Music evolution

SHOUT OUT to my friend Lexi for her inspirational blog post, which I am now shamefully ripping off. Her post was one of music nostalgia, and her time line of musical evolution got me thinking about myself, of course, and I decided to follow in her footsteps.

Era 1- Musical influence: my mother.
From birth until about the fourth grade, my only musical influence was my mommy. So, I spent most my time listening to "Anything you can do, I can do better" from Annie get your gun repeatedly. If I wasn't listening to that, I was probably listening to School House Rock, Disney movie soundtracks, or Feel Good Rock from the '60's. A favorite of mine was "Copacabana" by Barry Manilow. If I can figure out how, I will upload a video of 4 year old Hannah singing an a capella version in her sister's color guard dress. Priceless.

Era 2-Musical influence: Radio Disney.
From 4th to 6th grade I was listening to hits like Aaron Carter, 3LW, Dreamstreet, and others. Later on in this era, in my more mature years, I listened to masters such as Simple Plan, Good Charlotte, Jojo, and Yellow Card. 

Era 3- Musical influence: My friends
This is the time in my life when I started to flourish. Through 7th and 8th grade, I would raid my friend's musical collections, then sift through and take what I thought was the best. A lot of it also came from searching my older brothers' iTunes. This left me listening to things like The All-American Rejects, Tenacious D, the Shins, Sum 41, Green Day, and Grease. I mixed this in with whatever pop culture told me to like, and called it good.

Era 4-Musical influence: Andy
At this point of my life, I basically just did whatever Andy told me to do. Which is, sadly, the best Era I've had up to this point. For all of 9th grade, I would just lay on the office floor while Andy listened to music, wait for him to get off, then put everything I had just heard on my iPod. I spent most of my time listening to the Format, Cake, Seve Vs Evan, Sufjan Stevens, Death Cab for Cutie, Tegan and Sara, Weezer, Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Andrew Bird, and others. This is also the point in my life where I listened to the Naked Brothers Band in excess (don't judge me!!). 

Era 5-The Dark ages
When Andy went to college, my musical dynasty came crumbling down. With him gone, and me having grown tired of my old collection, I turned to other sources for my musical inspiration. These included my friends, the radio, and other unreliable places. I spent my time listening to Varsity Fanclub, which I do not suggest you look up. It was a sad, sad time in my history.

Era 6-Musical renaissance
You know when you eat nothing but junk food for so long, you just want to die and never eat anything but salads ever again? I reached that point with terrible music. What did I do? Went back to the basics. During my Andy Music era, I got into "freak folk" or "Naturalisimo" music. Basically really hip indie music. As cool as you can get. So I submerged myself into the raw talent and hipsterness that is Joanna Newsom, Iron & Wine, CoCo Rosie, Greg Weeks, and others. I came out of this rejuvenated and ready to get back in the game.

Era 7-Musical influence varies.
I have reached a point in my life where I feel I have a balanced perspective. I listen to my Page France, my format, and my Julia Nunes to get my pop fixes. I have my Brand New and Saosin for my poserpunk moods. There's Jay-Z and Kanye when I desperately want to be black. My bright eyes when I'm sad, my Rocket Summer when I'm happy. Harry and the Potters for my Wizard rock cravings, Cake when I want to feel legit, Naked Brothers band when I want to feel like a kid again...I could go on an on. The point is, I do what I want. 

Love Letter

Dear Will from Teen Tournament Jeopardy,

Okay, so I've never actually met you. So the only things I know about you are that you are a smart, cute senior from South Carolina that is terribly awkward in camera interviews. So your last name is Dantzler. None of those things matter in love, Will. The way you knew every answer in the Twilight category doesn't even repulse me (although I was embarrassed for you). That's what love does to a person. It also leads them to googling your name and high school. It's not creepy, right? Not that I did it. Just, if a person happened to do it, it wouldn't be creepy. Okay, cool.

Maybe one day we'll both be on college Jeopardy, and even though I will surely yet gracefully kick your trash, we will share a mutual respect and admiration for each other, which will turn into a lasting love.  Think about it, Will.  Not many girls are going to love your Jeopardy win. But I do, Will. I do.  

Forever yours,
Hannah Grace 

Thanksgiving

Today I am very thankful for my family.  I've been in this weird transition period lately where I'm sort of homeless and have no idea where the next few months--okay, years--of my life are going to take me, and it has been stressing me out.  But here I am, sleeping on the floor of my sister's office, with a serious kink in my neck from the less than pillowy carpet, but I somehow still feel a sort of home.

I realized the cliche is so true: wherever you are with people you love, you are home.  Sitting with my family, eating marshmellow fluff and stuffing was home for me at this period of time, even though it was the first time in 15 years I wasn't eating at my Centerville house.

And I know when I go back to my apartment in P-town, that will feel like a different kind of home because my roommates have formed this weird makeshift family, and I actually feel a little homesick for them.  And I'm just so grateful that I have people in my life that make me feel like I belong somewhere. No matter what happens, I can always come back to that.

CLICHE.  but true.

How to Fangirl

Step 1: become obsessive about something.  It doesn't matter what you choose to obsess about.  It can be a TV show, movie, book, person, food, anything.  Just pick something and make sure at least 35% of your life revolves around that thing.

Step 2: Make sure enough of your feelings are invested that you have done all of the following things regarding your subject:  laugh, cry, scream, wave your hands around, collapse on your computer.

Step 3:  Try your best to keep it a secret for as long as possible, until you just can't hold it in anymore

Step 4:  Explode and tell all the internet/every single one of your friends how obsessed you are.  Claim that you need professional help but don't even pretend to try to accept any advice.

Step 5: Find other fangirlers on the internet.  The internet is an amazing place where all fangirlers can come together in their fangirl-ness.

Step 6: Embrace that fact that this will be a part of you until you move on to something else to fangirl about.

Step 7: Write a blog about how to fangirl.

Change

Things are changing around my apartment.  My roommate who was very close to engagement (after 5 weeks of courtship) took her boyfriend to Arizona to meet the parents.  They come home, and she breaks up with him. She's going on a mission now.

My other roommate, who is "A STRONG INDEPENDANT WOMAN WHO DOESN'T NEED A MAN," now has a boyfriend who is actually super cute to her and isn't as weird as my other roommate's now ex-boyfriend

My other other roommate's missionary came home a few weeks ago, but she is unsure whether she wants to settle down and marry him, or date this other guy or something.

I made a really really good sandwich the other day.

Post-Disney Depression

I am home from Disneyland.

Home is a weird concept.  At Disneyland we would say, "do you want to go home?" but no one ever meant Utah.  They meant the hotel.  But now I'm "home" which is my apartment.  What I have considered my home my whole life is now somebody else's home.  My parents are living in my sister's home until they have their own.  We're all in this limbo stage, so it's no wonder I'm feeling scrambled lately.

I have been back for one day.  In that day I spent one hour in class, two hours doing extra credit, maybe 45 minutes doing homework, and the rest of the time...I don't even know.  Laying on my floor, playing Uno with my roommates, doing anything--anything--except the mountains of homework my teachers assigned while I was gone (which they failed to tell me about the 14 times I went to them before my trip).

I picked a pretty good time to go, though.  I have to truck through this week, and then it will be Thanksgiving break.  I also missed the election, which was AWESOME.  Remind me to stay off facebook that whole week in 2016.

Lyric Essay 3: letters

To Whom It May Concern:

I am writing to complain about the service I experienced at the Disneyland parks this week.  I have always been pleased with Disney in the past, and had very high hopes for this trip.  However, I was sorely disappointed.  My family purchased 5 day passes because we have loved going to Disneyland.  The line situation, however, proved trying to our Disney love.  Those with 1 day passes were cruising through the lines in five minutes, but our lines (of which there were only two) were one to two hours long.  I don’t feel like we should be punished for wanting to spend more time in your park, in which we will spend more money.  This seriously hindered our ability to have a good time.  Please work on those things in the future, or I will be hesitant to visit again.

From,

Hannah Wing

Dear Miss Wing,

We treat all of our gests the same, and we are not trying to punish you for buying longer tickets.  People have been selling their longer passes and we are trying to eliminate that problem by having ID checked, but we don’t have enough cast members trained to do so. We weren’t anticipating such long lines.

Disney

Dear Disney,

Whatever you were trying to do is irrelevant.  You weren’t doing a good job.  We pay a premium to go to Disneyland because we trust that you know what you are doing.  This system has been in place for several weeks now, and you have the resources to train more people and open more lines.  Furthermore, when I tried to complain, my thoughts weren’t heard, and were written off as unimportant.  Just because you are a huge corporation with infinite money doesn’t mean you can treat the customer like they are unimportant peons.  Instead of being a magical time, it was a time of tears and frustration.  Why did you betray me, Disney? Why do you hate us?

Hannah Wing

Miss Wing,

Whatever. We don’t care about your problems and we don’t need your business.  Besides, you’ll come crawling back to us anyway, so why should we try to make you happy?  Go complain to someone who cares. 

Lyric Exercise 2: How To

Step one: Convince yourself not to go, because what college student has the time or money to go to Disneyland for the week?  This is the logical thing to do.  Accept the fact that you family is going to Disneyland without you, and make sure they get you a post card while you keep studying hard and gaining an education.

Step two:  Call your mom in the middle of the night after watching home videos of the whole family in Disneyland, sobbing about how you don’t even remember the trip to Disneyland when you were too young, and you don’t have memories of your siblings.  Apologize for being so irrational, but beg to come along, if just for a few days.

Step three: Have your mom decide you simply need to go the whole week.  Make sure she already buys your tickets so you are forced to go. Be happy but also inconceivably stressed out

Step four: On the first day of school, check the syllabus of the week you will be gone and already begin freaking out about the four school days you will be missing.  Try to plan ahead as much as possible, but acknowledge it will be virtually impossible until a few weeks before hand.

Step five: As the time draws nearer, approach your professors about what work you can complete ahead of time.  Some of them will be helpful.  Some of them will try to help, but fail miserably.  And others just want to see you cry.  Persevere.

Step six:  A few days before you leave, when your teachers will actually tell you what you need to do, spend all day and all night preparing to be gone.  Anticipate teachers switching three week mandatory projects for one of the weeks you were gone.  They will not tell you ahead of time.  They will be unabashed.  Perservere.

Step seven: Stay up the whole night before you fly out desperately trying to accomplish as much as you can while being nauseous with excitement for your trip.

Step 8:  Listen as roommates, teachers, friends, strangers tell you how lucky you are to be leaving.  Acknowledge that you are, but feel like screaming at them, emphasizing how much you have sacrificed to do this.

Step 9:  Have a very kind and loving friend drive you to your sister’s house in South Jordan where you will proceed to the airport.  Feel guilty about using your friend in tis manner.

Step 10: Get to South Jordan and realize you forgot your wallet.  Call your roommate in hysterics, waking her up and begging her to bring it to you.  Cry a lot.  Cry even more when she gets there, hugging her until she can’t breath and exclaiming to her that you owe her your life. 

Step 10: Go through airport formalities, and then sit next to your nephew on the plane, and recognize how lucky you are to be right here, right now. 

Lyric Exercise 2: How to

Step one: Convince yourself not to go, because what college student has the time or money to go to Disneyland for the week?  This is the logical thing to do.  Accept the fact that you family is going to Disneyland without you, and make sure they get you a post card while you keep studying hard and gaining an education.

Step two:  Call your mom in the middle of the night after watching home videos of the whole family in Disneyland, sobbing about how you don’t even remember the trip to Disneyland when you were too young, and you don’t have memories of your siblings.  Apologize for being so irrational, but beg to come along, if just for a few days.

Step three: Have your mom decide you simply need to go the whole week.  Make sure she already buys your tickets so you are forced to go. Be happy but also inconceivably stressed out

Step four: On the first day of school, check the syllabus of the week you will be gone and already begin freaking out about the four school days you will be missing.  Try to plan ahead as much as possible, but acknowledge it will be virtually impossible until a few weeks before hand.

Step five: As the time draws nearer, approach your professors about what work you can complete ahead of time.  Some of them will be helpful.  Some of them will try to help, but fail miserably.  And others just want to see you cry.  Persevere.

Step six:  A few days before you leave, when your teachers will actually tell you what you need to do, spend all day and all night preparing to be gone.  Anticipate teachers switching three week mandatory projects for one of the weeks you were gone.  They will not tell you ahead of time.  They will be unabashed.  Perservere.

Step seven: Stay up the whole night before you fly out desperately trying to accomplish as much as you can while being nauseous with excitement for your trip.

Step 8:  Listen as roommates, teachers, friends, strangers tell you how lucky you are to be leaving.  Acknowledge that you are, but feel like screaming at them, emphasizing how much you have sacrificed to do this.

Step 9:  Have a very kind and loving friend drive you to your sister’s house in South Jordan where you will proceed to the airport.  Feel guilty about using your friend in tis manner.

Step 10: Get to South Jordan and realize you forgot your wallet.  Call your roommate in hysterics, waking her up and begging her to bring it to you.  Cry a lot.  Cry even more when she gets there, hugging her until she can’t breath and exclaiming to her that you owe her your life. 

Step 10: Go through airport formalities, and then sit next to your nephew on the plane, and recognize how lucky you are to be right here, right now.  

Lyric exercise 1: Fear

Fears of stopping on railroad tracks, fears of fire and of bees.  Fear of never truly being accepted, fear of never being loved.  Not if they truly knew who I was.  Fear of bugs in my produce and fears of not being able to fall asleep at night.  Fears of forgetting something, fears of remembering something.  Fears of staying the same way forever, fears of changing too much.  Fear of failure, and fear of success.  Fear of working hard, fear of never accomplishing anything. Fear of getting married too young, fear of not getting married at all, fear of marrying the wrong person, fear of a marriage ending too soon. 

Fear that I’m not capable, fear that I’m not living up to my potential.  Fear I’m letting others down, fear that no one cares what I do.  Fear I fear too much, fear I don’t fear enough.  

Embarassing

Something I've been thinking a lot about lately is how vulnerable writing makes you.  Listening to CJane talk about how she allows herself to be so open to the world and then lets the cards fall where they may is inspiring...but also intimidating.  I'm not so worried about crossing the line writing about other people.  I'm very sensitive to others, and I would be hyper-sensitive when writing anything about them.  I would never write anything bad anyone, even if I tried.

Me on the other hand...well, I'm pretty worried about embarrassing myself.

I do a lot of dumb things.  Most of the time I recognize they are dumb, but feel the need to do them anyway, because life would be boring if I didn't. I'm not talking about truly dumb things, like doing drugs or playing with matches.  No, when it comes to safety I am always on the ball...sometimes to a fault.  But when it comes to social situations, or trying new things, or being involved, I go all in.

The fashion club is having modeling auditions? I sign up.  Accessibility week is going on? Get me some crutches.  There's a costume contest this Halloween?  You better believe I'm dressed up as Ginny Weasley (while she was possessed by Voldemort, no less, with bloody chicken feathers coating my hands and hair, and bags under  my eyes.) I'm easily enthused. I have an obsessive personality. I'm in love with with attention. Generally, I find this to be a good thing.  But looking back on my life and thinking about recording it has me shrinking in my chair.  Writing down things that happened is very different than doing them spur of the moment.  It requires thinking things through, and having others read those thoughts.

I don't know why there is such a difference for me doing things, and then talking about doing them. But it all just seems so private, and I'm not even talking about weighty issues.  I'm just talking about petty college girl issues. But I am scared.

I don't know how I am going to keep those insecurities from limiting my writing.