it's night like these that make me remember that there is so much good in the world to be seen from two inches in front of your nose.
the lovely mr. steven blackwelder drove all the way down from lancaster after he got off work, to hang out with me when i got off of work. we had mochas and iced teas, lots of cigarettes, a fountain and so many stories. just being able to sit and talk with someone for hours on end and laugh and learn so much has always been one of the greatest experiences ever.
so throughout all the crap that happened this weekend, and all the hopes that were stepped on, and the expectations that were so easily slaughtered, i found that there are things to be thankful for after all. and people, oh gosh people.
i'm thankful for people like steven blackwelder, amber manfredi, james pequignot, timmy chisham, lyndsay carpenter, and jason bornstein who remind me every day why i have so much faith that they will always be there.
i'm thankful for bands like colton saylor and the she sells sea shells, and sleep cyclops, sleep for constantly teaching me about everything; music, life, faith, and friendship.
i'm thankful for people like katie and sean for slamming a door shut in my face, only to open up the biggest and most rewarding one yet.
i'm thankful for my mom, for always being rock solid, and basically for pushing me out so that i had the extreme fortune of being able to meet all these people.
happy thanksgiving, everyone.
perceptionzorz.
For the longest time I've kind of thoroughly believed that I have no discernible personality traits. I used to always think that the way to get someone to notice me was through the only memorable attribute I have; my voice. I've always thought that no one knows the true me until they hear me sing. When I liked someone, I used to do everything in my power to find some way, some how for them to hear me sing (even went to very extreme lengths) because I thought that only then they'd actually remember me; that I wouldn't just be "that goth chick" or later on "that scene chick" or even now "that fat chick".
I still feel the same today.
Recently, I found out that someone (who I am not friends with anymore, for different reasons) who I had called my best friend for five years, who knew everything about me and supposedly[hopefully] saw all the good in me, referred to me (to be able to explain to someone else who I was, within reference to the 30-million Hannah's there are in our given scene) as "big Hannah".
Now trust me, I know what I look like. I'm almost twenty years-old. I've long surpassed being upset about someone taking a stab at the way I look. The end-all-be-all is that I really like the way I am, and the way I look; though not conventional, it's good enough for me. No, being called "big" is not what upset me. It's the idea that out of all the things that I think I offer and bring to the table, I'm still only known for one thing; the way I look.
How many Hannahs' do you know that play ukulele?
Or sing in a solo project called "She's In The Band"?
Or sing, semi-professionally, at all?
Or maybe ones that drive all over everywhere at the drop of a hat, just for an adventure?
I'm not saying these make me some god, some special being to be regarded highly over everyone else; but come on, can't we just drop my weight?
It sucks to find out that I am exactly the same as I was in gradeschool. How I try so hard to impress one person by using the only creative medium that I have any grasp on. Since I'm far beyond the person to continue saying, "I like you." or be forward and say, "Stop leading me on", I figure if I sing it, or strum it, or fuck, blog it enough, this person will drop everything and get their act together. He won't, I know it. I went through this delirium for almost three years and I think at this point my mind is refusing to let me deal with it again.
I miss the ability to like someone. I didn't let myself for a long time, and now that I finally though I kind of got back into that incredibly liberating [yet horribly crippling] feeling that would-be puppy love, I still am ending up screwed. And I have to pick myself up, and for friendship's sake, pretend I never even felt that way.
And I will. And no one will know a thing.
Because I'm really good at it, after so many years.
But I know I like you. And at least I know that at one point, you liked me.
Unfortunately, nothing I could ever sing could change the outcome.
But I'll probably still try.
-"Big" Hannah.
I still feel the same today.
Recently, I found out that someone (who I am not friends with anymore, for different reasons) who I had called my best friend for five years, who knew everything about me and supposedly[hopefully] saw all the good in me, referred to me (to be able to explain to someone else who I was, within reference to the 30-million Hannah's there are in our given scene) as "big Hannah".
Now trust me, I know what I look like. I'm almost twenty years-old. I've long surpassed being upset about someone taking a stab at the way I look. The end-all-be-all is that I really like the way I am, and the way I look; though not conventional, it's good enough for me. No, being called "big" is not what upset me. It's the idea that out of all the things that I think I offer and bring to the table, I'm still only known for one thing; the way I look.
How many Hannahs' do you know that play ukulele?
Or sing in a solo project called "She's In The Band"?
Or sing, semi-professionally, at all?
Or maybe ones that drive all over everywhere at the drop of a hat, just for an adventure?
I'm not saying these make me some god, some special being to be regarded highly over everyone else; but come on, can't we just drop my weight?
It sucks to find out that I am exactly the same as I was in gradeschool. How I try so hard to impress one person by using the only creative medium that I have any grasp on. Since I'm far beyond the person to continue saying, "I like you." or be forward and say, "Stop leading me on", I figure if I sing it, or strum it, or fuck, blog it enough, this person will drop everything and get their act together. He won't, I know it. I went through this delirium for almost three years and I think at this point my mind is refusing to let me deal with it again.
I miss the ability to like someone. I didn't let myself for a long time, and now that I finally though I kind of got back into that incredibly liberating [yet horribly crippling] feeling that would-be puppy love, I still am ending up screwed. And I have to pick myself up, and for friendship's sake, pretend I never even felt that way.
And I will. And no one will know a thing.
Because I'm really good at it, after so many years.
But I know I like you. And at least I know that at one point, you liked me.
Unfortunately, nothing I could ever sing could change the outcome.
But I'll probably still try.
-"Big" Hannah.
Will I ever falter?
Things have been fantastic. Who am I to kid myself in thinking that they haven't been? It's been a long time since I've posted about Giant, and even more wonderfully, I haven't had to. The fact is, it took me three long years to stop fussing over how "he was wrong" and that "I am the one", to only come to the conclusion that I am completely fucking insane. I'm happy to admit that everything he ever told anyone about me, all of the frustration I caused him was completely deserving of the result I got. But I don't want a second chance, I just want to go on living my life. So I've checked out of life rehab, and started anew.
After a short (oh, and I do mean short) battle among people who were once friends (a "social cleansing", if you will [minus all the murder]), I managed to get myself exposed to some of the greatest people I've ever met.
I'm in a band. More so than that, I'm in an amazing band. These four guys will ONLY be able to help me grow as a musician. I have so much fun working with them that it almost completely overshadows my terror of working with them. I don't want to disappoint anyone. They are so incredibly influential to me, and I feel as if one false move on my part would hurt my chances of an incredible experience. Hopefully I hold my weight. My first gig with them is this weekend in Alameda, CA. We leave for tour on December 27th. How weird to thing that the second I stop pursuing music as an academic major, doors I didn't know even existed started opening.
I got in touch with an old friend, who is now a best friend. Through him been able to get to know another group of new friends, who I think will be great friends. I'm learning so much about being a person, being a friend that I never let myself be exposed to while I was concerned with only Giant's life. I hope they'll grow to respect and love me as much as I'm loving them. It's about time I gained more friends who make me laugh; instead of ones I only end up debating with.
Things are better than they have been in years. I feel like I'm genuinely moving forwards and taking steps toward a positive light...
But I can't stop worrying. What if my mom hits another financial snag? What if I fail out of school? What if James and Amber move back to Ohio? The 'worsts' all stack up in my head until they explode into one weekend of chaos and emotion. I want to have the money to help my mom. I want to stop being lazy and keep up with my homework. I don't want my twin pillars leaving me; I don't want to imagine what it'd be like if we weren't friends anymore. I don't want to worry about the only guy in years I've thought would really work out, only to find out it was only a lead. I just want to be French about it and let it roll off my shoulders.
Steven says, 'it'll all work out'. But after 20 years, aren't I at least granted ONE CHANCE? Not once have I been able to say what everyone else my age (and younger [and thirty-four]) get to say; get to feel what they get to feel. And hey, I really wanted it to work this time. I'm not even sure why, sometimes. I treated him like shit for two years, and he never lost any charm, or 'gave up on me'. So am I paying for that now? Are these my consequences? Now that I'm finally in a place for the first time in my life where I am ready for this he is conveniently at it's inverse?
And I know it won't happen again. I don't even know why I write about it. He won't ever see it, his friends won't show it to him, and if they did it would be ridiculous because it wouldn't change anything. I just know I won't get another shot. I have always taken pride in being 'one of the boys' and I don't see anything in me that wants to change to fit the contrary. I like who I am, a lot. I wish he was in the right place. But here I am, getting to worry about the horrible things he might be getting into, or how he's probably lying to me because he's found a better prospect. Who am I to say who he has to be with? That's not me, I know it, everyone knows it, so I should just shrug it off and move on.
In the end, it's like I'm living my life for the first time. Three years took ten off of me and it feels as if I don't understand how to be social. I'm awkward, and shy, and nervous all the time. I shook delivering a 3 minute presentation on a subject I knew like the back of my hand today. I haven't gotten nervous publicly speaking in years. I might be broken. But it time for me to take the first, brand new steps. It's time for me to start from scratch and make myself into the person that I want to be, and not what I wanted to be to someone else.
It's going to be an interesting year...
After a short (oh, and I do mean short) battle among people who were once friends (a "social cleansing", if you will [minus all the murder]), I managed to get myself exposed to some of the greatest people I've ever met.
I'm in a band. More so than that, I'm in an amazing band. These four guys will ONLY be able to help me grow as a musician. I have so much fun working with them that it almost completely overshadows my terror of working with them. I don't want to disappoint anyone. They are so incredibly influential to me, and I feel as if one false move on my part would hurt my chances of an incredible experience. Hopefully I hold my weight. My first gig with them is this weekend in Alameda, CA. We leave for tour on December 27th. How weird to thing that the second I stop pursuing music as an academic major, doors I didn't know even existed started opening.
I got in touch with an old friend, who is now a best friend. Through him been able to get to know another group of new friends, who I think will be great friends. I'm learning so much about being a person, being a friend that I never let myself be exposed to while I was concerned with only Giant's life. I hope they'll grow to respect and love me as much as I'm loving them. It's about time I gained more friends who make me laugh; instead of ones I only end up debating with.
Things are better than they have been in years. I feel like I'm genuinely moving forwards and taking steps toward a positive light...
But I can't stop worrying. What if my mom hits another financial snag? What if I fail out of school? What if James and Amber move back to Ohio? The 'worsts' all stack up in my head until they explode into one weekend of chaos and emotion. I want to have the money to help my mom. I want to stop being lazy and keep up with my homework. I don't want my twin pillars leaving me; I don't want to imagine what it'd be like if we weren't friends anymore. I don't want to worry about the only guy in years I've thought would really work out, only to find out it was only a lead. I just want to be French about it and let it roll off my shoulders.
Steven says, 'it'll all work out'. But after 20 years, aren't I at least granted ONE CHANCE? Not once have I been able to say what everyone else my age (and younger [and thirty-four]) get to say; get to feel what they get to feel. And hey, I really wanted it to work this time. I'm not even sure why, sometimes. I treated him like shit for two years, and he never lost any charm, or 'gave up on me'. So am I paying for that now? Are these my consequences? Now that I'm finally in a place for the first time in my life where I am ready for this he is conveniently at it's inverse?
And I know it won't happen again. I don't even know why I write about it. He won't ever see it, his friends won't show it to him, and if they did it would be ridiculous because it wouldn't change anything. I just know I won't get another shot. I have always taken pride in being 'one of the boys' and I don't see anything in me that wants to change to fit the contrary. I like who I am, a lot. I wish he was in the right place. But here I am, getting to worry about the horrible things he might be getting into, or how he's probably lying to me because he's found a better prospect. Who am I to say who he has to be with? That's not me, I know it, everyone knows it, so I should just shrug it off and move on.
In the end, it's like I'm living my life for the first time. Three years took ten off of me and it feels as if I don't understand how to be social. I'm awkward, and shy, and nervous all the time. I shook delivering a 3 minute presentation on a subject I knew like the back of my hand today. I haven't gotten nervous publicly speaking in years. I might be broken. But it time for me to take the first, brand new steps. It's time for me to start from scratch and make myself into the person that I want to be, and not what I wanted to be to someone else.
It's going to be an interesting year...
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