Wait... Really?

Uh so it seems I now have ten thousand views on here, and I didn't even notice. Well, erm, thanks guys...? Whoever/where ever you are....

I finally feel ready to make another post.

I don't know why it's taken me so long---maybe because of AP tests and how my creativity and drive has been sqeeezed out of me like toothpaste---but I am now ready to make another post on this good old site for public humiliation. Ah, blogs. What do do with you.

So much has changed since that last post... So much I would never believed if you had told me back in March. Oh dear. In a way though, I'm glad that there is a gap; it sort of illustrates this change that I've been going through.

Well, I'm not moving to Boston. That's big. I thought I was going to for my senior year, but alas I am not. This probably makes me the happiest out of all of the significant things that have happened these last few months because it so elegantly ties into everything else good that has been going on in my world.

We were all so positive that we were moving, but in the course of ten minutes my whole future changed for a second time and I saw myself living here and being able to stay in this homely valley. I can't imagine any other way of being now. Believe it or not, I'm actually glad it happened, as in the whole ordeal. Sure, it was the source of a lot of stress and worry (not to mention blunt fear) but it really did so much for the better in my world. I learned so much about myself and my peers through the process, and I even made a new best friend.

Today, it is my birthday. I'm pretty sure this is the best one so far because it has been so different than the others. For one, it's the first time my birthday has been at/during school. And secondly, I got to spend some wonderful time with the best friends and family anyone could ever ask for. They're all better than I deserve, that's for sure.

In such a contrasting tone to my last post, I would like to announce to the world that I, indeed, am happy.

I reject your reality and substitute my own.

Denial is a curious coping method. It does more harm than help, yet somehow it's too satisfactory to leave behind. Why do we deny? With some healthy Google searching and random forums, I've come up with the following sequitur:

• "Denying is the first step to accept unpleasant facts, and it varies, some take seconds and other take years."


• "It's to painful for some to deal with; causes depression in some."


• "Cuz it suks."


• "I believe that sometimes reality just hurts people and if you deny it then you don't have to deal with it. People like to blame others and not get real with themselves, it is their coping mechanism! Very tragic but true!"


• "They would rather live a lie."


• "Sometimes people are too stubborn to accept reality because they know the reality of what really is will either be something they don't like or will hurt them terribly. No one likes feeling uncomfortable or being hurt, so we deny reality as a type of defense mechanism. "

You can sure as purple drink deny an event, but I've realized you can't deny denial. So why not face it here for the entire internet community to see? That's the spirit.

Sometimes, I lose hope.

Farewell, dreams.

Dem Wisdom Teef.

On Friday, I had the wonderful opportunity to undergo minor surgery to extract my WISDOM TEETH. That's right. All four. All impacted, meaning that they were still in little balls in my jawbone and hadn't yet come out and grown their own roots. They are much more painful to extract that way. I'm sure that you can tell it's been a party around here. THE PROCESS: What I can recall. I flopped myself into the chair, saw Caroline passed out in a cubicle next to me, and made some jokes with the anesthesiologist who laughed with me while rudely sticking a 3 1/2 inch long needle in my hand. And wiggling it around. And digging it in. It looked really gross. Then she started pumping some clear fluid into my veins and I put my head down. I think it took maybe ten seconds for me to go out. Next thing I know, I hear voices. It was really odd because I knew time had elapsed (two and a half hours, actually) but my brain had no recollection to make the assumption off of. I don't think that makes sense. Anyway, I remember giving people thumbs up before I opened my eyes, then finally looking out of the window while my mom told me I had to move to another chair. Then I remember feeling relieved that I had moved/didn't have to move anymore. A few minutes later I opened my eyes again and saw that the window was in a different spot, so I asked/groaned through cotton how it had moved. My mom told me I had stumbled and been dragged over into another chair. Half of my head said.... oh yeah, while the other half didn't believe it. I sat in the chair for a certain amount of time---don't ask me, I have no idea how long. I remember the news was on the TV above me, and I saw that the President of Egypt had finally stepped down. "MUUUH-BRRR-AAAGGHHK! Ehhhhhh Gnnnne!" I remember I kept trying to talk to the ladies all around me about it, and one of them said something about how it would effect the whole world, especially England. Then I remember I was texting and they were all laughing about that. Imagine some old lady chuckling, shaking her head and saying Teenagers. Little Rascals.

The anesthesiologist was jokingly-mad at me because apparently I had made her pretty braid fall out AND she had to miss her lunch break. Caroline and I had the most difficult wisdom teeth that they said they had ever extracted because they were WAY high and tucked away. Caroline, in fact, was lucky that she didn't lose her molars. So they just drilled and drilled, cracked and cracked, dug and dug. My sister said that not only we would have shards of jaw bone up in there for years, but if we got punched or bumped in the face our jaw would break pretty easily until the strength came back. Cheer stunting is going to be FUNNNNNNN. Each of us took a little over an hour, which is supposedly horrifically long. I wouldn't know, of course, but yeah. Then some lady helped me back into the waiting room, where I took that lovely picture above with my mom's phone and sent it to Franny.

Um.... I remember getting in the car. I remember faintly wanting a "VNNNNUUUUHH" (vanilla) frozen custard, recieving it and promptly spilling it all over myself and getting really mad at my mom. Then I remember leaving Designer's Resource downtown (my mom had to pick something up) and repeating, "How did we get here?" while my mom studiously ignored me. I have no idea how I missed the 35 minute freeway drive down TO Designer's Resource, or waiting for my mom while she went in, or the 20 minute drive home from there. My brain just goes: High fived a nurse-->Got in

the car-->Custard-->Leaving design store-->stumbling out of the car and walking into my house.

Then I was mad at another something or other while my mom reminded me that I was going to be a responsible, good patient. She made me get into her bed and turned on the TV. We don’t have TV. Really, we don’t. My mom doesn’t believe in cable or satellite. More than half of our channels are Mexican or Korean or something, and the other half are pure craft and jewelry crap. It really sucked. And the two shows that I was maybe okay with looking at, but not really watching (That 70’s Show and something else I can’t remember) were all fuzzed out. My pain medicine wore off suddenly. I don’t know if it was so painful that my eyes were watering, or if I was crying. But I’ll tell you, she hurt like a B. I just stared at the wall for hours until suddenly my sister Emily was there saying that she could see I was in pain from just looking at my eyes, and suddenly I was swallowing more pills than an addict.

Yeah, so it was fun.

Around nine PM I'm pretty sure my friends came over. I remember playing with the cat, um...... playing with the cat............................ Man, I really don't remember anything else. Shoot. Wow. I have no idea what happened. That's so surreal.

I don't even remember what I did yesterday. All I remember is eating pudding and Evan came over and brought me sherbet, which was sublime and tastes like Fruit Loops. I think I left the house once. Maybe.

Alright. I can’t write anymore. The Lortab is kicking in and I’m too high. I have to go call someone, probably Franny. Stay tuned in for Dem Wisdom Teef: Part II.

UPDATE: Shortly after this was posted, I cut off a chunk of my own hair. I think it was an accident.

I'm sick of having all of these drafts.

....So I posted them. I've actually written quite a few things on here, yet haven't had the nerve to publish them/have been too lazy to finish my thoughts/forgot about them.

If you can find them (some are from quite a while ago, and since Blogger organizes them by date---which I like---they're scattered across the last 8 posts or so.) you can have a gold star.

All the Single Ladies, All the Single Ladies

To update my readers (*cough* Guys? ....Hello? Anybody here?):

1. I'm growing out my bangs.
2. I decided that I love school because I have the coolest friends in the world.
3. I'm still single.

Inexcusably, horrifyingly single. Heck, it seems like we all are! What's with this world?

Because I'm feeling strangely analytical today, and perhaps I need some stability in my life, I'd like to take some time to offer a few equations:

T α 1/D

T= Time left in junior year

D= Desperation

T α Rf

T= Amount of MicroFoaming Toothpaste used

Rf= Rabies Factor: How much you look like you have rabies

M α H

(This one's only for a select few. H ≠ Hannah, or Hollberg. Never fear.)

Oh the irony (this one goes out to Françoise) that I'm making mathematical equations here. Seeing as in math today... Yeah. My hands are still shaking.

I may still be single, but at least I have guy friends. Phew! And I'm lucky enough to get to go to Junior Prom with the coolest one on Saturday -- thanks, Evan! I'm super excited.

Sometimes, I'm kind of a tool.

Honestly, I'm not exactly sure of the true definition of a "tool," but it's been used lavishly around me recently and my mind is pretty hooked on it. Best to get it out.

I have this brain-mouth thing that doesn't always work. Honestly, it hardly works. I have doubts. You just have to realize that sometimes I'm going to say something that I don't mean, or makes me look like a fool, etc. I don't try to, I swear. It just happens. I am so, so very sorry.

On a similar note, after I get my wisdom teeth out here in a few weeks, I'm going to lock myself in my room for the following 3 days. Having seen the after effects on someone else, I don't wish to burden society like that. I'm sure that I'll be even more high and crazy and destructive. This is what I'm going to print out and put on my door:

HANNAH.

YOU ARE HIGH.

YOU ARE MEAN.

DO NOT LEAVE THIS ROOM.

DO NOT TOUCH YOUR PHONE.

YOUR FACEBOOK PASSWORD HAS BEEN CHANGED.

SINCERELY,

NORMAL HANNAH.

But really, to those of you I have said something insensitive to, been sarcastic to, made fun of, etc. I am truly sorry. My thought process is broken. My brain has been hiding from me. I didn't mean it. I'm not thinking of a specific instance here, but I have to say that it's been a reoccuring instance. Please, ignore me.

What do I need?

If you're bored, and possibly procrastinating (hey, I guessed right!) you may want to try this. Go to Google and type in your name + needs.

Example: "Hannah needs "

Well Google, what do I need? Here are my top 15 favorites, not in any particular order.

1. Hannah needs to freely explore her world.
2. Hannah needs a farm visit.
3. Hannah needs a Foster home.
4. Hannah needs a good break.
5. Hannah needs Roomies! (Actual inflection)
6. Hannah needs a photo of a Marine Corps dress, blue buttons. (Oddly specific)
7. Hannah needs food, walks, and a steady supply of tail-scratches.
8. Hannah needs a hug.
9. Hannah needs some alone time.
10. Hannah needs $3 million.
11. Hannah needs your money.
12. Hannah needs some sensitivity training.
13. Hannah needs to die off or something.
14. Hannah needs to tan.
15. Hannah needs to be loved.

Isn't that pathetically revealing? I thought so. Apparently I need to open up to the world (perhaps through a farm visit), be more sensitive. Then and then I can be tan, loved, and rich! If that doesn't work, I just need to die off or something.

This is almost as funny as the controversial Google Suggest. I suggest that you try it. I've even set another one up for you about the human race! Just click on *Update*.

Through this experience I have not only learned that a surprising number of Hannahs are Jewish, but that if people actually took Google's advice, we would be a very bewildered, uncertain people with few/no philosophical values.