Dear The Purse,

For my birthday last year I was given A Purse.  A real live, grown-up Purse.  With a capital P.  I was told that I "cannnot carry a backpack forever."  While that may be true, I imagine I will still need a backpack from time to time.  (Josh Lyman does.  Please understand how much West Wing I have watched/will watch over the course of this winter break.) 

Today, I used The Purse for the first time.  It was a good inaugural run.  We went out on an adventure for an informational interview.  (I gathered lots of information.  It was a successful mission.) 

That'll do Purse.  That'll do.


love,
hannah

Dear Tic Tacs,

The dog smells like you.  Upon his return from doggy camp they bathe him (my mother's favorite part) and now he smells like Tic Tacs just before they start to dissolve.  At first we thought it was a cookie smell, but that was not quite right.

I know that Christmas is not a time for criticism and critique but, too late.  The Christmas Special.  She saves everything because she loves her husband and her kids? Yeah, sure, it had me crying like a baby, but it felt boring.  Can this woman do nothing else? Can women do nothing else?

As I said, Christmas is not the time for critique.


love,
hannah

Dear Stratford on Guy,

I always think of this song as I'm coming into O'Hare.  It's really only the first couple of lines, but they always come to mind as the plane comes in over the city.  One time I was able to listen to it as the plane landed, and that was a beautiful, and kind of surreal moment.  Another reason I think I liked this song when I first heard it was because I was really interested in Shakespeare and I enjoyed the play on his hometown, even if I didn't really understand it.

I have returned from Costa Rica, or as I have dubbed it Cute-sta Rica for its ability to transform me into a fourth grade girl.  Sadly, I did not return with any super cute animals in tow.  But, there's always the chance that when we go to pick up the dog at Petsmart I could pick something up stateside. 


love,
hannah

Dear Costan Rican reading list,

For those that are wondering, I'm headed to Costa Rica tomorrow.  We're going on our last real family vacation before I go off and join the world as an adult. 

Here's what I'm bringing to read:
The Marriage Plot by Jeffrey Eugenides
Class by Cecily Von Ziegesar
The Other Wes Moore by Wes Moore
Packing for Mars by Mary Roach

Two fiction, two nonfiction, looking to trade with my fam once we get there.

Oh, and there's a volcano and rainforest to explore as well. 

AND SLOTHS.  So excited for the sloths.  Get pumped world, me and sloths, comin' at cha. 

See you again, post-sloth, pre-2012.


love,
hannah

Dear Gone in the Morning,

I am hooked on this song right now.  It came on shuffle yesterday evening and I have been listening to it non-stop ever since.  Once I started listening, I've been needing to dance.  It feels like my whole body is itching.  I even remembered this one move from African dance over the summer and sat through a play last night just wanting to dance. 

Even now, in public I just want to sing this song out loud and dance down the street. 

I am in a serious countdown mode.  In less than a week I will be home preparing to head to Costa Rica.  But, this year the countdown feels less happy.  I'm weirdly happy, and strangely disconnected from the stress that's setting in right now. 

I'll just keep listening to this song. 


love,
hannah

Dear Meryl Streep and Stanley Tucci,

Can we be best friends? Or at least, can I go to dinner with you guys? You seem awesome, and a lot of fun.  We can talk about working class history, Mean Girls and arts education.  You guys would care about my finals and have brilliant things to say.  Or, we could share some pizza, or a martini.

Your pick.  Come to Minnesota?


love,
hannah

Dear final madness,

I'm splitting my blogging time these days.  Check out this joint endeavor with Caitlyn.  It makes decidedly less sense, but it's probably more fun.

love,
hannah