Tonight, I share an exchange I had with my mother on the late-night ride home tonight, as a sort of appetizer for what is to come soon regarding mistaken words spoken aloud:
Mom: “[…] and I had several many [phone] calls…”
Hannah: “How many calls did you have?”
And then we both totally cracked up as she tried desperately to answer, but couldn’t even get the whole word several out, and I commented that she had clearly used the quantification of the phrase ‘huge big’.
Post-a-day 2018
… because, sometimes, I have multiple dreams in a row where Channing Tatum and I are totally buddy-buddy…, and it is totally on par with my beloved fancy gelato.
Maybe even better… (but that stuff is really good).
Post-a-day 2018
I used to fake a friend’s name in middle school. I did. To clarify, I faked his name in writing. I didn’t know how it was spelled, and I never worked up a way to find out (and to remember) how to write it.
Traditionally, I always wrote people’s names clearly. Sure, my handwriting was sloppy and small and almost always in cursive. However, I took the time to write people’s names, oftentimes in print, and much better than my standard note-taking, squinty script. So, when it came to this one friend’s name, I faked a sloppiness that was not my own.
See, regularly, when he wrote his own name, he connected the last two letters together somewhat, making it unclear as to whether it was a hurried -an or -on at the end of his name. It was a somewhat irregular name, and so I had no basis for comparison. Plus, the pronunciation didn’t help – there were plenty of foreign-like names that had an -an sound like a US English -on. (Take Han Solo for example.) To top it off, the first note he gave me, whenever he signed his name, I couldn’t tell which way his name was spelled. And, since I saw it that way first, that was what stuck.
I had heard how people spelled his name wrong all the time, and I had seen it spelled by others both ways. I was not about to make that same mistake. Therefore, I just threw in a stab of – and I say stab casually, but it truly was painful for me – sloppiness whenever I wrote his name in particular, and no one ever had to find out.
(Until now, of course, but that is beside the point. These sorts of things mattered among young people learning to become friends in middle school.)
It was kind of funny, really, remembering all of this tonight. It all came to me, because of something similar about slightly illegible writing, but, because it was from middle school, I ended up with the song “sk8r boi” by Avril Lavigne in my head (a middle school hit). As I thought about the song, I happened to notice how my middle school was somewhat the reverse of the “sk8r boi” scenario. The nerd-esque boy in the ever-present UT jacket that seemed to conceal any shirt he ever wore – oops… I digress – now, he seemed to want me (and everyone knew it). I semi-wanted him, but I declined because he was not the cool kid, so to speak; he didn’t have the skater boy edge to go along with his book brains. (I didn’t actually like the skater boys at my school either, but my brothers roller skated and skate boarded a little, and their general coolness was my standard for what was needed in a desirable guy [and still is], in addition to brains.)
I somewhat cared about what all my friends thought about him, but that totally wasn’t my reasoning. I just didn’t actually have a crush on the guy. We were classmates, and I had a blast going back and forth in contest with him over having the highest grade in class (math class for sure, I remember). But he didn’t have what I desired – he was just a half package, so to speak, not the whole thing. Come to think of it, that’s how I’ve felt about most any guy I’ve known. Perhaps that’s part of why I’ve never really been in any kind of dating relationship – I’m only looking for the whole package. Anything less is fine for a friend or acquaintance, but not for dating.
huh… not quite where I expected this thought line to go tonight… 😛
Post-a-day 2018
When I shower in the dark of night, with just one small touch light on in the far corner of the bathroom, somehow – just somehow – life feels magical, and as though anything is possible…
Post-a-day 2018
You know those people whom you find fascinating, and with whom you wish you could spend loads more time, so you could really get to know them?
Now, imagine one of those people, after having spent a short while hanging out with you and chatting with you about this and thats, saying to you that you are fascinating and that that person appreciates having gotten to spend some time with and learn a little more about you.
Feels good, doesn’t it? 🙂
That was my tonight.
Post-a-day 2018
I received some delightful news today, but I wasn’t jumping for joy at learning it.
However, I have, since learning about that, been giddily delighted about something else entirely…
I think that the news today gave my whole being such a sense of relief that I suddenly was able to enjoy fully the something else I’ve been pondering lately (but hadn’t really been able to enjoy yet).
Funny how that happens. 🙂
Post-a-day 2018
I just the other day had a conversation with a friend about physical attraction, specifically that I felt it was important to have physical attraction in a dating+ relationship to a certain degree, at least as an initial tug for interest in a person, whereas she felt it was not a necessity, but something more of a bonus, because a person could be attractive by other means, and therefore didn’t need any original physical attraction present.
The whole purpose was to get me to go dance with a guy she thought was cute, but whom I didn’t find cute, but we really got into discussion on it, finding that we agreed on all other aspects but the necessity of at least a spark of initial physical attraction.
And now, mere days later, I cross a situation quite similar to what we were discussing: A guy I did not initially find physically attractive, but whom – after seeing the person within him and how he acted – I now find attractive.
Granted, he’s only a character in a film, but it really has me thinking…
I felt as though there was actually something that sparked my interest the first time I saw him, though I would not have said that he was specifically handsome or my type or anything… just that I was intrigued…, and was that enough of what I had meant about initial physical attraction to have it turn into something more?
Or would I have felt the same way, even if I hadn’t had that initial little spark of interested physical attraction?
Just has me wondering…
Post-a-day 2018
Did you know that indigo powder is green?
I had always imagined that it would be, you know, blue-ish… like indigo, the color.
But then, here I have some indigo powder, and, sure enough, it is pale green, much like a mix of moss and grass.
And then, just as surely, of course, it dyed things blue-ish…, indigo.
Magic in nature, I suppose…
There isn’t much that occurs naturally as blue in nature, but I wonder how much more there might be that are just as deceiving as indigo… talk about not judging a book by its cover…
Post-a-day 2018
Tonight was a very good night.
I have not gotten home as late as 3:30am in a very, very long time.
I shall celebrate with a shower and my Tuesday underwear (because tomorrow is Saturday).
I have no specific plans for the day tomorrow, aside from doing exercise and being generally awesome, and I am delighted.
Post-a-day 2018
On my evening walk today, I was struck by what I believe must have been the smell of someone’s dryer sheets. Each time I passed it, I was brought instantly back to swim team days. Actually, I was brought back to specific swim team evenings. Somehow, the smell, combined with the warm air and the setting sun, reminded me of Monday night swim meets, and, more specifically, the movie nights to follow (once I was a little older).
Those movie nights are probably some of the best evenings I’ve known. We always had dinner at this one local restaurant after every meet (I think they gave use free kids meals with our team suits on). And then, afterward, the older kids would go over to someone’s house and watch a movie together. Eventually, I was approved to attend movie nights, though not many my age ever went. I just had an older brother, so I had an early in, so to speak.
At the movie nights, I had not a care in the world – swimming was behind me, and I got to hang around with my brother and other cool people. (Hey, they were all cool in my mind, because they were older and better at swimming, and because my brother liked them, and he was totally cool.) It was often at this one family’s house where the mother always made cookies. I’m not sure how it happened – though it in no way surprises me – but I ended up being her helper of sorts.
We kind of only watched “Hook”, with the occasional stray to “Star Wars”, at the movie nights, even though they happened every week. But no one seemed to mind that we watched the same thing over and over again. (“Hook” really is a spectacular film, you know.) Since I pretty much could quote the whole movie, I didn’t mind checking out the cookie-baking setup off in the kitchen one night. I ended up actually making and then serving the cookies during the movie from then on out. I went in and out of the movie, only hanging in the kitchen when I had a specific task to undertake, so I still saw most of the movie. But I got to do something extra, fun, special, and useful, too. Plus, everyone loved me for bringing them warm cookies that the mom and I had made. And, what made it even more special, was that I was hanging out with my older brother and his friends – I qualified to be with them, and they weren’t opposed to my being there. 🙂
One movie night in particular, as we left the house, I felt like I was in a wonderland, because flowing white surrounded us in the warm wind – someone had wrapped the house during our movie. Sure, it was toilet paper hanging everywhere from the trees in the front yard, but it felt like magic. There was something about those movie nights that just made life seem easy, free, and happy. I think that’s part of why I still love “Hook” and “Star Wars” so much, and I regularly have a desire to watch them (and always feel really special whenever I do actually watch them).
Yeah, those were really good times. Thanks, whomever, for your dryer sheets this evening. 🙂
Post-a-day 2018
hannah ananas 