Hearts and Eyes

James McAvoy stole my heart many years ago in the film Becoming Jane, opposite Anne Hathaway (who also happens to be a love of mine, but in a slightly different way).

Tonight, many years further into my life, and actually experienced in full-on adulthood, despite his character’s faults, he still holds my heart captive in the gorgeous ideal he presents…

To be so loved and admired as he portrays his character to love and admire Anne Hathaway’s… practically the epitome of my goals in life with a partner…

And, just for a moment, consider those bright blue eyes showing up in that dance sequence… just stunning how much love and passion and delight they portray.

Well, done, director and crew and James, himself… darn stunning, indeed!

Post-a-day 2019

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Music Therapy

For some reason, I always seem to forget how important and how valuable playing music is to my life.

I get into these ruts of not feeling like putting forth the effort to play music on any of my instruments, because it’s usually just before bed that I have the real time to spend doing it, and I’m so tired that I want to get as much sleep as possible before I wake early the next day.

And then the one or two nights like that get me in the habit of not playing (and singing), and I go weeks or months without doing any music of my own.

And then, every time I get back into it, I rediscover how massive a difference it makes for me and my sanity, my mental calm.

It is like meditation, while also being an active mental workout, figuring out the notes and all, and casually committing things to memory from it all… and also an emotional catharsis… so it’s cathartic meditative exercise for the mind and body.

And I somehow always forget that, and I let myself not play and sing… dope… cut it out. πŸ˜›

I think my whole concern is that I love it so much, I always end up playing for so long – like an hour or so – every time I play, and that’s a lot less time to sleep, especially when the alarm is sounding in only six or seven hours.

You know what I mean?

So, I want to work on that… maybe I can manage some playing during the daytime some days… or maybe find a few select songs that satisfy fully, so I can spend just five or ten minutes before bed, yet be fully satisfied…

We’ll see… that’s my goal for this month, musically – to figure that out.

Post-a-day 2019

Gal Pals

In a comical and slightly intoxicated – truly only slightly on the one side, and then sober on the listening side – conversation between two girls (women) this past weekend, I heard the following line, delivered slightly like a five year old’s declaration of wanting her own birthday cake at someone else’s birthday party, from the girl who has a boyfriend:

I want a boyfriend who does the sex to me every day.

She then proceeded to say, “I really do,” in an effort to convince the sober, single friend who was laughing deeply beside her.

And no, English was not a foreign language for either – they were all too clearly native English speakers.

I think that’s part of what makes the silly statement so wonderful.

I am still laughing at the whole thing today, days after the fact, it was so odd and goofy…

πŸ˜›

Post-a-day 2019

Acknowledgement

The gym owner did the class with us this afternoon.

He does it every day, I think, but I haven’t paid attention as to whether he attends the same class time every day or not.

Nonetheless, he worked out with us today, right?

Right.

Okay, two things.

Firstly, he verified that he intends fully to do the Murph workout next week using strict pull-ups only, no kipping – “Murph didn’t kip…” – and so expects to have a terrible time (of it, and literally, I suppose).

Secondly, at the end of the workout today, I hear someone walking behind me say, “Who picks stupid shit like that?”, clearly referencing the intense and exhausting workout we’d just finished in the crazy heat and humidity that make their appearances this time of year in Houston.

I turn, and, as I had already suspected, I see that the gym owner, himself, the fittest person I’ve ever known or seen in person, was the one who’d spoken.

I laugh a casual, “Ha,” and agree, “Right?”

After a brief pause, during which I consider many possible scenarios, but still settle on the original one as the most likely, I add, “You do pick out the workouts, though, right?”

He looks right at me and nods morosely, breathing through his mouth, and I crack a smile as, shaking his head slowly, he says, “Still stupid shit…”

And then I got to experience the beauty that is my abdomen at this point, flexing wonderfully in giggling laughter. πŸ˜€

Gotta love when people can speak honestly about the pains of doing a quality but extremely exhausting workout, especially when they know it’s because of them that everyone is suffering, you know?

And also that the one who puts us through the misery always makes sure to put himself through it, too.

I love our gym owner – he rocks on so many levels, and today was just another one of those levels shining brilliantly through.

Post-a-day 2019

A brief note to myself

Dear Hannah,

You’re right – you will be okay… you will make it through all of this, and be the better for it, and even more so than you currently can imagine.

You can do it.

And it’s okay to be scared a bit, too, and to cry a lot… totally part of the whole process of turning into the person you want to be. πŸ˜‰

Peace and Love be unto, from, and within you

Hannah of the future

Post-a-day 2019

Nursery rhymes

I probably could use a good one right now…

There was an old woman who swallowed a fly, but I don’t know why she swallowed the fly…

But I do… she probably had something die in the walls of her house, and the blood flies appeared one morning outing seemingly nowhere, and she was bombarded by them only hours later as she hung up the fly paper strands from the ceiling, because they had quadrupled since that morning, and so she was crying and crying and packing a bag quickly so she could leave and stay elsewhere while the fly papers did their work (she hoped, anyway), and, as she wondered how the hidden dead creature would be found at the end of the week (that was just beginning) when the exterminator came for their long visit, when it was only Sunday currently, and she slipped on her hurried and panicked way down the stairs, carrying her hurriedly-packed bag and other necessary items for the week, and, as she called out in her slip, a fly ran into her open, inhaling mouth…

Or something like that…

I mean, it’s just an idea… no reason for that particular scenario to have come to mind… no reason at all… except for what happened today, of course…. so glad the last bit actually didn’t happen…, but I could totally see it as having been a horrible top-off for the whole miserable part of the day…., but I’m glad it didn’t.

Post-a-day 2019

At the close of a rough day…

What are you doing right now?

Can I play ukulele to you?

I’m feeling a bit lonesome and useless, and that would be a quality purpose

I considered guitar, but the strings really need to be replaced :/

Those were the messages I sent.

And then she called me…, and I played ukulele and sang to her, and we talked a bit afterward about some things, and it was great.

My mission was accomplished, and I felt so much more at ease than beforehand… service given, art made, purpose felt, love shared.

Friends are wonderful, even when they are all the way across the country.

πŸ™‚

P.S. I spoke briefly with a friend in D.C. earlier, and then this one in Oregon tonight… I really do span the country with my closest friends… it’s almost as though one must live farther away in order to deepen our friendship more. πŸ˜›

Post-a-day 2019