little bird, have you heard, freedom lies, freedom lies.

plus: this is post 100.

minus: living alone is alone-some.

plus: triple-digit cash money in my pocket every night.

minus: exhaustion.

plus: lovely weather, lovely city.

minus: no one to go play in it with.

plus: a lot of familiar niceties in the workplace on the daily.

minus: social anxiety keeps it at that.

plus: beautiful sunshine dog here.

minus: beautiful sunshine boy there.

plus: the end of school is in sight.

minus: i won’t, i feel, have anyone in town to celebrate with when it comes.

my self-imposed status as a hermit is catching up to me, as i come to mildly dread nights off, because they mean nights i will spend at home, alone, with no one to call except someone who can’t come.

i am homesick for something that no longer exists, as it now resides in too many cities.

BOO, EMO KID.

xoxo me.

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.

unless you love someone, nothing else makes any sense.

i’ve been meaning to say something, but meaning has been something i’ve been struggling with.

i’m unsure where it stems from, and i’m completely in the dark about where it goes from there.

and just when i think something means something, or doesn’t mean anything,

the light turns off and there i am, bumping into the nightstand trying to find it.

the curfew had been lifted and the gamblin’ wheel shut down

here are a few things that i know to be as true as anything has ever been:

1.) Bob Dylan is the greatest artist of all time. I base this on several rock-star factors. One, he was/kind of still is an incredibly sexy man. Two, he is a poet. And better than most actual poets, at that. Three, he has a beautiful voice. In an interesting kind of way.

2.) I’m very excited to see my brother!!! I might even have time to spend with him! And he gets to come to the KUGS, and we’re going to go eat sweet potato fries and drink mac+jack with zach (ha, that rhymed) at the ’shoe, and take my dog to the park, and lol and lol and lol. And yes, I’m also coming to Eugene, though it might be a one-night engagement. So we’ll see how that all goes.
3.) Barak Obama = thumbsup. anyone who says otherwise has no compassion and no conscious or is completely ignorant to the desperate situation this country/world is really in. and also doesn’t give two shits about their children, or grandchildren, or potential children or grand children. because even if you’re going to kick it in ten years, you made those kids come into the world, so you’d better fucking leave it in decent shape for them.

4.) i love to paint.

5.) i love KUGS.

don’t speak too soon, for the wheel’s still in spin.

www.freerice.com

it’s a vocab test…and a way to help feed starving children!
thanks Zach, for finding this delightful gem in the interweb.

in other news,  i have got a god-awful sinus headache.

also, a kid at my school died yesterday from the Super Flu. this is getting seriously ridiculous.

i didn’t know the kid. but it’s like between the ages of 18 and 21, the drop-off rate is astounding.

fucking Death. why ya gotta get so close? get out of my fucking grille.

also, today was a day of random acts of kindness. in my direction, because i am a retard.

1. I dropped my bus pass out of my pocket. i didn’t realize it until i was on the bus. before we were   halfway to campus, a lovely fellow named Steve had called to say he found it. Then, he called me again tonight, saying he’d spaced, he’s just gotten home from soccer and he would stick the bus pass in the door. i came home from the store, and there is was. So, Steve….thanks.
2.  Then, when i came home from the store, i had a bunch of bags of fruit and stuff, so i was having issues opening the door and not letting the dog out, who was all riled up, presumably because Steve had been at the door. Anyway, an hour later, there’s a knock at my door. And it’s the neighbor (who’s name might be mike, but i honestly don’t know), letting me know i’d left my keys in the door.

Final Score:

Hanna : Zero.
Nice Boys: A grillion.
i think this is because, although i’m not currently living in the motherland, i’m still in the PacNW-

and we all know that the west coast is the best coast.

so tell those angry lezzies to stuff it, melissa. because wasting energy on tiny battles is not a productive way to enduce change in the world.

they’ll realize this when oregon does something else progressive and awesome (like civil unions and madatory insurance coverage of women’s health medications) and they’re still over there arguing about whether or not the lyrics to the fight song are oppressive to upper-middle-class white girls.

i love you like a fat kid loves cake.

c’est tout.

xoxo

you must raise your prayer to a shout.

well, that was strange.

when i make the pilgrimage from here to there, my spirits are always lifted in a most amazing way upon crossing the columbia river. i usually take a deep sigh and always smile like a moron.

because oregon is home.
but today, as i was coming down around the Chuckanuts, circumnavigating Lake Samish and eventually “Entering Whatcom County,” i sighed. because bellingham is kind of home.

i have friends here now. i think they actually like me.
and my house was beautiful when i arrived.

and zachary was wonderful and warm and comforting.

and everyone was cheerful, given the circumstances.

it was nice.
the thing is, travel sounds pretty cool. and there is something to be said about seeing new landscapes with your own ocular organs.

and sure, i may see the emerald valley of the locus of all things warm and comfortable and…belonging. which is, of course, not entirely true. this is made clear nearly every time i’m there.

but travel is still not quite so great in practice because you’re always having to say good-bye.

and there is nothing

(seriously. nothing)

worse than good-bye.

some day, i can only hope that i am lucky enough to have my family, my friends, and my career in the same state, at the least.

xoxo me.

the right is the hand you make….

…and the left is the one you were born with.

today life said “this is the best I can do for you”

unfortunately, it’s on top of a mountain, and it’s conquered with illicit substances and expensive gear, and plagued by extreme sports dudes and kids with slope-mommies in burton coats worth a month’s rent.

snowboarding is like liquor- it’s really a great time, but it doesn’t achieve much, and leaves you feeling worse the next day.

zachary is my best friend in the world. we tore it up today. and he pulled me along (literally) for most of a grueling afternoon. lets have a round of applause for mr. zachary warren!

also, for his parents for the lift ticket/gear rental…..
oh, little charity case….
i love the pacific northwest. living anywhere else is lunacy.

actually, i am lunacy. my life is lunacy. and it’s like a direct correlation-the better i seem to be at life, the worse i get at thinking/processing/existing in my own mind.

i feel like i’m riding a bike with my arms crossed over my chest.

and i’m really, really bad at that.

xoxo hanna