Dear September Sun,

I'm equally excited that fall weather is approaching and upset that the sun is about to to leave.  Today I sat in the sun for just a half an hour, but it was amazing.  I even had to worry about getting burned.  Though, that probably never would have happened.  I want to wear my sweaters and my boots but I loved catching the last rays of sun in my shorts.  As you can tell, I am deeply conflicted.

I spent some time before today remembering the events of ten years ago.  In fact, I've spent part of the last month thinking about September 11, because even though I was alive for the event, I feel as though I never be able to fully understand the effects of that day.  I don't understand the ensuing months, or wars.  I feel like I would have to do some serious studying to understand September 11.  So, I wanted to do something today to try and understand, but in the end, I gave it less thought today than other days in the past month.  Regarding September 11 I just feel lost, I don't know when or where to start. 


love,
hannah

Dear Mom,

It's very early on Friday.  On Friday you're going to find my blog.  Hopefully you found the link through my Facebook info page, if not, we need to have another Facebook tutorial. 

Once you have found my blog, post on my wall to let me know that you've found it.  Love you!


love,
hannah

Dear one year of blogging,

You're here! And that means it is my senior year.  W-O-W.  Has it really been a year? Has it really only been a year.  I've done so much in the last year, and I've learned how to schedule myself into oblivion so that I never stop running around town. 

I had a big senior moment today: I'm trying to get registered for this class, which is obviously full of more people than were intended for the class according to the registrar and for the classroom.  I've already spoken with the professor about taking his class (in fact he encouraged me to take his class) but my name isn't on the wait list.  I go up to the front desk after class where folks are getting their forms signed and putting their names on the wait list.  When I say hello, instead of asking for my name and explaining how their enrollment policy works he says "Oh, hello, I'm excited to work with you, I'm sure there will be room for you in the class.  We'll figure it out on Friday."  Folks, I have arrived.  Professors wanna work with me now.  It was in such stark contrast to sophomore year when I ran around campus begging professors to let me into a class just so I could fulfill my last science requirement. 

How the years have passed?


love,
hannah

Dear last (Rocky Horror) Picture Show,

It may only be four years old, but there is a tradition of screening Rocky Horror the night before classes start.  A final hurrah before the semester begins.  The only problem with this is that by the time we get to the pool in Rocky Horror I am ready for bed and wanting to get ready for the next day.

That said, I thought I would blog a bit before I embark on my last first day of school.  It's gonna be a crazy one.  Sadly, the outfit that I had planned for tomorrow (inspired by Tammi Taylor ya'll!) can't happen tomorrow as I must be on a bike.  That means we will have a skirty Thursday ya'll!

Alright, that's it.  I'm going to bed.  I've got to pull myself together for tomorrow. 


love,
hannah

Dear duck talk,

A duck talk is simple: a group of girls (formerly bound together by participation in a play) get together and talk about our ducks.  The first duck talk was mandated.  We had to have a duck talk, except we didn't call it that.  I think we called it "girlytime" then.  (The play we were all in had some really important sexual themes/discussions and the director thought that it was important we talk with each other before we went into rehearsal.  I laughed it off, and I thought it was going to be really dumb.  But it was amazing.  Rarely are conversations given purpose; most of the time conversations about sex, and romance and confusion are common but shallow, but duck talks allow for depth and total honesty and, most importantly, sharing. 

We now call it a duck talk because of a joke that was made at the first talk.  We felt that we could have all of our lives in order (all of our ducks) and then there would be one duck just staring at us (the love/sex duck).  That duck is always trouble.  So now we have duck talks. 

And just for a good helping of irony, this morning we made smoothies from my "man-catching" blender.  It didn't work.  That's okay, our ducks aren't going to be in order any time soon.


love,
hannah

Dear Domino,

Damn, you're a catchy song. 

Do you know this song? I like this song.  I was just at a (very fun!) party, but whoever was DJing wasn't doing the best job.  I didn't even want to dance.  I'm not saying that this song would have saved it, but apparently it's my follow-up party song.  And that means it's time for bed. 


love,
hannah

Dear pope table,

Tonight, at Buca di Beppo, I dined at the pope table.  We were not quite enough people to fill the enormous table, but we tried.  But then we had to rotate the pope so that he wasn't staring at any one person for too long.  The best part about tonight's dinner was that I thought I had said goodbye to this group of people, I thought we weren't going to happen again.  But we do! We live on! It's amazing.  And, there are even people we've added. 

Also, we (myself and another Whovian who talk a lot) managed to wait four hours before talking about Doctor Who.  That's a bug record for us. 


love,
hannah