"Valentine's Day!" aka "Discount Chocolate Eve!"

So it's Valentine's Day. Desperation Day. The National Celebration of Love. Or, as I like to call it, Discount Chocolate Eve. (FYI, I did write this on V-Day but forgot to post it until now. Fail.)

Once again the year finds me alone. Still missing my better half, the Romeo to my Juliet, the Rhett to my Scarlet (or Link?), the Pepper to my Salt, the Peanut Butter to my Jelly, the Mustard to my Ketchup, the Prince Charming to my Damsel in Distress, the Punch-line to my Joke.

"But how could that be?!" you cry out. "You are so witty and charming and beautiful!" (Ahem. Say it.SAY IT.)

The real truth to the matter, in all honesty, is that it really doesn't bother me. Many of my friends who find themselves single on this holiday are heartbroken, sobbing as they watch romantic comedies and eating Nutella straight from the jar. "WHY?" they wail, "I am destined to be forever alone!"

When I woke up this morning though, the first thought in my head was "It's snowing!" followed by "Where did these socks come from that i'm wearing? I've never seen them before..." and then, somewhere in the back of my head, "Isn't today Valentine's Day? More sweets for me!" I've never really had that panic of being single before, the fear of becoming a crazy old cat lady in the wilderness. I mean, c'mon. Obviously I will be either an old fish lady or an old hedgehog lady. Get real, people.

All joking aside, I really have never panicked about not having a boyfriend. I guess since I've never outright tried to pursue dating that I don't feel like I've failed or am missing out on anything. Maybe when I'm a bit older I'll be more regretful with a lonely Valentine's Day. But which is worse? Having a boyfriend who doesn't do anything to express his love on Valentine's Day or to be single and still have a mystery future to look forward to? Plus asking someone out just to not be alone on Febuary 14th seems unfair to all involved. 

Speaking of expressing love, I really feel sorry for guys sometimes. They are expected to pull out all the stops and wine and dine the special girl in their life at any cost. Expectations can be so high that there is no way to meet them. On the other hand, though, they don't get out of not doing anything. Just because a guy can't buy a hot air balloon or take his wife on a trip to Paris doesn't mean he shouldn't ignore the holiday completely. If you are with the right girl who doesn't expect diamonds and caviar than any effort, even just buying her favorite flowers or taking her out to eat at a place she likes, is appreciated and sweet. Sometimes it really is the thought that counts.

For all you single ladies (and gents), here is a list to remind you of the perks of being single on V-Day:

-Sleeping in.
-Sweat pants and pjs are your new best friends.
-Comb? Razor? Shampoo? What are these things you speak of?
-Less people to buy gifts for, more money!
-Too bad I don't have to share all my chocolate with someone else. TOO BAD.

And for everyone who has found their special someone (always makes them sound like a ring of keys or an overdue library book), here is a list of pros:

- Those ooey-gooey butterflies in your stomach are going to be working overtime.
- Surprises and Sweet Gestures.
-Getting cards from someone other than family members.

So I guess what I'm saying is I'm not joining the "I'm single and proud and crying on the inside" women's parade or the "Oh honey-boo I LUV U 4-EVA'!" gang. I'm perfectly happy spending the day expressing my love to my family and friends and chocolate. Oh, and in the arms of my one true love: my scarlet snuggie.

And wearing my bunnie hat.

Love and Other Forms of Chocolate,

-Hannah
(Maybe I went overboard on the gifs this time...)

Putting the Fun in Funeral

One moment I was in my heavenly scarlet snuggie, the next, defying the basic laws of physics trying to run up a wet concrete hill in my heels. Time passes like that on sleepy days like this. I huddled under my lemon-yellow duck umbrella (as seen in my profile picture to the left), perfect for a funeral.

I've squirmed through many a grim funeral, and i've come to a few conclusions about needing to liven' thing up around here. Morbid as it may be to dwell on, something must be done. Before I write this I just want to make clear that I mean no offense to anyone, esp. the dearly departed (though they are probably much to busy to be preoccupied with my ramblings). I've lost friends and family like everyone, but I know that death is only the beginning for me and for all Christians. This life is like an elevator ride; despite being so breif it feels like it takes forever due to the painful elevator music and creaking pulleys. I might have to leave my earthly body behind (Goooodbye and good ridance!) but when I finaly arrive into God's Kingdom I'm going to be so indescribably joyful, I will barely remember my previous life. It sounds like a "Puff the Magic Dragon" fairy tale, but its one happily ever after that you can depend on if you are a believer. And thats why funerals should be a celebration, not a pity-party.

First of all, why black? I mean, besides being a slimming color, it looks so...so...black. I can just imagine on the announcements: "Location: StudMuffin Funeral Home. Dress: Costume of your choice except Clown. Those are just creepy." Well, maybe not a themed costume funeral. Maybe a classier version, like everyone has to dress like 1940 Hollywood starlets or in Elizabethian wigs.

My favorite part (if you can say that) about a funeral is when people stand up and share their funny moments and fond memories. Laughter is the best medicine, after all. How fun would it be if everyone would receive a balloon. Then, as the last chorus of "Moves Like Jagger" ended, everyone would release their balloons into the sky. Not exactly environmentally friendly, but sure is memorable.

Oh, and food. There has to be lots of food. Its time to leave the mint-brownies that vague taste of pickles in the trunk. Not just mashed potatoes and jello molds of Elvis's face but non-traditional yummy food, the departed's favorite foods. Pizza, french bread, hamburgers, and more. Desserts are, of course, a must. Pecan pie, gooey butter cake, crepes, and a chocolate fountain.

Music is another biggie. Hymns can be very sweet, but it would be fun to mix it up a bit. After Amazing Grace and a savory medly of contemporary worship, why not spice thing up with Toby Mac? 2NE1? Well, whatever it is it'll have to be pretty loud to be heard over the fireworks that any sane person would demand at their funeral. That or a flash mob.

The stylists at funeral homes should be fired. The pepto-bismol lipstick, the powdered afros; no. It is a crime. How about hiring someone who actually knows what they are doing for a change? Not to mention its never too late to try something daring, even beyond the grave. That tangerine nail polish they never got around to trying? The peach eyeshadow they weren't daring enough to wear? Its never too late for a fashion statement.

Every funeral I've attended its like a florist shop has exploded. Why not take that a step furthur and sprinkle rose petals on the ground? Or instead of a stuffy funeral home they could host funerals in one of the favorite places of the deceased? Alog with picturesq meadows I beleive McDonalds, T.J. Max, and Wall-Mart would be popular funeral spots.

I know one thing that I must have at my funeral: everyone must receive a little bag of Reese's PB Cups as a parting gift to remember me by. But don't plan on getting it anytime soon!

Mystery Sauce,
-Hannah Hoo

FEED ME YOUR NOMS.

Panko!

I WANT FOOD. There is no other way to put it. My tummy is imploding from the sheer emptiness right now and will begin growling in a few minutes like Laur- ahem, Jimmer's usually does. Aka, sounding like a baby dragon has gotten lost in your sweater and is calling for their mother.

This will only worsen my condition, but here is a delectable collection of some of my favorite foods that I want right now:

Shrimp Tempura!

Pizzzzzza!

Lamb Tikka Masala

Yoshinoya's Eel Rice Bowl. Scratch that, anything from Yoshinoya.

Tokyo's Crepes. To.Die.For.

British Bakeries!

Fish and Chips

Scones! 

With tea!

Naan Bread!

Fried Squid Tentacles!

Enough for now. I might just start gnawing this laptop if  the beast is not fed soon.

Happy Noms,

-Hannah

 (P.S. Can you tell I was writing this while doing Japanese?)

My Father is Dead, but it's Ok, We Have Nan Bread!

One of the universal truths of life: Kids say the darnedest things. So do adults.

A perfect example of this would be going to lunch with my family (sans Jonmark, he's blowing things up). It was after church and the girls were groaning for food, Food, FOOD! Communion wine, biscuits, and the food of fellowship just don't cut it sometimes.

So we headed to perhaps my favorite eatery of all time (brace yourself, Steph): The House of India! Oooooh, its so good. Red Tandoori chicken, chole, NAN!!!!!, Kheer, jalebi, the list goes on and on. I'm literally drooling right now just thinking about it. Best part it the food is quality and quantity, they have a buffet.

As a middle-class American family, we follow the buffet principle: Eat Until Your Stuffed. And we did. And it was delicious. And we wobbled out the door later and took long, lazy, satisfied naps of well-fed people. But i've skipped the story, so lets go back to the savory bits.

Recently we've been watching "Bizzare Foods", a tv show with a host who eats anything and lies about liking half of it. Most of the foods are from countries where the blood and guts are still used in pop cuisine, so we've seen some pretty gross stuff go into this guy's mouth. Anyway, I was asking my mom and dad if there was a kind of food that we should try next. We've tried Japanese, Indian, Mexican, American, and Junk Food. Whats next?

Dad, quoting one of the more...akward...Bizarre Foods episodes yelled out: "WE HAVEN'T TRIED BULL TESTICLES!" then calmly went to go get some more nan. Oh, my father. My father.

Just for a change of pace, we decided this morning to visit another church that alot of old friends went to (Thats another story onto itself) and I got to see Monica's boyfriend, his lovely daughter, and his beard (Wink, wink, hint, hint ;)

Anywho, the girls were telling us about their Sunday School classes over lunch. That Lazarus guy got raised from the deads again, we got christmas cookies, the usual. What was UnUsual, however, was Emma's comment:

Mom: So, how were your teachers?

Glory: Ok.

Mom: What were their names?

Glory and Emma: I dunno. They gave us cookies.They were old cookies.

Glory: Emma told the teacher about Dad.

Me: What about Dad?

Emma: My first Dad was dead in the war.

Everyone: WHAT?

Dad: I'm not dead!

Emma: (patronizingly) No, no, no. My FIRST Dad. You second Dad. Your not dead. (Pats Dad's hand).

Mom and I: (Snort, giggle, uncontrollable laughter)

Mom: (realization!) Oh no!

Us: What?

Mom: When we went to go pick the girls up I told them Dad had gotten lost on the way over to pick them up!No wonder the teacher looked so shocked!

Everyone: (Laughing to the point of tears)

So thats what you can expect from a lunch with my family: Incorrect facts and the loud announcements that may be slightly embarrassing to everyone but my father. If you never want to come to my house again, i understand. You'll most likely end up embarrassed or rumored dead. Eat at your own risk!

Gill-Stuffed Goodness,

-Hannah