26 November 2011

The Story of Sean

Forgive me...because this post is about love. I know, gross, huh. It's all mushy and personal, and I promise this is the first and last time this sort of post will happen. I just want to share this, because I'm really happy about it. So, deal with it. :D

THE (very condensed) STORY OF SEAN

This is Sean.

I met Sean when I was 13. Yes. The first time Sean saw me, I was wearing skater shoes, flare jeans, and had my hair parted down the middle. I was probably listening to Linkin Park.

We met outside the band room at our middle school.  My best friend Sarah had a huge crush on Sean, and he liked her, too. I had a huge crush on Sean's brother, Calvin, so Sean and I really had no choice but to become really great friends.

When we went to high school, we had band together again. I mean, a lot of band. Marching band, Wind Symphony, Jazz band. The trombones sat behind the saxophones in Jazz band, and I'd always get in trouble for turning around and talking to him. My teacher can vouch for that.

We not only bonded over music, but also art. Whenever we'd hang out, we would just end up drawing in each other's sketchbooks.

When Sean got his first girlfriend, I remember feeling irrationally annoyed with every little thing she did. I was very protective of Sean, especially when it came to who he dated. In retrospect, I think it might have been fueled by subconscious jealousy.

Sean was protective of me, too.

I recall once when I was having some sort of problem that related to a boy, I called Sean at 2 AM. He let me cry on the phone, and said nice things to make me laugh.

until 6 am when we had to get ready for school, only to see each other an hour later in band. It was always so worth it though, to have those talks. To the dislike of our parents, this same thing happened countless times.

Sometimes I'd have romantic feelings for Sean. I always tried to talk myself out of having those feelings, and it usually worked, mostly because my best friend still had a massive crush on him. I think everybody in our little friend group traded off having a crush on Sean. Besides, I still liked his brother more, you know?

Apparently Sean was more fond of me than I realized.

Here's an excerpt from what he wrote in my senior yearbook, when we were 18:

"Hannah, it's been fantastic. I'll never forget our late-night conversations and awkward situations. You've helped me more than you know. Whenever you're feeling down, just come back here and read your yearbook. Right here to this page and read this part, where I say: 'Hannah, you're amazing, and beautiful, and I care about you and I always will." That pretty much covers it. 


P.S. Call Calvin."

When we graduated from high school, Sean and I attended the same University. Our sophomore year, he we to Washington for 2 years. We both grew up a lot, and when I came home from study abroad, he had also come home from Washington.

We pretty much picked up from where we left off.

After trying, unsuccessfully, to set him up with all of my friends, we ended up just hanging out together all the time. I started realizing that the barrier that Sarah and Calvin had created from the time we were 13 on was no longer there. We weren't limited to being just friends.

One night we went back to my house so I could show him a TV show that I thought he'd like. Partway into the first season, he put his arm around me.

That was two years ago.

I show him my art, and he critiques it. He shows me his, and I do the same. We play a game where we point out fonts and try to guess what they are. Usually he wins, because he has every font memorized. We critique wedding announcements together.


We play Pokemon Fire Red together. We teach each other songs on the guitar. Then we play a LOT of guitar together. We're immature together. We make each other laugh. Like, really laugh.

We also frustrate each other so much sometimes, and we argue over really stupid things. We're both stubborn and difficult and pains in the neck. But we both know that the other is worth the trouble.

In the 10 years I've known Sean, he's shown me every kind of love I've needed. I'm a better person because I know him. Just by being himself, he inspires me to be honest and good, and to try my best at everything I do. He's taught me patience and understanding. His sensitivity has softened my heart, and torn down walls and defenses that I've carefully built up. He loves me when I'm selfish, and when I'm forgetful. He loves me when I'm chaotic, and when I'm peaceful.

He's the best!

He proposed this month. Soooo...I'm totally marrying Sean this coming May. Which means we'll get about 7 months together before the world ends. Then again, he is part Mayan, so maybe we'll be spared? Either way, we're naming our first kid 2012.

11 November 2011

Team Anything-But-Edward

My university has produced some pretty cool people, I guess. Aaron Eckhart, Jeopardy-Ninja Ken Jennings, the guy who created the first Land Before Time, and the entire cast and crew of Napoleon Dynamite. I mean, decent people, right? Kind of?

But I think our most generous cursed contribution we have released on society was none other than the Queen of Teenaged Vampire fiction herself...Stephenie Meyer.  (Doesn't say much for our English department, eh?)

I came across Twilight while searching hungrily for another book to fill the void that the Harry Potter books had left in my heart.

So I read it, and it was an incredibly confusing experience.  I couldn't figure out how I could hate a book so much but still continue to read it into all hours of the night. It's like literary cocaine...like, the kind that I fished out of a dead hobo's mouth.

I obviously wasn't ready to move on after Harry Potter, and I felt that I had done him an injustice by reading the first book that came along.

First, I'd like to point out that Edward is manipulative and weird. Mysterious men that are full of inner turmoil may seem attractive, but once they start to crawl into your window in the nighttimes to smell and watch you, the mystery suddenly becomes a lot less charming.

Unless, of course, you're Bella Swan.

If I woke up to a pale, blood sucking monsterman watching me sleep I probably wouldn't be flattered, and I definitely wouldn't start dating him.

Saying that, I should also say that Bella isn't much better. She passes out, cries, thinks self-degrading thoughts, cries, makes food for her dad, cries, whines about everything, falls in love with monsters, and cries. Not a well balanced life.

Not a good couple! Especially because Edward's entire attraction to Bella is based on his carnal desire to break her frail human body and drink her blood! Also, all of his "brothers" and "sisters" are dating each other! Ugh! I just got weird chills all over my body just now!

Anyway, aside from all of that, there were a few things that I just couldn't stop thinking about.

1. Why doesn't Edward try to devour and murder Bella when it's her time of the month?

It just doesn't make any sense. Maybe she...doesn't have a uterus? But she has to have a uterus to have given birth to their child! And by "given birth" I mean to have been violently ripped open by their demon spawn!

Okay, so assuming she has a uterus, I'd also like to know...

2. How did she even get pregnant if Eddie's heart doesn't pump blood to the rest of his...extremities?

Isn't that an important aspect to the whole baby-making process? Or maybe demon vampire spawn are created a little differently? I mean, there was the whole thing about how it only took their creepy little baby a month in the womb...

So, somehow Bella gets pregnant. Which leads us to the next question...

3. Who names their kid Renesmee?! 

It sounds like a dirty stripper name!

If my parents had created my name by combining their mothers' names, my name would be Dianolyn. Which sounds like a commonly abused prescription medicine. Renesmee probably buys Dianolyn in scary alleyways! I think I'm going to write the epilogue to the series. It'll just be Renesmee's life as a bloodsucking, drug-abusing stripper.

I think I'm sticking to Team Harry.

Just sayin'...

04 November 2011

On My Own

Over the summer I had the flat to myself for about 5 days. My flatmates were gone (one living out of the back of a van somewhere in England, the other spending the week in Scotland) and I was left to my own devices.

The first few days were nice and relaxing, since I think I needed some quality alone time. I spent the time walking around town, drawing, and going to the cinema alone. Once the fourth day came around, though, I began to struggle. Having no wifi, phone service, books I that I hadn't read, and having reached the point where if I drew one more Hipster I would kill myself, I decided the best use of my time was to knit a scarf.

I walked to the shop down the street and bought two thingies of yarn. But somehow I had forgotten how to start a scarf in the past few days, and the yarn turned into a giant knot. Seriously. I don't know how. I started pulling it out, and before I knew it, the yarn had gotten all tangled and tied up. 

For the next two hours I tried untangling the yarn. But I hardly made a dent. 

So I gave up after remembering that I had bought two thingies of yarn. I got the other one and made sure to carefully roll it into a ball. After a few tries, I finally remembered how to start the scarf.

About an hour into the scarf, I had a reality check. I realized I was sitting on my bed alone...

...on a friday night...


...listening to SHOW TUNES.

I was a few doilies away from being a crazy cat lady.

Disturbed after catching a glimpse of my possible future, I quickly shut off the music, set my knitting aside, and left to get some dinner at the Fish and Chips shop down the street.

Extra-vinegary chips in hand, I headed back home about 15 minutes later. It was getting darker, and I got a little nervous, mostly because I had no phone and if I had disappeared nobody would have noticed for like...a week.

As I walked quickly home, the already-shady underbelly of Cardiff proved itself to be downright terrifying.

Against all logic, I ran the rest of the way home, knowing that the scary graffiti was probably just all talk, but still not wanting to end up like Owen.

Back inside, I quickly locked and secured every possible entry way, including drawing the curtains in every room.

But because I had also attached my clothesline to the curtain-rod, the extreme weight of wet clothes combined with the force with which I pulled the curtains, caused the curtain rod to come clean off the wall and onto my head.

Covered in drywall and paint chips, I climbed in bed with the intention of sleeping my memories away. 
But because there were no longer any curtains on my window, I was rudely awakened by an unusual phenomenon that I had not experienced in years.


I manically searched the room for something to cover the window with, but I couldn't find anything big enough. A second later, I spotted a scarf I had bought laying on the ground. It was the perfect sun-shield.

Feeling much better, I went back to sleep....

...only to wake up in confusion around 2 PM, my hair sweated to my face where the scarf had been.

Later that day, my flatmate Mariah got home from Scotland. Boy, was I happy to see her.