Dear spectrum,

Here's how it is: Things are volatile, not always in a scary way, but in the sense that the world can shift beneath you at any second.  What was once solid ground can quickly become uneasy.  And you never know.  It is always a surprise, and I think that's the part that is most uncomfortable.  I cannot anticipate or prepare from moment to moment.

And today, this is the song that's getting me through it.

Tonight we did a spectrum exercise, where you move your body to the place on the spectrum that, for tonight, how you feel about the transition out of college.  And just like that the whole world shook and I wasn't sure of anything.  This is not to sound defeatist, because it is thrilling.  But more than that it can be exhausting.  So I listen to the same song over and over, as I did four years ago with this song and finals.  (I'm sure my mother can remember.) 

So then I come across articles like this and I just burst into tears.  But I have an incredible community of friends, family and teachers to support me, and that's more than I can ask for.  Instead of dwelling on the ever-changing spectrum beneath my feet, I'm going to watch Gossip Girl, and that is going to be okay.  Okay?


love,
hannah

Dear Heers,

This is the song that started my day:

I don't know what it means and that doesn't really matter.  Although, upon a seventh listen maybe there's this: And he asks me what I want to be / I got nothin to say / He says that's okay he says.

It's workin' for me either way.  I have three job interviews ahead of me, and three behind me.  And other school related things to do.  How can spring break be two weeks away? How can I be feeling this good? I'm so confused. 

This morning I was developing a rant for Billy Crystal and the blackface that made an appearance in last night's Oscars.  In the end, everything I have to say has been said a hundred times before.  It shouldn't have appeared in last night's show, and I'm surprised and appalled.  FIX IT. 

love,
hannah

Dear Dame Judi Dench,

You're going blind! Tragic. Eight minutes until class is over.

I need a haircut.


love,
hannah

Dear nucleosynthesis.

Can you tell I'm not paying attention?

You just said, "we'll get back to the good news in a minute." Oy. Bring in the quasars! That better captures my interest.


































love,
hannah

Dear the former and the latter,

I used to be able to tell the difference between the two of you really easily, but now I actually have to think about it.  Is this what being older is? Why is this such a challenge for me?

As in, I genuinely must pause before using those words, or worse, understanding them together.  


love,
hannah

Dear Valentine's Day,

I genuinely like you.  A lot.  This is entirely thanks to my grandma, who has sent me a box of valentine supplies every year of my life.  In return for the supplies I made valentines for every relative.  (Some were great like the year we spelled out "I love you" with our bodies, some not so great, my teenage years?) 

Once, a couple years ago I was actually with someone for Valentine's Day and there was stuff in my locker and everything, except that I didn't know what to do with a stuffed animal puppy and candy.  (It was sweet! But I didn't realize that it was for me.  That's how out of touch I am.  In return I made him a valentine that read "Boo-ski" which apparently received a funny look from his mother.)  And so I totally get that feeling of "sad single shame" day, since that has been most of my Valentine's Days.  And I'm down with Occupy V-Day, if only because the phrase "couple-talism" cracks me up.  I also get that liberal arts colleges are a hotbed of cynicism and criticism, but I really like Valentine's Day.

It probably is a corporate creation, and minorly evil and environmentally stupid, but I do it.  I like to take a moment in the year to remind all the people in my life how much they mean to me and how much I love them.  (My house held a Galentine's Day celebration yesterday that was fantastic.)  There are so many different kinds of love in my life, and each of them needs to be recognized.  That's my Valentine's Day.  (I really wanted to make valentines for my professors/academic departments, but job searching got in the way of that.)  I haven't had time to make paper valentines for everyone who deserves one.  That's a post-grad aspiration. 

This morning I woke up to some crazy dreams that are directly connected to my job search and asking people to be references.  (No worries, everything is okay.)  So in order to make everything better I started a butt-shaking mix.  It really isn't the Valentine's Day mix I was hoping it would be, so I'm not going to advertise it as such.  Instead, I'll give you the highlights, and just have you know that I listened to them non-stop today.  (Sam Cooke makes snow magical.)

Accentuate the Positive: Sam Cooke
Gone in the Morning: Newton Faulkner
I'll Be Satisfied: Ryan Shaw
Without You: David Guetta and Usher

Shake your butt, share the love and enjoy this Valentine's Day!


love,
hannah

Dear book deal,

We are making plans.  I've got a title (which I'm not sharing yet) for my memoir.  It's gonna take some work over the next few years but the book is gonna be awesome.  Get ready, for real.  Publishers? Prepare for my proposal.


love,
hannah

Dear Eames Era,

You happen to be the one band that I have never been able to get anyone else interested in.  The only one! I can be decently influential when it comes to spreading music, but no one else seems to appreciate you the way that I do.  I once joined a Facebook group to acknowledge your awesomeness, and there were only 11 members.  One of them was in Peru.  (At least you've got some global fans.)

Regardless of the fact that no one else likes you, you're all I listened to you.  The Eames Era all day long.  Every walk, every study break was accompanied by your two excellent albums: Double Dutch and Heroes and Sheroes.  You maintained by vague sense of panic, but also made me feel peppy and light.  Well done. 

I'm passing you on. 

Oh, and now YouTube comments tell me that you're not even together anymore.  What kind of day has it been


love,
hannah

Dear geek,

"Do you mean geek as in the circus performer who eats the heads off of live chickens?"

Honestly, off all the random little pieces of information I know, this is not one that I would have anticipated coming in handy.  And, it came from sketch writing years ago, a scene about two home schooled students who find love despite the fact that they are socially awkward and don't get out very much.  (Believe me, it was hilarious.  And we called it 'Adventures Outside' because they only got let out every five years.  It was hilarious.)

I spent most of today in one of the local coffee shops, and there is a man who spends a lot of time there who has befriended my friends in the last four years.  Generally, I don't spend a lot of time there when I'm not with the rest of my friends, so I don't know this man too well.  But I was there long enough that he and I got to talking.  At some point he told me this story about spending time with some tennis greats, ending by saying "and that makes me a geek in the older sense, not as you guys know it, talking about skill with computers and stuff." 

"Well, I thought you were going to go back to the original definition of circus performers who eat the heads off of live chickens."  And then he just stared at me, "Hannah, I can't say that I've ever been bested in conversation quite like that before..."  At which point he wrote it down in his iPhone.  I felt so honored to be memorialized this way. 

Also, I applied for my first job today.  Here comes the end. 


love,
hannah

Dear Gilda Goldman,

Tonight I saw a production of Ragtime in which the woman playing Emma Goldman looked exactly like Gilda Radner.  It was incredible.  Sadly, the friend I was with didn't know Radner and couldn't appreciate the similarities.  Because it was so good.  But also strange, because I kept thinking, "I like both Gilda and Goodman, but I can't help but feel that they don't quite fit together, it's not a perfect pair."  I kept waiting for this after one of Goldman's fiery speeches:

Which, we can all agree, would be horribly wrong.  You don't end a rally to strike with "Never mind."

Gilda Radner

Emma Goldman

  Not sure that it proves anything...


love,
hannah