Sunday, September 29, 2013

Fishing for compliments, or Hannah's a huge bitch.

DISCLAIMERS (On the off hand that anyone actually starts reading this and gets offended, I got my ass covered).

1. If I sound like a huge bitch in this, its because I'm in a terrible mood. Plus if you fall into this category of what I'm describing, this is some shit that you need to hear.

2. I understand that sometimes insecurities can take on a life of their own and turn into something really, really bad. Eating disorders and self harm are no joke and are not to be taken lightly. If you or someone you know is suffering from anything like this, please go get help. There are a lot of people in the world who think you are wonderful. That being said........


Don't get me wrong, everyone on the planet has insecurities, myself included. To name a few: I could certainly stand to lose a couple lbs, I think I'm a really awkward height, my legs are two different sizes because of my knee injury, and don't even get me started on how self-conscious I am about my last name (after 23 years, you'd think I'd be used to it. I'm not). But I would really appreciate it if everyone could just keep their insecurities to themselves.

Like I said above, I know that insecurities can turn into something bad. When I say that I'm annoyed with insecure people, I'm not talking about the ones who hate themselves so much that they hurt their bodies. I'm talking about the really pretty girls who know they're pretty and yet are constantly fishing for compliments.

We all know these girls on Facebook and Instagram. They're the ones who clearly put a lot of effort into their appearance, then post a bunch of pictures of themselves (selfies, if you will) with captions like "Omg I look so terrible!! #nomakeup #ratchet #sogross". Then they get blown up with comments telling them how pretty they are. While these girls are annoying as sin, its the ones who do it in real life that annoy the absolute fuck out of me. For example:

 The girls who have great bodies, put on a dress or something and they say "oh my god I hate wearing this, it makes me look fat." IF YOU THINK THAT SOMETHING MAKES YOU LOOK FAT, THEN DON'T FUCKING WEAR IT. Simple as that. If you have put effort into your appearance, don't devalue yourself by making it sound like you look like shit all the time. You're just making yourself feel bad, and for what? The 3 second high you get when someone tells you you're pretty? THAT IS SOMETHING THAT YOU ALREADY KNOW, YOU JUST NEED TO HEAR SOMEONE ELSE SAY IT. If you have taken the time to make yourself look good, take pride in it! Confidence is sexy, you'll feel better about yourself, and I won't have to hear you bitch about how terrible you don't actually look.

Because honestly, I'm getting so sick of it that I'm going to star agreeing with people. The next time someone bitches to me about how they look fat or ugly, they will get zero compliments from me. I am 100% tapped out. If I think you look nice I will tell you, because I love giving compliments to people, but not if you're fishing for them. Even if I think you look pretty, if you tell me you look like shit I'm going to be like "yup".


Cool as le cucumber

Oh hello there! Here are some cool things that have happened in my life:


I GOT CLEARED TO RUN AND SWIM!!!!! Frank kicks so much ass. Now granted its just freestyle kicking and jogging in a straight line, but its something. Less cool, my physical therapist had me run down and back in the parking lot (40 ft? I don't know, I'm pretty bad at judging distance) and it was rough business. Turns out I'm in really bad shape and pretty bad at running. I don't know what I expected, I mean I've only been running a handful of times since I broke my foot, which happened when I was 17. I'm 23 now, so that's a lot of time spent not running. Whatever, the important thing is that my knee is making some serious progress. I also keep forgetting that I'm actually allowed to kick my legs and whenever I go into the ocean I spend the first couple minutes only using my arms before I remember that I can kick again.

I'M OFFICIALLY DONE WITH PHYSICAL THERAPY!!!!! Speaking of physical therapy, I just realized that in a blog that's supposed to chronicle my recovery from knee surgery I never actually talked about what I did at physical therapy. Whoops. When I first started, it was all about getting my motion back and the swelling down. It was a lot of stretching and a lot of massaging (glorious). Then as my knee grew stronger, other exercises were slowly added until it became a full fledged workout. By the end of the four months I was doing lunges, squats, leg press (160 lbs. with both legs, 80 lbs. single leg), wall sits and balancing exercises. I'm also a lot more confident on stairs, which is pretty nice. I still have a long way to go strength wise, but I just keep telling myself that someday my quads will be the same size and that people really can't tell the difference right now unless they really focus on it.


MY FRIEND NIC CAME TO VISIT!!!!! It was wonderful. We didn't do anything exciting (standard vacation stuff. Drink too much, get too much sun, the usual), but it was so nice having a familiar face around. Nic and I were neighbors in one of the most ridiculous neighborhoods in the world (fondly known as "La Plaza Vieja") and had a couple of classes together. Through Model United Nations, we became pretty good friends. Its awesome to think about how our random "Fat Kid Saturday" hangouts turned into him visiting me in Hawaii. I was sad to see him go.

Last night Clint Eastwood's ex wife came into my work with the University of Hawaii's basketball coach. Turns out they're dating, and Mr. Eastwood is dating the coach's ex wife. So that's bizarre. And tonight the current Miss Hawaii, USA came into the restaurant, along with the gaggle of pageant girls who are vying for the crown this year. Let me tell you, nothing hits the ego quite as hard as greeting a group of beyond gorgeous women when you are sunburnt to within an inch of your life. Always remember to wear your sunscreen, kids. Otherwise you get skin cancer and a bruised ego.

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

The Pink Power Ranger

Fact: I am sooooo terrible at being a grown up.

First of all, I live 100% in the moment. I never think about the future. Ever. I didn't even start thinking about where I wanted to go to college until the second semester of my senior year, and then I made the decision by flipping a coin. Same with life after graduating. I had no plans until Easter when I decided on a whim to move to Hawaii with a friend. I also have this weird thing where I'm really bad about remembering to buy things to eat for breakfast. I'll go to the grocery store and come back with $100 worth of things to eat for lunch and dinner, then wake up the next morning and have to go to the coffee shop down the street because I forgot to buy bagels or something.

Speaking of which, I am terrible with money. Back home, I didn't think I was that bad with money. I was never particularly worried. Turned out I was just deluding myself because I rarely had to pay for food. No joke, my grandma's contribution to my education was getting me a meal plan every semester (even when I lived off campus) and if I ran out of swipes or was too lazy to go grocery shopping, I would go to my mom or aunt's house and get something to eat. When I moved to Hawaii, I remembered that I didn't know how to cook, so I spend too much money on take-out. I'm getting a little better, but holy crap. I suck at budgeting. And I am having a hell of a time beating down my Starbucks addiction. Seriously, is there a 12-step program for that business? Money is dumb. I don't understand how people do it.

Careers. Dear Lord, don't even get me started on careers. Growing up, I wanted to be everything on the planet. Astronaut, princess, doctor, writer, actress, musician, ballerina, professional athlete, you name it, I wanted to do it. On paper, it looks like I have aspirations and goals. I have a degrees in both Political Science and International affairs. Obviously with degrees like that, I have plans, right? Nope. Not even a little bit. I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up. I've thought of so many possibilities, but nothing has really jumped out at me. Foreign Service Officer with the State Department? Meh. Work for the United Nations? Nah, they don't accomplish much. Go to law school and become a lawyer? Maybe. Go to grad school? Probably should. Want to know what the last thing that I knew without one tiny sliver of a doubt that I wanted to be? The Pink Power Ranger. I was five and she was the coolest chick I had ever seen. Plus she got to be with the White Ranger, and he was a hottie. What was his name, Zach? Tommy? Whatever, its not important.

And you know what? Given the opportunity, I would become the Pink Power Ranger without a second's hesitation, and at 23 years old, that's a little scary.