Dear royal wedding,

Are you worth it? I can't decide whether I want to get up to watch you in real time.  Five am in my pjs in the campus center? It could be cool. 

But there's also the fact of getting out of bed at that hour. 

And I have yet to study for my tech exam.  (I cannot wait a minute more for tech to be over.  Too bad I have to make it through a whole week.)


love,
hannah

Dear Cerezita,

I hate you right now.  I chose you -- Why? What was I thinking? You are impossible!

And I hate you for that right now.


love,
hannah

Dear King Tut,

Where is your giant golden head? It's not in Egypt, it's not in Minnesota? Where can I see it?

By the way, well done for such a short period on the throne. 


love,
hannah

Dear Louder Than A Bomb,

The movie.  You may never get to see it, but should you get the chance, please go.  It's fantastic.  And there are tiny threads that connect me to that movie all over the place.  Really, go see it. 

I'm tempted to post poems and interviews all over this post, but I'm going to restrain myself.  I'm just going to give you the ten minute trailer that tempted me for a year.  And then you can tease yourself with it and hunt down a place to see this movie. 

In other news, I have eaten five apples today.  And I'm thinking a lot, and writing very little. 

That's going to have to change. 


love,
hannah

Dear River Song,

I am more excited than ever to know your story! I want to know! The Impossible Astronaut was awesome. 

So excited for more Doctor Who.


love,
hannah

Dear theater building,

You are so many things.  You are a place to learn, in class, but that's too simple.  You're a place to meet.  You're a place to have uncomfortable conversations.  You're a place to accidentally let your friend know that's it's going to be an uncomfortable conversation.  You're a place to support friends.  You're a place to watch their performance.  You're a place to stalk professors.  You're a place to pass on messages between professors and students.  You're a place to gather.  You're a place to share a meal.  You're a place to hold a seder.  You're a place to stay when security never comes by to kick you out.  You're a place to relax with after dinner conversation.  You're a place to roll around on exercise balls because security still hasn't come. You're a place to leave, knowing that you'll come back very soon. 

You're the place to be on a Friday night. 

You're the place that became home, and you're pretty bizarre and wonderful.


love,
hannah

Dear 14 days,

You're going to pass by in the blink of an eye.  As always: exhilarating and terrifying.  (There are too many terrifying elements in my life right now.)  14 days and then the semester is complete.  There are no research papers to write this round of finals, which almost makes this semester scarier.  I know how to write papers, I don't know how to construct boxes that obscure actor's bodies or develop feminist performance (Actually, I may know how to do that). 

I made the annual big map of what's left.  The best part? One class entirely drops out after Monday.  Thank god!

The only problem is that I didn't factor in time to write and complete applications for jobs/internships/those things that I need to make summer more than me sitting on the couch.

Oh, summer.  You're a joyous mess.  And 14 days away.


love,
hannah

dear computer generation,

We are a generation taught how to use computers by people who don't know how to use computers.  It's unfortunate.  Our children will not have this same problem. 

It's unfortunate to sit through a lesson that partly included "How to save," as in go to "File" and then "Save."

I think I've got that one covered, thanks. 


love,
hannah

Dear movie trailers,

You make me feel hopeful.  There's something about seeing just a little bit of a film that gets me going.  I want to run out, grab a camera, and film all the corners of my life.  And then pair it with a cute indie pop song, and then we have my life as a movie trailer. 

...Summer project? I'm making a list of those now.

The movie trailer thing started when I found out that Louder Than A Bomb is showing in the Cities this weekend, and I'm kind of determined to go.  Check it out.  If you want to join me, you know where I'll be.

I love sending a flurry of emails, and then just sitting watching my inbox, anticipating the responses.  It's eerie.

Happy Passover!


love,
hannah 

Dear strike,

You're a very fulfilling waste of time.  I say this lovingly, because in fact you are not a waste of time at all.  Except that you do help waste time that could be spent doing academic things, but isn't that how the entire past month has been? (It might be time to get back to work.)

I like strike because while it can take an entire month to put a set together, it takes only a matter of hours to take it all apart.  I love the part when you look up from your work and everyone is buzzing about, immersed in their own task, and while they are not consciously watching the other work going on around them, they seem to know where the next person is working and silently work with and around them. 

Also hammering nails to make reusable 2x4 is awesome.  I used to pity the people who got that job, but that was one of the best parts of today's strike. 

So, 12 Ophelias is over, and while there's much to say about that, I'm not sure I want to reflect here.  There's a lot scurrying around my brain, things that mean a lot for how my future plans look.  Big things, and lots of little things too.  I think that I need more time and space to really parse out my thoughts.  There are lots of them. 

It's gonna take a while. 


love,
hannah

Dear snow in April,

I mean this as kindly as I possibly can, but no one wants you here. I mean really, go away. Leave, get out. I know it's tax day or whatever, but no! You better be gone in the morning.

Although, if you aren't gone, then I have company on the bus in the morning.

Next week is going to be interesting. It's pretty hard to jump from show mode to full-on study mode. My finals this year are bizarre.

Okay, I have to be awake at 7 tomorrow. A Saturday. I should go to bed now.


love,
hannah

Dear little red wagon,

I want you here right now. I think that your arrival marks a very significant passage of time. Get here now.


love,
hannah

Dear double major,

Why do you keep tempting me? Why am I so drawn to the idea of making myself miserable (in no small way) next year just so that I can graduate with a double degree? What would I do with it? Why do I still kind of want it?

I would love to add a Theater major.  But it means four classes next year that I would take otherwise, that aren't particularly appealing to me.  And in so many other departments my coursework would constitute a major, which is what makes this so frustrating. 

And so tempting.

But really, I want to be happy next year, I want to have fun and I want to try something new.  And I'm pretty sure those things can't happen if I hail Mary declare a double major right before we go into senior year.  I'm pretty sure that's a bad idea. 

I'm pretty sure that the fall schedule sucks.  No one is happy with it.  We should just jump from spring to summer and back to spring again.  That would work for everybody, right?

I don't think a double major is a good idea, even if it is really tempting. 


love,
hannah

Dear parrot lamp,

I think that I am at least the third generation to own the parrot lamp.  Perhaps the fourth.  The plug alone is like one I have never seen before.  It inspired me to clean off my desk, that and I don't know how to do work after rehearsals are over. 

I'm really happy to own the parrot lamp now. 

The beginning of the zoo! Ah, hopes for next year's house!


love,
hannah

Dear Little Mosque On The Prarie,

Thanks to our Black Feminist Thought discussion board, I was reading articles about the idea of a Muslim Cosby Show to which one author said, it already exists! So then I watched the pilot of the Candaian program Little Mosque On The Prairie.  The writing may not be great, but I get what they're doing and I like it.  Also, it takes place in Saskatchewan, which is one of the funniest place names I have ever heard, and they say "sorry" a lot in a very Canadian fashion. 

I recommend watching it, the pilot was entertaining but I liked the second episode a lot.  Second Episode  While not a surprise at all, I like Rayyan.  Enjoy my bizarre Saturday YouTube viewings!


love,
hannah

Dear spring,

Today I was reminded of how living in the Midwest can be such a beautiful thing, if only for the joy that comes when spring arrives.  Everyone is happy, everyone.  It's amazing.  I took a walk today and I couldn't stop playing with my hair, and I have no idea why.  Spring is an amazing thing.

Of course, I'm pretty sure I missed Skirt Day so I'm going to try and make it up tomorrow.


love,
hannah

Dear Eat, Pray, Love,

I thought I had sworn that I would never watch you.  I am not interested in you.  As J.Laine said it's a movie about "getting wisdom from 'little brown people.'" I'm not down with that.  But somehow, post-rehearsal this evening I needed something to let my mind cool.   (Cool? I'm not sure what I was thinking.) Somehow I came to Eat, Pray, Love which I never wanted to see. 

However, it's making me nostalgic for Italy, for Rome.  I know it was only a week that I was there, but I miss it a lot now.  And I think it will only re-kindle my decade long desire to go to India. 

I really should stop.  Really, I need to stop watching this movie.  I've got things to do tomorrow.


love,
hannah

Dear boys next door,

So you're experimenting with death metal now? Thanks for waking me up to tell me. 

love,
hannah

Dear petticoats,

You're kinda fun.  Especially when you get all pushed to the back and form a bustle.  Then I get a funny butt.  It's pretty awesome. 

The bustle helps to make the character complete.  Hooray!


love,
hannah

Dear tech weekend,

You are over! Hooray! And now just one crazy week where I only live after 5 pm.  That's the way to go.  Truly.  Tonight's notes produced this:

Though there might be some that object to calling the Chorus the Dead Girl Posse, I love it. 

Thank you Caridad!


love,
hannah

Dear April Fool's Day,

I think that the internet has changed you.  First it was in a cool way, like "Oh how can we transfer jokes to the internet?" And then you would run across a joke and be confused, and then you'd figure it out, giggle and move on. 

But now I expect it.  Now when I check my email or go to Google or get newsletters from different groups, I expect that something's going to be messed with. 

Which is cool.  Sort of.  It makes the joke very predictable. 


love,
hannah