It's A Right-Handed Man's World

My Beautiful Friends,

As you may have noticed, my blog has been a bit slow lately. However! I have good excuse. No, really. I'm currently typing everything with my left hand because my right arm is in a sling due to torn AC tendons in my right shoulder. While that is healing my blog posts will be slowing way down. Just think of all the things I want to write about to you that will come pouring out then, like an explosive sneeze when you have the flu.

Oh, and I fell off my bike and landed on concrete.

Love, Naps, and Other Perfectly-Imperfect Things,
Your Invalid Hannah Hoo

Wading in the Ocean in Kilts: YES

The champagne-tinted moon hung low and full in the night sky, brushing the tips of the trees and resting on the McDonald's sign while our car paused at a stoplight.

That sentence has been circling my brain continually since last night, waiting to be written. Several weeks ago I wrote a

piece on one of my UK Trip meetings at the London Tea Room, this time our meeting was at the Hall's lovely and snack-laden

abode. Those lemon bars, strawberries, and brownies were just amazing.

I don't have very muchness of time to write right now, but here

are my educational and intelligent notes from the late

half of the trip meeting:

NOTES

“…and possibly encounter scotish people.”

“They might be hiding behind the wall?”

“Oh yes. They are like ninjas, you know.”

…laughter…

“That’s what everybody has said!”

Oy, lets go fetch some wee kilts in Scottyland!

Lakes…

“In the know” for Loch Ness

Many walls is England. They couldn’t keep us in, though!

Happy, happy hat!

“Foooouuuuuurrrrr! Four Four!”

More lakes…

So many snacks, so many choices, so many drinks, can’t reach

a single one. For the want of a lemon there was agony.

HOT AIR BALLOON

Look up the London Dungeon at home.

We’re playing travel Clue!

The Roman Ruins: Will we see ruined Romans?

England: A Lotta Stuff

Brianna’s Siblings: “…the food lured out the local wildlife.

David even got to help in the extraordinary process of feeding the beasts. They

ate sun chips, lemon bars, carrots, brownies, and their father. Excuse me, I

mean they brought the father with them. Opps, there they go, scared by all the

people. The father ate a lemon bar, tomatoes, strawberries, grapes, and some other

snack goodies. David did not help feed him.”

Dad and Mr.Tate are whispering in the corner…about diapers?

The boarder of Whales. Is it made of Whales?! We must see

WHALES! (As in the animals)

Bad, bad David. Choosing a 2. He should have been a 5.

“Baah.” – Deborah

Charlieissocoollike…I show my love by stalking you…

King Offa: The Greedy King. He kept building walls.

Sorry Offa: Your pikes just aren’t attractive enough for us.

You’re dirt to us. And a mound at that.

Do we actually get to Bathe is Bath? And is it’s sister town

Shower? Also, if you are travelling in Bath, are you technically bathing?

Bath: A tourist’s excuse to go skinny-dipping. Also, the

true story behind sightings of the Loch Ness Monster?

“I’m sure they would think we were students.” – David

Would they? SO that means my Mom is a student mother?

Fashion Museum: Joel wants to go.

Deb is licking the Hall’s couch. Do I want to know? …no, its

funnier this way.

“Those children get great discounts!” – Joel, an angry

non-child

Longleat: YES. JUST SAY YES.

“10 am to 5 pm…”

Is it just me or does that picture of the adorable little

boy on the wall have a white Styrofoam booger?

EVERYONE who reads this: Go youtube “Walk on the Wild Side”

David: “blah, blah, blah, blah blah, bal DOCTOR WHO, Bla-“

Us: “WHAT!? Doctor Who? YES!”

“Maiden. It needs love.” – Deb

THEY are still whispering. This is so annoying, WHAT ARE

THEY SAYING?!?

Reeeaally want a drink, but don’t want to pick through the

maze of people to get there. Arrgggg.

Now we are voting stuff off the island. NOT ST.IVES!

Whadda’bout homestays?

“We shouldn’t go to Edinburough.”

Deb: (Sad face)

“Stop using logic against Scotland!” – Deb

What is Brianna waving at…?

“What they should do is take bath…” – Mother Mary

NOW I will go get a drink. FINISHED!

…maybe finished. I won’t put away my sleeping-bag just yet.

Wait, the next meeting is at my house? Time to start hiding

the evidence! :D

END

As you can see, I was paying very close attention to the trip meeting. VERY close attention.

Anyway, must fly! I have far too much homework and far too little time to complete it. I am, you might say, in a jam.

Strawberry, I hope.

Mathematical Jelly,

-Hannah

Me, Myself, and I

This is here for a reason. Explain later when I have more time! :)

-Hannah Hoo

When I Grow Up I Wanna Be An Old Person!

Lovely Loves,

America (scratch that. pretty much all of mankind) is obsessed with not aging. There's anti-aging creams, anti-aging foods, anti-aging surgery, even anti-aging exercises (pray, check for wrinkles, pray again). Growing old has been labelled tasteless, unfashionable, ugly. Well I don't buy it. While people go inject themselves with toxic paralyzing substances and search for the wrinkle cream of everlasting youth, I embrace old age.

Old age is the age ofexcuses, the backstage pass to life, the skeleton key to the playground over the hill. Once you hit a certain age you can get away with just about anything. Riding the motorized cart through grocery stores? Cutting lines? "Accidentally" tripping rude passerby with your cane? Asking that cute senior citizen to help you cross the road? You're old! Go for it!

The Grandma from "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" is an special inspiration to me. "You want to go

insane?" some might ask, but I see it as getting to climb on to my neighbor's roofs (or into their

basements), wearing a cowl, and accusing people of being evil Turks. Sounds like fun to me!

Some other inspiring old people:

-My Grandmas!

-Betty White and the Golden Girls

-Maxine

-The Grandma from "Runaway Bride"

-Mrs.Marple

-The bald,

dancing Six Flags guy who is really a woman (no, seriously. thats a bald

cap.)

-God (so old he's ageless)

-Several other cool oldish people who i can't think of at the moment. They're out there, though.

Somewhere...

Plus, who says being old means not being beautiful? Wrinkles are a sign of a life well laughed and a million smiles. They add character and warmth to a perhaps otherwise mundane face. Plus, if I get age spots i can play connect-the-dot whenever I want!There are definite downsides to aging: the dentures, the arthritis, the need to pee at all hours of the night. But hey,occupational hazards, right?

Plus, just imagine the stories I'll tell my Grandchildren. "Back in the days when I had natural teeth we didn't (insert high-tech invention here). No, no. We used a black box called a VHS player and instead of (insert here) we took a smaller black box and inserted it into a slot in the bigger black box. Really!" Just wait till I tell them about washing dishes by hand, or reading paper books, or riding in mammoth gas-guzzling tanks. Hee hee hee.

Night You Young Whippersnappers,

Hannah Hoo

Blindness, Boogers, and My Childhood

The prince was reaching for my hand, his eyes indigo blue and intense. He knelt on one knee and pulled from his pocket a velvety black jewelry box. My heart thudded. Was this it? Was he- "Hannah," he said, lifting the lid to reveal a sparkling diamond ring, "will you-" AHHHHHRRRRGGGGGG! THE PAIN, THE PAIN! IT BUUUURRRNNNSS! Searing light burnt my irises to a crisp and I moaned in agony, sure that I must be irreversibly blinded. "How could you? What gross injustice have I ever done to you that this is my punishment?!"

"Get out of bed, Hannah. It's 7:30."

As you have probably gathered, my lovely, dreamy sleep was interrupted by mom flicking the bedroom light on. Instead of sleeping late in the warm den of my bed like any normal person, I was forced to actually wake up and walk up stairs (Terrible, I know).It isn't a nice way to begin any day, but the fact it was a Monday tripled the unpleasant factor.

The rest of the day was lost to a blur of homework and typing until I took a short visit to the past. Glory, my 5 year old sister, is very possibly my very late twin. The similarities between her and me when I was her age (behavior, habits, appearance, etc.) is truly uncanny. Proving yet again that she is my clone, Glory unknowingly reenacted an famous scene from my childhood.

Glory: (walking into the living room where Mom and I were doing homework) "Mom?"

Mom: "Hmmmm?"

Glory:"Um...I lost one of my glow-in-the-dark beads." (Looks sheepish).

Mom: "Ok. Where did you lose it?"

Glory: "In my nose."

Mom and I: "WHERE?"

Glory: "Its stuck. See?"

Mom: (peering in) "Wow, its really up there."

Me: "How did you get a bead stuck up your nose?!"

Glory: "Um....well, you know.It...stuck."

We eventually got it out by blowing really hard into her mouth so that it shot out of her nose, free at last. This is a emergency technique that Mom learned at the emergency room when, as a child, I too stuck a plastic object up my nose. It was a Lego light-saber thingie, but still. The similarity is weird. Come to think of it, I don't remember why I stuck a lightsaber up my nose either. Huh.

Anyway, that was the interesting tidbit from Monday. There was some other things, but they are best discussed over tea spiked with memory erasing drugs. Don't ask.

Farefarren, Fellows!

A hint of mystery,

-Hannah

Where's the E*trade Baby?

8 Ways To Enjoy the Super Bowl for the Anti-Football Fan

1.Eat. Wings, pop, pretzals, little weiners; drown your boredom in fun-size snacks.

2.Try to identify the player's tattoos.Is that Elmo on a bicep I see?

3.Laugh at the players. Its quite funny if you think about it. A bunch of grown men (many with unfortunate hair) running up and down a field in canary spandex and stuffed shirts. What sane man would go into a sport where they replay slo-mo shots of you being dog-piled by a bunch of 300 pound men? Not to mention all that slo-mo quivering flesh. Yuck.

4.Try to imitate the announcer's voice and narrate the game yourself. "Welcome back, Ladies and Gentleman, to the 46th Super Bowl! (46? Maybe i'm wrong...) The green men in stretchy-pants are hogging the ball and a man from the white padded shirts team is crying in the corner. He might also have a broken femur. Now all the men are lining up with their rears in the camera, crouching and having a staring contest with the other team. OOO! Someone must have blinked because everyones charging each other. People are getting knocked down, twisted, and sat on right and left. Why can't they just share the ball? These men are millionares! Surely one of them could buy their own football. Wait, wait! A guy with really long hair (is he INSANE? this is football, not a hippie convention) is running towards that little colored rectangle at the end of the field. He crossed a little white line. Everyone is happy. He has now DROPPED the ball and is convulsing in what I beleive is referred to as a "victory dance". This is so confusing. Just a minute ago the player wanted the football so much that he was risking grevious injury for it, but when he gets the ball he just drops it! Forget this. Lets watch some commercials now."

5.Find Waldo: Football Edition. Just look into the crowd of screaming fans and either find waldo or the weirdest fan.

6.Steal the remote and change the channel. Who wouldn't want to watch Psych instead of football? Warning: You will be screamed at and possibly tackled for changing the channel by any football loving male(s) in the room.

7.Throw small missiles at the enemy football players. Chocolate wrappers are esp. effective.

8.THE COMMERCIALS! The best (...and sometimes worst) commercials, ads, and trailers are played during the super bowl. My personal method is to read during the game, pause to watch commercials, laugh, read when game comes back on, etc. Its like the creamy filling of a Twinkie.

Check out some of the best commercials:

Doritos: http://www.youtube.com/CrashtheSuperBowl

E*trade Baby: http://www.youtube.com/user/etrade?v=V8pdDI2O_Y4&feature=pyv&ad=4928448266&kw=etrade%20baby%20commercial&gclid=CP-gkMHR9qYCFQjrKgodswnWDQ

Darth Vader: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R55e-uHQna0

Mash-up: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jjzSJj_vfV0

Well, thats all I can think of at the moment. Go Green...people...team...things! Sports and Idiocy, -Hannah

The Road Tripper's Handbook to Loos

Finally home and loving the freedom of being here. Its funny the things you miss when away from home. For me, it was a long list. You, my own personalized princess and the pea bed, the freedom to be messy and toss my clothing to and fro, wi-fi, lounging in my PJ's, no need to make awkward conversation with barely related relatives, and most of all: our toilet. Go on, make that face all you want, but it's the truth, baby! Allow me to illuminate:

When spending the weekend on a road-trip and staying at my grandmum's house, toilets become memorable events. These are the classic case toilets encountered on a road trip (not for the faint of heart!):

MINE

This is, was, and forever shall be your home toilet. It is dependable, private, and a safe-haven in the scary world of pluming. It accepts you and will never hold a grudge, even after your Great-Great-Great Uncle Philly came to visit.

THE ZEN-ZERE FACILITY

One of the SICO's inside jokes for quite awhile now has been the Zen/Zere ordeal. If you don't know this story, just ask one of us. Anyway, this is a toilet that could be perfect except for it's one, very important Achille's heel: You cannot read the sign. For the life of you, you cannot figure out which door leads to the men's loo and which leads to the woman's loo. Maybe it is a themed joint and you are lost due to not knowing the different names for a male and female armadillo, or maybe the artist who designed the little Man and Woman pictures is a 5 ear old, either way you have to make a decision. Either you hold it and linger in a creep fashion to see which door other people use, or you take the plunge and choose blindly; the consequences be what may.

THE HOBO'S LOO

This bathroom is the stuff of nightmares. You can tell, just from walking in, that this is going to haunt you for years. Your first clue is the dangly strips oftoilet paper, sticking to the floor, walls, toilet, and ceiling. Puddles of unanurally colored soap have leaked out of their jammed dispensers, lying in wait for your wayward foot. Some prankster has switched the hot and cold knobs. Some other prankster, more logical in their scheming ways, flat out stole the sink. The stalls are a repulsive color and the vandal's facebook. Everything from "Jenny Loves Jimmy" to bad poetry has been carved into the plastic partitions. I would go on to describe the toilet, but I don't want to pay your psychiatrist bills later in life.

THE HOLY GRAIL

It has been a long, weary and toilet deprived day on the interstate. Sick of hearing your sibling's favorite Donut Man tape for the 45th time that day, you enter the gritty rest stop or fast food joint's bathroom, expecting to meet the uglier cousin of the loo you encountered at the rest stop two states back, a glorious surprise awaits you! Like a pearl of plumbing and hgenie, the bathroom is shining and fully stocked. You nearly cry as you admire the tastefull wallpaper, gasp in delight at the assortment of soaps and hand towels, surely hear an angelic choir sing out as you admire the shining throne of gold itself. Fainting may ensue depending on whether or not the toilet is really gold.(This has happened to me before.)

THE "OH!" RESTROOM

It looks innocent enough. There is daisy wallpaper, it looks fairly clean, and the building it's in isn't too questionable. You are just about to leave when you notice that what you had thought to be a travel size soap wall dispenser is meant to dispense a variety of other things. And are those really daises? Everything seems questionable now. You leave the bathroom a little more world-wise than you intended on entering.

GRANDMA'S HOUSE

You love your Gran to death, she really is the sweetest, kindest, most loving woman in the world. Her toilet, though? Don't trust it as far as you can throw a McDonald's mechanically separated "chicken" nugget. First of all, it has no door. It is more of a floor to ceiling shutter with wooden slats and no handle, making a sliding barrier that isn't sound proof or little sibling proof in the least. Second, you can't touch anything. Everything being as ancient as it is, you are justifiable afraid of touching, and thus breaking, anthing. You tiptoe, breath in shallow breaths, and only touch the light switch if you dare. The only window has a lovely, personal view of her neighbor's living room, spoiling their dinner and making for awkward encounters. The worst part, of course, is the loo itself. It isn't as much a toilet as it is a "water closet". A similar model was used in King Henry the 8th's castle, pretty sure. Flushing the toilet is a dangerous ordeal as well. You have to press lightly enough not to break it, hard enough to actually flush, and in just the right place or else tough luck. 5 times out of 10, assistance is necessary.

This is just a light sampling of the vast family of toilets. Gross, disturbing, and crude as it is, any hard core road tripper will testify to the afore-mentioned. Plus, whats the fun of seeing such terrible sights if you can't gross out your friends with the grim details? ;)

Green Eggs and Ham,

~Hannah