Tag!

Oh man, I'm like the slow kid who gets tagged on the playground and just stands there while all the other kids run away, but then they kind of stop because the kid's just standing there, and everyone is wondering, so is the game over...? And then the kid finally gets it and starts kind of jogging but the rest of the kids are already playing tether ball. Which I guess is my way of saying I got tagged a while ago by Ms. Liz, and then didn't post anything. So even though the rest of my blog friends are totally playing four square now, I'm gonna start running. As far as I remember the rules are this: Write six random facts or habits about yourself, and then tag six people to do the same.

1. Last year I got blockbuster online, the net flicks knock off where you can trade the movies that have been mailed to you for a free rental at blockbuster. In theory this was the ideal situation for me, I love watching movies, I love getting mail, and I could still go and see my blockbuster boyfriend Roger. (Dear Roger, (Check it out! My first mid-blog letter! And also my first mid-parenthetical-parenthetical.) Remember all those times I made hilarious jokes at the register and you pretended not to think they were funny but you could never quite keep a straight face? And how you always rolled up your t-shirt sleeves like greaser, except the rest of you looked normal? Good times. Love, The girl who could never find her blockbuster card) A typical situation would go like this: Tuesday: Open up mailbox to find three movies, Wednesday-Thursday watch movies, Friday: Take movies to local store, trade them for three other movies, chat up Rog for a minute and leave. Then several weeks later after they had already charged me for the full price of the dvd, I would remember I never returned those movies I got, take them back, hang my head in shame while I got my refund, and then leave. But the thing is that Blockbuster will only give you two months to return those videos before you own them forever. I'm not going to tell you how many movies I now own because of this (12), but I will give you some of the more embarrassing titles: "Truth About Cats and Dogs" (gag), "Step Up", "Ms. Potter", and a lot of other ones, but I can't think of any other ones I didn't like. But seriously, the truth about cats and dogs might be the worst movie I've ever seen. So um, I guess that was a long winded way of saying I apparently am incapable of returning movies on time.
2. I can say the alphabet backwards really fast. This is something I taught myself how to do in the third grade and remains to date one of my greatest accomplishments.
   
3. I have a gambling addiction. The fact that I have never actually gambled in no way lessens the severity of this disease. My responses to Celebrity Poker Showdown, McDonald's Monopoly, Vegas style Solitaire, and regular Monopoly are more than enough evidence.
4. "Downtown" by Petula Clark is hands down my favorite song. It doesn't matter how sad I am, how worried or stressed or whatever, as soon as I hear those magic words: "When you're alone and life is making you lonely you can always go....downtown!" I immediately give a teary little smile. By the end I'm belting and doing jazz hands and the people around me are reflecting on what a truly embarrassing friend I am. It doesn't even make sense, because I've been downtown and its not all that uplifting. Even still, the song remains a soothing tonic to my troubled soul.
5. I love spinning. Not the kind where you're on a stationary bike at a gym going super fast and standing and sitting and killing yourself and all...just, like spinning. Like in a chair, or on a swing or on the teacups back before they made them slow and lame. This is kind of an offshoot of my enduring love for roller coasters. I'm never happier than when I'm plummeting at breakneck speeds before being catapulted in some unknown direction. I really like having my sense of gravity thrown off.
6. On my sixteenth birthday I accidentally died my hair pink. Your next question is obviously, did I then sing Beauty School Drop out...I regret to inform you that I did not. Instead I quietly freaked out until we figured out a way to fix it. I often kick myself for that lost opportunity.

I now tag anyone who feels like doing this, and no one who doesn't, because the slow kid totally doesn't get the rules of this game.

Still Tuesday

Oops! I made it a goal to post everyday this week, and while it is 11:57 pm as I type, I still count this as Tuesday so I better post quick, because the clock is ticking. I don't have anything clever or funny to say (which is kind of the norm these days), so we're going to use this as a hopefully informative post. What are good games to play at a ward halloween type party? We're having one on Tuesday and on Sunday I was casually informed that as part of my new calling I'll be incharge of games on Saturday...so, what's your poison? Bobbing for apples? Donuts on a string? Halloween dance off? (I'm not entirely clear on how thats different from a regular dance off, but I imagine it has something to do with the costumes.) Do you see why I should probably have help? Also...prize suggestions? Happy Tuesday in any case!

*Edited to add: Woo hoo I made it! Also, blogger thinks it's only 11:54, which makes me think this computer is kind of a nervous nellie.

Doctor Who?

So, hello out there. I...am a bad blogger. You have no idea how tragic this is. I love blogs. I read a lot of them. If you have a blog then chances are I read it. And so it was with great confidence that I began this blog to tell all the fabulous stories of my life. And then never ever ever wrote in it. I mean really, cake quizzes? This isn't myspace people. And so in an effort to increase my blog output (which I know, the demand for that is like, so high) lets introduce a new segment I like to call....



"PICK A CAREER FOR HANNAH THAT WILL INCLUDE COOL OUTFITS AND HEALTH INSURANCE AND HOPEFULLY A GOOD DENTAL PLAN AT LEAST UNTIL A WEALTHY BENEFACTOR SHOWS UP AND WHISKS HER AWAY TO A LIFE OF LUXURY JUST LIKE IN PRETTY WOMAN EXCEPT FOR NOT BECAUSE I DON'T LIKE RICHARD GERE AND I DON'T BELIEVE IN PROSTITUTION!"



(I'm working on a slightly pithier title)



Once upon a time I went to college. I stayed there for eight thousand years. They gave me a degree. At the end of this lengthy and expensive (though not as expensive as it could have been thank you public school system!) process I still have to decide what to be when I grow up. Here is a list of possibilities I've come up with so far:



1) Writer
2) Doctor
3) Retro type diner owner
4) Sleuth
5) CIA Agent
6) Astronaut
7) Lawyer
8) Zoologist
9) Vigilante
10) Matlock
11) Rock star
12) Computer Hacker
13) Computer Hero, or rather the Anti-Hacker
14) Counselor
15) Artist



Lets explore some of these possibilities shall we?



Career: Doctor

Outfit: Authoritative Lab coat, comfortable scrubs in traditional blue or in trademark Addison pink. Stethoscope. (This would be a good place for me to include a photoshopped picture of myself on a doctor's body, but I am not gifted in the ways of photoshop, plus that would mean I spent way too much time on this post.)
Projected Earnings: Um, lots. Lets pretend I’m a surgeon. Surgeon's make the most yeah?
Location: Oh, lets see, it could be anywhere, Chicago, Seattle, Los Angeles, New Jersey, I might even start out in New York but end up in a small mountain town in Colorado where I open up a free clinic and try to make sense of life in the face of death and tragedy. Possibly even frontier style.
Excitement factor: Extremely high. Can’t you just imagine me all dolled up in surgical scrubs, asking my trusty scrub nurse Grace to please get me more suction because unless I find the source of the bleeding this man is going to die! I need a thoracodomy tray! And a scalpel! And SUCTION, GRACE! FOR THE LOVE OF PETE GET ME MORE SUCTION!

Best Part: Hmm there’s a lot to work with, the money, the prestige, the sweet possibility of impromptu musicals, but probably getting to see George Clooney around the office everyday.
Worst Part: The fact that George left the show in 1999. Also Medical School.
Projected Outcome: I would start out pretty strong but would quickly lose steam thanks to the lack of sleep. This would cause me to no longer blow dry my hair causing it to lose luster and shine. Unwilling to cope with this loss I start experimenting with different chemical compounds, eventually coming out with my own line of hair care products, which naturally leads to a show on Bravo. But lets be honest, that fame would go right to my head and before I know it I would develop some sort of addiction, most likely cheese. After a rapid decline my other attractive and well coifed friends would have an intervention for me and send me to a star studded rehab center. There I would form an alliance with Britney and Lindsey, vowing to take charge of our lives and change for the better. After swearing off the sauce Lindsey goes to back to school and eventually gets a prestigious fellowship at Harvard for her work in the field of Genetics. After a few classes and a couple of long heart to hearts with Madonna, Britney figures out the whole parenting thing and is able to restart her career. Unwilling to leave her children to go on tour she opens the Britney Spear’s School of Pop, for kids who want to learn how to sing good and how to do other things good too. At the ribbon cutting ceremony a man has a heart attack...or um, like, stops breathing. You know. Something medical. And I SAVE HIM! Which reminds me of my original ambitions to be the worlds greatest cardiologist...or respiratory surgeon. Whatever, the important thing is that George and I totally make out in the end.

Tune in next week to see what life would be like if I was Matlock!