sPrING BrEaK!!

Hi-ho, everyone.

It's that magical time of year. Spring is in the air and all the cool kids are headed down to Panama City Beach or Miami or Stone Mountain, Georgia or whatevs whatevs. You know... the hot spots.

 I will not be going to those places. Those places sound like the worst. It is a hassle getting down there, AND I have to make sure that my body is in good enough shape that I don't weep a single tear when I put on a bikini? Yeah... no thank you. I will skip that swimsuit and instead continue eating entire boxes of Lucky Charms a-thank you very much. 

Plus,

And there's something about the attitude in those places. It's just... how do I describe it? Everyone is trying to cram as much fun in at ALL TIMES because they don't want to be that one group of friends that isn't having as much fun as the other group of friends. 

Here's the dialogue I imagine:

"Great Scott, does that group have a beach ball? Andre! Get me a beach ball, immediately! He's putting it under his shirt like he's pregnant. It's funny, because he's a guy! He can't have children. Andre do you get their joke?! They're having more fun than us. I can feel it. DAMMIT ANDRE. WHERE. IS. MY. BEACH. BALL."

I think I would be under a lot of pressure to have fun. 

I'm not saying that it isn't a fun time. It probably is. In fact, I'm sure it is. But I feel about "cool" spring breaks the same way I feel about raves, cooking things from scratch and ironing my clothes:

That's a lot of hassle. 

Instead! I am travelling to the Great White North. That's right. Canada. Quebec and Toronto, to be exact. I know what you're thinking, "Hannah, Canada is a pretty far drive too. And you're travelling internationally. Isn't THAT even more hassle than Florida?"

Short answer: Yes.

Long answer: Shut uppa yo' face.

In the words of Homer Simpson: "Canada? Why would I want to leave America just to visit America, Jr.?"


Short answer: I don't know.
Long answer: Last name, beeswax. First name, none o' ya. 

I plan on looking fashionable and using my three phrases of French that I learned in Belgium. This is going to prove problematic BECAUSE:

I only wish my hair was long enough, because then I would wear it in the Canadian fashion.

Oh you better BELIEVE I would rock it. No one believes me that this is a hair trend. I will get photos. Then you'll see. YOU'LL ALL SEE.

In conclusion,

Canada. Not just for Canadians anymore. 

How to endure a long-distance relationship (kind of)

Man it has been a while since I've posted here. I've missed you, old bloggy. I'm done with my travels so I should be able to post more often. Right now I'm still catching up on work... so here's a half-thought out post that I wrote when I was strung out on caffeine and fiber. All I had eaten that day was two handfuls of chocolate-covered espresso beans and a box of those "Special K" cracker crisps. So... yeah. It's obviously well-written.

May I present:

Enduring a Long-Distance Relationship 101

I'm gonna level with you. I have no idea how to actually survive a long-distance relationship. These are just the things that I do. Or exaggerations of things that I wish I did. So to everyone who wants to end up like me (* crickets*) follow this advice precisely.

1) Drink cheap wine and go out with your roommate who also has a long distance boyfriend. Be sure to wear your cheetah coat.

This is an accurate representation of the cheetah coat. And for those who have never met me, this is also an accurate representation of my face and hair.

2) Buy a body pillow. Paint your significant other's face on it. Play love songs for him/her on the pan flute. 

*disclaimer: I haven't actually done this... yet*
**side note: Just noticed that James Franco is wearing Liz's spanks**


3) Plan a cute dinner date over skype and then end up eating frozen pizza together instead. Except you don't even eat it together because you foolishly forgot to put yours in the oven. So you end up eating frozen pizza at separate times. On camera.

4) Watch Sex in the City the movie and decide that you should start writing adorable love letters. Then decide that you can't be bothered and send him an email that has a photo of a cat attached.

hahahahahhahahha

HAAAAAAAAAAA.HAHAH. Ha.  

I'm actually laughing. Alone. Staring at my mellophone. I might compose a song about this cat. 

5) Contemplate getting a dog.

6) Abandon the dog plan.

7) Contemplate getting a cat


8) Decide that you don't need a cat's judgmental eyes watching you while you spend hours looking for photos of Steve Martin as a young man.

you're welcome

9) Watch cute couples walk by and narrow your eyes, menacingly. How dare they hold hands. 

10) Convince yourself that you're funnier than Kristin Wiig & Maya Rudolf's bi-racial lovechild. Record yourself reciting a scene from Bridesmaids (The airplane scene, for those who are curious) and decide to send it to your significant other. 

Other exemplary Bridesmaids quotes that I like to say:

-"Oh you're from MILWAUKEE? Oh I'm sorry! oh. Oh! Ohhh."

-"This is my husband. You don't have a husband."

-"At first I didn't realize that it was your diary. I thought it was a very sad, hand-written book."

11) Realize that it's weird and delete the recording without sending it to your significant other. 

aaaaannnd that's all I got. These are all things I've done in the last few months. I want to hear your additions. Particularly if they are actually real.

I'm gonna stop talking about T.V. for a second here...

Even though it pains me guys. It pains me. Because I could talk about my buddy T.V. for so long that you would all grow comically long grey beards, Fred and George Weasley- style.

I'm giving myself a high five for such an excellent Harry Potter reference.

aaaaaaannnnd THAT was my last T.V. reference. For this post, and this post only.

Because I found something glorious. Something so ridiculous and embarrassing that I assumed I threw it away months ago: A journal of my thoughts as I took a 23-hour plane ride from Brussels to Chicago. I recently dusted off the 'ol Moleskine that I was using to chronicle my trip and I found this list. You doubt? Behold the evidence of my nerditude!

At the time of its conception, I thought "plane thoughts" was a hilarious title. Like how "plain thoughts"  sounds like "plane thoughts." I don't know. It was a long trip and I had already watched the in-flight movies ("Water for Elephants" & "Rio") three times.

And now that I re-read these thoughts, I realize that I was totally right! And now I'm going to explain, thought by thought, why my revelations were all so awesome.

1) Planes are essentially fart chambers
Uh... yeah. I stumbled across this thought about 2 seconds into the flight. And once I started thinking about it I couldn't STOP. These planes have to be sealed air-tight. Therefore, where do the farts go? As soon as they close that door, you are trapped in a chamber of a hundred other people's farts.

It's distracting to think about. And now you're going to fixate on it the next time you sit down on a plane.

2) I'm almost positive I didn't screw the cap on my lotion.
Answer? I didn't. So that was awesome.

3) It's unacceptable that planes can't serve peanuts.
Okay I don't want to be all "What's the DEAL with airplane food" but come on. I also don't want to be all "Who else is tired of peanut allergies" but come ON.

I feel for you people with peanut allergies, I really do. I don't know what I'd do without my daily spoonful of peanut butter. But you're really cramping my style, airplane snack-wise. Peanut allergies must be running RAMPANT among Americans because I'm pretty sure peanut-related snacks are banned everywhere. I was just in a high school where the tables were labeled "this is a peanut-free table." Which totally sucks for the kid with peanut allergies, because it means he has to sit with the other peanut allergy kids instead of his friends. And I'm sorry but I can't imagine anything nerdier than sitting at the allergy table. Except maybe having to take gym with the other asthma kids.

Q: Hannah, did you have to take gym with the other asthma kids?
A: Mind your own business...... and yes.

Q: Was the gym teacher standing by, with your inhaler locked and loaded?
A: That would be a yes.

Q: Did you have to report to the nurse before and after every gym class for her to test your breathing?
A: Lets move on from my tragically uncool childhood.

Q: Did you once knock yourself out during gym on a volleyball pole because you were taller than everyone else and didn't see it coming?
A: I SAID LETS MOVE ON.


4) This is the end. And the man next to me doesn't seem to notice. 
Admittedly, I was being a bit melodramatic. But we were going through some serious turbulence and we were in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean!

I don't know about you, but there's always one point in the flight where I look out the window and think to myself, "This is the end, Hannah. Enjoy these last precious moments, because lets be honest: If you get trapped on an island "Lost" style, you are the Hurley of the group. Nothing substantial to offer, but you say "dude" a lot and you like to eat.

This doesn't count as a T.V. reference

And the guy next to me was just SLEEPING through it. Some business guy that probably flies a million times per year and never fantasizes about his life on an island, or the coconut phone he'd have to create once on that island. 

And speaking of that guy...

5) Whats the appropriate way to wake this man up?

This dude was not to be disturbed. He crossed both legs and arms, and then put a little eye mask on, and went to sleep. We're talking... 5 hour nap here. AND HE WAS ON THE AISLE. Oh and his tray table was down and his laptop was on it so no hope of hurtling his body. I spent a good ten minutes staring at his stupid little eye mask, willing him to wake up with just the power of my mind. It didn't work. 

Eventually he woke up on his own and in about 2 seconds my face was in his face asking him to please get up so I could pee. 

He looked pretty weirded out but... Haters to the left, amiright?

And finally,

6) If we sink into this ocean and all I have is this cushion, my arms are clenched around a thousand people's butts.

Sorry that some of these are so crass, and also quite dramatic. I think a lot about plane crashes and it's probably not something the people sitting next to me want to hear. OH WELL. Should have picked somewhere else to sit, eh business man? Ah, business man, the laughs we shared. Or at least... the laughs that I shared by myself. 

Anyway, how often do you think the airline changes those seat cushions? My guess is never. So essentially, if you crash land in an ocean and survive, your floatation device is a foam cube that has been cushioning butts for the last 5 years. (Speaking of fart chambers...) I won't go on. But you get the idea. 

So... yeah. I don't know if anyone else has these thoughts on airplanes (probably not the ones about imminent death), but I'd love to hear what goes through your mind every time you get on a plane. I'd also like to be reassured that I'm not being too harsh on people with peanut allergies.