i never thought i’d miss a hand so much.

this was a much better easter than the last.

less exhausting, more full of love and acceptance.

more full of family. not mine, but family nonetheless.

and i like your family. a lot.

surrogate families are important to the displaced.

i’ve been gathering them for years.

they’ve recently made their presence known with kind thoughts and welcome gifts since i graduated.

i appreciate each and every one.

and i appreciate you.

and everything about you.

and even though i can’t always have everyone close to me at once,

and frequently have to have those around that i wish were not,

my life is very beautiful.

the sprouts on my lilac tree in the afternoon when i wake up with wine and a smoke,

the sound my typewriter makes when i copy down particularly lovely text messages,

the smell of my tiny dog after he’s been sleeping quite soundly,

the way it feels to wake up in good company,

the sunlight, but moreso, the darkness.

or that time just before the darkness, when it’s still light, but you know that night is encroaching.

sunrises over the church on the next block,

(much as i am growing to dislike the rising sun in general.)

the future.

progress.

blind and blatant and over-used optimism.

the use of lighters.

reading short stories on the porch and drinking porter.

hiding in the corner of the darkest bar in town and drinking porter.

standing in the kitchen in my cartoon underpants drinking porter.

stolen internet.

sewing.

vinyl.

____________________________________

yes, my life is fine.

sometimes i live in the country, sometimes i live in the town

i’m still alive.

my friends are nice.

my house is my haven.

my dog is more popular than i am.

sleep is rare.

the world is cold, in most ways.

but my furnace is fixed.

marriage is ridiculous.

commitment is impossible, but everyone should get a running shot.

i love my job.

and i miss my family.

and will get to see them soon.

<3 me.

yours is the only version of my desertion that I could ever subscribe to

here are a few great things:

-indiana.

-interpol.

-wheat thins. (esp. when you can stand in front of your refrigerator with a box of wheat thins tucked under your arm and systematically go through the condiments and other assorted fridge fare and dip them in anything you notice.)

-family.

-specifically, my family. more specifically, my hero/grandfather. what a fucking man. DAMN. he is, i believe, mostly responsible for any awesomeness that i bear. or any of us, really. him and my own father. Mom, we got real lucky for a family full of hard-luck white-trash/ immigrants and others searching for political/religious/linguistic asylum.

-public radio.

-making friends.

-having a job that makes me not really care if it’s a work day or not, because i know it will be funny either way.

-bourbon.

-beer.

xoxox

all ya can do is do what you must, yeah, you do what you must and you do it well.

i must:

continue to know that exactly who i am is who i am supposed to be. and that’s good enough.

continue to not settle for the lesser, lazier, more selfish parts, and aspire to do right by those around me.

continue to take care of those around me.

remain invested in this quarter until it’s actually over.

work, no matter how much i hate it.

save money, no matter how much i hate it.

participate in the system, no matter how much i hate it.

speak honestly and demand the same of others.

do what i’m good at.

continue to attempt to quell my outrageous jealous streak.

and admit that there are some things that will never, never, never be me.

and maybe i wouldn’t want them to be me, anyway.

__________________________________________

i never thought i’d look to something i’d heard from pat avery, but….

above all, i have to continue to live truthfully within the given circumstances.

<3 see you all on sunday.

something’s lost, yeah, but something’s gained.

my life is ridiculous.

i feel like those glossy boards we had with pictures on them, and you could lick all the hideous little plasticy-rubber cut-outs of people and furniture and two-liters and accessories.

like there’s a little one of a little girl on a bike, or dressed all in black in an apron with a pen in her hair, or with a backpack on with a pair of beat-to-shit trainers clipped to the back. and you just pick the background (downtown, restaurant, campus) and stick me on and then there i am. and you call it living and you call me a person and it’s just like reality except it’s completely static, just waiting for the spit to dry so you can be released.

ha. i just likened my college degree to spit.

but it’s not so bad.

and in twenty-four hours, there will be no more backgrounds i can’t be stuck to.

but i do really, really wish i could spend my birthday like we spent melissa’s.

and i really wish i could wake up on saturday like we did on january first.

because that was a pretty great time.

to destroy is always the first step in any creation.

here are a few things are a funny, and a few that aren’t.

funny things:

1.) fine dining. here is a silly part of society.

the entire concept of the absolutely excessive treatment of food is kind of moronic. but i can value it as some people’s art form. however, the idea of going to an “upscale” establishment is a bit like going to church. you put on your sunday best to impress the other diners. but the difference is that in the restaurant world, the kids putting the stuff together are dirty-fingered ragamuffins like me, and non-english speaking twenty-year-olds named (really) Juan, Manuel, Wilmer and Raul. my stained apron, my use of the vernacular, and my ways of making things more efficient are only incorrect because they aren’t stylized in the way that some rumpled geriatrics think they should be. come on, old people. i’m paying for your social security, while you’re leaving me change and sticky butter-pat papers face-down on the table. besides, your time is up anyway.

why complicate everything with formalities that you, or someone like you, have constructed?

2.) My coworker’s attitudes towards me. everyone that i work with thinks i’m an absolutely ghettotrash idiot. and granted, i am not the most eloquent speaker. i stutter sometimes, i stammer frequently, and i invert words within a sentence like syntax is just a set of vague guidelines.

but in reality, i’m almost done with my college degree.
which none of them have.
and i never say things like “supposabley.”
and i don’t pluralize with an apostrophe. (“egg’s,” por exemplo)
and i can spell “apostrophe”
and i speak several languages.

and i’m literate.

sigh. maybe someday i’ll drop a knowledge bomb on them.
or continue to contain my laughter every time they end a sentence with “at.”
suckers.

now here are some not funny things:

a.) that thing that you think is funny and how it makes me feel. and how i never thought it was funny when you felt like this.

b.) the future in general. i feel really, really constricted by everything and terrified by how that makes the exact present seem less valuable. it’s like watching a storm coming, but knowing that even if you get into the cellar, you can’t be saved. so you just stand watching the twister coming, mouth ajar, marvelling at the force of it all.

which brings me to….

c.) mayanmar/burma and the cyclone/hurricane that hit them. and while tools in team-related t-shirts are tipping back coronas and taking tequilla shots with straw sombreros on, there are 10,000 fewer people in the world, which puts at least ten times that many people in absolutely soul crushing pain. and we could not care less until sheryl crow and oprah go over there to save the natives with coloring books and makeovers.

in conclusion-

i’m a little conflicted. because in some ways, yeah, i see the irony in everything. and i see when things don’t make sense in a silly kind of way.

the difference between comedy and tragedy is that in comedy, no one is taking themselves seriously- no one ever gets actually hurt or truthfully angry.

and some things are like that. jobs, busywork and kids in class who use the phrase “in so far as” literally every single class period for an entire quarter. has not missed a day yet.

and some people are in more pain than i could ever imagine right now. however, i do not think this makes my feelings any less valid.

i’m hurting. and just because it’s not as much as other people, or even as much as you think you’re hurting, does not make it incorrect. or able to be “gotten over.”

that’s part of that whole “mental disease” thing.
and that whole “being a human” thing.

xoxo me

alright, brothers and sister, gather around. we must drown ourselves in the reflecting pool.

here’s a question i pose to the universe….

i get that i have a lot of blessings- my amazing family, my ability to win people over without actually knowing what they’re talking about or even caring, and all of the people who actually like me in spite of this.

but my drawback is that i’m really materialistic. so this whole being-really-poor-thing is getting really old.

i know i can’t complain to you all….you gave me the charm, the brains and the blue eyes. and you taught me that being poor is kind of fun and silly.

so maybe i should go camping. or sit at the airport and watch the airplanes take off. or go to the drained resevoir to look for treasure. or any of those other great things we did on a shoestring budget.

some days, they last longer than others.

baaaaaaaaaaaaah.

i’m inside-out. all yucky and red and ugly.

like, hey world. here are my innards.

like that exploded bird zach and i walked past in the woods.

ew. i have never felt so filthy as i did after seeing it’s little guts all strewn about and bloated.

sick.

mmmmm i don’t feel well.

on the upside, today in the computer lab, i ran into my friend aline! i haven’t seen her since she left for equador last summer. she is a very amazing and beautiful and intelligent woman. just thought i’d share that.

because for all my bitching, it’s not really that bad.

The same tale sends them all to bed, and wakes them in the morning.

the day before yesterday, i went to see cat power on a comp ticket in reserved seating.

yesterday, my phone fell out of my pocket on my way home from the bus stop, and someone called zach’s phone to let them know that it was found. i got it back within an hour of losing it.

today, i am venturing to seattle with the warrens to see the dalai lama, and dave matthews, and tim reynolds, and some other surprise opener.

and as always, my true loves continue to overlook my glaring flaws, fits of rage, lack of rational thinking and general selfishness.

so, fear not all- i am being taken care of, perhaps moreso than i deserve. the people in the world boggle my mind. i am forever in debt to the creatures of this earth.

i love you all very much.

xoxo hanna

she let her head fall back, thinking she heard the music of angelic harps

alright, this is it.

it has recently become clear to me that something i’ve taken pride in my whole life is simply not an artform i actually excel at. and no matter how many times i try to make it so, and once i’ve made it, attempt to convince others of it’s worth, i am always dismayed by the negative reaction.

blogs are pretty much stigmatized these days, for obvious reasons. simply having a wireless router in your shitty apartment does not necessarily give you the right or the talent to publish your thoughts in a public space (or lack of space, whichever you consider the internet to be.) and at times, i feel really silly for still using one, publically, no less. i take great comfort in knowing that very, very few people actually read it.

but i do it because it is as close to publishing as i will ever get. and the only readers are people who know me, and give my words merit on that basis. and i think i can really get myself to accept that this is alright. it’s not what i wanted, and it doesn’t make me feel good, but it’s ok.

i think.