Oh yeah, remember how I have a BLOG???

I bet I have all kinds of important things to tell you about including but not limited to: creative employment, plans for summer, long lost sisters and my ADDICTION to mint three musketeers! But instead let me tell you a story called "How That One Time When I Went to Pick Up My Sister At Lunch Today My Car Rolled Over and Played Dead!" It begins with me going to pick up my sister at lunch today, but stay tuned because there is a surprise ending.

The Many Adventures of Hannah Solo

Once upon a time in a galaxy far far away there lived a couple of witty and well coiffed smugglers enjoying the good life.


Then one day out of the blue they met an angsty young lad who was struggling to understand his new powers, and who needed help to rescue a girl he'd never met but who interestingly enough he'll end up being related too.

"I don't know kid, the last thing We need right now is more trouble. We've got enough troubles between the Empire, Jabba, and trying to keep this healthy bounce and shine. " Han told the Young Lad, tossing his hair.

"Yeah man, no way!" Glared Hannah with her trusty pal Chewbacca.


"Gee, Hannah Solo. What a commanding presence you have. You have beautiful eye makeup, and I like your cool blaster" commented the Young Lad to bashfully. "If not a rescue mission, will you at least join me for a romantic dinner?" he asked, quickly gelling his hair.

"Oh, Alright!" agreed Hannah, and away they went!


The End.



(I don't know why I kept my hair in a pony tail for this whole shoot but I promise I have a cute haircut. I also appear to have what they call in some circles: "too much time on my hands")

Ten Things That Made Me Happy In The Last Weekend

1) Getting my hair cut.
2) Watching the most recent episode of Project Runway on my cousin's tivo.
3) Getting to see Captain Sparklepants before her Americorp departure.
4) Having my hip abduction brace mistaken for a trendy belt.
5) Having my hip abduction brace mistaken for a Han Solo tribute.
6) New clothes.
7) Pedicures with Emily. I got my done with black polish, because I'm edgy now. You should see my bangs.
8) Going to Yoku Yoku, the best frozen yogurt in all the land! (At least in West LA anyway.)
9) Discovering the joys of Guitarhero. (Um, I don't want to get mad at anyone here, but WHY did nobody introduce me to Guitarhero before this? I think I might have found my life's calling.)
10) Seriously folks, Han Solo. Awesome.

Thoughts on the Draft

AARON: Man...it sucks that I can get drafted just cause I'm a guy.
DAD: Could be worse, you could have to go to relief society.
ME: Whatever, relief society is awesome, we get treats.
DAD: Yes but what you don't know is that in Elders Quorum we all sneak out and smoke cigars at the end.
AARON: Yeah, but its cool, they're caffeine free.

Thinking

About time we got that last post of the top eh? Other than my brief visit to the land of the food intolerant, I've been having a simply lovely convalescence. I thought I was going to blog all the time while I was stuck in bed, I thought I would have nothing to do except fill the internets will my pearls of wisdom. But instead my life got weirdly busy. A huge part of it was my fantastic friends who came around to keep me company. I think they must have set up a schedule: "Ok, I'll go on Monday and laugh at her bionic woman jokes and you go Tuesday and pretend you think her brace looks sporty too!" which was quite awesome. On top of that they kept leaving me with stuff to do. I'll tell you right now...need new books to read? Craving something good to eat? Perhaps you've noticed a lack of flowers in your life? GET INJURED! People are way nice to you when you're an invalid. Or maybe I should say more specifically that MY people are way nice to you when you're an invalid. Seriously though, I'm set for books until March I think. Good times.

Besides those delightful distractions I had other things to attend to. Life continues to go on even when your in the middle of a sick day. Or month. I have all these Life Decisions to make. You know. The capitalized kind. The kind that really determine your future and junk. Which is actually probably the real reason I haven't been writing much, now and before. I've been in this weird period of limbo since I graduated college where twice the plans I made ended up falling through at the last second. And while I don't necessarily feel bad about the way things went in either case, it doesn't change the fact that I'm still at square one. I still have to decide what I'm going to do this year, and for the rest of my life for that matter. I'm a girl who likes having a plan, and I feel weird that I don't have one fully formed right now.

Liz has me inspired at the moment, with her Year Of Living the Ideal Life. I guess my goal for the moment is to figure out what exactly my dream is that I need to be living. Girl band maybe? Who knows?

Gross

Dear Stomach bug,

Seriously? Right now? I'm not saying there's necessarily a good time to loose the ability to consume food, stand up or roll over with out projectile vomiting...but when you are already on crutches, are unable to kneel over the toilet bowl and must wear a complicated brace with a piece that goes right over your stomach seems like a particularly bad time. Go away. I hate you.

Incapacitatedly yours,

Hannah

Pop

Hi! How was your December? Mine was great! Christmas? Grand! Hello new ipod! And an extra special welcome to the family's shiny new wii. (I had no desire for a wii but holy crap are those things fun! Come over anytime and we'll go bowling.) And now, because I'm not exactly known for smooth transitions here is a gripping and dramatic tale to spice up your new year.

A little background for the three readers (I exaggerate) who haven't known me for eight thousand years. I have a little something called Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis. This is for those of us who believe in aging backwards so as to get the unpleasant aspects out of the way. Or some sort of autoimmune disorder, its hard to say. Regardless, when I was fourteen, had delightfully thin arms and was sporting an unfortunate unibrow, I had a double hip replacement surgery. You may think this sounds sad, but trust me, its been an amazing blessing in my life. I always have something to bond over with old people, I beep cheerfully in airport security, and I almost always win in who's got the coolest scar contests. Plus, you know. I can walk. Thats been pretty sweet.

Having major surgeries always come with pro and con lists. Pro: You can walk like a normal person! Con: You must never ever bungee jump. Pro: You're two inches taller! Con: You will never realize your Olympic dreams as a gymnast because you are not allowed to do the splits. Pro: You learned how to pluck your eyebrows! Con: Oh yeah, sometimes your hips might pop out of their sockets.

That last one was the biggie, the reason behind all my new found don't's, (don't cross your legs, don't sit indian style don't try to land a double front flip off the uneven bars...) Because at any moment an extreme position might send one of my new hips right out of their reinforced titanium sockets. I gravely agreed, and with great care and concern I stepped out into the world. It was worth the trade. I was very careful when I first got them, watching and waiting for the inevitable day when they popped out. But...they never did. Despite all the warnings of my surgical team (who could totally beat your surgical team), those hips stayed right where they were supposed to.

Flash forward eight years to 2006 when I bent down to pick up a plug in my apartment was jumping over a vat of electric eels on my motorcycle. Suddenly quite tragically, it happened. Hip popped. It was quite a moment. I actually had to army crawl over to my desk and pull down my laptop and instant message my cousin to have her call 911. (This part of the story is true, I realize it might be hard to tell with me.) It was very dramatic and quite inspiring. Couldn't have come at a worse time, smack in the middle of midterms, but I was confident that I would be able to pop the sucker back in and be back in school by Monday. Hahahahahahahahahaha! No. I didn't take into account the whole healing process. It takes about six weeks for a dislocated hip to heal, all the while wearing a stylish brace that goes around your waist, and connects to a separate piece that goes around your thigh. I was, I must admit, just a little dissapointed. Still, six weeks isn't that long, and before I knew it I was back to my usual skipping self. Older, wiser, and with a new story to add to the old repertoire.

Imagine my surprise a couple of days ago when I bent down to grab a soda off the bottom shelf and when I stood up I heard and felt that distinctive pop. I believe my exact thought was "Oh my gosh you have got to be kidding me. Again?" Which I eloquently verbalized thusly: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!"

My mother thought I had seen a particularly nasty spider. She came to my rescue anyway, as did the rest of my excellent family. (At one point as my parents held me on the kitchen floor and two emt's prepared to move me onto a stretcher while another put in an iv to give me some much needed morphine I suggested someone get the camera and snap a picture for a scrapbook. For some reason I was not taken seriously and so unfortunately I don't have any photos for you.) Anyway, I got to ride in an ambulance WITH sirens, and crack McDreamy jokes with the nursing staff and after a couple of tries got my hip put back in place!

And at the conclusion of this long and sordid tale I must ask you. Why oh why does this always happen in the lamest of ways? If I had known I was going to pop a hip on Friday I would have just gone skydiving. I mean honestly, grabbing a soda? So thats then end folks, six weeks in captivity. Fortunately I'm extremely long suffering. Expect to hear from me often.