On easy weekends

So it’s official: The Steelers kick ass and take names. Steelers-Packers, February 6^th. This year’s Super Bowl ought to be EPIC.

I obviously spent Sunday afternoon watching football, but the rest of the weekend is worth commenting on as well. 

On June

And so hell begins.

At dinner with Steph and Jess on Saturday, Steph and I agreed that we ought to be paid overtime for our work-related nightmares. It's either that, or worker's comp, and it's only fair, damnit.

I get the sense that I'll be having a number of such nightmares this month, as the Foundation approaches fiscal year-end. We're understaffed and underpaid, and we're all majorly over-worked. Relief comes in the form of a new coworker on June 7, but she won't be able to do much until we've got her trained – and THAT won't happen until July at the earliest. And then, it'll still take her at least 6 months to get up to speed, and then another 6 months after that to be good. And of course, she'll have very little support, other than what we can provide her, until then.

This place is such a bitch.

At least personal dramas are at a minimum, for the moment. I don't have any pressing issues of my own, but I've been playing therapist and Shoulder to Cry On for a number of others for a little while now. That load is lightening, I guess you could say, but that's not necessarily a good thing. I feel oddly as though I've lost F.'s trust for the moment; I think she'll come back, but for the time being, she's keeping me at arm's length. Like I said, that lifts a bit of weight off my shoulders, but it adds on weight of a different sort. I think I'd prefer having the former.

But I suppose I shouldn't complain. I'm looking at the bright side of life, right? I have my health. I have a job. I have good friends. I have fun. I'm not entirely happy, but I'm fairly content. I have beer in the fridge and Jack in the cabinet. Really, I've got nothing all that bad to gripe about.

I should go buy some Coke.

On eating with company

I like eating with my coworker for several different reasons:

1. She eats very healthily and, even though I know she won’t judge me if I don’t eat as carefully as she does, I’m much more careful about what I eat when I’m around her. She’s actually really considerate about not going on and on about calories and fat, but I still watch what I eat when I’m around her. This is a good thing, since I did make a resolution to eat healthier foods this year.
2. She and I do the same work, so we gripe to each other about it at lunch. I mean, she’ s really the only other person who gets what I’m doing and vice versa, so it’s nice that we have each other to complain to.
3. If I’d been the only new person, I wouldn’t have anyone to eat with. Just having company at lunch is nice; much as I don’t mind eating by myself, I would prefer to be with someone else.
4. We have a similar sense of humor, and I think our personalities are alike as well, so we get along really easily. If she brings up something funny that happened at work, chances are that I noticed and found it hilarious too.

But I also dislike eating with her:

1. Goddamnit, I like unhealthy food. Sure, eating healthily is literally good for me, but every now and then I want the whole damn donut, not a measly half.
2. It also drives me insane when people talk about their significant others endlessly and needlessly. She will find any and every reason in our conversations to bring up her boyfriend, from our manager’s really bad teaching style to the diet that she’s on.

The good greatly outweighs the bad, however, and I really do enjoy her company. I wasn't sure if I would make friends at this place, so I'm glad that we have each other.

On misery and company

Earlier this week, people mentioned that I'd been avoiding them recently, and this is a true statement. When I'm under any kind of duress, I tend to avoid some people and turn to others, and I'm not going to apologize for this behavior.

This time around, however, I wasn't able to specify why some were avoided and some were not. Clearly, I'm not the only person in the world who has issues; it shouldn't be that difficult to find someone who can empathize with being part of a dysfunctional family. I put my finger on it earlier tonight, though - I'm the only person in my set of friends who has issues of this particular nature. That automatically narrows the list of people who understand down to none.

Another reason - some people are more comfortable about asking me if I'm doing okay than others. I think the reason why my roommates and the #sdcolleges crowd never ask how I'm doing is because they think I don't want to talk about it, and to a certain degree, they're right. It's a painful issue, and aside from two friends of mine, no one really knows how painful.

But there's a reason why those two friends, Fadiya and KLo, know - it's because they're comfortable with asking me how I'm doing, and receiving a negative answer in response. If anyone else asks that question, I automatically say, "I'm fine" - and they think nothing of it. Of course they don't - how are they to know if I actually am fine or not?

Well, Fadiya and KLo know. They can hear it in the tone of my voice and they can read it on my face, even when I'm trying my damnedest to hide it. They know, and they ask the question again, and they continue asking until they get the real answer.

And they won't freak out if I happen to be feeling like crap. I remember when a friend of mine asked if I needed therapy, because I showed a little anger over a bad memory I have of family and snow. After she asked that, she basically told me that I needed to cheer up because "no one likes a grumpy Hanna."

KLo and Fadiya's response? "Fuck. That. Shit." They like a grumpy Hanna about as much as everyone else does (i.e. not even a little), but unlike the afore-quoted friend of mine, they actually try to help me through my grumpiness. They know that I'm not flying off the handle just because it amuses me. No, they dislike Grumpy Hanna because that means that something is wrong, that something is bothering me, and they're going to try to help me through it so I can be happy again.

My friends - they know I'm strong, they know that I keep things like fear and anger bottled up inside. The difference between those two and everyone else, however, is that they aren't afraid when I'm anything less than perfectly happy. If I need to cry, if I need to scream, if I need to be pissed the fuck off - fine. They won't bat an eyelash. They'll be sad with me, they'll be mad with me - and they'll let me ride out my emotions without once freaking out over the fact that I'm showing any.

So that's the reason why I turn to them when I'm depressed - because they'll help me through it, without giving me any stupid "Cheer up!" advice. Because I'm not afraid to be depressed around them.

Hope that clears things up. I'm trying to socialize with the #sdcolleges crew more often, but if I need to avoid you every now and then, I hope you understand.

Where we love weddings but hate hangovers

The photographers are putting up photos of the wedding! I’m excited and at the same time kind of mortified – I know they got some embarrassing shots of me dancing. Still – they did an amazing job, from what I saw at the wedding.

On to the last event – the after-party!
---
The cast of characters! (I’ve taken Caroline, Amy and Erica off the list because they didn’t stick around for the after party).

BRIDAL PARTY
Jessica – the bride, whom I’ve known since 6th grade
Stephi – friend of the bride, my best friend
Annie – friend of the bride
Thuy – friend of the bride
Marianna – bridesmaid
Me (Hanna) – friend of the bride

The above girls and I have all known each other for at least 8 years; some of us have known each other for over 13.

Marisa – maid of honor; bride’s younger sister
Alexia – friend of the maid of honor

GROOM’S PARTY
Chris – the groom
Levi (aka D-Bag) – best man
Chase (aka Keebler) – groomsman
Greg (aka Gregasaurus) – friend of the groom
Creepy Nick – friend of the groom

The above guys are all frat brothers. That is a key fact – these guys are all frat boys.
---
The original plan was to go to Club V20 in Long Beach – none of us had been there before, but Thuy really wanted to check it out. After I picked up the boys from the beach and returned to the hotel, the girls and I settled in for a quick nap and a change in attire. We had told the boys to meet us in the lobby at 9pm, since we needed to get to the club by 10pm in order to get in for free.

After changing into our party clothes, we got a phone call from Marianna asking us to help clear out the newlyweds’ bedroom, which Marianna and Marisa had been prepping. After dragging suitcases and shopping bags to our room, and after Marianna and Marisa elected to stay in their wedding clothes (Marisa didn’t have club wear with her), we trooped downstairs to the lobby, where we met Levi.

Levi and a couple of the girls went up to the guys’ room for some pre-gaming, while Annie, Stephi and I lingered in the lobby. We ran into the couple, who were getting some food and going to their room (they didn’t actually hang out with us either, since they had other things on their mind). The entire group came downstairs after a few minutes, at which point Levi informed us of a “minor” problem – Creepy Nick was only 20 years old (LOL – minor. Get it?).

Well none of us wanted to leave Nick by himself, so we looked up some 18+ clubs in the L.A. area. Most of the group went back to the hotel room, while a handful of us went to grab some grub – Steph, Annie, Levi, Chase, and myself, to be exact. What ensued was hilarity.

In Levi’s words, this is what happened when we rolled up to the drive-thru window:

Carl's Jr. Lady: hands us our food after dropping one cup
You: tries to hand her money for the food
Carl's Jr. Lady: waves hands frantically saying no no
You: "But we haven't paid for the food yet lady”
Carl's Jr. Lady: still waving her hands at us like a crack addict
Me: "Just go! Let’s get the hell outta here"

Basically – we got four combos for free. Best thing to happen to us all day long.
When we got back to the hotel, the rest of the party was well on its way to getting smashed. We all reached the conclusion that we’d rather hang out in the hotel rather than go out to a club, so that’s what we did. We all drank a little (even Annie took a sip of Levi’s hideously strong rum and coke) and some of us drank a LOT. At some point during the night, Chase became the Secret Shot Sergeant, Marianna shotgunned some beers with Nick, and Levi and Marisa also got exceedingly drunk.

We eventually had to move to our room, since Jeff and Whitney (a couple from Kansas that I hadn’t previously mentioned, since I never talked to them) needed to get some sleep. And back in our room, things only got crazier.

Marianna straddled and humped me at least three times. Chase fell onto a suitcase, then fell onto the floor trying to get off of it. Annie jumped on the bed, causing Greg to hit his head (let’s face it – he’s really tall). Nick tickled everybody. Marisa spooned. Stephi glomped. Levi and Alexia talked only with one another. At one point, Marianna, Annie, Marisa, and Chase were conducting Operations – Operation: Cookies; Operation: Break into a wedding party at the hotel; Operation: Booze. I LOL-ed (I was sober and they were ridiculous). At one point, Levi and Marisa got into an argument. And security eventually came to break the party up (of course I was the one to talk to them).

A group of them went to DelTaco, while Steph and I tried sleeping. A number of people trooped in and out of our room, though, and when Marianna and Marisa got back, we stayed up a little while longer to gossip with each other about the day’s events.

The next morning, we woke up rather reluctantly to get some breakfast. We thought it would be just the four of us dining with the couple, but when we got down to the lobby, all of the guys had made it downstairs. Some of them definitely looked worse for wear, but we all made it safely across the street to Denny’s. We rehashed some of the night’s events for the couple’s amusement as we ate.

After breakfast, Steph and I gathered our belongings and said good-bye to our roomies and to Chris and Jessica. We met Greg in the lobby – I’d offered him a ride to the airport – and made our way home. I took Greg to LAX, Stephi to Downey, and myself to San Diego.

Not long after I got home, I received a call from Levi inviting us down to the pool. Turns out we forgot to say good-bye to the rest of the boys. Whoops!

All in all, a fabulous wedding party!

Here comes the bride

Part 2: The wedding!
---
Here's the list again, for those of you keeping track at home:

BRIDAL PARTY
Jessica – the bride, whom I’ve known since 6th grade
Stephi – friend of the bride, my best friend
Annie – friend of the bride
Thuy – friend of the bride
Marianna – bridesmaid
Me (Hanna) – friend of the bride

The above girls and I have all known each other for at least 8 years; some of us have known each other for over 13.

Caroline – bridesmaid
Marisa – maid of honor; bride’s younger sister
Alexia – friend of the maid of honor
Erica – friend of the bride
Amy – friend of the bride

GROOM’S PARTY
Chris – the groom
Levi (aka D-Bag) – best man
Chase (aka Keebler) – groomsman
Greg (aka Gregasaurus) – friend of the groom
Creepy Nick – friend of the groom

The above guys are all frat brothers. That is a key fact – these guys are all frat boys.
---
The ceremony took place at a small church in Palos Verdes, so Steph and I made plans to leave at about 8:45am from Downey, just to make sure we got there in time (it began at 10am). I woke up at 7:30am, and got ready much too fast as usual, so I set out from my house at about 8:20am. I called Steph - no answer. I called her home phone number, and her dad picked up the phone. I asked to speak to Steph - and he said she was still in bed.

Of course, I asked him to wake her up. Steph got on the phone and I assured her that she would still have some time to get ready, since I planned on swinging through Starbucks. I did ask her if we had room to take Annie, since the three of us plus Marianna had rented a room at the Doubletree so we could stay the night (Annie later ended up saying she couldn't stay the night, however, so she drove herself to the wedding). After I'd bought my coffee and croissant, I drove to Steph's place, where she was running around spastically dressing herself, packing for the night, and signing Jessica and Chris' card. I mostly tried to stay out of her way.

Steph got ready in record-time, and we piled everything into my car. After dropping off some equipment at my house, we got on the freeway at about 9:20am, with a projected arrival time of 9:55am. It was cutting a bit close for my comfort, but it couldn't be helped.

With the help of Steph's GPS and my old-school written directions, we found the church with very little problems, arriving just in time. After being walked to our seats by the ushers/groomsmen, Steph and I settled ourselves next to Annie and Alexia, and behind Amy and Erica. Thuy still hadn't arrived - no surprise there, since she's chronically late (she actually ended up arriving after Jessica had already walked down the aisle!). Steph and I were actually a bit early, so we had a chance to sit and check out the crowd. The wedding party was relatively small, with mostly family and old family friends of the bride and groom present.

The ceremony began with the lighting of the candles by the siblings of the bride and groom, and seating of the grandparents and the parents. Chris walked his mother to her seat and I was so taken aback by how much he'd changed in appearance since I'd last seen him that I actually didn't realize it was him until he and his groomsmen trooped to the front of the church. Marianna, Caroline, and Marisa walked in, followed by an adorable flower girl. Then we were all asked to rise in expectation of the bride.

Jessica was absolutely stunning. Her dress was a confectionery of lace and tulle, with intricate embroidery and crowned by a veil. I could tell that Jessica had been crying earlier, but she looked purely happy as she came down the aisle. I had to look back at Chris every now and then, and he looked like he was going to burst, he was so thrilled.

The ceremony went off with no major glitches; Chris flubbed one of his lines because he was so eager to say it, which was simply adorable. The minister instructed Chris a few times that he was to protect Jessica, since she was his most precious gift, and that made me nearly burst out laughing because I had this image in my head of Chris waving a monopod in his hand to fend off attackers (apparently that and a towel rack are his preferred weapons; he used the first when a suspicious man knocked on the door and the second when several coyotes intercepted Jessica on her way home). The minister was great, cracking a coupe of jokes here and there; when the ceremony (which was relatively short) came to a close, he said, "And now, for the best part" as an intro to the husband and wife kiss.

After the Mr. and Mrs. walked down the aisle together, the party congregated outside the church on a patio overlooking the Pacific Ocean - and what a spectacular view! The photographers took lots of photos of the entire group, of the families, and so forth; my friends and I all snapped some photos, and then we made our way to the reception and the Chart House in Torrance. Again - the view was amazing. We were literally hanging over the sand, looking out onto the coast, which was absolutely perfect that day - small waves and clear skies.

The reception was very sweet; speeches were made (I think Marisa's was best), drinks were drunk (and some people got very, very drunk), dances were danced. The young people were all grouped at one table, far away from the wedding party's table; the Kansans sat at one end, the Downey-ites (Downeians? Downey-ers?) sat at the other, and Erica and Amy were stuck in-between. We mostly chatted to the people we knew, and danced with the people we knew. We all ended up chatting a bit after the reception, though, mostly because the guys needed a ride back to the hotel and the girls had multiple cars. Annie, Alexia, Steph, and I loitered for a while on the sand, watching the wedding party take photos, so we could schlepp the guys back with us, but as it turns out, only two ended up needing rides. Levi and Chase wanted to swim a little while, so I agreed to pick them up later, and the rest of us returned to the hotel. After checking in to the hotel, the four of us went to the mall right across the street so Steph could buy a shirt (we had planned on going clubbing). While at the mall, I got a call from Levi, and headed back to the beach to pick them up.

The car ride back to the hotel was amusing; we were using Steph's GPS, but Levi failed at navigating. I ended up making several left and right turns before I got back onto the PCH, at which point I could navigate for myself. The guys were highly entertaining, though, which was great - I hadn't really talked to any of them during the reception, so I didn't know what to expect. We all ended up talking easily, with lots of joking, so I expected great things for that night - more on that to come!

Kissing the maiden name good-bye

What a night!

This past week was chock-full of events revolving around Jessica and Chris’ wedding; as I was a part of the bride’s side of the festivities, I attended her bachelorette party on Thursday. The wedding itself was on Saturday, and the after-party carried on w ell into Sunday morning.
---
First – a list of names you might have to refer to, as the stories unfold:

BRIDAL PARTY
Jessica – the bride, whom I’ve known since 6th grade
Stephi – friend of the bride, my best friend
Annie – friend of the bride
Thuy – friend of the bride
Marianna – bridesmaid
Me (Hanna) – friend of the bride

The above girls and I have all known each other for at least 8 years; some of us have known each other for over 13.

Caroline – bridesmaid
Marisa – maid of honor; bride’s younger sister
Alexia – friend of the maid of honor
Erica – friend of the bride
Amy – friend of the bride

GROOM’S PARTY
Chris – the groom
Levi (aka D-Bag) – best man
Chase (aka Keebler) – groomsman
Greg (aka Gregasaurus) – friend of the groom
Creepy Nick – friend of the groom

The above guys are all frat brothers. That is a key fact – these guys are all frat boys.

On with the story! This post will cover the bachelorette party, and I’ll devote the next two posts to the wedding and the after-party.
---
The bachelorette party began on Thursday, at 9:30pm. We girls gathered at Doubletree in Torrance, home to the out-of-state folk for the days of the wedding festivities (some of the bride’s party flew in from NY, and all of the groom’s men came from Kansas). Caroline had arranged the entire party, starting with a giant Escalade limo hired to cart us crazy women (there were 11 of us) from place to place. We were to begin with a comedy show, but apparently we didn’t purchase tickets ahead of time and the place was sold out, so we skipped that step, and moved on to the next – the Hustler store!

Poor Jessica. Jessica was the epitome of the blushing bride; when we got into the store, I don’t believe she ever stopped blushing. Marisa is apparently quite the vibrator connoisseur, which came as a shock to her older sister; shopping with Marisa was an experience, though. Girl tested every vibrator there, unable to satisfy her demands for a stronger vibration until she found a bullet. After Marisa made her purchase, we trooped back to the limo for the final stop of the evening – Saddle Ranch!

We of course made Jessica ride the bull (what’s a trip to the Saddle Ranch worth if you don’t have a friend ride the bull?). The bride’s maids bought a Big Beer (5 LITERS OF BEER!) and drank quite a bit of it all by themselves. I’m not the biggest beer fan in the world, but I had about half a glass to help them out. The bartender gave us free shots as well, and Marianna, Steph, and I all bought shot glasses (which came with a free shot of sex on the beach) for ourselves. We stayed at the Ranch, with Marisa, Alexia, and Steph all taking a ride on the bull, until closing time (at which point, they played "Closing Time").

Best memories of the night: Marisa staying on the bull for a max of three seconds, a girl wearing a dress was tipped by the bull controller to flash the entire bar her red lace thong, and the limo ride back to the hotel. Marianna had an uncontrollable bladder; at a red light, she climbed out of the limo and ran across the street to pee behind a 7-11. That’s class, people. She and Marisa were pretty much gone; Marisa apparently slept until Friday evening. Steph and I went back to Downey; I dropped her off and got back to my house at around 3:30am. I crept inside, doing my best not to wake anyone, and promptly passed out, not waking up until about 11am.

Good times!

Hay Fever

I need to GET. THE. HELL. OUT! of San Diego. For a variety of reasons, mostly personal (it's not you, SD. It's me) I have been feeling too tied up and too tied down. I'm getting this overwhelming sensation of claustrophobia - the streets are too familiar, the people are too similar, and frankly, I'm bored. My job doesn't challenge me. My SCSC positions keep me busy, and for that I am incredibly thankful, but it's about the only excitement I have going for me at the moment. My classes haven't been as taxing as I thought they'd be - for all that midterms just passed (though I actually still have one coming up), I'm not nearly as stressed as I should be.

My best friend hides in her room, away from me.

[Note: I removed a portion of this post, after deciding that I'd rather have her hear my complaints from me in person - though who knows when we'll next talk. For all that we live with one another, we don't speak very often.]

My best college friends gad around town without inviting me along. My RA friends and I are friends no longer, since they're RAs and beyond contacting me for nights out. My SCSC compatriots and I aren't so much friends as we are friendly colleagues. My #sdcolleges friends don't talk to me, unless I step into their territory, a place where I feel distinctly and unpleasantly different.

I need to meet new people. I need to build new relationships. I need new scenery, I need to hit new streets. I need new friends, who won't freak out when I get sad or angry. The old friends are good, but I'm slowly beginning to realize that they aren't great. That I can't be in any type of relationship where I'm the emotional bolster, without any sort of support in return.

I'm so unhappy at the moment - unhappy with my surroundings (my apartment isn't close to feeling like home), unhappy with my city (I don't feel like I can call it mine), unhappy with my friends, unhappy with my job. It isn't as though I haven't tried - I've applied for different jobs, I've done a whole slew of extracurriculars in an effort to get involved and meet new people at the same time. I've toured SD fairly extensively, and I do enjoy the city. I just don't love it. It isn't large enough for me, anymore.

I need new. I need unknown. I need to throw myself into challenges, into my life's work. And mostly, I need OUT.

But for now, I'll settle for venting.

Frequent driver miles

This upcoming week should be pretty thrilling, as far as this summer goes (godDAMN, I'm bored).
I only just returned last night, from a weekend in Downey, but I'll be making my way back to good ol' suburbia on Tuesday. I'll probably spend the evening at the movies with my mother - we both want to see "Hairspray" - and stay the night.
Wednesday, I'll be driving up to Ventura, to spend a couple of days with my sister. Jane doesn't get off of work until 6pm, but I'd rather not fight 101 traffic at the height of rush hour, so I'll probably get into Ventura early. I'll probably cruise around and sightsee, if there are sights worth seeing.
Thursday will be spent in the company of my sister; we'll probably hang out at the beach.
I'll be returning to Downey sometime early Friday afternoon, pick up Annie from work, and head to the beach for our annual bonfire/reunion. Our yearly shindigs are usually a bundle of fun; I anticipate the same for this summer's reunion.
Saturday morning, I'll return to San Diego (hopefully in better driving conditions than this past Saturday - why is there always traffic on the I-5, no matter what time of day I'm driving?), and the following week, I'll begin working at the girls-only film camp.
The following weekend - Friday the 17th - I'll be making my way up to Ventura yet again, for Sloshball, an annual event celebrating a bunch of birthdays that fall sometime during that month. Don't ask me; it's a thing between my sister's boyfriend, and his friends. You basically play drunk softball.
I'll leave San Diego after work, probably around 8pm. I'll pick up Stephi along the way, and get into Ventura around midnight. We'll get sloshed on Saturday, and return on Sunday.
Like I said, lots of driving. But all for good times, so yay!

Let's get married

OMG, EVERYONE AND THEIR DONKEY IS GETTING ENGAGED!
Jessica and Megan (both engaged to Chris', coincidentally) have been proposed to. Brian has popped the question. And Zach got down on one knee first, out of all of my high school friends (Megan is actually a college friend), and started off this chain reaction. It's... *Hanna struggles for an adjective* BIZARRE, knowing that my friends are all preparing for marriage. I mean, it's also wonderful, and I'm extremely happy for them! But knowing that we're all of marriageable (or engageable, at least) age is just... *struggles once more* FRIGHTENINGLY REALISTIC.
Damn reality. Damn it to insufferable chick flicks, 24-7 hell. I feel almost obligated to stay single, now. SOMEONE has to be Spinster Cat-Lady.
Actually, I prefer dogs. Can I be Spinster Dog-Lady, with my Jack Russells and whatevers?

Not much to say

Life has, for the most part, been uneventful. A few events (ba-dum cha!) have come and gone, but all-in-all, it's been very quiet.
I haven't decided whether this is a good thing or not.

It's usually around this time of year that I do one of my biannual retrospective reflections (now THAT is a mouthful!). In June, it's my end-of-another-school-year reflection, and on December 31 I sum up the entire 12 months.
Very exciting stuff.
(An aside: I am typing this all one-handed, as I am currently eating as ice cream bar and require at least one hand to do so; letting the ice cream bar just sit on my tongue while I type furiously with both hands - which I'm doing at this exact moment - results in a frozen tongue and a tired jaw. Stop innuendo-ing, you pervert. Anyway, the point is that I've discovered that I'm a marginally better typist with my left hand than my right. I think it's because the most important letters of the alphabet seem to be on the left side of the keyboard. Interesting.)

But on to the retrospective reflection for June of 2007.
I haven't yet come to terms with the end of the year, actually. This past Tuesday was the End-of-the-Year Banquet for the RA staff, and we all got a little bit choked up, but I still haven't fully digested the fact that my tenure as an RA is close to over.
I'm mostly relieved. I made a conscious decision to not return to the staff next year, and I'm happy for it. I'm anticipating the freedom of living off-campus and sharing an abode with just my dear Stephi, rather than 54 freshmen. As much as I loved my group, I'll be happier living in a much quieter space with many more freedoms.
I'll miss it, though, and Tuesday is part of the reason why. Tuesday night was one of those extremely rare nights during which all 23 of us could find a good thing to say about one another (and were jumping out of our seats to do so). No drama, just love and friendship, and THAT I will miss. A gigantic family of overachievers stressed constantly with work and life, and the balance of the two.
What I won't miss is the pain that was oftentimes associated with the struggle that came with adjusting life to fit in the RA persona. I most definitely will not miss being Hanna the RA. In fact, I'm positively thrilled to be just Hanna again (well, never again to 54 of my own residents, and who knows how many more just in general. I hope those who I wasn't personally looking after will forget the title after a while).
Oh, and I won't miss going to a club and running into people who claimed that I had written them up not too long ago. Yeah. That happened Thursday night, and was rather awkward, though the girls (drunk, no doubt) thought it was a very good joke. I ran into one of them again on Friday (though I STILL don't actually recognize them, and I remember people I've documented); I think I'd like to maintain just a bit of anonymity once more.
I'm enjoying the prospect of once again being surrounded by true friends on a regular basis; living with Stephi bodes nothing but good fortune, as we are very much one another's rocks. We've been wanting to try this experiment since high school; it's about time we carry it out.
I'll be looking toward my future next year, sorting out my life, the people in it, and what I want out of it. I'll have so much more ME time, and so much more time to dedicate to smaller numbers of people. I hate that I wasn't able to know my residents personally - detachment comes with the job - so going back to a smaller social circle is a comforting prospect. I'd like to really acquaint myself with a few people as well (name, Al) - we'll see what comes of that.
I'll be in my final year of college - I'm definitely not anticipating any more school for at least a little while. And I'm going to wear a different student involvement hat as a member of SCSC - a distinct difference from ResLife.
I'll miss what I lost, but I've been missing that for quite some time now. And I've already realized that it's completely irretrievable; I mourn what was lost but I see that it was inevitable, really.
Once again, another year of tough lessons learned. A little more heartache and heartbreak - I wonder how many times it can stand breaking apart and then being painstakingly pieced together before it's utterly ruined.
Another layer of skin. Soon it may be completely impenetrable. For the better or the worse.
Only one more to go.
I wanted to really live up senior year of high school (whatever that meant to me back then). I wanted to look back and think, "Damn, I want to go back to high school!" Now, I realize that that is complete idiocy, for who in their right mind would want to return to high school?
This time around, I want to enjoy my last year of school ever (or for a while, at the very least) for myself. I want to be happy, I want more gut-wrenching, face-aching laughter, I want more smiles, I want more sunshine (literally, as well as figuratively). Who knows - a little love could hurt, but could be fun as well.
Most of all, I want it to be memorable, for the right reasons. Sure, growing from the pain of heartbreak and hard lessons will Cultivate My Soul and Teach Me to Become A Better Person - blah, blah, blah. As far as I know, happy memories can be as well-qualified an instructor and much less painful. I'd like some more of those.
But all-in-all, the year's been interesting.
I'm glad it's over, though.

A dry spell?

Wow. I haven't posted in over a month! A lot of shit's gone down since then, but eh. I don't really care to make my dramas public.
Good news, friends who still read this! Stephi and I have leased an apartment together! Huzzah! We shall be living at Archstone together, in a 2-bedroom apartment. The world is grand!

<3

When I think about cheating

"Oh, and I'll vent in my LJ as well, so you'll have advance warning of the Hanna Hurricane. Trust me, it'll blow over - one big storm and it's done and gone. You only have to really worry when the storm starts off as a light rain, and doesn't leave. Then it'll build up, it'll grow, and it'll destroy whatever is nearby. But don't worry - those are few and far between."

I wrote this early in fall quarter, after one of the rare Hurricane Hannas had blown through. Hurricane Hannas come by every now and then, but not often, and they pass through with relatively little harm done.
This right now, though, is no hurricane. It's an even rarer event. The irritation and frustration grows layer by layer, until it's strong enough to be cut down and used as a battering ram against my well-fortified walls. These protective barriers, however, stand no chance against this brute force, the ram wielded by Anger.
Once the walls have fallen, a whirlwind of emotion ensues - I am impassioned, violent, loud - and it leaves me drained. I shout to make myself heard, but in the very few times that this type of storm has occurred, my voice has fallen on deaf ears.
When the emotional cyclone ceases, it leaves me utterly exhausted, but the storm hasn't ended yet. I now methodically pick through the aftermath, salvaging what remains are still useful, and leaving the rest for dead. I close in on myself, I retreat, and I soul-search. Skies are brooding and gray; light rainfall lasts all throughout.
When I finally emerge, I'm resolved.
These storms never occur unprovoked. The only two times they've passed, I've ended up losing friends. Actually, I won't call it "losing" - it's more like putting to rest good, fond memories, and extracting myself from a situation before too many bad memories take their place.
The storm's come and gone. Salvageable is my good cheer, my optimism, and my capacity to love. Broken beyond repair are two very different relationships.
While I will still enjoy the company of these people, I don't think we'll ever be great friends. Without the presence of one, the other and I aren't capable of conversation. In the past few weeks, very rarely have I been with the two of them and NOT felt the part of complete outsider.
I can do so much better than that.
During a chat I had with my supervisor, I came to the realization that these two and I aren't ever going to be close friends. And I've come to terms with that. I'll treasure the good times, and I'll (eventually, but not right now) enjoy being in their presence, but I don't think that we'll have anything beyond a friendly working relationship.
And I've come to terms with that.
---
EDIT: "At this rate." That phrase could be added to the ending or beginning of most of my above sentences. At this rate, I'll no longer want to be their friend. Our friendship is irreparable at this rate. But what I haven't yet given up on is building something better. Is that still possible?
I think so, and I'm willing to try.
At this rate, anyway.
---
"When I think about cheating" by Gretchen Wilson

I give up

I give up. I give up, I give up, I give up.
I cannot try any longer, nor should I have to.
It's no longer worth it. Not the memories, not the could-have-beens. Nothing.
Being a big, dumb fucking pile of emotionless rock is fine. So be it. I cannot move a mountain.
But I cannot forgive it for not trying to move itself.
I don't care if the pain it causes is unintentional. I understand that not all of it was intentional. But I simply cannot continue compromising myself for an emotional fuckup, a pile of not just any rock, but really, really, REALLY stupid rock. The fact that it is stupid does not forgive its behavior.
I. GIVE. UP.

The aftermath

Valentine's Day came and went uneventfully. I was the RA on duty, but not a lot of anything happened, so I guess I should be grateful for a peaceful night.
Three-day weekend's been going well so far - I've been seeing a lot of KLo and Chris, but in conjunction with Sean and Morgan. The way I see it is, I'll get a lot of crap from any of them if I ditch one group for the other, so I killed the birds by forcing them to hang out with one another, and with me in the process. :D It's been a fairly successful experiment.
Last night, we went to dinner at Taste of Thai in Del Mar. Neither of my two separate groups of friends know each other very well, so I was unsure how smoothly dinner would go, but it ended up being really fun. My relationships with the off-campusers and the RAs are very different, so it was in a sense a learning experiment for me. I won't go into it further.
Chris took us all to Mt. Soledad afterwards, and it was as beautiful as people have claimed. The huge cross threw me off, but the view was majestic. The five of us trekked up the mountain in two separate cars, then wandered around the area for a little while, before heading back to KLo's place for a game of Life.
Today, we all journeyed to Zion Market, a Korean market in San Diego; I've decided that I'm going to make dinner tomorrow night for the five of us, plus Stephi. I like even numbers - this will ensure that we all have someone to talk to.I'm really excited about this; my separate groups of friends don't necessarily have a lot in common, but they do have me. ^_^ Should be fun - I haven't cooked in a while, and I like cooking for others. When I'm not forced to, anyway. :]

Change

Right now, I've either got to see some positive changes taking effect, or I've got to throw everything to hell and stop caring.
I sincerely hope it's the former, but if it comes down to the second option, then so be it. One way or another, I cannot have such negative, draining influences in my life and stay sane (relatively speaking). Things are going to change, no matter what.
I'll do whatever I can to try and fix this, but I can only do so much before I'm forced to give up entirely for the sake of my sanity. And I'm going to go nuts a helluva lot faster if I don't see any reciprocated action.
I think we're all trying, but I could be wrong. I'm trying. I'm trying to have conversations, I'm trying to honestly speak my mind. I'm honestly fine with having more uncomfortable discussions about feelings and emotions if it'll lead to a stronger, better foundation. Rome wasn't built in a day, after all.
I won't be neutral, either. I'm not going to play Geneva, here. I have way too much invested in this to remain above and distanced from all of this. I care too much about the people, and I care too much about my own feelings to play mediator, and I don't think that was understood from the beginning. How can I be neutral when this whole thing revolves around my friendships? How is that possible of anyone? I don't want to neglect any relationships, and if that means that I lose my neutrality, then fine. I never wanted that kind of status in the first place. And after all, that was part of how this all started - neglect of attention, neglect of honesty. So why anyone would think that I'm trying to remain the third party here is absolutely incomprehensible. Honestly, how does that appeal to ANYONE'S sense of logic?
Anyway. This situation is affecting everything in my life right now, and none of the effects are positive. It's hindering my performance at my job and as an RA, it's corroding my relationships with all of my different groups of friends. I can't have that in my life.

The old versus the new

I had an... interesting lunch with my friends in the ResLife office today. Not the best time I've ever had with them, but not necessarily the worst. It was eh.
But then, I met my dear friend Ann at the Mandeville coffee cart (the Art of Espresso has THE best coffee on campus, I shit you not), whom I hadn't seen in a good 5 weeks. She complimented me on my hair cut, we exchanged hugs, and she gave me the book for my CSE 3 class. And as I was walking away, she called out, "Hanna, you got skinnier!" She checked me out, pronounced me as "hot," and we both walked away in laughter. :]
I adore those kind of interactions. My old friends and I enjoy complimenting one another shamelessly, because 1) we mean it and 2) it's just that much sweeter because we know we're being perfectly honest. It's an unbelievable boost to the self-esteem, something I lack every now and then. (And besides, who doesn't like being told they're beautiful?)
I needed that, truthfully. A) because it hadn't been the best of days and B) because it reminds me why I should see my old friends more often. I really need to work on that.

Friends of old

"Bras: "Friends are like bras - close to your heart, and there for support." A fantastic quote (and I know I'm cheating again, but whatever. Cut me some slack for being creative). I've made some fantastic friends these past couple of years, but I've lost touch with some as well, and that's a bit disheartening. I guess the ones that have stuck around are the ones that matter, right? Friends have been so important to me, though; they're some of the greatest joys in life. I mean, just last weekend, I was getting ready for a date, and when I came downstairs, Fadiya said to me, "You just took my breath away." XD Friends just make you feel so good about yourself, especially if they're the type of friends who really have no reason to lie to you. I know that Fadiya was being perfectly honest, and it just made me feel great. And friends are like that - they make you feel terrific about yourself, in all the ways that matter, because they're being real. They also keep you in check, which is absolutely necessary."

Heh, that was from last year. Yet another reason why any other type of friendship just falls short in comparison to the amazing friends I already have.

"I adore good conversation, and detest conversations where I'm completely out of the loop. I don't care if it sounds selfish or not; I don't like being part of a situation where everyone around me discusses something I couldn't even pretend to know about. I don't mind conversations where I'm learning something new; in fact, I really enjoy those. I also enjoy good debates, and good nothing conversations - conversations about absolutely nothing, but providing a pleasant way to pass time with another person. But I'm simply uncomfortable with conversations where I'm out of my league.
Is that really so selfish, though? It's not like I don't want people to have these conversations; I just like having someone else around to converse with me since I can't participate in the other ones. Is it wrong to want to have a good chat with someone in which you are both active participants?
Anyway, I'm not aiming this at anyone in particular. So please, don't take offense and don't stop talking. I'll just be in another part of the room, tuning out your conversation; let me know when you've moved on to something I can talk about, but feel free to take your time."

And THIS is why I left the channel. Do you understand, now?

"I can't be perky, cheerful, and Hanna-happy 24/7, 7 days a week, 365 days a year - it isn't possible. I can't be everything to everybody every single time - it isn't sane.

For all the good days I have, there will be a number of days where I am down-right monstrous. Beastly. A bitch in every negative connotation of the word. I don't tend to keep track, but I think the ratio is something like good days:bad days::25:1. Give or take a couple. The point is, though, that my good days outnumber the bad by a landslide.

I make up for it, however, by being a gigantic pain in the ass on my off day, and it is during times like these that I. Need. My. Space. Goddamnit. I will find the people I need to talk to, the people I can vent to, and I will talk, and I will vent. That person may not always be you. That person may never be you. From you, I just need space and a little time. Trust me, I'll be fine. Within a day, I'll be back to my optimistic, sunny self, but for however long it takes, I will need my own personal me-time and I will need you to give me room to breathe, unless I seek you.

Tonight was just one of those nights. Everything RA-related just overwhelmed me during our Tuesday-night training, and frankly, I don't want to go into the details. I've already vented to Christine L (whom I love dearly), and just releasing all of that tension to another RA was all I needed from other people. Now, I just need space to decompress. I'll listen to angry music. I'll daydream. I'll be removed from others. And I'll be fine.

Oh, and I'll vent in my LJ as well, so you'll have advance warning of the Hanna Hurricane. Trust me, it'll blow over - one big storm and it's done and gone. You only have to really worry when the storm starts off as a light rain, and doesn't leave. Then it'll build up, it'll grow, and it'll destroy whatever is nearby. But don't worry - those are few and far between."

And THIS just serves as a reminder to those who think I have one and only one emotion. Do you get it, now?

"I hope I'm not coming off as selfish, but I'm trying damn hard to keep in contact with all of my friends, RA or not. So let me know whether or not this effort is even worth it, 'cause if it isn't to you, then it isn't to me."

Finally, THIS is to all of those who've ever complained that I don't talk to them anymore. For the most part, I'm fucking busy, but haven't you ever thought that I might not talk to you because you don't talk to me? My blog drops off p.n.n, and suddenly, no one reads it anymore (although I still regularly check the feed!). Relationships are give-give; comment on my blog, poke me on facebook, or drop me a line via AIM. I will respond.

The New Year meme, part 2

If you've already read my elephantine post found below, I apologize, for I am going to sum it up now in just a few short(er), and less angry, paragraphs.
2006, as a whole, was an experience. It was an experience in new adventures to be had and lessons to be learned. I've done a few things I'd never done before, gone through some trials I'd never faced before, and so forth.
Let's begin with the less complicated subject at hand. During the summer, I interned at KGTV-10, a newsstation based in San Diego. I learned quite a bit about how a local newsstation gathers its information and prioritizes its daily dosage of news - and I learned why I don't like the trivial, localized approach. This was a highly lucrative endeavour in that I finally got a first-hand look into the workings of my chosen career, and have modified my goals accordingly.
(My hands are so cold and stiff that typing is proving to be a real challenge.)
Now into the gritty stuff - namely, relationships, and how they've proved to be a real bitch and a real source of joy.
My relationship with my family has never failed to be a struggle. We've declined from years past; we've become resigned to a situation that had never had a chance to be truly loving and happy; we've improved in our understanding of one another. It's truly hard at times for me to be a Choe. I've tried explaining it to my friends - one sister is working at three different hospitals, the other is teaching English is Korea. I, as the youngest, have always had these standards to live up to, and I've never failed to come up short. My relationship with my mother has always, for me, been more challenging than any course I've ever been enrolled in, any test I've ever failed, because of my inevitable shortcomings. What I choose to do, what I do to distinguish myself, she cannot understand. She never understood how much work I put into KIWIN'S during high school, and the amazingly postive impact it had on a SHITLOAD of people - all she saw were my poor grades in my math and science classes. She doesn't see the effect I have as an RA - she only notes that I'm attending a good enough school (by her standards) and that my grades are staying up (not realizing how challenging it is to keep them up, what with the other responsibilities I've had). She cannot recognize that I'm trying to make a difference by being an able leader, since this is out of her power to grade and judge. In this aspect, I far outshine my siblings - since neither of them cared for this type of extracurriculars - and it has yet to bear any recognition from my mother.
"And Mom, I know that my being a whiny bitch can get on your nerves, but guess what? You get on my fucking nerves, too. We're human - don't expect me to be your goddamn perfectly perky princess, 'cause that isn't my choice and it never FUCKING was. (Yes, I'm angry right now. No, I don't normally use "fuck" so often. Yes, sometimes, I just need to.)" I wrote this last night, when I was filling out the epic meme below, and I was so angry with her. We can't communicate, my mother and I. Our language barrier is too tough of a divide, and I cannot wholeheartedly pursue the Korean language when there are other things I find more worthwhile of my time. So I won't be able to explain to her that being measured against my sisters, and constantly failing, is not my fault. It was never my choice to be judged by THEIR accomplishments. She does this actively, and out of her own will, and I can't ever win.
Now, I've stopped caring. I've accepted it. And I'll cherish what I do, and be recognized by those who realize my worth, and take true pleasure from that. And from my mother, I'll have undying love and support, and for that I'll be eternally grateful.
I don't fight with my father because we rarely have conversations. Once again, the language barrier. For this, I'm sorry. However, my future does not hold a world where my lacking proficiency in Korean will matter.
My relationships with my various groups of friends have changed greatly. I once placed one group of friends above others for my overall entertainment and amusement. I sought them because there, I felt at ease and myself.
And then the group expanded for their benefit, but not for mine. They found a large circle of friends with a common interest - nay, passion - that I didn't share, and it carried over into everything they did and said. And I was stuck outside.
I left. It was my decision, and I'm happier for it. I do still care for them, though, something I hope they understand.
And in leaving this circle, I returned to a smaller one, one I established in the years preceding #sdcolleges. I made two true, long-lasting friends during my first two years of school, and I neglected them shamefully during Fall quarter. I've poured my heart out to these girls, told them all my sorrows, all my secrets. They never once spoke to me in a language I couldn't understand; if anything, they understood and empathized with me better than any person save one, who I'll get to. Without Fadiya and KLo, I would have failed where I actually triumphed, and to them, I vow to be a better friend.
I like smaller groups of close friends. I adore larger social circles for social gatherings, but when I just need to be me in all of my unedited, uncut, not-rated glory, I only need a few true friends around me. And one who's never failed me, in all my times of stupidity, vapidity, and vanity - the only one who's made any impact on me whatsoever for the long haul - is one Stephi Graf. I've seen vast numbers of people go in and out of my life, and the one presence that will never change is Steph. I'm BLESSED to have that kind of luck in my relationships.
I've found my clique on the RA staff, but our relationship is still forming itself. It's funny - we RAs went through so much together in a very brief period of time, resulting in our unabashedly loving 19 near-strangers after just a month of working together. We had to, in order to be this cohesive of a force, but now that we've had time to come into our positions, we're all slowly making real friendships. Mine have been with 3 other RAs, though I still genuinely adore all of the other 19. What I have with the other 3, though, was at first a friendship of convenience. We're all on campus, we're all separated from our other friends, and we all like boba. :D We became more than co-workers through late-night boba runs, board game marathons, and dining out, and we've shared some great experiences. We're still working out the subtle nuances of our personalities, though. I'm not nearly as open with them as I am with Steph, or Fadiya and KLo (forever a duo in my mind). They don't catch on to the hints that would hit Steph like a load of bricks. They don't sense things in my manner that trigger alarms on the two's sensors.
I think that they're still learning that I DO have moods and emotions other than cheer and happiness. Maybe it's coming as a bit of a shock, but hopefully they'll still love me anyway.
I conquered my heart - I told the man I'd loved for 1.5 years that I cared about him, and got the answer I'd been expecting. I didn't cry, but I was even more desperately unhappy for a period of time. Then, I reflected - I came to a realization that I was still wasting precious time over someone who would never love me quite like I loved him. I faced reality, and I MOVED ON. My heart's forever changed by that experience, but my God - when I threw off that baggage, it was with a hurrah of unexpected depth and true enjoyment.
" Getting over love is better than being in love (in my personal experience. Don’t fucking tell me otherwise, because I don’t care if it’s worked for you – I wouldn’t know. No offense or anything, but that’s just how it is). Loving myself is better than loving another person, and I need to work on that. I need to take some people less seriously, ‘cause they don’t mean to hurt me. Some people need to take me more seriously, because they’re hurting me in spite of their intentions. And finally, good friends are better than anything else in the world, EVEN chocolate." This was my final paragraph in my Meme-to-end-all-memes, and it sums everything up nicely, doesn't it?

Emotional

To you:

I try and try to express this, but as you should know by now, I'm terrible when it comes to dropping hints. Especially around you - they always seem to fall onto deaf ears and blind eyes.
Well. Since I know you aren't blind, there's no missing this hint.
Please stop belittling my emotions. Please stop boxing me into this nice, tidy little label. Labels never fit as properly as they seem to.
You call me "happy" and "cheerful," and you always accompany that with a sigh or a headshake. You're sending me mixed messages - you use these kind, complimentary words with body language that indicates that you mean something quite opposite. What am I supposed to listen to - what you say, or what you imply? And if it's the latter, then explain something to me - why the hell is being me a bad thing? What exactly is wrong with seeing the lighter side of things? And when did it become your business to judge me? What gives you that right?
Did it ever occur to you that my emotions know their polar opposites, and know them well? That I can be as equally sad as I am happy, as equally pissed off as I can be cheerful? No? Well I am.
Did it ever occur to you that I hide these things from you purposefully? You've never seen me angry - you only say that I'm "nicely annoyed." Have you ever wondered why? It's because I don't want to hurt you. When I'm angry, I'm destructive. I aim to hurt the people around me, because when I'm down I want to drag everyone else down with me.
People tend to be unappreciative of that type of behavior, which is why I've got through great pains to hide my negative emotions' existence. But you had better believe that it's there.
I grew up with my father throwing more than just words out of his anger. I grew up with my mother driving away from our home as fast as she could because of her anger. I grew up feeling abandoned and alone, thanks to my parents' anger. And I never ever want to hurt those I love the way I've been hurt before.
So don't reduce me to this one-dimensional :) because there is so much more to me than that, and I'm just afraid that if you ever dig a little deeper, you'll be scared shitless of what you'll find. That you'll give up, that you'll throw in the towel.
I'm scared that if you anger me enough, I'll throw my rage, full of the intent to hurt, and that I'll hit my target - you. And I'm scared that you'll drive off, and never return.
Try and understand that, while packing away my emotions isn't the healthiest of methods, it's the only way I know how to survive. Try and understand that this is my way of showing you that I care. I love you enough that I never want you to see me at what could be my ugliest. I don't want to leave scars on your heart; that's why I've covered up my own.
At the same time, try and understand that I am as equally capable of feeling all the emotions that you feel. I'm just not as vocal about it as others are, and hopefully you can now see why. It's not that they aren't there - they're just hidden. But, if you look a little closer, they might not be as far beneath the surface as it may seem. I force happiness when I'm down. When I'm angry, I isolate myself from you, and the others, to protect you from being hurt.
Look closer, if you want to, but the closer we become, the harder it is for me to let you in. Sounds backwards, but there you are. And don't say that I never warned you.
You might not care enough - you sure as hell never asked for this explanation. But I'm tired of you cheapening my emotions, especially since you've never tried looking deeper. I care enough about you that I'm willing to share this, though I should say this in person and not on some blog that you probably don't even read. But that's just asking to open another can of worms.
Point is, it doesn't matter if you care enough about me, because I care enough about you and your opinion of me, and your slander hurts. So please, try to understand where I'm coming from, and stop.

Love, Me