Final Exams: Complete

Thank godness.

Now I have an entire three days to be lazy. That will mostly consist of writing, sleeping, eating, and surfing the internet mindlessly. Woo.

I'm such a social hermit. Honestly. I haven't been out with friends in so long. The only time I really interact with people my age is at school, and that's not really a big deal, since they mostly just ask for answers to homework and such. I'm that goody-goody student everyone wants to be partners with because I'll do all the work.

It's probably because grades are insanely important to me.

I'm nervous about my Chemistry grade, but that's it.

Freaking Chemistry.

And my mom won't help me with it either, because she's too busy playing games on her tablet. God, I hate that thing. She pays more attention to it than she does to me. Anytime I need homework help it's all "Can't you see I'm playing a game?!"

Yeahhh.

Anyway, expect some random word vomit here and there, as well as some music recommendations and perhaps a recipe.

Woop.

Bye.

Shopping!

Today was fun. My grandmother gave me a $50 giftcard to Forever 21, so right now I think I'm good on clothes for the next year.

Sooo many sweaters. It's a good thing I live where it's cold.

News-y news.

Rosa's Garden, chapter three is nearly finished. Exciting, no? I'll need some people who want to review that. After chapter three, the action really starts coming in. In the book, however, there is a tad bit of politics, so be warned. If that kind of stuff bores you, you're allowed to skim.

I'm happy though. Today is a good day. I'm on enough Midol to slay a baby elephant though, so maybe I should go nap.

Nah.

Writing time!

Whoa, there's a blog here....

Oh my. It seems like I've completely forgotten about this blog I have here. Hm. Well, I suppose I'll just post whenever I have time/drive/an interesting little quip.

My grandmother is in town and staying with us, so lately my life has consisted of keeping her occupied. I've been crazy busy with school, and since break started, I've mostly slept.

Hm.

Yeah, my life isn't very interesting.

Oh yeah, my prompt project is almost done!

Crazy, huh?

I think I'm going to do another project, just to keep me writing everyday. It's awesome to have something to work on, something to strive for.

I'm feelin' good, man.

*long, wise old sigh*

I'm from Oregon, if you didn't know. We practically survive on coffee and philosophical musing. It's pretty cold, as of now. I'm sitting on my couch wearing a giant fluffy coat and a knit hat. But you know what? I'd never want to leave Oregon. Sure, we might have rain and the bitter cold and high property tax, but I love it here.

It's home.

Alrighty, better get back to working on prompts and my manuscript and ignoring the fact that I've got winter break homework to do.

Tootles, lovelies.

-Hannah

October Music Obsession

How's it going, everyone?
Are you ready for another music obsession post?
No?
Well too damn bad!!

This month, I have a different sort of music obsession. Instead of a particular band, I've been listening to a song obsessively this month.

And that song is.... *drumroll*

"Falling In Love In A Coffee Shop" by Landon Pigg.

https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSuTDtkd5ByBLK2sfxBqlRjnNpxdRNBxQy7gHRS5WBhzXZkEN2CtA

Now, I admit. I have a bit of a soft spot for love songs. Especially the calm ones, when it's just voice and guitar. I swear, guitar is the sexiest instrument ever. Boys, if you ever want to get a girl, learn how to play guitar. If you don't get a girlfriend within two weeks, I will personally drive over and--

Wow.

Okay. Moving on.

Here are the lyrics.

"I think that possibly, 

Maybe I'm fallin' for you.

Yes there's a chance that I've fallin quite hard over you.

I've seen the paths that  your eyes wander down,

I want to come too.

I think that possibly,

Maybe I'm fallin' for you.

No one understands me quite like you do.

Though all the shadowy corners of me.

I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop that I love so much.

All of the while I never knew.

I think that possibly,

Maybe I'm fallin' for you.

Yes there's a chance that I've fallin' quite hard over you.

I've seen the waters that make your eyes shine,

Now I'm shinin' too."

It's one of my favorites, definitely. See ya'll next month with more of my music favorites!!

September Music Obsession

Hello, everyone! Back with another music review for you! Last month, I was obsessively listening to Vampire Weekend. While those Northeastern beauties still completely have my heart, I've made room for another lovely group.

That's right.

Death Cab for Cutie.

This band has been around for quite a while. Their poetic lyrics and indie style. Lately I've been listening to them as inspiration for my writings. I have them to thank for many essays, papers, and pages of writing. My personal favorites are "I'll Follow You into the Dark", "Transatlanticism," and "The Sound of Settling."

"I'll Follow You Into the Dark" is a simple love song that expresses sweet loyalty.

Love of mine, someday you will die,
But I'll be close behind,
I'll follow you into the dark.

No blinding light,
Or tunnels to gates of white,
Just our hands clasped so tight,
Waiting for the hint of a spark,

If heaven and hell decide,
That they both are satisfied.
Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs,

If there's no one beside you,
When your soul embarks,
Then I'll follow you into the dark.

"Transatlanticism" is rather conceptual, I'll leave it to your interpretation.

The Atlantic was born today,
And I'll tell you how.
The clouds above opened up,
And let it out.

I was standing on the surface,
Of a perforated sphere,
When the water,
Filled every hole.

And thousands upon thousands,
Made an ocean,
Making islands,
Where no island should go.

Oh no.

Those people were overjoyed,
They took to their boats,
I thought it less like a lake,
And more like a moat.

The rhythm of my footsteps crossing the flatlands to your door,
 Have been silenced,
Forever more.
  
The distance is quite simply much too far for me to row,
It seems farther,
Than ever before. 

Oh no.

And finally, "The Sound of Settling" is more upbeat and catchy. Simply can't stop singing it.

I've got a hunger,
Twisting my stomach into knots,
That my tongue was tied off.

My brains repeating
"If you've got an impulse let it out."
But they never made it past my mouth.

Baa bah, 
This is the sound of settling,
Baa bah, baa bah.

Our youth is fleeting,
Old age is just around the bend,
And I can't wait to go grey.

And I'll sit and wonder,
Of every love that could have been,
If only I'd thought of something charming to say.

Well, that's it for now.

Long live Death Cab and long live Indie!!

Omelette Experimentation

The idea of an omelette is daunting. When looking at an omelette, one's first impression is: "How the hell does it get flipped?"

Well, it's not easy.

This is my very first time making an omelette. I had no idea how to go about this, and yes, I did google it. But it's still fun to see me fail, right?

Right?

Ahem. Anyway, start with two eggs.

Now beat the living crap out of those eggs.

Now, add some butter to a pan, and let it melt...

Note:) I added waay too much butter and my omelette turned out greasy. So...I'd say around a tablespoon or less.

Next, add some milk to the egg mixture and beat it some more. You need to get some air into the eggs, so I suggest listening to an upbeat song whilst mixing. My personal favorite for this situation is Hey Ya!  by OutKast.

Note:) Holding a newly opened milk jug and a camera while trying to pour is one of the hardest things ever.

When the pan is hot and ready to go, pour the egg in. don't stir it. Just let it sit and set for a while.

All that brown junk is burnt butter. Gross, right? For this recipe, you need to be fast. As soon as the butter melts, you need to pour the egg in. I made the mistake of waiting too long trying to figure out my camera settings and chopping bacon.

Now you'll notice that the egg has cooked on the bottom, but there is still liquid on the top. Using a spatula, push the egg on the edge of the pan forward, so that the liquid spills onto the cooking surface.

Okay, once the eggs have cooked all the way, it should look like a yellow pancake. This is not how it should look.

But this is how I made it. Yeah.

Add whatever toppings you want. I chose bacon and Italian cheese blend.

The next part is very difficult, and practically impossible to document with a camera. Take the pan, and make sure the egg is loose and moves about freely when you shake it. Carefully slide the egg onto your plate. When the omelette is about half-way onto the plate, fold the remaining egg over the top.

It's harder than it sounds, especially when you have no arm muscle.

By the end, it should look like a better rendition of this.

Mmmm...

Okay, so my first omelette turned out crappy. That doesn't mean yours will. And besides, practice makes perfect. Experiment with different toppings, spices, herbs--whatever you feel like having.

But bacon is the best. Just sayin'.

Flying Overhead

Favorite prompt from this week. Tell me what you think.

I’ve always hated the way dried grass feels on my skin. So prickly and scratchy and hard. Dried grass was ugly too, yellow and brown instead of cheerful green. But during summer, the field in which my friends and I hung out was never able to receive hydration. The sweltering rays of the sun soaked the life out of that field. Yet we still went there, to talk and sit. This happened nearly every day of summer.

                We only stayed there when it was the four of us. Addie, Kelly, Georgia and myself. We’d sit, and then either smoke or drink, depending on what Addie could sneak behind her parent’s backs. The tiny bottles of rum Addie brought us were hardly enough to get us drunk, but we still would lie back in the yellow, prickly grass, dazed while we spoke of boys and summer while watching the endless blue sky.

                Things were ending for all of us. It was our senior year, and we’d all gotten accepted into different colleges. Addie was heading down to South Cali—she would definitely fit in there, with her glamour and all. Kelly was going east, to Virginia. She’d received a design major, something she’d always worked hard for. I was proud of her, I really was. But I didn’t want her to go. None of us did. I had been accepted into a college up in Seattle. I never had much of an idea what I wanted to do in life, other than to leave my small town behind.

                As for Georgia, she preferred to stay. She had chosen to attend the local community college to stay close to her family. She’d always been the odd one out in the group. She rarely drank, never smoked, and had a chipper, positive attitude that I just wanted to smack out of her. She was innocent, with no real aspirations other than to get married and start a family. Nothing was wrong with that, of course, but that was a bit traditional for my tastes.

                We had a total of eleven days left with each other, probably forever. While we’d been close high-school friends, it was a sort of silent agreement we’d made that we’d drift apart. At first, we would forget to call on each other’s birthdays. Then, the Thanksgiving invitations would get “lost” in the mail. And finally, phone numbers would be deleted from our cell phones, after months of unanswered calls. It was bittersweet, really, but we understood that the friendships we’d spent four years building would only hold us back in the long run. It was a matter of accepting, now.

                As we sat back and watched jets from the nearby airport fly overhead, we were probably thinking the same exact thing.

                Time moves so damn fast.

                “Look at em,” Georgia said, her Texan drawl growing more apparent from the rum-spiked Sprite she’d been drinking. “Those planes are going so fast.” Georgia always became more giggly whenever she was drinking. It was kinda funny, especially when any cute boy was around. Little hill-billy Georgia got her flirt on. This was probably the sole reason she refused to drink unless we were here, in our special field.

                “They’re cool,” I smiled, looking towards her freckled face and big blue eyes. She really belonged in Texas. She was the cute little cowgirl with her cowgirl boots and her worn-out jeans and her pigtail braids. Sometimes it was really hard to tell she was about to go out into the big bad world of adulthood. She was just the time of person I wanted to constantly protect, to hold her hand and pack her lunch and tell her that everything was going to be alright, even if it wasn’t. She was our little Georgia.

                “I wanna be a pilot.” Georgia said then.

                It must have been the alcohol—because I suddenly burst out in giggles. That triggered more laughter from Addie and Kelly, of course. “Why?” I asked.

                “Imagine,” Georgia turned on her side, so she was looking at me. I watched her, silently. Perhaps it was because she sounded serious. Georgia never acted serious. “You could go where ever you wanted, whenever you wanted. You can see the world. You can see everything. It’s…it’s like everything is boundless and wonderful and perfect.”

                I watched another jet streak past. I couldn’t help but agree with her.