a drink at Scary Guy's car. Big mistake. Scary Guy gets out of car and takes off his shirt. He is muscly. Poor Wimpy Guy. Wimpy Guy gets in Scary Suy's face. Bigger mistake. Scary Guy punches Wimpy Guy's face, throws him to the ground and proceeds to punch him in the head and kick him everywhere else. Light turns green. Scary Guy hops in car and speeds away...shirtless. Meanwhile, Wimpy Guy, bleeding, staggers back to van and tries to pretend it's no big deal. We gawk, drive on and talk about it for the next 10 minutes.

A stray drunk who followed out of a hotel elevator and invited himself into the suite. He proceeded to talk loudly, play with one of the babies, wandered around and check out the suite, all before anyone could realize he didn't belong (not Japanese).

80 mph speed limit in central Utah.

The buffet. Buffets only ever seem like a good idea before you eat them. After, you simply want to die and lapse into a food coma.

Riding the New York, New York roller coaster and being totally unimpressed.

M&M Factory. Stupid. It's a 4-floor building dedicated solely to a candy.

And finally, this photo:

Reminders

2011-09-12T22:21:00.000-06:00

Gram,

I've manage to keep the flower alive that I kept from that day of days. Impressive, I know, because it's been almost two weeks. I don't have a green thumb like you did...I can't make everything grow and thrive and I certaintly can't revive something once it appears to be beyond all help (I just threw away a sego lily and daisy planter). But I've kept it alive, that carnation, and I think I shall be sad when it finally goes. It's purple. Purple reminds me of you. It reminds me of that sweater you made that you wore all the time...that funny purple and green and blue sweater.

We went to Vegas this weekend. I played a penny (or two) in the slots for you, just like I told you I would. I didn't win anything, of course. The house always wins. Gambling reminds me of you...is that weird? Cause you really didn't gamble that much. One of my fondest memories is when we'd go to California every summer and stop by Buffalo Bills...my sisters and I would ride the roller coaster and you and Mits would play the penny slots. Then we'd get ice cream from Häagen-Dazs and continue on our way to California. Every summer. Oh, how I loved it...I loved going to California with you.

Grams, I haven't been to California/Disneyland this year for the first time in like ten years. I'm feeling a little lost and a little sad because of it. I could use some time at the Happiest Place on Earth. Disneyland reminds me of you...specifically, because of this photo:

I never thought you would have ever worn that hat, but when you got it, you put it right on your head and it stayed there the whole day. When I think of Disneyland, I think of California Adventure...I think of when you went on California Screamin' with us at the age of 85. Man alive, you were adventurous.

At the family reunion this weekend, everyone talked about how you were the adventurous one. Of your six brothers and sisters, you were the brave, bold and courageous one who went skydiving at the age of 77, who traveled alone through the States at the age of 24 during WWII (a young, Japanese girl, post-Pearl Harbor). You were brave...good grief, you were brave.

I think that's where my sisters and I get our sense of adventure and independence from. I'm pretty certain I got my love of traveling from you. I'll never forget the day I left for England, how you told me, "I wish I could go with you." I'll never forget that. You told me you didn't want any souvenirs. You told me all you wanted were postcards. So I sent them. I came home and you still had them hanging up...

Mom gave me a bit a scratch paper she found that you had written a recipe on in red ink. And in black ink on the same paper, I had written my name and then just below it, "Hi." Either I was really young when I wrote it or I was writing upside, because it is pretty awful. Whenever I'm bored and start doodling my name over and over, I think of you. For some reason, whenever I was at your house is when I would choose to doodle and "practice my signature", or in your words, "waste paper."

You'd tell me, "You must really like your name because you're wasting a lot of paper for as much as you're writing it." So, whenever I mindlessly scribble my name, I think of you and I smile.

So many things remind me of you, Grammy. You were such a huge part of my life, what would I have done without you? I am who I am because of you. I miss you so much.

Love you,
Hannah

Listen.

2011-09-08T20:33:00.001-06:00

So, I went into the mountains today for some alone time. It was much needed. For the past few days, all I could think about was a sunny, quiet, high mountain place where I could sit, read my scriptures, write in my journal and just...exist.

Well, today I drove up the canyon and found a lovely spot high in the mountains next to a river, above where the aspen and evergreen tree lines gradually blend from one to another. I laid out a blanket, sat down and breathed in the fresh air. That's when I noticed a rather inviting piece of sun-bathed grass across the river. Queue internal dialogue:

I want to go to there.

No, you don't. It's across the river.

But it's so sunny and I want to go to there. The river isn't that fast and it's shallow in this part.

By now, I had put my phone and keys in my pocket, wrapped my scriptures, journal and logic puzzle book (don't laugh) tightly in the blanket and stepped into the water. It was clear and I could see the riverbed, so it couldn't be that deep, right? Ha. Indeed.

This is a bad idea. You're being stupid.

I'm fully aware that crossing a river in flip flops is not smart, but I'll be FINE.

No, you won't.

Yes, I will be. It's not that deep and it's not that fast, I'll be fine.

No, you really won't be. You're being stupid.

No, I'm not being stupid, I'm fully aware that this is not the smartest thing to be doing, trust me, I am. I'm just being stubborn. I will BE FINE!

Oy.

I carefully started across the river, death grip on my blanket-wrapped belongings. The rocks were slippery and the trackless flip flops didn't help. I took an uneven step and the flip flop popped off my right foot, "CRAP!!" I hollered as I lunged for it. No luck, it floated on down the river. They were my favorite flip flops, too...and you can only find them in California, ugh.

I told you so.

Shut up. I'll be fine.

NO, YOU WON'T BE. You're only wearing ONE SHOE and it's a FLIP FLOP!

You're right. This would be easier without it.

So, I took off the remaining flip flop and tossed it down the river.

You idiot.

Shut it. Now I can go the rest of the way. I'll be fine.

No, you should probably turn back.

But I'm halfway there already--

Which means that you still have to cross it to get back to your car if you even manage to make it to the other side in the first place. And now you have NO SHOES.

I'm fine. I just want to sit over there, it looks warm.

Then I started hearing my Grandma's voice...queue new internal dialogue:

You're gonna fall. You're clumsy.

Gram, I'll be fine. I've spent a lot of time in the mountains.

But you're alone. And you don't have shoes on. And you're standing knee-high in the middle of a cold river with your scriptures and journal and phone. Think of how sad you'd be if you lost your scriptures and journal. And if you lost your keys, you wouldn't be able to drive out. And if you lost your phone and fell and got hurt? Then you wouldn't even be able to call for help.

I know, but I won't fall. Plus, there's a road not too far from here, I can walk if I need help. I'll be fine.

I took another step forward and slipped, almost falling down.

Okay, just a misstep. I'll be fine.

No, my child. You should think about turning around. Is it worth getting hurt and losing those precious things wrapped in that blanket?

Probably not.

Turn around and go back, Hannah...

So I did. As I turned around, I checked the blanket-package to make sure everything was okay...it wasn't. Or at least it wouldn't have been okay if I hadn't stopped. You see, a flap of the blanket had come loose and my scriptures and journal were starting to slip out the bottom.

I gave up on my head-strong, independent, stubborn self and listened to the spirit as it gently told me in my Grandmother's voice to just think about it for a second...would it have been worth it? No, because when I made it back to shore, I found a lovely spot and was able to relax and be at peace...

"All will be well. Don't ask me how, but only time will tell."

quote.

This Day of Days

2011-09-03T21:41:00.002-06:00

Hi Gram,

We had corn and soy beans from your garden today. Hal had his watermelon, of course. A pleasantly appropriate choice for this day of days, don't you think?

We did what Oka's do best on this day of days: ate food and talked. We told stories and laughed and reminisced about all the things you said or did in your wonderful life. About how happy your reunion with Art and Grandpa must have been...about how you would have reacted to Harmony's crazy hair...about how you are surely up there shaking your crooked finger at us for making such a fuss. But we did make a fuss and you probably are shaking that crooked finger at us...but it's all good.

We took a photo of "the nine" on the steps, because the sisters wanted it...and then the sisters were soooo distressed because we nine were missing and everyone was ready to eat. HA! Perfect for this day of days, don't you think? We barely fit on those steps. Either the steps are shrinking or......you know, I don't even want to think of the other reason why we couldn't fit. It's probably because of all the berries that went in our bellies instead of the bucket.

It was strange, this day of days, sort of like a dream...like it wasn't happening, but it was, you know? Hali said to me as we drove that old familiar route, "It doesn't really seem real, that we're going where we're going, does it?" Nope, it didn't and it still doesn't.

It was strange, this day of days, but we did so many of the same things we did when you were here: we shucked corn and picked soy beans from your garden...Hal sliced his watermelon...the kids ran a muck and naught but Scooby Doo could subdue them...we packed as many people onto one bed as possible...we wandered around until we could find a tiny piece of floor or couch to lay on...

We're keeping alive the traditions and life lessons you taught us, Grammy. It is so much a part of us that we don't know any different.

It was strange, this day of days, because you weren't here. But, it's comforting to know where you are...a place so much lovelier and beautiful than here; a place where you can walk and run and crack walnuts and puzzle and pick beans and weed the garden until your heart's content. And you're there with Grandpa. And you're there with Him. How much lovelier could a thought like that be on this day of days?

See you later, alligator. I miss you.

Love,
Hannah

In a while, Crocodile...

2011-08-30T13:07:00.001-06:00

I'll be seein' you later, alligator.

In a while, crocodile.

I love you, Grammy! I'll miss you.

1920-2011

yes, indeed.

2011-08-29T21:09:00.003-06:00

this is the part in life where i try
to make sense of "it".

yes, it.

"it" is many things.

i said in my last post that

i'm not much for words lately.

still true of now.

mostly 'cause i just don't

know how to put it into words.

not yet, at least.

my friend, meg, summed it up when she said:

"Stealing a few minutes to sit on the floor next to the

speakers, enjoy an amazing playlist, and just...exist."

yep. that is perfect.

it speaks to me (as corny as that sounds).

yes, indeed.

as of late, according to my iPhone

2011-08-27T22:49:00.005-06:00

Life, as of late? Meh. Not much to say. Alright, there's a lot to say, just don't plan on saying it. So instead, a photo purge from my iPhone with minimal commentary.  

Minneapolis Airport.

Grandpa's windmill.

Driving privileges of Grandpa's old Caprice.

Culver's of Mason City, IA. Deeeelish. 

Headband or hot pad? Either way, DIY by Harm. 

Little ol' truck finally ticked to 100,000 miles...only took it 28 years to do so. (Yes, I did drive slowly down the side of the road just for this photo.)

Lazy day lounging on the Quad with Elizabeth. 

Play date with Julia and the twins at the park. Only one injury sustained. 

Attempted photo with a two-year-old and two five-year-olds. Clearly, it went well.

 Camping with the siblings and a tired Kona.

Blackberries, homegrown at Gram's house.

Grandma's house proudly boasts crops of red raspberries, white raspberries, blackberries, boysenberries, strawberries, and black caps.

Harvesting Grandma's garden...the makings of fresh salsa. Yum.

And the little lady, herself (circa 2005).

all photos taken with Instagram for iPhone.

life.

2011-08-26T17:08:00.005-06:00

"One’s life...cannot be both faith-filled and stress-free...Therefore, how can you and I really expect to glide naively through life, as if to say, “Lord, give me experience, but not grief, not sorrow, not pain, not opposition, not betrayal, and certainly not to be forsaken. Keep from me, Lord, all those experiences which made Thee what Thou art! Then let me come and dwell with Thee and fully share Thy joy!”

-Neal A. Maxwell

quote via

Healthy Addiction

2011-08-17T23:08:00.007-06:00

Confession: I have, what I believe to be, a very healthy addiction. To books. Go figure. I'm my father's daughter. He loves books, too.

Anywho, for the last few months, I have been lusting after these:

The Penguin Hardcover Classics. They cost a pretty penny, to be sure, which makes the obsession that much more painful. My father has the old Classics Club set with basically every great book ever written. When I was a kid, I would stand there at the bookshelf and look them over. I'd grab one, ask to read it (sometimes), and quickly find that a book such as A Tale of Two Cities was too much to be endured for a third grader (or anyone, for that matter). I'd never finish books such as these and forget I had them in my possession. Inevitably, my father would come looking for the missing book that now left an empty space among the thirty other or so.

But, I digress.

The collection above...they are just so pretty, are they not? I want them all, even if I haven't read them all. The worst part of this obsession? I work at a place where such inventory is plentiful. So, this week I bought Jane Eyre and Pride and Prejudice, two favorites.

You guys, I LOVE Jane Eyre. So much. I can't believe it, but it has beat out The Killer Angels as my favorite book.

Soooo, I just had to rearrange my entire bookshelf to fit in the new ones...they are in alphabetical order by author, of course. As are my movies...oh, it's such a challenge when I get a new movie. Everything must be re-done. People, it just makes sense to alphabetize one's belongings. Things are just so much more sensible and thus more easily found.

I just love books. A Nook or a Kindle will never replace the romance of holding a book in your hands or turning that last page to The End.

Mini-Me

2011-08-17T17:29:00.001-06:00

HA! My friend posted this on Pinterest and tagged me, saying, "Hannah, mini-you!" It's true, of course. And freaking adorable.

photo on Pinterest, found here

Left, Right, Lyrics

2011-08-10T22:25:00.008-06:00

Have to wake up at 4 am tomorrow.
Should be sleeping.
Should finish packing before I sleep.
But for some reason, out of nowhere....I'm just not.
...not doing either of those things.

If all goes as planned, my whole
family will be together this weekend.
Huzzah.

I love my family.

So much.

It might not go as planned.

It's possible that none of us will get on the flights we need.

(We fly stand-by...hurrah for employee benefits.)

The uncertainty is sort of driving me nuts.

Also, I have this habit of trying to be in
control of everything.

Like work. When I'm not there.

It's fine, and I know that.

But I'm a control freak sometimes...

...okay, most of the time.

So here I go...

I'm letting it be.

"It" is everything, not just work.

La la la, mmmmhmm, la la.

(That was me singing the song.)

Lastly, I love The Avett Brothers.

I love their lyrics.

Quite possibly my favorite:

"Always remember there was nothing worth

sharing like the love that let us share our name."

and...

"When you're loved by someone, you're never

rejected. Decide what to be and go be it."

The end.

The Sass, the Wit, and that Iowan Stubborness

2011-08-08T22:43:00.001-06:00

So, I went to Iowa this last month to visit my Grandparents. It was such a lovely visit, and today, my Grandmother passed away. When we were there last month, her and I sat spent an afternoon together. Her health didn't permit her to leave the house, so we sat inside, watched the news, the Weather Channel and did logic puzzles. My favorite conversation of that day:

"Grandma, can I do one of your logic puzzle books?"

"Sure, you think you're smart enough?"

"My mom tells me I am, but we'll soon find out."

...about a half hour later, I closed the book and set it on the coffee table...

"You're giving up on your intelligence already?"

Ha. Such a sassy lady. I got to spend time with her, and that is what I'll cherish. That, and her cackling after she'd crack a joke about me.

lyrical title pending

2011-07-31T22:04:00.001-06:00

I'm not a girly-girl by any stretch of the imagination, but there's nothing quite like freshly painted toenails, so as to make one's feet a bit less unattractive.

Why "less unattractive" rather than "more attractive"? Well, because I don't, nor have I ever, had a particular proclivity toward feet. It's not that they are unattractive, I just think there are more agreeable human features than one's feet.

Feet. Yes, those are feet. Mine, along with those size 14's (ish) of my Grandpa's.

Ohhh, he's cute. Except, he recently informed us that he doesn't like to be called "cute". After which I asked my dad, "What are we supposed to call him then? Cause he is just cute."

"Call him handsome, manly, rugged."

"Hm. That's not really something you call your grandfather. That's something you call like, Harrison Ford in his 40's. I'll stick with cute."

Anyway, I had the most ordinary day yesterday. It was most excellent. I slept in, did laundry, went to the cinema, wore holey jeans, a t-shirt and flip-flops, and stayed up late reading. A normal day. How much it has been needed.

The Mama

2011-07-28T23:19:00.004-06:00

Late night phone conversations with The Mama are usually the result of sleep deprivation and/or PMS (sorry, it's just the truth). Tonight, she informed me of the following:

I am not, in fact, all-powerful. No background story necessary. I know that doesn't sound like the most uplifting piece of motherly advice, but actually, it was exactly what I needed to hear and oh, how it made me feel so much better.

and...

aaaaaand.....?

Errr...okay, so when I started this post, I thought there was going to be more than one thing on the list, but I'm so sleep deprived at this point that it is perfectly plausible for me to have already forgotten half of what I was going to write.

I am not certain of many things, but of this, I am:

The Mama is wise. The Mama knows me better than I know myself. The Mama deserves the best of everything in this world. The Mama is my Mama, and oh, how lucky am I?

PS - I would post a photo of me and The Mama, but for some reason every photo I have of us are just not flattering. Be advised, my Mama is adorable. 

I was just there...

2011-07-26T20:59:00.002-06:00

Shame it's such an expensive form of therapy, driving. If it wasn't, I would drive every road of every country in this world. In a continuing effort to be a more calm person, I found myself driving...again. No surprise. At least three times in the last week I have spontaneously hopped in the car and drove...and drove, and drove and drove. You ever had those times where you're so deep in thought that you could drive forever and you have to consciously tell yourself to stop and turn around, for you have gone much too far from home already?

Yes. That happens to me all the time. It's like when people dramatically say, "I just gotta dance it out." Well, for me, I just gotta drive it out. Turn the music up loud, roll the windows down and smell the fresh mountain air.

Today after work, I ended up at Bear Lake.

There is something to be said about standing high above a place, where all you can hear is the breeze before it even reaches you. Not being able to describe something with words...isn't that the best? When something is so indescribably lovely that there is no point trying to convey it to another?

On one of my stops today, I came across a hummingbird feeder at a scenic overlook...reminds me of my Dad. He loves hummingbirds. When I was a kid, he used to hang two or three in our back yard...and when we went camping? Fuggetaboutit. We never left home without a feeder.

And so, I drove some more. Seriously, sometimes I swear I could drive forever. I want to go to places where I'm continually frustrated that I can't capture it's beauty in one, or even ten, photographs. Wait, no...I want to see places where I know there is no point even trying to capture it in a photo. I want to stand in a place so amazing that it causes you to involuntarily close your eyes and just breathe it all in.

And then, in an instant, I want to be in a place with so much life, so much diversity... so much activity that all you can do is sit and observe. London comes to mind. People there are always walking, walking, walking, shopping, working...there is so much to London that a person could spend their entire life there and never fully know it.

But in the end, it's the mountains I love. A high evergreen forest with a lake...at dawn with the fish jumping and perhaps a deer trots out into a clearing across the way. The air. The air in the mountains is refreshing and clean...not only can you smell it, but you can hear it...even without feeling it. Perhaps that is why I love Scotland so much. As much as I love England, there will always be a special place in my heart for Scotland...the Highlands, for it has lakes and mountains like, but so unlike, those in Utah.

Can you picture it? Smell it? Hear it? I can. I was just there.

Altogether a Human Being

2011-07-19T23:27:00.005-06:00

Well. What can I say? Not feeling too funny right now. In fact, feeling the exact opposite. Blogging probably not a wise decision in light of previous statement. So this is me, trying to think happy thoughts. Me, wanting to not think about everything that I'm currently thinking about. Without further adieu, things I would rather be thinking about:

Harry Potter and how wonderful it would be to read all day instead of go to work.

England. Happy place. Happy place. Hedgerows and trains and rolling hills.

The Kona. She is so soft and cuddly. How can you resist when her eyes sparkle like an animé cartoon?

A mountain lake in the middle of a dense evergreen forest. Fresh air, a cool breeze, a fishing pole and a journal.

Disneyland. The only other place in the world that can rival England/Scotland in my book. A Dole Pineapple whip, New Orleans Square, and never wanting to leave, for there is a jovial and happy spirit at Disneyland like no other place.

Ah. That was actually rather therapeutic. I feel better now.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

'That Which I Love Best'

2011-07-14T00:40:00.000-06:00

Jane Eyre. Just finished for the first time. I read, marked, underlined, tabbed and loved the daylights out of it. 

Worn, well traveled, well studied and well loved...just like all good books ought to be.

Go Somewhere

2011-07-12T21:58:00.005-06:00

"It is a very strange sensation to inexperienced youth to feel itself quite alone in the world: cut adrift from every connection; uncertain whether the port to which it is bound can be reached, and prevented by many impediments from returning to that it has quitted. The charm of adventure sweetens that sensation, the glow of pride warms it..."

-Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

image

Regenerate with a Vengeance

2011-07-11T13:14:00.014-06:00

It's fine...it's fine...it's FINE that my sister is in England right now without me.

I guess it's not the "without me" part that bugs me, it's that I could just as easily use those undisclosed (and unbelievable) number of hours of leave and hop on a plane (for free). I could be in London this time Wednesday.

Sigh. It's fine, though.

But apparently, it's not. I had a person tell me that I say, "It's fine," an awful lot, especially when it really isn't fine. Oh well, this is me trying to grow up and really be okay with it. But, for the time being, it's just "fine".

It's the proverbial breath of fresh air I crave that nothing but England can provide. Which is lame, I know. I should be happy where I am, blah, blah, blah. But...England, traveling, living out of a backpack, hostels, running to catch a train, the rolling hills, the hedgerows...it regenerates me with a vengeance.

Whenever I am mad or frustrated, I do one of three things:

I cry.
I "straighten" the product on the shelves at work.
I go to my happy place. Which is here:

Chatsworth, Derbyshire, England, March 2009.

and here:

Leeds Castle, Kent, England, April 2009.

and here:

Leicester Botanical Gardens, Leicestershire, England, May 2009.

But, it's fine. Ever since my travels, I've adopted the philosophy that money should not be the object that must be overleapt to obtain adventure and seek distant lands. It shouldn't be, but it is. Besides, I'm supposed to be grown up now. I have a full-time job, I support myself financially, I haven't lived at home in years...so I ought to be responsible and not go gallivanting off to far distance lands...but that's what I want to do all the time.

It then comes down to what I could do and what I think I should or should not do. I could [easily] hop on a plane bound for the Atlantic. I (think I) should stay home and work, not spend money, save for other things like...life.

But then why should what I want to do be at the mercy of what I think I should do? Why can't they be the same?

Ah, blerg. First England post in a long time. Miss it horribly. Can't even find the gumption to write a proper conclusion.

Somewhere, SD...don'tcha know.

2011-07-07T18:26:00.003-06:00

Folks, have you ever been stranded in the middle of WYOMING? No? Well, I have. I would not recommend it. Actually, it is quite an amusing story, which I shall tell at another time. Let's just say it has to do with a blender (yes, a blender) and four different GPS's. For now, we are driving down the freeway somewhere on the middle of South Dakota.

Spent a portion of the day here:

Photos taken using Instagram on my iPhone.

Quite enjoyable.

I am on the road to Mason City, Iowa to visit my grandparents...I don't think I ever mentioned our actual destination. Anyway, this trip is supposed to take something like 17 hours if you drive straight through. We're taking the 1.5 day route.

So many amusing things have happened thus far and I am keeping record of hilarious quotes said so far, unbeknownst to my family. Just have to share one from today by a stranger at the Mount Rushmore gift shop:

"It's a book about how to identify animals by their SCAT, so it's really interesting. Do you want it?"

I can only assume she was a grandmother talking to her grandson. She was dead serious about the scat.

We are on hour 16 with about seven to go. When my mom informed us how much time we have left, she and I said simultaneously:

"I'll get us there faster."
"Hannah will get us there faster."*

And it's true. My turn to drive is coming up. Ciao.

*Edit: HA! There may or may not have been consequences to this.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

That's the Plan: Rule the World

2011-07-05T21:25:00.003-06:00

A few quick things:

Dropped some chocolate on my chair at work last week. After many attempts to clean it with products including a tissue, paper towel, air duster, Tide to go Stick and mini robot desk vacuum, it looks worse than it began. I now have a poop chair. Yes, this is my life.

Is it just me, or did the 4th of July seem to really drag out this year? Don't get me wrong, I love America, but people started doing fireworks four days before and by the time the actual holiday rolled around, I was like, "No thank you, I do not want to stare at fireworks anymore unless it is 9:25 pm in Anaheim, CA and I'm sitting somewhere on Mainstreet, USA, wanting to cry because Disneyland and their fireworks are so amazing."

Little sister is going to England next week. I'm trying to tell myself it's okay she's going without me (even though she sort of un-invited me), but it's not okay. Sigh. Miss it. My friend tells me that it is healthy for me. I don't have to go every year and I don't have to go just because someone else is...but I think I do. Anyway, I shall be sending with a list of things with her to bring back and she'll do it because she feels guilty for inviting me to go with her and then ditching me for a friend.

Had a serious nerd binge about Swamp People today at work, wherein I tried to convince several co-workers of its pure amazingness. Not even embarrassed. I love those hillbillies.

Tomorrow, the family and I shall embark on a cross-country road trip to the land of corn and soy bean fields. Yes folks, we are driving to fabulous Iowa. More to come.

I bought some frozen strawberries so I could ice your bruising knees...

2011-06-21T19:40:00.019-06:00

I struggle. It's true. And so, a chronicle of my recent life struggles:

I like mowing the lawn. Always have. There is something to be said about the satisfaction one enjoys after a haggard piece of grass has been manicured into an even, green bed of earth. Also, the mindlessness of it while listening to music is very therapeutic. When I was a kid, my brother and sisters and I would walk behind my dad as he mowed the lawn. We would step in his footprints, making sure he went in straight lines and didn't miss any spots. Aw, I had OCD tendencies, even back then.

Combine all this with my love of driving and....

Hooray! My grandmother's house sits on the top of a hill on an acre of land that includes a large garden, two orchards, a pond and many, many, many, many trees. It takes an hour and a half to two hours to mow the entire yard due to the plethora of trees and other obstacles. Luckily, she has a riding lawn mower, which makes things a little more entertaining. It's kind of like Super Mario Kart, weaving in and out of obstacles (trees and certain dogs that will not move out of the way) and trying to avoid little bombs (sprinkler heads that did not retract into the ground).

I usually prepare myself well...

I should probably be embarrassed by this photo, but I'm really, really not, because this is me. And I'm good with me. Anyway, music? Check. Orange bandana? Check. Grandma's gardening hat? Check. Farmer tan? Double check. I am a serious mower.

This weekend, there I was...mowing the lawn, like so many other times. I was happily driving along, singing loudly with the music, as I approached a tree. You see where this is going, don't you?

Before I go any further, there is something you should understand about this particular riding lawn mower. The accelerator is the opposite of how the accelerator in a car functions. On this machine, to accelerate you ease up on the pedal, and to break, you press down on the pedal. Oh, and all this with your left foot. Also, this sucker has six speeds and I'm pretty sure it gets close to 25 mph.

So, there I was, approaching a tree, about to break, disengage the blade, throw it in reverse and back up around the telephone pole that was behind me, all while avoiding my car and the 1930-something antique truck parked in the car port next to said tree. I'm not exactly sure what happened, but the lawn mower kept going forward rather than going in reverse. All the sudden it came to a very abrupt stop and I? Well, I did not stop. I went flying forward, face into the pine tree. Several injuries were sustained. Many bruises, scratches in precarious places, and I'm pretty sure I pulled my gluteus maximus. Bah.

The lawn mower was somehow stuck up on a block and after freeing it, I carefully put the mower in reverse and...went no where. My aunt came out of the house to see why I was not going anywhere. Well, because I put it in neutral rather than reverse. Oy. I explained to her how the tree and I became friends and then oh so carefully backed up around the telephone pole.

The way the yard is laid out and the route I take means that I never really see what I had just mowed. I resumed my speed demon like mowing for about ten minutes before realizing I had not engaged the blade. Sigh, I had to do half the front yard over again...while in PAIN.

I don't know why I was struggling this time, because I have mowed this lawn many times, but good crap! About a half hour later, my aunt came running down the hill making some sort of weird hand gesture before I realized I had done it again: driving around without the blade engaged. Sigh.

You think that's the end of it? There is a tree I have so endearingly named Sir Plum Tree del Guillotine. Have you ever almost been decapitated?

Yes, well I have. Basically, I did not limbo low enough and my face got stuck on the branch while the lawn mower took my body forward and I could not reach far each to press on the brake.

See that house across the street? Well, an elderly couple lives there and I swear the only time I see them out is when I am mowing the lawn. They bring out their lawn chairs and sit on the drive way watching me. I guess my life struggles are amusing to more than just myself.

This has been Life Struggles with Hannah. Tune in next time to we hear how Hannah went through all the stages of grief in about 5 seconds because of a missing burrito.*

*Three letters explain this: P, M and S.

Hurray for Fathers!

2011-06-18T23:40:00.003-06:00

Some things I have in common with my dad (which is a lot), some cool things just about him, and also, a little bit of bragging:

Me and my pops have matching camera bags. His is double the size of mine, but they are the same. It's like mini-me. Precious. My dad is an extremely talented photographer who has taught me a lot and is always encouraging my talents. Below is some of his work, but you can click here to see more.

My favorite! He waited an hour and a half for this shot.

Official photog for The People Now, based in Seattle.

Garth of The People Now.

When I was younger, I remember my dad tromping through the house, turning off all the lights we had left on and shutting the kitchen cupboards we left open. I find myself doing the same thing in my apartment with my roommates, usually while thinking, "Whhhhhy am I paying for electricity that no one is using?!"

He will watch Harry Potter with me. 'Nuff said.

I have a strong belief that because he has spent most of his life driving in the sky (he is a pilot), it has compromised his driving skills on the roads (love you, Papa!). But it's okay, because I'm not a good driver either, as demonstrated here, but especially here.

I know a lot of random historical facts, but he knows a lot of ~~historical~~ facts. Like, A LOT of facts. He's the smartest person I know. In fact, he's a certified genius. If I have a question about technology, history, politics...well, anything really, then I ask him. I honestly believe he could beat Ken Jennings in a game of Jeopardy.

Remember how I talk fast? Well, he talks twice as fast as me. And so, when we converse, any listeners may as well throw in the towel because it's like someone hit the x15 speed on the conversation. Anyone outside our immediate family probably wouldn't be able to keep up, even those who claim they are veterans of the so called "Hannah Speak".

Everything a place, everything in its place. Specifically, all the model planes he owns, a couple of which I have managed to break...that was a baaaaad day for the whole family. But, he has the model planes for good reason, because he has actually flown all of them. This is where I brag, because not only is he a certified genius, he is also a certified bad-a** (I don't swear, but it just seemed like the appropriate phrase to convey the awesomeness):

He was Top Gun...yes, the Top Gun, like Tom Cruise, only in real life. He flew this plane:

F-16

He was also one of the very first to fly this thing:
F-117 Stealth Fighter
In addition, he has flown about a dozen other types of military an commercial planes and helicopters.

And so in conclusion, my dad is awesome, he does awesome things and I love him VERY, VERY much. He is a smart, driven, sensitive, creative and insightful.

Hurray for Father's Day! I love you, Papa!

Letters of the Smallish Nature

2011-06-15T08:47:00.001-06:00

Dear Kona,

Thanks for abandoning me when I started throwing up in the middle of the night. Real nice.

Dear Weather,

Thanks for staying rainy and cool. I hate being hot and I am too cheap to turn on the AC.

Dear Crazy Little Sister,

Loved the text at one a.m. saying that not even one day into your trip you injured yourself and now have super glue holding a sizable chunk of your head together. Hope they closed it up before your brain fell out. (HA! That was clever of me. I thought that up on the SPOT.)

Dear Cel,

NYC is so very, very far away. Sigh...

Dear Sleep,

My old friend, where have you gone?

Dear LaDa,

Come to Logan. Be my friend. I have the sno cones.

Dear England,

I don't care what people think. I will continue to check the weather there every day. It's just always so perfect, I wish the weather was more like that here.

Dear Self,
Ugh.

Sometimes...

2011-06-13T19:00:00.006-06:00

Was just looking through some posts that I have started and never published. This one from September 27, 2010 was about the neighbor boy I grew up with that suddenly and unexpectedly died last fall. A bit depressing, this one is, but it's amazing to think how much I have learned and grown since writing this post. How much more peace! And the peace? It's all due to that little orange and white button over there that says "I Believe..." Click it. Go on...to the right and down the page a little bit. It will change your life.

I was going to write about how amusing it was to go out for sushi with my dad...amusing and horrifying as he defied all social norms by eating sushi with a fork. I was going to write about how funny it was when my sister randomly (and creepily) said, "Rachel (from Glee) is my girl crush."

I was probably going to talk about how much I work these days...about how, even though I now have a grown-up job, I still don't have money...about how all my friends have moved away...about how I never get to sleep in anymore...

And then life hits the proverbial fan and you realize that it could be worse. You could be the person who's brother, son, and husband just died...you could be the person who didn't get the chance to say goodbye. But I'm not that person, I never really have been (thank goodness)...and I just don't understand it. I haven't been exposed to death many times in my life...it's something that's lost on me. It's weird to think that this person, even if you haven't seen or talked to them in a while, is not out there in the world somewhere.

I just talked to his dad yesterday, asked him how everything was going. Everything was fantastic. His other son had just got engaged a few days ago...me and my siblings grew up with him and his siblings. We lived next door to each other most of our lives. And then just like that, his wife and his family's lives are changed forever. It's lost on me.

This wasn't meant to be a deep, profound, earth shattering post...I didn't intend it. It started as a rather eloquent and clever post about sushi, forks and Glee, but I couldn't quite find the gumption to write much more than what this post starts with. It turned into me trying to wrap my head around...well, death. I've had a few family members die, but I was not incredibly close to them. This one is a little more personal. I know the life after this one is great and we are all looking forward to it...but it still kind of sucks right now.

Sorry to be depressing, folks, but sometimes life just isn't that funny.

Encounters of the Third Kind

2011-06-02T22:22:00.005-06:00

On a business trip to Price, Utah, where...they are...a different kind. When we haven't been holed up in a conference room, we have been out on the town, taking advantage of everything this place of less than 10,000 has to offer. Namely, the singular bowling alley, where I bowled the highest score of my life: 105.

Please, try to contain your excitement.

The following phrases can be found in my Google search history: 'price utah sightseeing', 'price utah attractions', 'price utah population', 'price utah restaurants'. The sightseeing search yielded three results, one of which was a prehistoric museum. The other? A bar. Again, try to contain yourselves. I had to.

This evening, after an intense game of bowling, we stopped by a local gas station to fill up the car. Just as I put the hose in the car, a truck pulled up to the pump next to us and an older man stepped out. (Remember how I have a knack for attracting creepers? Recall my England creeper here and here.) All of the sudden, a head popped around the side of the pump and creepily asked, "Arrrre ya bein' a good girl tonight?"

"Umm, yeah, I am...?" I answered in a 'I'm trying to be pleasant' type of way.

"Oh good, cause you wouldn't want me to tell your mommy, would you?"

"Oh, no...ha ha..." I replied and willed the gas tank to fill faster. He turned back to his truck and I looked in the car at my friends/co-workers, my eyes pleading. They were staring straight ahead, smiling and trying not to laugh.

A few seconds later, the floating head reappeared around the pump, "I'd tell your mom and not your dad because yer probably Daddy's Little Girl, aren'tchya?"

"Haha...yeeeah," I said through gritted teeth and turned back to the car.

The next thing I knew he was standing WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY too close to me, so much so that I had to take a couple steps back. "Your daddy would probably tell me, 'Hey! Git away from my little girl!'"

Oooh my gosh! How do I get out of this, I thought, "Haha, yeah, he probably would," I said shakily.

"And you know what I'd say to yer dad?" he went on, "I'd say, 'You know why the economy is so bad? It's because of yer dad, Obama! Daddybama!'"

Is that a racist joke? I don't get it. "Oh, ha ha, that's...funny," I said, giving him a courtesy laugh, still horrified that the tank had not yet topped off. Finally, the gas was full and the creeper walked back around the pump. I all but leapt into the driver's seat of the car while frantically whispering, "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! Did you guys hear that?!"

"Yep, sure did," Ash said, "I took a picture of him....or his arm, at least."

"This place is crazy! They are weirdies! It's like Close Encounters of the Third Kind!"

We booked it back to the safety of our hotel where there is no running water and where we had a fair amount of pillow talk until a reasonable hour to go to bed. Ah, the high life.

Bonsai, Sisters, and a Cheap Date

2011-05-31T21:57:00.009-06:00

The recent haps in the life of The Han:

Had sushi with my friend, Melissa, this last week, after which we went for ice cream. She paid for my ice cream with a free token:

Melissa: Does this make me a cheap date?

Me: Uhhh, yep. I think so.

later...

Melissa: Is that your foot?

Me: Free food and footsy? You are a cheap date!

My older sister, Harmony (the short, spunky, sassy one) has gone a bit weirdy lately with her food choices. I don't remember the last time I went home and we had normal food. This weekend:

Me: Why have you gone weird? And how long is it going to last? I'm sick of waffles made with flax seed.

Harmony: With a name like Harmony it was going to happen sooner or later. Deal with it.

Me: Ugh.

later...

Me: Do we have any Otter Pops?

Harmony: No, do you want a spinach smoothie? It has fruit in it.

Me: Fruit and spinach? No thanks, I would like an Otter Pop.

Harmony: Let me make you a smoothie.

Derek: We have some Otter Pops in the freezer.

Me: Hurray!

Harmony: No! Let me make you a smoothie.

Me: Noooo. Harm, Otter Pops are delicious, they make the world go 'round.

Harmony: Yeah, round.

...delayed response...

Me: HA! That WAS funny! Very clever, good one.

Harmony: I know, I know. So let me make you a spinach smoothie.

Me: Nope, got an Otter Pop, I'm gonna go eat it with Kona.

Little sister, Hali (the long-haired exotic-looking one), was also home this weekend. I wanted to watch Swamp People (a story for another day), Harmony wanted to reupholster a couch, Derek wanted to do...something (probably a nerdy computer game), and Hali...well...

Hali: Coooooome outside and sit with me!

Harmony: How 'bout we do my couch!

Derek: Neither of those sound fun.

Hali: Buuuuuut it's nice outside. Anana, come outside with me.

Me: Meh...I want to cuddle with The Kona and watch Swamp People.

...a few minutes passed, Hali disappeared and the rest of us went about what we were previously doing.

Harmony: Where is Hali?

Me: I dunno...

...I went to the front room and looked out the window...

Hahaha. Of course, we laughed and took photos before joining her, it was just so cute and precious...gotta love the baby of the family. She was sooooo happy and wanted nothing more than to use her new hammock. Coincidentally, she was reading one of the crazy food books that Harmony has been reading.

And the reason I love my family? After sitting outside and talking for a while, Harmony did make us weird smoothies (which I fed to Kona), I helped her reupholster her couch, and then we watched Swamp People all together! Swamp People has become a recent obsession which I will explain in further detail at a later date.

The rest of the weekend was spent helping out in the yard and garden at G-Ma Oka's where I skillfully pruned her bonsai trees into practically perfect spheres. I wielded that electric pruner with great talent. Unfortunately, Grandma is getting up there in years and is no longer able to come outside. Such a shame that she was not there to kibitz that I missed a spot here or there like tradition holds. Or to tell me how lucky I am to have the miracle of electricity, because years ago she did this by hand with naught but some hand sheers.

And what about Kona, you ask? What did one of the most featured characters on this blog do with her weekend? The usual: laid around, went with us everywhere and watched us work.

I am so smart, s-m-r-t.

2011-05-30T21:11:00.081-06:00

Greetings from the Northern Utah Port of Entry. I coasted here from the freeway at a smooth 50 mph after even more smoothly running out of gas. I attest three reasons for this idiocy:

Reason 1: Little sister had the truck this weekend and left it with no gas. Yeah, yeah, I know. I already tried this one on my mom when I called for help, whereupon she promptly shot it down and said it's no one's fault but my own. True story and probably not even worth the try.

Reason 2: The truck does not have a low fuel warning light. I KNOW, it really is THAT old. Again, my mother would tell me it is no one's fault but my own, as per the following exchange:

Me: Mom, it doesn't have a fuel light!

Mom: It has a working fuel gauge, doesn't it?

Queue sheepish grin.

Reason 3: Biology, I blame biology and the migraines that cause me to overlook extraneous things such as the gasoline that fuels a car. I know, now I'm just trying too hard to not feel like such an idiot.

I do realize, like Mom said, that this is no one's fault but my own, but at least if I get stranded out here I have a hefty supply of survival tools, including (but not limited to):

Some CDs (but no CD playing device) - I could probably fashion some sort of jagged knife out of a broken CD.
Fresh tortillas - food, dur.
Toilet paper - you never know...
Cookies made by The Mama - again, food.
Paper and pencil - in case I need to scrawl my last will and testament if it becomes apparent I shall not live.
Matches - pyrotechnics, 'nuf said.

For the record, this is the first time I have ever ran out of gas in my life. And fantastically, it has started to rain. Have I mentioned that this truck leaks? Meaning, it has holes in various places and if it's raining and I'm driving...I get wet. I'm not complaining, I'm really not, I'm just amused at how often these sort of things happen to me. It makes life interesting, entertaining, and provides for good blog material.

Oh, The Mama has just arrived...I just gave her the biggest grin possible so as to stifle any potentially hostile feelings she might have toward me for making her drive a half hour to rescue me. She has a look on her face that only a mother can manage, it's a look that says so many different things, which I shall now detail below:

"You dingbat." (She says that a lot, it's so endearing.)
"I'm trying to look annoyed, but really, I'm amused because my daughter, the grinning idiot, is sitting alone on a deserted slab of cement next to the freeway. She ran the car until it had no gas but failed to turn off the headlights, so she probably killed the battery, too."
"Oy vey."

The look on her face reminds me of the end of the poem "Smart" by Shel Silverstein, one of my favorites. Sigh, what would I do without The Mama?

PS - Someone from Leicester (where I lived in England) visited my blooooooooooog! Hello, whoever you are!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

I'm Not That City

2011-05-29T15:00:00.008-06:00

"I'm not that city, Bobbi," I told her numerous times as I trudged through what I naively thought was mud in a white shirt and flats. Ha. Bobbi lives on a farm, and after returning home I realized the smell was emitting was probably not mud. Oh well, I'm not that city and I can handle a little cow feces.

The other day, I visited my friend Bobbi's farm for the first time. I'm pretty sure this was the first time I've ever visited an actual farm with a barn, cows, bales of hay and the like. I thoroughly enjoyed myself. We arrived and got out of the car, whereupon I immediately spotted the cutest ~~calf~~ baby cow (sounds more endearing) and started bee-boppin' toward it, "Oooooh, a baby cow! It's so cute, I want to pet it!"

Bobbi, on the other hand, was heading the opposite direction toward the house. She turned around and saw me all wide-eyed, "Hannah, there are a lot of calves, come inside first."

"But I wanna pet it."

"Just come here."

"Ugh. Fine."

After a moment inside the house, we returned back outside to where the furry, stinky, beefy balls of adorableness were. As luck would have it, Bobbi's dad was just about to feed the last calf a bottle and guess whooooooo got to do it?

Yeeeep.

This was just before the calf lost track of the bottle and mistook my leg for a milk dispensing device. I was thoroughly saturated with saliva and drool after that, but no worries, "I'm not that city, Bobbi."

After the baby cow, we took a stroll over to see the baby goats. I realize that baby goats = kids, but everything sounds so much cuter when you tack the word 'baby' onto it: baby cow, baby goat, baby wolverine, baby alligator.

Anyway, look how precious. This was just before it tried to eat the fake flower in my hair.

Huzzah, am now an experienced farm hand. Just as I was about to leave for the night, I was bequeathed some fresh chocolate milk and beef patties. Mmm, delicious. I thanked Bobbi and her family and as I drove away I felt the urge to shout, "I'M NOT THAT CITY!" one more time.

"A Life Well Lived"

2011-05-22T23:42:00.003-06:00

"A Life Well Lived", a photo by The Han Photography on Flickr.

Recently got a new lens for the ol' cam-er-aaa. Put it to good use with a little HDR photography (thanks to the Pops for teaching me a thing or two). This is a shot I got of the Merlin Olsen statue at Romney Stadium on the Utah State University campus just as the sun went behind some clouds.

Retaining My Dignity...and Straight Teeth

2011-05-21T18:05:00.009-06:00

A lot of times, I start writing a post and never get around to publishing it. I was just looking through all the drafts I have saved and came across this little gem. Please note that I gave up on the retainer shortly after writing this post. I believe I also started to draw an illustration of me wearing said retainer, because I came across this saved on my phone.

Yes, one eye and apparently something stuck in my teeth? Or is that a gap? Anyway, on to the original post:

We all have our vanities...one of mine just happens to be my practically perfect teeth. Or at least what used to be practically perfect teeth. Turns out you're supposed to wear your retainer for a reason. After several years of not wearing mine, I decided to have a go at it since my teeth have begun to move. At first, I tried just at night, but that didn't work because my teeth simply moved back during the day. A few days ago I started wearing it all day, every day. The following are reactions I have had from family and friends:
"Honey, you're twenty-three, not fifteen."

"Is there something wrong with your voice?"
"I'M WEARING MY RETAINER, ALRIGHT?!"
Also, the retainer caused me to have a...lisp, yes it's true. After several embarrassing experiences (mostly at work with professors unable to understand me), I decided to preface conversations with a disclaimer:
"Just so you know, I'm wearing my retainer, which is why I'm slurring my speech and lisping."

That was usually followed by laughter...at me, not with me. And there was possibly pointing, as well. Real cool, guys. That's almost as mature as me wearing a hot pink retainer I got when I was thirteen. The only reason I had/have a hot pink anything is because at thirteen I was trying to fit in with my super girly friends, when really, I hated pink, all Lisa Frank products, and only pretended to care that I wasn't allowed to wear make up until fourteen...or fifteen, or whatever it was. Ooooh, to be young and spry and an ~~awkward~~ tween again (strike-out of 'awkward' denotes that I am still awkward, some things never change)...

A year later, as history says, everything changed and I had to grow up a lot faster than most all my friends. I learned that there are more important things in life than hair and make up. I'm lucky to have learned at such a young age. If that were the only good lesson I learned from having to grow up so fast, then fine by me, because I'm all the better for it. But heaven knows it isn't the only good lesson...in fact, it's just the tip of the ice berg.

Operation Creep-Me-No-More

2011-05-16T20:28:00.004-06:00

I have been known to dabble in the sociality of life (I don't think 'sociality' is a word, but it serves its purpose for this sentence). From time to time, I even make friends. What's more is that I make friends with those who are willing to retrieve creepy baby heads from lofty places with me...or for me. The torment had to end one way or another. I couldn't look out my window and see this every time anymore:

Me: You guys! We need to get creepy baby head off the parking cover so I don't have to look at it anymore. Bobbi, come here, I'll foist you up.

Bobbi: No! Hannah, you can't lift me.

Me: Yes, I can, Bob. I'm freakishly strong.

Bobbi: Ugh. Fine.

Me: We need another person and a spotter -- Melissa, Clarissa...

Bobbi: Hannnnnnah, I don't want to do it.

Me: Too bad.

With Clarissa and I in crouched positions, our hands locked and Melissa in the back as a spotter, Bobbi was just about to take a step when I un-linked my hands and ran the opposite direction--

Me: WAAAIIT! We need photos, Elizabeth, you take photos.

Yep, I almost killed one of my best friends for visual documentation. It ~~was~~ might have been worth it. You be the judge.

Once we were situated again, the foisting began:

Then there was the dangling:

Then yelling...

"RIGHT! RIGHT! YOU GUYS HAVE TO MOVE ME RIGHT!"

"We are going RIGHT!"

"YOUR OTHER RIGHT!"

"UUUUUUGH!"

"HIGHER! LIFT ME HIGHER!"

"TRYING! I'M ONLY FREAKISHLY STRONG TO A POINT! AND I'M SHORT!"

"RIIIIIIIIGHT! Almost. There, don't move!"

Then there were decapitated heads of the children of Chucky raining from the sky...

"Get me down!"

"How?"

"Just let go of her, Clarissa."

And so, we both let Bobbi go and let her dangle from the covered parking apparatus for a few seconds....

"I'll just grab her, I'm freakishly strong," I exclaimed in a He-Man like voice, while bear hugging Bobbi around the hips. Now that I think of it, there was probably a little too much butt-to-face ratio...meh, oh well. Bottom line, I safely lowered Bobbi to the ground.

Then there was celebrating...

Then there was gawking...

I didn't really know what to do with it from there, nor did I have the heart to throw away something with so much...personality. So, I gifted it to my neighbor...he was none too pleased. We know because we watched him. Which is decidedly more creepy than the two-faced, bodiless head.

Bongos, Upgrade, and Sun

2011-05-04T19:14:00.004-06:00

Am taking the time to relax and be outside rather than inside at work pertdarnear 24/7. Also, I am finding myself without Internet at home, so it sort of forces me to do other things besides watching an excess amount of Say Yes to the Dress.

A few things:

•As I sit here, there is bongo music coming from somewhere. It is quite nice.

•Dramatic retrieval of the creepy baby head took place this last weekend. Story and photos to follow soon.
•Just realized I have been sitting on egg shells for about an hour. Easter, a hill, the rolling of eggs, and swarms of sea gulls for days after...'tis perfect.
Taken on my iPhone using Hipstamatic.

•Had a heart to heart with Lacy yesterday, which went something like this:
"Hannah, it is time for a new car. You can't keep driving the truck. It doesn't have power steering and it only seats two people!"

"I don't wanna. I'm scarred from the last experience of almost buying a car (story for another day)."

"It really wasn't that bad. You're just being a wimp. Toughen up, Hesley."

"Yes, it WAS that bad! I'm scarred, Lacy, scarrrrrred! And as long as I drive the truck I don't have to have a car payment."

"But it's time, Hannah, you know it it. You're a contributing member of society and that means having a car payment -- debt! "

"Ugh. You are the devil."

"I know, and It's time to upgrade, it's time for a big kid car now."

"It IS a big kid car -- it's TWENTY EIGHT YEARS OLD!"

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Old Age and Old Eggs

2011-04-24T12:33:00.002-06:00

Every year, I ask the question, "Mama, who is going to hide our Easter eggs this year? Don't let Hali, she always forgets where she hides them."

'Tis a true story. Back when we were younger and didn't have to be challenged as much, Mom would hide eggs throughout the house and yard and we would run, shove, and sabotage each other to find the most eggs. When we got to be in high school (and some in college), Hali wanted to be the one to hide the eggs....Hali is the youngest. Anyway, one year we came up one egg short. The next year, guess what we found? Yep, one extremely rotten hard-boiled egg stuffed in one of the drawers of Mom's china hutches.

Fantastic.

Some years ago, we migrated toward scavenger egg-hunts, with clues and our Easter baskets at the end. We've grown up now, the oldest of us is 29, the youngest 21. Yesterday, I asked the question, "Mama, who is going to hide our Easter eggs this year?"

"Not me."

"Sigh, don't let Hali do it, she always forgets where she hides them."

"Well then, I guess you are just out of luck."

"You say that every year and every year you lie."

Next thing you know, there are four 20-something-year-olds, plus The Kona, running around the house and yard, shoving and trying to sabotage each other. Never too old. I almost won except for that squirrely older sister of mine.

And then there is the epic Easter extravaganza at Grandma's house with all the cousins...fifteen grown adults from 38 to 20 sprinting and shoving and throwing each others clues across the yard....it begins like this:

And no, we don't use baskets, we are high class with the plastic bags. Winner gets twenty bucks.

Then onto egg rolling. It's more entertaining that it probably should be.

New this year: egg toss.

500 - egg style.

In the end, there are eggs smashed all over the street. We wait for the seagulls to come and then run after them with the kids, always wary of flying poop.

Never too old for festive holidays.

Ten Things

2011-04-21T22:49:00.003-06:00

1. Been working 13-hour days. Not much in the way of musings going on, as of late.

2. Some people are just so amazing, especially in the face of great trials. I've learned soooo much from these type of people in the last few months.

3. Been watching an excess amount of Say Yes to the Dress. As much as I love the show, it is a little sad how there seems to be the connotation that weddings are just a big party and pretty dress. I say HURRAY for marriage and ETERNITY!

Nauvoo, IL LDS Temple, June 2010.

4. Nine out of the last eleven days I have eaten every meal at work. Sigh.

5. "Promise me you'll always remember: you're braver than you believe and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think."

6. The other day, I watched a person take a novel with them into a stall in a public bathroom. Awkward.

7. Seriously needing a proverbial breathe of fresh air. I need England. I really do.

Houses of Parliament on the River Thames, May 2010.

8. I wish it could stay April all the time - cloudy, rainy, not too hot, just slightly chilly. Like England. I was not made for warm climates.

9. My previous point has led me to reaffirm how much I dislike the beach and would rather have the mountains and a lake.

10. I'm really impatient and would like to figure out, right now, what is supposed to come next in life. But then I remember it's okay and that there is always something about life to be totally in love with.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

A Residential Creeper

2011-04-17T21:33:00.003-06:00

When I moved into my current residence I looked out the window and could see the small outline of what appeared to be a rock on top of the covered parking in front of my apartment. That was the middle of the winter.

A few months went by and the snow melted. One day I looked out the window and to my horror:

This Crazy World Really Ain't So Bad

2011-04-12T23:40:00.003-06:00

I know, I know, I seriously know.

Pfft. My sister tells me on a regular basis that I need to blog more often. Apparently, I'm funny or...something. Or, she finds my life of trips and falls and embarrassing experiences amusing. Either way, I'm good with it. And yup, my first time back in two weeks, I'm doing a listy list, thanks to my good friend KJDL.

4 shows i watch
1. Grey's Anatomy. So addicting. McDreamy, yes. Bought the track list to the musical episode? Yes. Judge away.
2. House. Hugh Laurie is my husband if only for his pretty blue eyes. After Colin Firth, of course.
3. 30 Rock. Hilarious. Alec Baldwin a creeper, as always.
4. Psych. I wish I could go through life with people believing I am psychic. It would make things so much easier. Or not, I just needed a good reason for loving this show so much.

4 things i'm passionate about
1. England. Probably too passionate. I'll probably never grow out of it.

Photo by me, Devonshire, England, March 2009.

Photo by me at Buckingham Palace, May 2010.

2. My family. Can't ever spent too much time with them. Except for when me and my sisters' womanness is in sync. Then, it's an epic battle of who can have those most mood swings in three days time or who cries first while watching a Disney movie.

3. The Kona.

4. Traveling. Once you have the traveling bug, you never wanna be in the same place for too long. There is too much to see, too much to do, too much of this world to marvel at! For example:

Photo by me, Cliffs of Moher, Ireland, March 2009.

4 phrases i say alot
1. "Good crap." Thank, Lacy. It's your fault.
2. "Wirklich?!" (veer-klish) A German word meaning, "really," in the context such as, "Really? Did you really just do that?"
3. "Kona, come here. Come here. I just want to spoon with you."
4. "You alright?" Like that Brits say, as if to say "What's up?" It's more of rhetorical question/greeting that a genuine inquiry as to how a person is. I forget my fellow Americans don't understand this concept and usually give me an answer like, "Ah yeah, bit bloated, but overall I'm okay." Too much, eh?

4 things i've learned from the past
1. The Lord is always there for you. Took me a long time to finally figure that out.
2. The Mama is always right. Well, most of the time. Like, 95% of the time.
3. I think I've always been who I was going to be, it just took a long time to understand myself and I'm still figuring it all out.
4. A car without a cup holder may as well not even be a car.

4 things i did yesterday
1. Fell asleep at 7pm and didn't wake up until the next morning. Yes, I am 90 years old.
2. Lovely conversation with my good friends Bobbi and Elizabeth.
3. When you work until 6pm and fall asleep at 7pm, it doesn't leave whole lot of day aside from work.
4. Refused to give in to western medicine to cure an epic, epic migraine. Won.

4 places i would love to visit
1. Alaska
2. Olympic National Park
3. Switzerland
4. Black Forest of Germany

4 things i'm looking forward to
1. Early, make-up family Easter on Saturday.
2. ~~Buying~~ Having a new car. Power steering included.
3. My brother coming home.
4. The next time I go back to England (whenever that may be, sigh...)

4 things i love about spring
1. The rain.
2. Seeing people out and about on campus: laying on the Quad, studying, taking naps...basically, just seeing people after six months of everyone being cooped up inside.
3. Me and my family going camping when it is only slightly warm outside and then freezing our bums off suring the below-freezing nights. Also, cliff-jumping at the lake in May...in the mountains...with all the snow run-off. We never learn.
4. The general excitement that surrounds a college town knowing that summer break is nigh.

Of Swords, Sleep and Insecurity

2011-03-29T23:28:00.005-06:00

Notables of the past week:

Sometimes, when I wake up in the morning and I'm insanely tired I tend to over dramatize everything. Just this morning I considered bailing on two appointments, going home for lunch just to take a nap, and choosing to be in a grumpy mood all day just to let everyone know I was sleep deprived. Also, I believe at one point I decided to quit my job altogether in order to sleep more. Of course, I did none of those things, drama wears off with the first Diet Coke of the day.

Yesterday, I watched two guys across the street fight with actual samurai swords while two of their friends looked on and recorded the action. This would have been cool if they had not cowered away every time the swords clashed.

Here's the thing about living in Northern Utah: just when you think winter is over and spring is finally here, it snows several inches and is 18 degrees in the morning...in APRIL.

photo: by me at the Keukenhof Flower Festival in Holland, April 2009

I have suddenly become my father (love you, papa), tromping through the apartment turning off every single light and asking myself, "Do they enjoy paying for electricity they are not using?! We're lightin' up the neighborhood, folks!"

Am now a walking pharmacy due to last week's illness. Have an inhaler. What a throwback. I haven't had an inhaler or been treated for asthma since I was a tween. The first day I got it last week, I took a puff, and one minute later I had my mom on the phone, "Mama, I can BREEEEAAATTHE!" Oh, the miracle of western medicine...and going to the doctor more often than every ten years.

Also, I feel like slight nerd because of said inhaler. Was in the break room at work yesterday and tried my best to conceal taking a puff of the inhaler. Didn't work. But you know what's great about being a grown up? People don't make fun of you like they did when you were twelve and extremely awkward. Huzzah for insecurity!

I Bet I Look as Good When Running

2011-03-22T15:29:00.003-06:00

Okay, so I've been home sick for the last three days, running a fever of 100+ for a good part of it. Between the chills and the sweats and the phlegm and boogers, it's been a pretty lame existence. That's when I saw this and this. Seriously. I don't think I've wheezily laughed so hard in quite some time. If you think you're too good to follow the links, then let me give you a little sneak preview because I daresay you will click on over after you see this:

Now, you can't tell me that is not enticing.

Dreams to Adopt

2011-03-18T15:04:00.000-06:00

My sister and her husband have just begun the adventure that is adoption. You can see their adoption blog here. I can't think of any two people more deserving and more ready to have a child of their own. Plus, that child would have The Kona for a dog. Need I say more?

Poop Head

2011-03-14T22:52:00.008-06:00

Went home this weekend. Saw The Kona for the first time since surgery. The Kona had a benign tumor removed from her leg and has been doomed to the Cone of Shame for two weeks.

Conversation with Mom:

Han: Has anyone put the cone on their head?

Mom: Um....no. No, Hannah, no one has thought to put the dog's cone on their head.
five minutes later...
Han: Mama, will you help me? I can't reach my face.

Mom: Mmm?

Han: Ugh. Where are my sisters?

five minutes later...

Hali: That's gross.

Han: I cleaned it off.

Harmony: You know, the day we brought Kona home and let her out to go potty, she was flinging her poop around with the cone.

Hali: It's true.

silence

Han: Moooooooooooooooommmmm!

distant giggling...

Remote Control/Weapon of Mass Destruction

2011-03-13T00:34:00.001-07:00

If there was one, short way to sum up the relationship my sisters and I have with each other, it would be this post by my older sister, Harmony. I had to work on this particular day, but rest assured I would have been there if I were not a slave to my job. Ooooh yes, I certainly would have been there. Of course it would have taken a violent awakening at the crack of dawn and my sisters physically dragging me out of bed, but I would have been there.

There are stories, indeed. When I was young and spry and full of life, the parental unit would awaken us children at the crack of dawn. Knocking on doors, stomping on the floor above my basement bedroom...yes, it was a magical time. Ten minutes later, three of the four would be vertical. An hour later, the parental unit would ask the three where the fourth was. An hour and a minute later, the three would be arguing over who would have to awake the sleeping fourth. Why? Because waking up the fourth was a terrifying task, indeed.

"I don't care who does it, just go get her up," was the order from one or both parents.

An hour and three minutes later: more knocking on doors, more stomping on the floor...but to no avail. There I would be, peacefully [and happily] sleeping in bed, ignoring the knocking and the stomping and the hollering. The three would do everything in their power to not have to do the task they had been assigned. After more ~~promptings~~ orders from the parental unit and after what I'm sure was a lengthy debate by way of a best three-out-of-five rock, paper, scissors, the loser would reluctantly enter the room of the sleeping beast. The next thing I knew, every blanket had been ripped from the bed, as well as the pillows, and I'm laying there in my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pj's on a bare mattress pretending that the lack of warmth and comfort was no big deal.

And that's when the physical assaults would start. I'd start flailing my limbs about in hopes of connecting with my sibling's face and/or sensitive regions. I was usually not successful because they would be prepared for such violent and spastic movements.

You see, my siblings had the "remote control". When I was younger, I used to have an old school television in my room that only had thirteen channels and each channel had its own button that you would have to push. Of course, this was not savvy for the modern age of technology and laziness. So, I fashioned myself a "remote control" out of a disassembled wire hanger, which I covered in duct tape for stability. Then, I was able to lay at ease in bed and use the three foot long remote control to switch back and forth between the thirteen channels [which was really more like only three channels because I had rabbit ears rather than cable]. Ah, the high life.

Anyway, my siblings would grab the remote control and proceed to poke me with it, in attempts to get me out of bed. It usually failed and all three would exit the room. About thirty seconds later, I could hear the unmistakable sound of one or both parents coming down the stairs (I can tell who is coming down the stairs just by the sound of their steps; they go at different speeds and patterns). Once I heard that terrifying sound, I was out of bed and dressed faster than Charlie Sheen could ruin his career. Seriously, I was fast, because there was nothing more terrifying than getting assigned additional chores simply because I value sleep.

My mum says I started sleeping through the night when I was two weeks old. I obviously knew where my priorities were at a very young age. And now? Well, I still love to sleep, but this whole "being a grown up" thing with the full time job has really messed things up. Oh well, sleep when you're dead, they say.

Way to my heart: sushi.

2011-03-06T18:41:00.001-07:00

This weekend, me besty LaDa came to visit. Memorable quotes:

"Where should we go (for sushi)? Takara?"
[audible gasp] "I feel like if we had a place, it would be Happy Sushi."

later... "Why do we have to have a place? Why does there have to be 'a place'? Why can't I just carry it in my heart?"

"You know what we just had, right? Pillow talk."

"Ra ra, Rasputin, lover of the Russian queen!"

"I have to go potty, but I gotta do the two, so I'm going away."

"I can't believe you have chosen to forget the majority of our friendship!"

"You realize that we fell asleep at eleven on a Friday night watching Freakonomics. And our internal clocks won't let us sleep past ten on a Saturday morning. Where did our youth go?"

"You should be warned, I drink skim milk."
"That's just buying water!"

"My heart feels warm-ish after that encounter."
"Warm-ish? Not entirely warmed?"

Math of Another Kind

2011-03-01T18:34:00.002-07:00

"Am I crying because this is really upsetting, or am I crying because of it's what biology says I should do right now?"

Women ask themselves this question at least once a month. I know because I asked myself that question at least three times today, once while standing in the doorway of my boss's office spouting off the following speech at warp speed:

"Just so you know, I'm probably going to cry. And I just want you to know that I know that it's going to happen. It's not really even a good reason for crying, but I also just got off my period and I already almost cried early today...so yeah, it's going to happen."

Um..HELLO, world's most insecure, hormonal woman. Nevermind the fact that the above comment was directed at one of my besties, who just happened to be in my boss' office at the time...no, nevermind that. How about the fact that I couldn't wait to say that until I was not in the presence of my employer? Good crap.

So, if we do the math and if a baby girl born in the U.S. today can expect to live 100 years, with menopause setting in at about age 50...it's means she will ask herself this question for about 38 years, for a total of 456. Since I asked myself that question three times in one day and this thing normally lasts about 3-4 days every month, we can up that to 600.

Then there is pregnancy. A pregnant woman will ask herself the question at least once an hour for nine months...but then you factor in that the average birthrate per woman in the U.S. is 2.1. Our total is now up to 12,960.

Then there's menopause...www.menopause.about.com (I know, I love that there is a website dedicated to it, as well) tells me that it can last anywhere from 2 to 10 years. In my estimation, a menopausal woman will ask herself the question once a day. We'll go with worst case scenario that menopause will last 10 years. Our total is now 16,610.

No wonder.

PS - Yes, I really did do the math, as well as looked up the averages and statistics. Judge away. Did you hear that? Yeah....yep, that was the sound of the question counter going up for me. I'm currently at 744. Only 15,866 to go.

Edit: I just realized (to my horror) that I just wrote an entire post about...well, you know. Crazy is very appropriate right now.

Life Points...Loss

2011-02-28T23:43:00.004-07:00

And thus was the day that I attempted to dig my car out of two feet of snow with a snow brush. Also, shuffle stepping closely together so as to pack the snow down...even less effective.

My efforts were in vein, for I got stuck. No one was around. Have you ever tried doing the drive-reverse-drive-reverse-drive-reverse thing, trying to rock the car to get enough momentum to get free? In a manual transmission? Yeah, me either. But it worked and a half hour after I first attempted to leave, I was free.

Life points:
-2 for not having a new car yet.
-5 for using a snow brush as a shovel.
+2 for having extend-o snow brush, so no stooping or bending necessary.
+3 for freeing an entire car from snow embankment all by myself.
-3 for working on a Saturday as being the reason why I had to try so hard.
+4 for witnessing the apartment of guys next door watching and wowing at this
-1 Total

Mi hermana es loca.

2011-02-24T23:00:00.005-07:00

A riveting and insightful conversation had with my younger sister, Hali, while she watched the entirety of "Where the Red Fern Grows" in Spanish:

Me: Why are you watching this?

Hali: Because I haven't seen it in a long time.

Me: It's in Spanish...

Hali: I know...

Me: Um...alright.

...an hour later...

Me: Why are you still watching this? You can't tell what is going on.

Hali: Yeah I can. I can tell by their tone and pitch and emotions.

Me: ...okay, but you don't understand Spanish.

Hali: I know.

Me: Then why are you watching it?

Hali: Because I want to watch the dogs...

Me: But...we have a dog.

Hali: I know.

Me: So...whhhhyyy--

Hali: SHHHHHHHH! I can't hear!

Me: YOU DON'T SPEAK SPANISH!!!

Recent Life, as Told by Me

2011-02-15T20:21:00.000-07:00

On occassion, my stomach reacts before my brain thinks and I'm left with a burned roof of the mouth, which is starting to blister. I never knew blisters could form on the inside of your mouth. How embarrassing.

I have a habit of speaking at warp speed. I am soooo aware of it. My boss said that when I'm speaking particularly fast, listening to me is kind of like a rock skipping across a lake...only catching water/words every few seconds. Fantastic.

I finally figured out that the 3-week long chronic headache was withdrawal....from crack cocaine. Okay, not really. I'm from Utah, remember? We don't do that sort of thing. Withdrawal from Diet Coke. Embarrassing, I know.

Since when did emoticons become an acceptable form of communication in the work place? I can understand the occasional smiley face in an email between friendly co-workers...but mass emails, the recipients of which include VPs and the like? My, oh my, that makes The Han :(

Yesterday, I saw The King's Speech and fell in love with Colin Firth all over again. Remember when I "married" him? Yeah, you probably wouldn't because apparently I never wrote about it, so there is no linkage. But a few years back, my co-workers Photoshopped a photo of me and Colin together and created a wedding announcement. It was alarming, but so worth it. I know the announcement still exists somewhere...when I find it, I shall share it with you.

Some nights, I have to try very hard to stay awake until a reasonable hour to go to bed. Like I've said before, 5: 30 pm is just not an acceptable bed time for an adult...a geriatric adult, maybe, but adults in general - no. Tonight is one such night.

Unhindered Ramblings

2011-02-09T19:40:00.005-07:00

They say blogging is supposed to come easily to you. They say that if you have to think too hard about what to write, then you shouldn't do it. Well, I've always been one to follow the rules, so I'm just going to write what is on my mind. They may not be related and it might not make sense, but I've been in a funk the size of the Grand Canyon, so here goes nothin'...

I've had a headache for about three weeks straight now and I can't figure why. It's getting exhausting, impeding my sleep and my daily production. The previous tennant of the room I am living in had a chinchilla. My mom said maybe I am allergic to what was left. I dismissed it. Today, I woke up without pain for the first time in weeks. I went to work - no pain. I came home, went to the kitchen and made dinner - no pain. I went to my room and five minutes later...guess what? Pain.

Maybe it's all just in my mind and I have pain because an idea has been planted in my brain...or maybe...maybe my mom is right. And she is always right. So, I guess I'm telling you all that it appears I am allergic to chinchillas. I can't decide if that's cool, awkward, or just embarrassing.

I have forgotten how much I love egg salad sandwiches. Yesterday, I made it and you know what I discovered? I am 23-years-old and I had to call my mom to ask her how to make hard-boiled eggs. Not because I don't know how, but because I lack the ability to make them perfectly, just like Mom does. It took three attempts: severely undercooked, severely overcook, and still overcooked, but not enough to dissuade me from satisfying my craving.

If I could have a dance party with the twins and Julia every night, pretty sure life would be awesome. Our song of choice is Mr. Brightside, followed by the Mamma Mia soundtrack. The twins are four and they know all the lyrics. Bradley maniacally jumps up and down while Laney plays the air guitar in between making slow motion interpretive dance moves. I hold Julia as we jump around, watching and laughing at how funny her brother and sister are. Oh, to be young and free.

photo by me

photo source

And finally, a quote I am loving:

"Wherever you find yourselves on this journey through life, whatever trials you may face, there is always a point of safe return; there is always hope. You are the captain of your life..."

-Dieter F. Uchtdorf, read the whole thing here

On the Up and Up

2011-02-08T20:57:00.001-07:00

There are only a few companies in the world I believe to be absolute genius. Disney is on the top of the list. Everything they do is happy and shiny and magical. For example:

Next is Toyota (minus the recent safety recalls). I might be biased because of my Japanese heritage, but I think they are awesome. Anyone that can make a car that runs perfectly after 28 years and that can go almost 300,000 miles has my pledge. Also, they have the "Toyota Way" and Lean Production. You should Google Lean Production, because it's too complex for one simple link...

Speaking of Google, they are next on the list. Have you seen their new Art Project? Talk about cool. Not only can I be back at home in London, I can be in my favorite museum there. Also, did you see the main Google page today? Check it out before it's gone!

And that is my short list of companies that should rule the world. No more of this Walmart business. Coca-Cola is creeping up onto the list, but that is just because Diet Coke is my vice. Who do you think should rule the world?

They Stripped Her of Her Dignity and Left Her Like This

2011-02-02T13:08:00.001-07:00

"We've just finished disassembling the vehicle and it looks like it'll be a total loss."

DISASSEMBLE?? That's a punch in the gut if I ever saw one. I can't even imagine what she'll look like after they sell her for her parts. She's just a THING to them, those heartless jerks.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Eight Point Turns and Such

2011-01-24T18:41:00.001-07:00

There's some things in life that never occur to you to miss until they are gone...so gone...soooooo gone. Like power steering, for instance. I have been without power steering for almost two weeks now and it has led to alternate routes, muscle building, and I'm pretty sure I popped a vein in my neck from the sheer effort I have to put into making a simple left turn.

Apartment parking lot: could not make a tight enough turn to exit the lot the route I wanted. Ended up making a loop that took about 2 mintues longer than needed. Also, had to squeeze between the curb and a semi truck. Who needs a SEMI to move all their stuff into a small town home? Pretty sure if you have enough stuff to fill an entire semi you should consider a housing upgrade. That, or two words: Deseret Industries.

Parking garage: normally, I park on the second floor, but for whatever reason I parked on the third this particular day. This ended in near disaster. Disaster for my sanity, that is. Usually, I only need to make a couple of turns and I'm out of the garage, but because I parked one floor higher I circled around the garage three times. Every time, I thought the exit was just around the corner, only to find that I was back where I started. You think I would have learned the first time, but apparently I have the memory of a gold fish. I blame it on the fact that I was so concentrated on not hitting other vehicles while trying to carefully maneuver tight turns...all without POWER STEERING.

Roundabout: the ONLY roundabout in the entire Cache Valley. Basically, I was afraid the poor little truck would not be able to successful make a 360 loop, so I just skipped it and went around the block.

Truck? Yes, you've seen it, this truck is what I am now driving. I'm not complaining, no, not at all. I am so grateful to have a vehicle to drive right now...but all I'm saying is that I don't need to join a gym anymore. I'm burning calories, building muscles, transporting myself, and SITTING...ALL at the same time. It's like the 21st century man's dream.

Also, without power steering there is no such thing as a three-point-turn. There is only the eight-point-turn.

Moral of the story: drive slower than you think is absolutely necessary, then go 15 mph slower than that. Then hope the responding officer was not just called in on his day off. This = grumpy = ticket = sad Hannah = broke Hannah. Also, hope that the other cute guy you got in the accident with is not married. That = lame = unamused Hannah.

Lastly, my Grams just turned 91 this weekend. Holla at ya G!

Two-Tenths of Wire

2011-01-17T22:29:00.002-07:00

Snow, ice, darkness, two collisions and one yet to be determined totaled or not totaled vehicle. Also, one slightly traumatized Hannah who is now afraid to drive. There's not really a way to qualify, quantify, or put words on how it feels to be spinning out of control across two lanes of busy, slippery, icy freeway in darkness after you just hit another vehicle. There's not really a way to explain how it feels to think your car is going to roll as you slide off the side of the freeway into a ditch, on the other side of which is the Great Salt Lake.

And how the crap do you explain how it feels to know that the only thing that stopped you from rolling was a wimpy looking wire barrier that was only about two-tenths of a mile long? Fifty more yards down the freeway and me and the other vehicle would have ended up in a much worse situation. Two-tenths of a mile. I was saved by a wire guard rail that was only two-freaking-tenths of a mile long. Ummmmm, pretty sure someone was watching out for me.

The only amusing thing about the night: after a half hour of extracting my car from the wire barrier and a slow tow ride, the wrecker lowered my car from the truck. Once it hit the ground and the line was detached, the bumper pathetically dropped to the ground. It just fell off the rest of the car. It gave up the ghost. It was so pathetic, in fact, that I could not help but laugh. Yep, I laughed right out loud standing in the middle of a dark, snowy car yard with a hairy man named Royce.

And then my mom came and I cried.

1983-2005

2011-01-09T20:33:00.004-07:00

There was this one time that me and my family drove all our Toyotas to the local church parking lot and lined them up. Then we took photos with our seven of our Toyotas. Yes, seven. If you count, you will notice that there are only six of people, but if you look closely, you can see the seventh person in the driver seat of the little red truck.

The ages of these vehicles range from 1983 to 2005. We should have been on that Toyota Family Story commercial...plus we're Japanese, so it's only fitting. As my sister said, "We do not do hand-me-downs, we keep them."

We are awesome and yes, slightly nerdy.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
- Panoramic photo stitched together using Autostitch for iPhone.

[Fake] Clean Slate

2011-01-01T00:18:00.001-07:00

I won't bother you with a butt-long laundry list of all the things I did this year. You can go back through the archives of this blog to read all about that. Instead, I'll just say the really important things:

Graduated from college. Tripped, broke a heel, fell and walked through the procession barefooted.

Went back to England. Breath of fresh air.

Was temporarily unemployed. Bounds of freedom which are now lost (see next).

Got a big kid job with a steady income and benefits. Huzzah.

Moved. Several times. Somehow managing to stay in the same town.

As one person so eloquently said, life is pretty much the same today as it was yesterday. It's a "fake clean slate"...not that I'm a pessimist, but it's true, we could have a clean slate any time we want, we just decide to all do it at the same time. Kind of like how an entire population decides to all go to Walmart at the same time -- every day. Or like how we all decide to wait until December 23rd to go to the Post Office.

I'm actually boycotting this new year, because "twenty-eleven" doesn't roll off the tongue quite as nicely as "twenty-ten" or "o'ten".

Happy new fake clean slate, everyone.

The Personal Ad Writes Itself

2010-12-20T21:26:00.002-07:00

On any given night, the twins wander into my room...it's such an organic and natural thing...we end up laying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, chatting away or having a dance party. The other night I taught them the Cha Cha Slide, and another time we learned the Night at the Roxbury head bob.

Occasionally, we'll read a book, but most of the time we just sit and talk about the big questions in life, like what the best part of Disneyland is, or how I fail to make my bed every day. They are four, yet our conversations amount to that of a group of twenty-something-year-olds. Tonight, was perhaps our deepest conversation yet:

"Hannah, you married?"

"Nope. Are you?"

"Nooooo, I'm four!"

"Oh, my bad."

"Hannah?"

"Yeah, bud?"

"Who you gonna marry?"

"I dunno."

"What he gonna be like?"

"Well, he has to be taller than me...have a college degree--"

"What's that?"

"Big kid school. Aaand, he is going to be handsome--"

"Handsome like me?"

"Yep, but no one is as handsome as you, huh bud?"

"Ah. Yeah...he gonna have brown hair?"

"Yeah, I like dark hair."

"Oh. Yeah, short black hair...and glasses."

"Like Harry Potter?"

"Ummmm....no. Like Dad."

"Oh, okay. Aaaand, he has to like dogs. And he has to like to travel and play games...and he has to be funny and nice. And he has to get along with my fami--"

"I'm gonna go ask Mom if she knows anyone..."

In the kitchen, "Mom, do you know anyone taller than Hannah?"

"Um, I don't know. Maybe she'll meet some new people at her new house."

"Hm."

Back in the other room, "Hannah, I know! You could marry a tiger!"

"A tiger! That would be awkward."

"You could marry a reindeer!"

"A reindeer? Child birth would not be fun."

"Hannah? You gonna have a baby and kids?"

"Yeah, after I'm married."

"Hannah, you could marry a guy with a reindeer shirt!"

"A reindeer shirt? There is definitely an abundance of those around..."

"Yeah, and he'll have black pants!"

"Done and done. When you find him, you let me know."

"Okay...Hannah?"

"Yeah, bud?"

"Your dad is Mike. He married Aunt Joanie."

"That's right, bud, good job!"

By then, Laney had returned, "Hannah?"

"Yeah, sis?" "

Mom didn't know anyone, but I'll tell you if I find anyone."

"Okay...make sure he doesn't smoke, though."

R2D2 and the ROTC

2010-12-14T23:48:00.000-07:00

Random and noteworthy experiences from the last couple weeks:

Today, I saw an Army ROTC officer in uniform walking up the sidewalk to campus...he was delicately carrying a crock pot. Soldiers can get their crock-potting on, too.

The other night while on a walk with The Kona, I walked past a house and in the front room was a person playing the harp. Seriously? It's like when my 90-year-old Grandma's home-care package came with a harpist. She told them to not come back.

On the same walk, I passed a miniature lighted see-saw with Santa on one end and a snow man on the other. This is only interesting because it was teetering very slowly and creaking as it went. It was like a Hallmark Channel horror Christmas made for tv movie. Do those even exist?

For my birthday, I received a miniature robot desk vacuum. Was vacuuming my office chair and making robot noises when the boss walked in...okay, I wasn't making robot noises, but that makes it a little bit funnier, innit?

The Kona loves socks. They are her favorite. At any point in time you can find a trail of socks throughout the house. She doesn't eat them, no, she just kind of carries them around with her. Except baby socks. She LOVES baby socks. She EATS baby socks. She SWALLOWS baby socks. This weekend she swallowed two. Fear not, she poops them out eventually.

Got in a fight with the Mama last week. You know what's worse than fighting with your mom? Knowing the whole time while you are fighting that she is right and you are just trying to delay the inevitable. Which leads to my next point...

Sometimes, for recreational purposes, I sit and try and think of times when the Mama has been wrong. You know what? The woman is never wrong. It's the most annoying and coolest thing in the world. I'm not just saying this because she reads my blog...I'm saying it because Christmas is coming up...((semi colon - close parentheses) I refuse to use emoticons).

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Dance of the Goober

2010-12-05T20:30:00.003-07:00

Well, well, well...look who has hit follower numero 100. I may or may not be a follower of myself, but if I am, I would have done that too long ago for it to matter now. How joyous this moment is. Thank you all for very creepily following my life.

Tonight, I had my very first solo dance party...not in celebration of the 100, no, I'm not that desperate...and that would have just been embarrassing. The dance party was just for fun because the Larsonians left me alone for the week to go to Disneyland (pffft...) and I have the house to myself. Commence dance par-tay O'Ten...actually, I'm not alone if that makes me any less of a loser. Remember Loki the puppy? Yeah, he's not a puppy anymore. He is more like 100 pounds of muscle and drool and makes a horrible dance partner, especially when you consider I tried to make the tug-o-war look like dancing.

Loki has been sitting and staring at my book collection for quite some time. Should I be concerned that he might be literate? He keeps sniffing at Sherlock Holmes and the Hound of Baskerville. Okay, okay, bad joke, but he really has been looking at the books for a while, and I really do have Sherlock Holmes on the shelf.

I was jamming out to Gomez, but Mannheim Steamroller just came on shuffle and I don't think even Loki is prepared for what is about to happen next...

*Update: Just confirmed that I am not following myself. Take that, judgmental blogosphere!

Post Traumatic HAN Disorder

2010-12-04T00:00:00.000-07:00

Tonight, I fell asleep on the couch at 7:30 pm watching House Hunters International and woke up to a financial advisement show.

I'm an 80-year-old now, in case you didn't know.

Extremely bad day at work. If I'm being honest, I did cry afterward. So, how did I wind down? I rejected the world, spoke to no one except the dog, ate pizza, then organized. I organize when I'm stressed or bored, and today I had a little retail therapy and purchased a portable and expandable filer for all my important documents. What an exhilarating experience.

Then, what could be more soothing than busting out a puzzle? Alone?

Good crap. It's suddenly 1974 and I'm 87 years old. What an extremely embarrassing insight into the life of Hannah post traumatic stress work day.You might think it would bother me to share this with the blogosphere, but it doesn't. In fact, I think it's makes me a real person, just like you. All of you, you stalkers, most of whom I don't know, but all of whom I am extremely glad that you find me amusing enough to follow me.

Black Wheelchair Friday

2010-11-29T22:51:00.002-07:00

You know what's worse than shopping at midnight on Black Friday, standing outside in 12 degree weather, and then not being able to win the door-buster prize? APARTMENT HUNTING, that's what's worse. And what's worse than apartment hunting? MATTRESS SHOPPING.

But let's visit the former before we visit the latter.

My first real Black Friday experience. The sisters thought it would be fun to stand outside Old Navy at 10:30 pm and wait in angst for 12:00 am when the doors open and a herd of screaming women thunder in. I let them talk me into thinking it would be a good idea, too. It was, in theory. It was, in reality, very fun. The reason we really went at such an obscene hour was to win the door-buster prize for cousin numero uno. They handed out wristbands to the first 59 people in line, which meant that they won the magical Dance Central for the new XBox 360 Kinect.

The sisters and I were approximately Psycho-Crazy Women in Line Numbers 7,278 through 7,381. No wristbands. Instead, we got magical coupons for FREE SOCKS! Oh, the joy that was ours. But what ULTIMATE joy was ours when we found that those FREE two dollar socks came with a $25 dollar purchase. Oh, praise the retailer gods!

Cousin, whom we tried to win the game for, ventured up to Logan to wait in 6 degree weather for her chance to win the game. Meanwhile, back in 12 degree-land, the sisters and I plotted to haggle for a wristband. No one was being friendly, in fact they were quite surly about just giving their prize away for free. FREE, like how they GOT IT. When I finally got up the guts I meandered to the front of the line, trying to look as haggard and tired as possible, and shouted out, "Who will give me their wristband for ten dollars, a coupon for free socks.......and HAND WARMERS?!" I shouted, while ceremoniously pulling the aforementioned hand warmers from my pocket. They laughed. They all laughed at the hand warmers...but they wanted them.

SUCCESS!

Meanwhile, back in 6-degree Logan, the doors opened and cousin entered, being the THIRD TO LAST person to receive a wristband. All unbeknownst to myself. Good thing that she did actually need two copies of the game, otherwise I would have had to re-haggle for the return of my ten dollars -- er....I mean little sister's ten dollars.

Did I mention that big sister recently had knee surgery and is crutch-bound? Did I mention that we borrowed my 90-year-old grandmother's wheelchair and stuck big sister in it? Crazy, maniacal Black Friday shoppers are surprisingly friendly at 2 am when they see a tiny, unruly looking girl in a wheel chair.

Upon entering the store, I quickly lost track of little sister while slowly rolling big sister through the crowd, frequently muttering sorry to those we plowed over. However, I soon lost track of big sister, as well. I turned to look at a shirt, turned back and she was gone! Big sister was surprising fast in the wheel chair, especially when you consider that her arms were full and thus she scooted around the store using her good leg.

Normally, when I loose the sisters or the mama I simply shout, "Marco!" and the extremely loud cry of "POLO" rings back into my ears. The reply is loud because the sisters and the mama are usually fairly close to me, but I have lost them behind a sale rack or a small child.Our game of Marco Polo did not work there, no, not there...not that night. I wandered the store for about 15 minutes trying to spot the previously crutch-bound, now wheelchair-bound sister...I finally gave up and resorted to asking a stranger, "Have you seen a girl in a wheel chair?"

"Yeah, she went that way," she replied, pointing to the back of the and the back of the line waiting to check out.

"Thanks," I said grumpily, "she's surprisingly fast."

After following the check-out line for a few minutes and quickly ducking in and out of aisles looking for the mobile sister, I stopped again to ask a couple if they had seen a girl in a wheelchair, "Yes, she went that way," they said, pointing further back and to the opposite side of the store.

I followed the line to the back wall of the store, then turned, and turned again in the direction of the front of the store. Then I saw what loomed: the checkout line went in a complete loop around the store. I kept searching for any sigh of any sister with no luck. Finally, I was resigned and yelled out to the general public around me, "HAS ANYONE SEEN A GIRL IN A WHEELCHAIR?!"

"She went that way, towards the men's," replied several strangers unanimously. I finally found her, scooting along in and out of the men's clothing, where she was looking for attire for the person she calls "husband". I promptly rolled her into the check-out line, where we waited for an hour and a half. We only shopped for a half hour, so what does that tell you? That I first saw every item in the store at lightning speed, and then again in slow motion while in line for forever.

I find it extremely amusing that such an awkward and random question could yield such...such...useful results. How is it that all eight thousand people in that store saw wheelchair sister? The mysteries of the world are great...

This is big sister in Grandma's wheelchair. This is big sister with 30 items of clothing piled on her lap and behind her back. This is big sister mid-yawn. Notice big sister's feet. On one foot is a moon boot, on the other are three woolen socks and a moccasin.

And even after all that, I still find apartment hunting to be more loathsome. And the mattress shopping, that is a whole 'nother story all in itself, because that is when I explain the awkwardness of laying down, standing up, and rolling around on multiple mattresses in front of a salesman. Mattresses that hundreds of other people have laid down, stood up, and rolled around on. And in some cases, the rolling and laying and standing happened in front of three salesmen.

Oh, the awkwardness of my life knows no bounds.

A Lie and Some Letters

2010-11-10T20:29:00.002-07:00

Yes, I lied. I said I wouldn't do little letters again, but it really seemed like the only way to summarize where I have been for the last few weeks:

Dear Freshman Teeny-Bopper on the Elevator,

Saying, "I had a test today...I didn't go," definitely makes you cool. Especially when you say like a college degree is no big deal.

Dear Twins,

I thoroughly enjoyed the hour you sat on my bed and talked to me last night. Who'da thunk that cold cereal, E.T., and window curtains could make such great conversation.

Dear New Car Tires, A.C. and Brakes,

So this is what growing up means. Lame-sauce.

Dear Trincoln,

I miss my friends.

Dear Iraq,

Huzzah for big brother leaving you forever in nine days.

Dear Walmart,

Good crap.

Dear Grey's Anatomy,

It's slightly embarrassing how quickly I watched six seasons of you. But being sick in bed for a week definitely helped.

Dear Harry Potter,

So glad I live during your time.

Dead LaDa,

Sigh.

**Edit, what a horrifying typo to see that I might have deemed my BFF as dead. Be assured she is very much alive.**

Dear Daylight Savings,

I never see the light of day any more because of you - seriously.

Dear 23rd Birthday,

And so begins spinsterhood - Utah style. Not complaining, nor do I care, it's simply a fact.

(I Googled "spinsterhood" and this was the first image. I'm alive with joy now.)

Dear Blogosphere,

Hello again.

Wherein I Take Advantage of Being Asian

2010-10-21T21:11:00.000-06:00

I haven't posted in six days and already I'm getting hate ~~mail~~ comments...but when I didn't post for almost three weeks, did you complain then? Nooooooooo. So what's your problem now? Bored at work and need something to read? Oh, I'm SORRY, I apologize for the fact that I worked 13 hours yesterday without a lunch, without a break. But something tells me that that apology means nothing to you people out there in the blogosphere. Especially to those of you who claim to be family.

Lately, I have been considering the fact that I could perhaps be a doctor. This is mostly due in part to--well, it is completely due to the fact that I am recently addicted to Grey's Anatomy. Yes, it's true, and I know I'm about seven years late, but I find the unrealistic lives of those surgical residents extremely appealing. And why? Because Dr. Owen Hunt, who is possibly the most attractive man I have ever seen, married an Asian. Why is this important? Because IIIIIIIIIII am [half] Asian, and it gives me a little hope that he will one day become LDS and we will marry and have beautiful quarter-Asian, quarter-Caucasian, half-Scottish babies with a shade of hair somewhere between brown and red. Please, if you do not know of the man I speak of, go find out, because I believe I am far too dignified to post pictures of my what appears to be a tween-aged girl crush.

I'm afraid for what this means for my love of Dr. Gregory House...or my dying love. Will it die? Probably not. And I know what you're all thinking -- no, I am not addicted to television, I am merely addicted to hunky, make-believe, damaged doctors.

Aaaaaaanyways, on to less embarrassing things:

...

...............

Well, maybe not. There seems to not be a lot going on in life that constitutes "not embarrassing."

Han, out.

Floor 8 of 30

2010-10-15T09:23:00.001-06:00

The view from my friend's not quite downtown Chicago apartment. Off to the right is a Lake Michigan.

Three inflatable mattresses and ten people crammed into about 600 square feet....it was only great because two of the three mattresses deflated in the middle of the night.

Photo: Eleven different photos taken and stitched together on my iPhone using AutoStitch.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Facts

2010-10-14T19:39:00.000-06:00

Fact: Just landed in Chicago.

Fact: O'Hare is the second busiest airport in the world for a reason.

Fact: Previous fact got me hopelessly lost.

Fact: Am here for a Leicester, England reunion with 9 of my closest friends.

Fact: The ten of us have not ALL been together in one year, five months, and four days.

Fact: Yes, I do know the exact date that we were all together last. And yes, it was in England.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Accidental Canibalism

2010-10-05T19:32:00.001-06:00

I am sitting in my room in silence with not a sound but the TV in the next room. Since the NFL season has started, the ESPN logo has been all but burned into the corner of the screen, but then suddenly:

"I've been looking for someone to try my placenta. I've heard from some people that it's good for eating, but I--"

The shocking monologue is cut short as Cory flipped the channel.

"WHAT ARE YOU WATCHING?!?!"I shouted through the door in shock.

"I don't know! I was just flipping through the channels! I changed it as fast as I could!"

And we were never the same.

Just After Five

2010-10-04T17:57:00.001-06:00

Check the time stamp. Check it now. CHEEECCCCCCKK IT.

Now does it make sense that I am finally blogging after like...almost three weeks? Yes, it is true. I left work before it was dark out. I left work ALMOST exactly at five.

Anyway, today I helped the nicest couple from Brazil...and how I did respond to their kindness? Well, I all but shouted at them, naturally. I don't know what it is about people who have accents or who speak broken English, but the conversation went much like this:

"Is okay. Thank you."

"You're welcome! WHERE ARE YOU FROM?!"

"Um, we are from Brazil."

"OOOOH! BRAZIL! AWESOME! I KNOW A LOT OF PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN TO BRAZIL!"

"Yes."

"SO WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN UUUUTAH??"

"Just visiting. We are visiting family."

"OOOOOH!! RELATIVES! AWESOME! ENJOY YOUR STAY IN OUR COUNTRY!"

And thus it was that I embarrassed myself.

You might be asking yourself where in the world I have been. Well, I will tell you where I have been, my creepy followers: I have been sticking it to the man. Working. A big kid job. A steady income with benefits. I realized a couple weeks ago that I am now completely financially independent from my parents!

It's not very much fun. But I deal with it. If you don't believe me that I have been working a steady 60-65 hours a week, then listen to this: last week, I went grocery shopping. No, not for the refrigerator at home, but for the one in the break room at work. I am at work for 11-12 hours a day, which means basically all my meals are eaten in the break room or at my desk. At work I have: three boxes of cereal (I'm not sure how that happened), milk, orange juice, pears, string cheese, peanut butter and jelly, bread, frozen dinners, soup, yogurt, and crackers. Just at work.

I know, I really need to get out more.

I'm trying really hard to think of more funny things to say right now, but all I can think of is a nap, Reese's Puffs, and how House is on tonight! (Insert girlish squeal here (because I have a relatively deep voice and lack the ability to squeal...or scream like a girl (awesome triple parentheses)))!

Rogue Hair

2010-09-16T21:50:00.001-06:00

You guys, Cute Billiards Boy is cheating on me....with his GIRLFRIEND! The nerve. Is nothing secret, creepy crush not sacred anymore?? That's the thing about working in the main part of campus, you see everyone, whether you want to or not. And so, I had to steathily avoid Cute Billiards Boy and She Seems Really Nice Girlfriend not just once, but twice today. And on my turf -- my neck of the woods! We weren't even anywhere near the pool hall, what were they doing there?! I took a suuuuuper round about way and then ducked into my office. However, being sneaky and ducking quickly into your office is not effective when there is a random one quarter of a step into your office. Make your own inference.

Then, I had to venture out of my office again, only to have to hide behind a display of fragile objects while She Seems Really Nice But Now I Hate Her Girlfriend delicately picked something out of He's Still Cute Billiard Boy's eyelashes. Pleh, PDA--the sheer nerve. Get a mirror for that sort of thing!

Speaking of mirrors, I'm going to be quite frank with all you men out there: everyone has gross things about them, even women. And if any of your woman tells you that they are icky free, then their pants are on fire. We pluck. Yes, it's true. We have to pluck (or wax, though more painful) various things on our face: the brows, the 'stache, and on occasion, a random, rouge hair on the chinny-chin-chin.

Today, I had one such rogue hair, but did I have conveniently placed tweezers? Of course not. I tried in vain for several hours to get it with naught but my fingernails, but do I have fingernails? Noooooooooooo, becuase here's another confession: I'm a nervous nailbiter, like all the greats: Martha Stewart, Oprah, Rachael Ray...Okay, not really Martha. I don't know why I said Martha, I don't even like her. But I like Oprah, and she is Oprah, so no, Oprah does not bite the nails. Rachael Ray might, though.

In summary: no nails, no tweezers, rogue hair, crisis. I ceased to do work for a good ten minutes until I could find someone with tweezers. And guess what? I didn't find them. Time to improvise:

Tried the largest clip, "Nope...hmm, too big. Not enough maneuverability....and not enough thumb and finger straight to keep it open long enough...think the smallest one will work better?" I asked my co-worker.

"Maybe..." she replied, clearly not as worried about my problem as I would have liked.

"Hmm....nope, too small, not enough pressure, it just slips right through. Maybe the middle one..." Then I began to muse to myself about the current situation. I share an office with four other people. It's not a large room, and is filled with just one man, the rest being women...which is obvious. I do believe that hiring transvestites would be awkward but not against the rules -- we have to be politically correct here, folks.

Anyway, a lot of awkward things happen in that office, and they usually happen when my boss happens to venture in, "Ten bucks says ______ walks in right now." (_____ = boss, and _____ also = I want to keep my job)

A few seconds later, I heard feet shuffle in...I didn't care, I was focused. I now had a mirror in hand, biting the lower lip, chin turned up, eyes down, alligator clip in hand, going after the little devil. Determination, yes it was. Then, I felt eyes on me...turned, and:

"I'm not sure what is going on."

"What is going on, _______, is that I am woman. Hear me roar."

A Fad

2010-09-14T23:26:00.006-06:00

(Little letters...from me. A fad which I have never been partial to, they just seemed appropriate at the moment.)

--

Dear USU,

I waited for you to light up the A for 45 minutes. You never did. I hear you're replacing the bulbs. This is acceptable.

Dear Cache Valley,

I've never seen so many butt cracks...ever.

Dear Brain,

Stop hurting. In addition, stop causing the contents of my stomach to be ceremoniously dislodged via my mouth. 

Dear Leaves,

Don't change colors too fast, I always miss the photo opp's.

Dear Little Letters,

I've deviated from the fad and used punctuation in my little letters. It's no disrespect, it's just good grammar.

Dear Gross People Who Make out in Public,

Stop it. Now. And always.

Dear Old British Rock,

You rock.

Dear Man on the Phone,

I'm not sorry that I thought I put you on hold and started singing. I hope it made your day better.

Dear Little Letters,

This is probably the first and last time I will take part.

Dear Michael Jackson,
I know you're still out there. You will be found...alive.

Dear People Who Visit my Blog from England,

Thanks.

Dear England,

Sigh...

Cruddy Mud!

2010-09-09T20:22:00.000-06:00

Once upon a time, I was going to write and beautiful and eloquent poem about how I walked through/on mud today. I was going to write how the flip flops on my little feet gave no tread, and down I went...down, down, down into the mud. All over my pants, my little exposed toes, my hands that braced the fall...

The second I hit the ground, I considered bouncing right back up...okay, I tried bounce back up, but I simply slipped again. So I just gave pause, looked around...I was right outside the student center on campus, so of course there were plenty of people. But did I have a friend with me to laugh about it with? Nope. Instead, people walked by, trying not to look at me, but you know they were out of the corner of their eye. I really wish someone would have just laughed at me. And it wasn't like I could have just fallen, gotten up, and walked on like nothing happened, no. I had the evidence ALL OVER MY BODY.

And so, all I could do in attempt to alleviate my humiliation was to call LaDa and loudly tell her of my ordeal. Then I could laugh about it...I laughed LOUDLY, so that the people who were lucky enough to witness such a fall knew that I took it like a champ and just laughed it off.

THEN I had to go to the car shop to have my windshield replaced...and guess who gave me a ride back home in their brand new company car so that I could change? No one in particular really, it was the brand new company car and the muddy Hannah that I was getting at. Recall the gelato experience and you will understand.

Han out.

"Sometimes I tie a hair to a piece of lint and drag it around."

2010-08-29T20:14:00.002-06:00

Update: HEY! HEY, all you guys from all over the country/world that come to my blog only because you Googled, "Sometimes I tie a hair to a piece of line and drag it around," how's about clicking around? See if you like what you see/read. Maybe follow my blog. 'Cause right now you're just users. You're using me to find joy and laughter in the shell that is Marcel. And The Han doesn't like users.

So, go on. Click. Click, click, clickety, click around. Over there on the left? Yeah, click that "follow" button.

Did I just become one of those people who only ever want followers? Hm, sorry. But really, I'm witty, funny, and sharp as Michael Jackson's nose....did I just offend you with a Michael joke? Sorry. Not really, though.

Original post:

After a slightly tramatic experience like today, this cheered me right up...and I daresay it will make your day as well.

MARCEL THE SHELL WITH SHOES ON from Dean Fleischer-Camp on Vimeo.

Cheers to Meg.