Hot guys! And... depth. (Not really.)

Good evening, readers, and welcome to the final installment of Blog Ever Day in April: 2010. We've had a good ride this month! Together, we watched my sister ram into Sebastian's car, ate a lot of salsa, had a question and answer session, discussed depression, and looked at a video of My Little Ponies singing showtunes. It was fun, it was sometimes stressful, and it was real, yo. I'm definitely planning on participating in Blog Every Day in August, as well, and I promise to update more often every month in between. It's been a pleasure talking to you each evening, then hearing from you the following morning. You guys are truly an awesome bunch.

On a totally unrelated note, I started a bit of an uproar on twitter this afternoon by posting my list of "hottest funny celebrities." Fearing I was annoying the heck out of those who follow me on their phones, I put the debate to an end by saying, "I'll address this on my blog tonight." So, um. Below, I've listed my top thirty attractive famous men. (My female list is short: Tina Fey, Scarlett Johansson, Maggie Gyllenhaal, and Natalie Tran.) Who are your top ten?

1. Paul McCartney
   
2. Owen Wilson
3. Jemaine Clement
4. Liam Neeson
   
5. Will Ferrell
6. Johnny Depp
   
7. Alec Baldwin
8. George Clooney
9. Jimmy Fallon
10. Demetri Martin
11. BJ Novak
12. Joel McHale
13. Jake Gyllenhaal
14. Jude Law
15. Joshua Jackson
16. John Green
    
17. Ben Stiller
18. Milo Ventimiglia
    
19. Zach Braff
20. Andy Samberg
21. Bo Burnham
22. Ewan McGregor
23. Will Smith
24. Teenage Patrick Dempsey
    
25. Zac Efron
26. Paul Rudd
27. John C. Reilly
28. Nick Jonas
29. Vince Vaughn
30. Richard Gere
    

I'm honestly looking forward to your responses. These things fascinate me, for some reason. For example, I didn't realize until today that I'm, apparently, very attracted to distinctive noses. And, uh... people who vaguely resemble my boyfriend. What can I say?

On that note, I've got to head out for the night. It's Mom's Weekend at school, and my mother is currently sitting at my desk, talking with my sister. I think I'm boring them to death. That's how much I love you, blog readers! I'll probably update tomorrow, but regardless of when I see you again, remember: don't forget to be awesome, be good to yourself, and keep kicking ass.

Chipotle burritos this year: 16
Subscribers: 27,689
Nail color: "Lightening," Sally Hansen Insta-Dri

Weeeeird mood, yo.

Before we begin, I have a legitimate question. When you're a nineteen-year-old college student, are you too old to look longingly at the Build-A-Bear website? I don't remember what took me there in the first place, but then I found this coyote, and I can't... look... away. It's weird, too, because I generally consider myself immune to cuteness. Kittens and puppies don't affect me much. I only ever cared about a handful of toys when I was little. But this coyote; oh my goodness! It's a COYOTE!

Yeah. I apologize. When you sign on for thirty consecutive days of Hayley, you're bound to be exposed to my annoying side. I promise to never talk about stuffed animals again. From here on out, I'll only talk about mature topics, like current events and foreign affairs and the stock market and porn.

Anyway, hello! How was your day? Mine was rather uneventful, unfortunately. I went to my first class wearing the clothes I'd slept in. I ate some veggie soup so awesome that I barely mind the fact that my mouth is still burnt. I sat out in the sun and accomplished a whole slew of menial tasks. Oh, and some of my friends gathered around to watch one of my all-time favorite movies: a made-for-Lifetime "masterpiece" about fourteen-year-olds with Syphilis, called She's Too Young. The movie, which includes such memorable quotes as, "I HAVE SYPHILIS, OKAY, MOM!?" sets many a dramatic scene inside ridiculously exaggerated high school parties. "Look!" I said to my friends. "Naked people! Stereos! Booooze!"

"And joints! And coke!" shouted Erin. "And a lava lamp!"

Other than that, today pretty much served to further confirmed that I am lame. I need a little adventure in my life. I don't have class tomorrow, so I plan to get a little wild. Maybe I'll sleep till ten. Maybe I'll take a thirty-minute shower. Maybe-- now, prepare yourselves for this one-- MAYBE I will wear MASCARA. Who knows? I've been known to really spice it up from time to time.

Mkay. I'm sorry for my unfunny hyperactivity. Hopefully, I'll be a somewhat normal person tomorrow, for the final installment of BEDA: 2010. Check out today's fiveawesomegirls video, if you want, and I'll see you lovely people tomorrow!

Chipotle burritos this year: 16
Subscribers: 27,653
Nail color: "Lightening," Sally Hansen Insta-Dri

*Although it would have been 17 today, if I'd had more money and less willpower.

I drew you a picture.

The above drawing is precisely the reason why I'm a writer, and not a... crayon... master. But my writing class was canceled for the day (Professor McSexybrit was sick), and there was a fresh box of crayons on my recently organized desk, so I thought I'd draw you guys a present. It's, uh, my blog. On my laptop. Because I love you. See you tomorrow, guys!

Chipotle burritos this year: 16
Subscribers: 27,613
Nail color: "Lightening," Sally Hansen Insta-Dri

Bottle explosions of emotional dooooom.

If we're being honest, not much time has passed since Sunday's post when I haven't been thinking about you guys. Your responses were all so real, and heartfelt, and daring... and even now, I keep catching myself on the verge of tears. You beautiful people. I wish I could take all your pain and shove it in a plastic bottle and maliciously hold it over a candle to watch it contort and blacken. Then I'd scrape the melty goo over some bricks or something, until all that's left of your misery is a bottle cap and some little pellets of the burnt Aquafina label.

I sound like a psycho. But I don't appear to be nearly-crying anymore, so at least that little tirade worked.

I'm just flat-out honored that so many of you shared such personal stories with me, and I'm sincerely touched to see a lot of you responding to each other. The reason I dwell so much on this blog is because I definitely feel like it's not just about me anymore; there's a bona fide community of people with common interests forming below my daily musings. That's incredible. I almost can't wrap my mind around how truly grateful I am to be in contact with such awesome people. By commenting, emailing, tweeting, messaging-- even just by reading, without speaking up-- you have a huge impact on my life. Thank you for reading this. Thank you for caring about me and about each other.

Wow. Okay, now that my One Tree Hill reenactment is over, I think I'm going to get to bed early. Too many dramatic teary-eyed speeches can really take their toll on a girl. For tomorrow, do me a favor and complete the following tasks, for your homework: 1) don't forget to be awesome, 2) be good to yourself, and 3) continue kicking ass.

Chipotle burritos this year: 16
Subscriber: 27,583
Nail color: "Lightening," Sally Hansen Insta-Dri

Video blog! Ha.

As I am still utterly overwhelmed by the touching and powerful response I received to yesterday's post, tonight's blog comes to you in the form of a terrible video. It was filmed by The Situation, over Skype video chat. I apologize in advance, and will be back tomorrow.



Chipotle burritos this year: 16
Subscriber: 27,532
Nail color: "Lightening," Sally Hansen Insta-Dri

Depression, etc.

It's both sweet and slightly unsettling how much you guys know about me. A lot of you have been reading my innermost thoughts from my first big heartbreak to my senior prom to my first week of college. You've been following me through angst and drama and happiness and bad jokes. It's easier to divulge feelings to an anonymous audience than it is to talk face-to-face, so I've confided more in you, Wide-scale Internet, than I have to even some of my good friends. Strangers know me better, deeper and realer than my teachers, extended family, and people I encounter every day. That's just... a strange thing to think about.

On the same note, however, there are some aspects of my personality that I choose to keep more private, or altogether hidden-- ones I've alluded to, but never really explained. Now, this post isn't about to become a tell-all autobiography full of secrets and humiliations. But I've seen through example that a lot of my readers are about my age, or going through situations similar to the ones I describe in this blog, and I feel like there's something I ought to say, in the event that it will resonate with someone else.

I naturally have some very depressive tendencies. There's depression on both sides of my family, and it's something I've felt to varying degrees for much of my life. Right now, I'm in an almost overwhelmingly Good Phase. That lethargic sadness has still been a large part of me, though, and it could likely come back at some point. And I thought it was about time that I told you about it.

It bewilders me when people talk about how much they wish they could be five years old again, or seven, or nine, as if those were truly "simpler times" without stress and sadness. I don't think I'm a particularly negative person, and yet almost all my memories of elementary school are of anxiety and nervousness and frustration and guilt. I specifically remember an incidence at the beginning of first grade, when the teacher told us to take out a sheet of paper and write down all the words we knew how to spell. This was my opportunity to prove myself. If, at the end of the five minutes, I didn't have more and better words than everyone else did, I would... I don't know. It literally felt like I would die. Just thinking about it, I can still bring back that feeling of all-consuming pressure. Unadulterated sickness. I was sweating, and crying, and embarrassed about crying, and putting holes through the paper with my eraser. I could barely see through my blurry, wet eyes, I was hot all over, and I was pressing so hard that my thick pencil lines were black and feathered. Do people just forget when they grow up? When they envision being six years old, do they only see sunshine and bike rides and sidewalk chalk?

It's the same--only significantly worse-- with middle school. Adults too easily cast those years off with a wave of the hand, throwing around cliches like, "Oh, it was awkward, but it's over" and "It'll go by faster than you know it." Perhaps when you're middle aged, and the past thirty years of your life have been relatively stagnant with regards to your body and career and living situation, middle school can just seem like three awkward years. But when you've only been alive for thirteen years, and you've only had an email address for one, and different teachers for two, and you wake up on a random morning to--surprise!--breasts, it's not possible to simply grin and bear your metalshop teeth. Hearing that "this too shall pass" doesn't help, because a minute is an extremely long time when you're living it.

Oh, and then there's high school. Okay, so you mostly look like an adult. And you can drive a car like an adult. You can buy cigarettes, you can vote, you can have all the babies your classmates can supply you. BUT... you can't go to the bathroom without written permission from some lady with a bad perm. Your friendships are transient and subject to change. You're expected to make life-altering decisions, but you have to be home by eleven. Even for the popular, good-looking, athletic valedictorians, being a teenager is lonely and painful.

I have never had a difficult life. I've had the same close friends since before I could make phone calls, my parents and siblings are supportive, wonderful people, I'm healthy and white and financially secure and American. Yet, I've still had long stretches of time in my life when getting into the shower was an excruciatingly difficult task. I'd find myself silently repeating all day at school, like a mantra, I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home, and then, when I'd get home, I'd think, I am home. Why do I still feel nothing, and why is breathing so hard?

Basically... I'm not writing this with the intention of making you miserable, or to say that my cheerfulness is a lie, because I'm truly happy now, the majority of the time. I just want you to know that, if you're feeling any of the ways that I just described, you're not alone or broken. It tormented me to hear people say that it would get better... but it. Will. Get. Better.

Chipotle burritos this year: 16
Subscribers: 27,489
Nail color: "Lightening," Sally Hansen Insta-Dri

Pretty/Ugly/Funny/Whaaat: Video Edition

Hey, guys. Not much happened today, besides the fact that my pet fish signed up for Twitter. My sister keeps making her friends call me, hoping they'll nag me into going to some party full of strangers. I'd probably consider it on a different Saturday, but it's raining, dark, and I just bought cereal. You know what I'm sayin'?

This is another one of those oh-shoot-I-have-to-blog-before-midnight kinds of posts, but there's at least a slight possibility that the following videos will make you smile. Anyway, thank you for your sweet comments yesterday; you guys always manage to make me feel like my sedentary, nerdy existence is somehow worth writing about. I hope you're all having lovely weekends, and I'll see you tomorrow. :)

Pretty: I find this ridiculously endearing. Realistic, understated relationshippy stuff always gets to me.



Ugly: But just SO TRUE. (Tiny bit of profanity, youngins. So, like. Wear headphones.)



Funny: I know you don't want to watch this one, but try. She says something early on that'll make the whole song--especially its lyrics-- hysterical.



Whaaat: I... I mean, just LOOK at them!



Chipotle burritos this year: 15
Subscribers: 27,419
Nail color: "Lightening," Sally Hansen Insta-Dri

Medium Iced Passion

"Heeey."

Sigh. He's short, nondescript, wearing a brown sweatshirt and trying too hard. Had he approached me like this-- in a coffee shop, drawing out his vowels all flirty-like-- just six months ago, I might have thought about it. But tonight, as I stand in line for my iced tea, I'm silently flattered and trying not to laugh out of discomfort. "Hey," I say back, and I pause my iPod, accidentally dropping it in the process. I bungee it back into my hand by the headphones, in an uncharacteristically graceful motion. I'm secretly proud of myself for that one.

"Were you listening to Ben Folds?"
"Um! Yes," I say to the boy, smiling. To the barista in front of me, I say, "Medium iced Passion with two bags, please."
The boy bounces awkwardly. "I love Ben Folds."

Now, I don't get hit on very often (as soon as I publish this blog post, I'm going to the library on a Friday night) so I'm not even sure if he was being flirty or just friendly. But, either way, I always know a good opportunity when I see it.

"Me too!" I say. "So you must be pretty excited about Mike Lombardo's new album, right?"

The boy looks like he's considering lying ("Totally; I'm so excited!"), but probably senses that he'll be caught and embarrassed. Instead, he looks down at his feet and says, "I don't think I've heard of him."

"Oh my God! He's going to be the next big thing. He's like Ben Fold's younger, better-looking brother," I say, loosely quoting something I think I've seen on Mike's website bio.
"Oh, cool," the boy says, stepping up to order something annoying like black coffee. "What's his name again?"

I mean... I'm not entirely proud of the fact that I took advantage of some stranger in order to promote my boyfriend's career, but as I wrote "dftba.com/mike" on an old Chipotle receipt and told him that Mike Lombardo is my favorite musician (true) and that Everyone Awesome Ever is pre-ordering Songs For A New Day (slowly becoming true), I couldn't help but feel like a total badass.

The two of us hovered by the door for a few minutes, him telling me about some obscure band I've never heard of, and me nodding noncommittally and sipping my red tea. I did a pretty good impression of someone polite, and then we parted ways. As I walked down the street, giggling to myself, I pulled out my phone and hit the speed dial for my favorite musician.

"I have such a funny story for you!"

Chipotle burritos this year: 15
Subscribers: 27,364
Nail color: "Lightening," Sally Hansen Insta-Dri

We're women, here, fabulous, way too loud.

Blaaah. Hi, guys. Blaaaaah. Below are some scattered thoughts.

--Am I wrong for thinking it's inappropriate to write well-wishes on a dead person's facebook wall? A boy who graduated from my small high school died this week (I didn't really know him, but he was a friend of my sister's, and I'm casual friends with his brothers), and I just feel sick, seeing "Yo man ur fam is in my prayrs," followed by "5 people 'like' this." I don't know. Is this comforting to some people? Honestly, if it is, then I'm glad. But it sort of makes me cringe. It's not easy to think of things to say when an acquaintance loses a loved one, but don't they at least deserve a card?

--There's some kind of wild, loud chanting going on outside my window. "We're women. We're here. We're fabulous. Don't f*** with us." What is this? Do any of you know? It's becoming increasingly difficult to ignore, and, I mean, I will gladly refrain from f***ing with you, but could you please be fabulous elsewhere until 30 Rock is over?

--Lately, I've been craving some uninterrupted Alone Time, and I'm certainly going to get my fair share this weekend. Most of my friends are going home, so it appears I have three days of movies, sisterly bonding, and homeworking ahead of me. I'm sort of excited about it. And I don't mean "sort of" in the flirty understatement way. I don't really meaning "very, very excited." I mean what I said. I'm actually just... sort of excited. Here's hoping I won't just be lonely and bored.

--I ate too much today. Surprise. I wish I had as much willpower as my betta fish. Atlas stops eating when he's full. What does that say about me?

--Even though I already feel like I could puke, I need a taste of optimism. Tell me, readers, why is your day awesome?

Chipotle burritos this year: 15
Subscribers: 27,334
Nail color: Bare. Working on it.

Questions, Part 2

You guys make me feel... important. And that's saying a lot, considering I was accosted on the street tonight by a guy who pointed his finger at me and exclaimed, "You! You're... that... girl! From YouTube! You're so-and-so's sister, and you're on YouTube!" So, once again, thank you all for your wonderful questions, and for recognizing me as a person, rather than a sister or Some Girl. I think I'll get back to normal blogging tomorrow, but if you have any more burning questions (or really want me to answer ones I've ignored the past two days), feel free to nag me. I'll see you tomorrow, lovelies!

Izzy and Alexis ask: "Why did you start using YouTube?"
Answer: I searched Google for a full video of the original cast of Rent, and I found this tiny little website called YouTube. It had an itsy bitsy community of real people (TheHill88, boh3m3, thewinekone, brookers, etc.) being hilarious in front of webcams, and as soon as I stumbled upon ifancythetrio, I had a feeling I could be good at vlogging.

Alylurker asks: "What do you think of Glee? I love it to pieces but it's just so bad!"
Answer: Sigh. The majority of the time, Glee seems to be nothing more than a nauseating attempt to sell autotuned covers of popular songs. However, once in a blue moon, it has the ability to be extremely clever, and a lot of the dialogue is very real and funny. I was talking to The Situation about this today, and he said (perhaps rightfully), "Nobody would like that show without the music." But honestly? I think I would prefer it without the music. It's one of the only shows I've ever seen that doesn't live up to the high bar of its pilot episode.

Tamar asks: "If you could choose to be born in any different time period, what would you choose?"
Answer: I believe I was born at the absolute perfect time. I got to grow up alongside Harry Potter, I was one of the first couple thousand members of YouTube, I'm part of the first generation to be lightyears ahead of its parents when it comes to understanding technology.

Katie asks: "What's your favorite YouTube video? What's your favorite of your own creations?"
Answer: I have hundreds of favorite videos, but the first one that comes to mind is this. My favorite of MY videos is this one. I don't know why. It's pretty much the only one that doesn't make me cringe if I have to watch it again.

Sue asks: "Favorite John Green book? Favorite Hank Green song? Who is in your guilt-free three?"
Answer: 1) An Abundance of Katherines. 2) "I'm Not Edward Cullen." 3) Harry Potter, Paul McCartney, Scarlett Johansson.

Mickey asks: "Favorite non-mainstream YouTube channels? How do you make friends in college?"
Answer: 1) JustMargaret, Friendswobenefits, alliteration1247, sonofastitch. 2) I guess I just got lucky. I met a lot of my school friends because they recognized me from the internet (yikes!), and I bonded with some of the girls on my floor pretty easily. My advice is to keep your door open, to make comments to people in your classes, and to be overly friendly until everyone settles in.

Seanababy16 asks: "Do you have any regrets? Do you believe people when they say they have no regrets at all? If you could meet any real person, living or dead, and one fictional person, who would they be?"
Answer: 1) A year ago, I thought people who claimed to have no regrets were lying. And crazy. But I've come to realize lately that every decision, every action, and every thought puts us somewhere we're supposed to be, and I'm happy enough NOW that all my past suffering seems worth it. 2) Jo Rowling and Hermione Granger. I feel like Hermione's account would be the most accurate and insightful of the main Potter characters.

Jordan asks: "What about Elizabethtown makes it your favorite movie?"
Answer: It's like... this beautiful commentary on life after losing a loved one, wrapped up in Romantic Comedy's clothing. Simultaneously poignant, funny and pretty.

Ayamizuno asks: "Is Secret Assignments the same book as Finding Cassie Crazy?"
Answer: Yes. And it's one of my top five all-time favorite books.

Sarah asks: "Do you like Jaclyn Moriarty's other books? Why is Lacey your favorite John Green character?"
Answer: 1) Yes! I adore all of them. In fact, if we're excluding Jo Rowling (since she's barely human), Jaclyn Moriarty is my favorite living author. 2) I've always been a sucker for the "tortured soul popular girl" characters. It must be a lot of pressure to maintain the image of being "perfect," but nobody ever feels sympathetic for the pretty ones. It reminds me that everyone has pain, no matter how much they appear to be in control.

Lewis asks: "What's your favorite Pokemon?"
Answer: Psyduck always amused me. But I would kill for a real Pikachu.

Ben asks: "Do you seriously, legitimately read all of your youtube comments?"
Answer: Yes!

Alex asks: I get different images from your writing and your videos. In your videos you seem a lot more lively and crazy, and in your blog you seem very pensive and emotional. What are you most like in real life? How would you describe your day to day attitude and personality?
Answer: I think 5AG Hayley is who most people see and know, Hayleyghoover Hayley is who I am with my friends when I'm in a good mood, and Hayleylujah Chorus Hayley is who I am with those I'm closest to.

TheGingerHermione asks: "Are there any movies that make you cry every time you watch them?"
Answer: Well, I sort of have this problem. I've never really been good at crying out of sadness or strong emotion. Mostly, I store it all up and then explode over something small and stupid, about once every two months. But if I were to cry like a normal human, I'd probably cry over Half-Blood Prince. And I get very upset about the series finales of good TV shows.

Chipotle burritos this year: 14
Subscribers: 27,308
Nail color: Chipped and nasty.

Questionssss.

Wow, guys! I'm sort of overwhelmed with all your thoughtful questions in yesterday's comments. I'm going to get to the ones that strike me as easily answerable tonight, and perhaps I'll touch on some more tomorrow. Feel free to ask more, if you feel like it, and feel equally free to tell me if this was boring. :)

Daniella asks: "What colour are your eyes? I always thought they were hazel but in some videos they look blue."
Answer: I call them green, but your guess is as good as mine.

Alcnor asks: "What... is your favorite color of nail polish... OF ALL TIME?"
Answer: White.

Cat asks: "What is your favorite thing about the internet? What do you do when you can't sleep? What other blogs do you read? Who are the people that you look up to the most: family? internet? famous people? etc.?"
Answer: 1) The ability to connect with people based on common interests, rather than common location. 2) Talk on Skype. 3) Tons! My favorite bloggers are Jess McFadden, Kristina Horner, Mindy Kaling, and Nikki Malvar. 4) My parents, my siblings, and my boyfriend.

Marwa asks: "What made you first realise you wanted to be a writer?"
Answer: As soon as I realized writing could be a job, I knew it was the only one I'd be happy having.

Christina asks: "What is your favorite part of Ohio University? What is the one thing that can always make you smile, no matter what? When is your first novel being published?"
Answer: 1) The campus! Rolling hills and old brick buildings. 2) The Year of Secret Assignments by Jaclyn Moriarty. 3) Whenever I manage to get it out of my head!

toastburntbread asks: "Did you ever envision who you are and where you are, when you were still in high school?"
Answer: At the end of my senior year, I knew I'd be at OU, but I never would have guessed I'd be so happy.

Katie asks: "What's your favorite childhood memory?"
Answer: I have this vivid image in my head of getting stuck in a mud puddle with Jess, when we were about eight years old.

Tom asks: "With writing, what are your thoughts on the whole idea of 'inspiration?' Are you one of those people who thinks that one must just sit down and WRITE and that hard work is all that is required, or do you believe in, I don't know, Muses, or whatever?"
Answer: I love the idea of Muses, but I know for a fact that the only way to write well is to write. You won't accomplish as much meditating on a story for a year as you will working on it for a week. That being said, I hypocritically do a lot more meditating than I do working.

Dinah asks: "I know both Kayley and Lauren have expressed on their blogs (or maybe just in Kayley's comment section) that they sometimes resent aspects of having an internet fanbase and occasionally find it more frustrating than rewarding, so what are your thoughts on the whole thing, and how do you keep yourself from feeling that way if you ever do?"
Answer: I can easily understand that feeling of overexposure, and every once in awhile, I'll find myself wishing for a vacation from broadcasting my soul to the world. But at the end of the day, I positively love my job and my hobbies, and you guys make it all so fun.

Sarah asks: "What character to you feel you best relate to from a novel written by John Green? If you could have any animal as a pet, wild or otherwise, what would you pick?"
Answer: 1) Lacey from Paper Towns. Actually, I'm not sure if I relate to her, but she's my absolute favorite John Green character. 2) Elijah Wood.

Jane asks: "Do you ever feel overwhelmed going to such a big university? Why do you belong to Gryffindor?"
Answer: 1) No-- most of our classes are small enough that you get to know people. 2) I was obnoxious when I was eleven, and would have been sorted in with the other uninhibited people.

Ben asks: "Apart from English, what was your favorite subject at school? And worst?"
Answer: Hello to Ben Cracknell in Lowestoft, England. I liked French, and I'm terrible at math.

Allison asks: "What is your favorite thing to dress up as?"
Answer: Madonna. Honestly, that answer has nothing to do with Glee. I just love being Madonna.

Erik asks: "Are people inherently good or bad?"
Answer: I very much believe they're good.

Claire asks: "What's your favorite poem (pre-1950)? Favorite contemporary poem?"
Answer: 1) "A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning" by John Donne. 2) Sharon Olds is amazing, but I'm not sure I have one favorite.

Julia asks: "Favorite movie?"
Answer: Elizabethtown.

Ansley asks: "ARE YOU GOING TO VIDCON?"
Answer: Nope. It's the same time as the camp I work at. Aaaand I have no money.

Chipotle burritos this year: 14
Subscribers: 27,279
Nail color: "Green with Envy," ORLY

I love my dad.

I come bearing two of the following things: good news, a grin, and the immaculately-conceived second coming of Christ. I don't want to spoil the fun in guessing, so I won't tell you which ones are true, but I'll give you some hints. 1) My professor really liked my first short story, and always gives me little looks to let me know that he approves of the points I make in class discussion. 2) I'm eating hot salsa, and it's delicious. 3) I'm not pregnant.

I fully expect you to guess in the comments.

Hi, guys! Even though I've been posting something every day this month, I feel like it's been awhile since we sat down and had a real chat. My past couple of updates have felt more like we're exchanging hurried waves in a crowded hallway. I'm in the mood for a relaxing cup-of-tea conversation.

So. On the topic of conversation, I got the opportunity to have an extensive talk with my dad this weekend. Just the two of us, standing around the kitchen, eating chips and musing. Truly, one of my favorite pastimes. There's no one I respect more-- not Jo Rowling, not the founder of Chipotle, not even Carrot Top*-- and I value his opinions so much. I don't often talk about my father online, because I feel like our relationship is almost too important and personal for me to discuss haphazardly, but he probably deserves a little more screen time around these parts.

I am ridiculously fortunate, as a somewhat chaotic, artistic person, to have such support from a man who thrives in discipline and order. It would be easy for him to push me to get a practical degree, or to roll his eyes at the idea of writing for a living, or to think of youtube as a waste of time. But I receive nothing but praise, encouragement and positive advice from my dad, who believes I'm talented enough to make a living off an art, and who would willingly help support my broke ass if I ended up living in a cardboard box on a street corner. He honestly wants me to be happy in life, and he tries to help me get there. I have an exceptional father, and I will never be able to sufficiently praise him for all the good he does.

Forgive me for that grand proclamation; I've just spent the past few days doting on my wonderful parents, realizing more and more how lucky and undeserving I am. I think I'll write up a "Why I Love My Mom" post soon. I have such beautiful people in my life.

In unrelated news, I was wondering... do you have any questions for me that you'd like to have answered in tomorrow's blog? I don't ask simply because I'm too lazy to come up with new things to discuss each day (although that's, uh, part of it), and I don't just want you to inquire as to, like, my favorite potato product**, but if there's anything you have legitimate interest in knowing, feel free to comment. I'll try to get to all of them tomorrow. See you then!

Chipotle burritos this year: 14
Subscribers: 27,248
Nail color: "Green with Envy," ORLY (I need to change it!)

*Haaaaaaaaa. Sorry.
*Unless you're (somehow) actually interested. Then feel free to ask.
...Sweet potato fries.

A TACO bell.

Hayley Hoover: when is freaking april over?
Mike Lombardo: april 30th
Hayley Hoover: uuuuggghhhhh
Mike Lombardo: post this conversation
Mike Lombardo: let's have a really interesting conversation and you can post that
Hayley Hoover: okay. let's have a blog-worthy conversation.
Mike Lombardo: Hit it, Rockapella.
Hayley Hoover: SAY, MIKE LOMBARDO!
Mike Lombardo: GEE, HAYLEY HOOVER. WHAT'S UP
Hayley Hoover: DON'T YOU HAVE A NEW ALBUM AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER SOON?
Mike Lombardo: I DO! IT GOES ON PREORDER TOMORROW! FOR ONLY 12 DOLLARS! AND IT'S 2 CD'S! AND A VIDEO! HOW COOL.
Mike Lombardo: I am suffering from caps lock fatigue.
Mike Lombardo: it's the digital equivalent of yelling your throat out at a concert.
Hayley Hoover: my sister just made me call taco bell.
Hayley Hoover: on the phone.
Mike Lombardo: hahahahaha
Hayley Hoover: the guy was about as friendly as one would expect a taco bell employee to be over the phone.
Mike Lombardo: he was probably really excited that it even rang
Hayley Hoover: RANG!
Hayley Hoover: LIKE A BELL!
Hayley Hoover: A TACO BELL!
Mike Lombardo: That's punny.
Mike Lombardo: Hold on, I feel an urge to urinate.

Chipotle burritos this year: 14
Subscribers: 27,207
Nail color: "Green with Envy," ORLY

Nonsense.

"That doesn't make any sense," I say. "Nobody's going to think it's funny."
"Yes they will," Jess informs me. "They love me. I have a beautiful and adoring audience. Write this in your blog...

"One day, I came home from school. Jess was a magical unicorn master. She showed me the challenge for eating powdered doughnuts in three minutes, as thus was pertained by* Christopher "Big Black" Boykin. Thusses, (that's t-h-u-s-s-e-s), I refused her challenge, but raised her one, with a jar of pretzels and a quadrangle of homemade cookies that my mom won in an auction. On Degrassi that day, um, the, um, mystical chocolate factory diva salad was real. It just got real. And the uniforms were covered in sequins. The end. That's all I've got."

So, uh. That's my best friend, trying to be as weird and nonsensical as possible. She's sitting next to me right now, as we have an unofficial cookie-eating contest, and she continues to dictate stupid paragraphs, which I'm promptly ignoring and not transcribing into this post. "You're embarrassed of me!" she says. "You don't want your blog readers to think I'm crazy, you don't like when I call your boyfriend and ask him what he had to eat today...."

So, readers, to prove my undying loyalty, I ask you: do you think my best friend is crazy? And what have you eaten today?

Chipotle burritos this year: 14
Subscribers: 27,157
Nail color: "Green with Envy," ORLY

*She understands that this means nothing.

P.S. The big secret I alluded to last night has been revealed all over twitter, so I can now proudly announce that two of my favorite people, Lauren Fairweather and Matt Maggiacomo, are finally engaged! Send your congratulatory tweets here and here; they deserve it.

Suuuuccckkkssss

For some reason, I feel really strange coming to you guys in an unhappy mood. This time last year, all I ever posted was a messy cacophony of "nobody understaaaaands me"s, but now that I'm a Happy Person, I find myself suppressing guilt for publishing anything other than rainbows and puppies. Ah, well. Even my sadness is due to an overload of happiness.

In case you're wondering, no, there's nothing wrong. I had a lot of fun at the concert last night. Ben Folds is so freaking awesome. He played this song, which had me gasping for breath, I was laughing so hard... but that gasping may have also been due to how unbearably hot it was inside. And I mean unbearably. Like, losing-ten-pounds-instantly, might-pass-out-in-a-sweat-puddle, images-of-a-jaunty-Satan-dancing-in-my-head. My thin cotton dress felt like a parka filled with insulation. I lived to tell the tale, though. Ever to my rescue, The Situation lifted my hair up and blew cold air on the back of my neck. Because he's the kind of guy who thinks to do stuff like that.

Which brings us to the shameful melancholy. I'm effervescently in love, and we make the whole "long distance" thing work without much effort, but, in the event that you've never had to say a long-term goodbye to your boyfriend about twice a month, LET ME TELL YOU, IT SUCKS. I don't mean to go all Bella Swan on you, and I promise I'm not about to jump off a cliff or lie in the woods and scream, but I just feel so... uh, I don't know. Homesick. Off. Hollow. Or something like those words.

Gosh, I can't find a way to describe it without sounding completely melodramatic. There are no goopy black mascara tracks down my cheeks, I'm not clutching a shoebox full of his used tissues. However, I will admit to changing into my pajamas early, eating pizza rolls, and turning off my phone, to make for optimal grieving conditions. But I'll get back into the swing of things tomorrow, and I'll recover. For now... I just feel blaaah.

Sorry, guys. To make up for it, here's something hilarious. And for those of you outside the US who can't access Hulu, um, here. That's pretty funny as well.

Chipotle burritos this year: 13
Subscribers: 27,127
Nail color: "Green with Envy," ORLY

P.S. I just received some AMAZING news. I'm not totally sure if I'm allowed to share it with the whole world just yet, but something very, very good is currently happening for a friend of mine. A friend a lot of you are likely to follow online.

200 Things

Aww. According to Blogger, this is my 200th post in the Hayleylujah Chorus. In celebration....

200 Things on My Mind Today:

1. I'm in class, and my health teacher (remember her? O'Donbridge?) is talking about the dangers of breast cancer. Now, breast cancer is scary, important, and definitely not something any woman should feel embarrassed about discussing, but instead of just saying, "Women should have mammograms and do self-checks every month," she's currently pantomiming a circular, rubbing motion around her old woman boob. Not for, like, a few seconds, just to demonstrate. She's been full-on groping herself for as long as I've been writing this paragraph. Am I wrong to feel uncomfortable?

2. I'm glad a lot of you were amused by yesterday's post. To answer a few questions, NO, I did NOT turn that in as an assignment. I just thought it would be funny to write a nauseatingly show-offy piece about how people like me are nauseatingly show-offy. Also, I legitimately appreciated the couple commenters who wanted to keep me in check by pointing out the hypocrisy of pointing out others' hypocrisies. I guess I wasn't clear enough, because that was sort of the point. My intention was to show how I'm just like the rest of them, who are just like everyone else. But, let me tell you-- I'm very grateful to know that, in the event I ever do say something mean or judgmental, I have supportive readers who care enough about me to point it out. :)

3. I'm going to a Ben Folds concert tonight! As soon as this class is over, I'm driving a few hours home from school, where I'm going to meet The Situation (who's currently driving the six hours to my house), then driving with him to Cleveland. Ahh. The adventures I get myself into in the pursuit of sexy pianists.

4. Unfortunately, I think I'll have to use my first free pass for fiveawesomegirls tonight. I tried to make a video yesterday, but instead, I ended up finishing my homework for the next week so I wouldn't have to worry about it. To make up for it, item number 5 will include everything I would have said in a video.

5[AG]. Hey, girls. It's Thursday! Today is awesome because I'm going to see Ben Folds. This is some footage of my college campus. It's beautiful. Here's a clip of me scaring some stranger by interrogating him about why his day is awesome. I miss you all, you're freaking great, and Liane, I'll see you tomorrow.

6. I really don't think I'll be able to come up with 194 other things to say.

7. This was a really dumb idea.

8. I'm chewing a piece of spearmint gum.

9. Jess called off work this weekend so the two of us can have an all-day Best Friend Fest on Saturday. I think I'll stop eating today so I can make room for the inevitable hot salsa-induced damage I'll be doing to my stomach lining.

10. Did I say 200? I meant ten. Ten Things on My Mind Today. That's what I said.

Chipotle burritos this year: 13
Subscribers: 27,068
Nail color: "Green with Envy," ORLY

A Pretentious Portrait of Pretension

Fiction Writing class. The little room is stuffy, full of legal pads and enough decaying biographies on Shakespeare that you sort of want to wear a beret, smoke menthols, and compare the color of the table to Contemplation or Sorrow. But it's just blue.

A small girl with an angular face wears predictably unusual costume jewelry. She displays it by sitting up straight, never moving her whole head more than a centimeter, but constantly flickers her eyes beneath a furrowed brow, as if she's in a permanent state of deep, pained thought.

A large boy with an honest-to-God* handlebar mustache extracts a lot of pleasure out of looking down and mumbling to himself, though he would never admit to taking pleasure in anything at all. He wraps a bandanna around his unwashed long hair, too bitter and unsmiling to succumb to social norms for the sake of his fellow bitter and unsmiling students.

Clearing her throat theatrically, a girl in all black prepares to divulge her brilliant criticism about another Bard's new short story-- a tale of delicious misery, hurting so good, and how great it feels to feel awful. "I like that you chose this word," she says, pointing to one polysyllabic analogical archaic morpheme. Or some shit. "Not many people know this word," she adds. "But I read the dictionary, so."

I almost can't stop myself from chuckling this time. Honey. We all read the dictionary. We've all uttered that identical sentence before (accompanied by identical flicks of the hand) when we've felt our supreme pretentiousness was being challenged: "I read the dictionary, so." That's why we're here. That's why we're majoring in Creative Writing. Every single one of us is that person determined to never be part of a "them."

We're all so laughably similar in our attempts to be sickeningly different.


Chipotle burritos this year: 13
Subscribers: 27,042
Nail color: "Green with Envy," ORLY

*Extremely hardcore students of John Green's writing: See what I did there?

Pretty/Ugly/Funny/Whaaat

I'm going to be honest with you. There are days when I look forward to nothing more than dazing off into the serene sanctuary of my blog, totally relaxing, coming up with bullshitty phrases like "serene sanctuary" simply to amuse myself. And then there are those rare days-- like this one-- when I can barely muster the energy to keep my eyes open, let alone to find something worthy of publishing to a large number of people.

Today was a pretty average day. I went to class, I talked to The Situation, I made a video, I watched Glee with my school friends, and I had a phone conversation with Jess about how beautiful glass is. I'm rather storyless, my current emotional state is not extreme in either direction, and it's 11:15 at night. So, uh.

Here's what I'm thinking. I'll start a new series, for those times when I need to get something posted, but have nothing to say. Every now and then, I'll update with either pictures, videos, or quotes (or any other medium I think of later) under four categories: Pretty, Ugly, Funny, and Whaaat. I'm coming up with this idea right now, as we speak, but I think I'll try to keep it going. So without further ado:

Pretty:I don't own any of these, but I'd like to. Especially the second from the left.

Ugly:
I have a folder on my desktop called "Dumb Children on Facebook," in which I place screenshots from the ridiculous posts that come up in my news feed.

Funny:
A total classic. Who doesn't love Pizza John?

Whaaat:
I've seen this picture a million times, and it still baffles me. No one else is amused like I am. But you guys like it, don't you? It's a DOG. In a BUN.

So... yeah, that's all I've got. I apologize for the lameness, but sometimes we all need a break. I hope you've had more exciting evenings than I have. Until tomorrow, lovely readers.

Chipotle burritos this year: 13
Subscribers: 27,016
Nail color: "Green with Envy," ORLY

Anxiety and Missin' You Like Candy (yea-ee-yeah-ah)

Looooooooong exhaaaaaaaale. Hi, guys. It's been an exciting day for schoolwork.* I woke up early in order to finish a story for my writing class, for which I was so prepared that I didn't even have a concept until I was halfway into the second page. The finished product is certainly no masterpiece, but it doesn't appear to be a total disaster. Either way, I'm incredibly nervous, waiting to hear my (hot, British) professor's thoughts regarding my work. He has a sort of no-nonsense facial demeanor, making it very apparent when he approves or disapproves of something, and I don't know if my annoyingly fragile ego can handle too much negative criticism. So far, by the grace of God, he's seemed impressed with the points I make in class, and it's a top priority of mine to stay liked. Perhaps I have issues.

Oh. No, actually. I know I have issues.

A lesser-known fact about me is that, for the apparently laid-back exterior I work so hard to maintain, I'm actually quite the nervous wreck when it comes to those things I deem important. I constantly stare at the digital clock in my car, as if arriving to an unimportant appointment two minutes late will have me drawn and quartered. I've taken ibuprofen before Algebra tests to calm my psychosomatic headaches. I've had dreams haunted by misplaced commas. Before I owned a laptop, I actually got out of bed on more than one occasion, maneuvered my way through the dark downstairs to the computer, and squinted my half-sleeping eyes open in order to check for an imagined punctuation error on a blog post or video description. I know that people get nervous from time to time, and I don't consider myself a particularly nervous person in most regards (public speaking doesn't faze me, and I'm fairly competent at making new friends), but when I feel the pressure to prove my adequacy or responsibility or talent, I slip into a borderline anxiety disorder.

The reason I tell you this is because, today, as I reached for my freshly printed short story to hand in, all the color flushed immediately from my face. Out of habit from producing too many MLA-formatted essays, I'd accidentally underlined the title. Underlined! Short story titles go inside quotation marks. I came out of the womb knowing that! Now I was going to look like one of those ordinary people who don't know to put short story titles in quotation marks. Or worse-- what if everyone else in the class remembered to use quotation marks, and I was the lazy girl who just didn't find things like punctuation important? What if the professor took one look at my story and thought, This is disgusting. Why would I even bother reading such a haphazard, underlined mess?

I ended up penciling in a set of ugly quotes around the underlining, and breathed only once I saw that another girl had forgotten to even bring her story to class. A few minutes after this episode, I realized that it seemed a little silly... and upon my reflection now, it all seems completely ludicrous and deranged. NOBODY CARES. Billboards are made with major grammatical errors. One typo on one college paper doesn't matter at ALL. Why do I get so worked up about such frivolity? Seriously. I'm almost making myself anxious by thinking about my nonsensical anxiety.

Anyway, I ended the day by meeting with half the people I was assigned to work with on a group project for Health (we were unable to contact the other members, because, go figure, that's how group projects always are), just to find out that the "credible" sources they'd found on our topic included what looked like an Angelfire site from the mid-nineties, complete with bright green Times New Roman on a dark purple background. Unwilling to look for polite ways to refrain from strangling strangers, I just sighed and offered to redo the whole project by myself, free of charge. Obviously, they took me up on it, and I spent the rest of my evening manipulating Wikipedia facts to appear researched. High-five!

So. Yeah. I'm sorry-- I didn't intend to be a Debbie Downer tonight. I apologize. To make it up to you, let's communally make fun of a young Mandy Moore. Blog readers, I'm cravin' for you. I'm missin' you like can-day-ay-ay-ay.

Chipotle burritos this year: 13
Subscribers: 26,897
Nail color: "Green with Envy," ORLY

*"An exciting day for schoolwork." I'm Hermi'ne Granger. And... you are?

She's so hot, she's making me sexist.

The title has nothing to do with this post. It was literally the first irrelevant sentence that came to mind.

Anyway! So now you've met Jess. The funny thing about her (well, besides EVERYTHING; her natural hilarity makes my best efforts look bad) is that, when she asks how you're doing, or what you've eaten recently, she's asking because she genuinely cares. You know how some people make it totally apparent that they're only asking you questions so they have time to think about what they're going to say in response? My best friend has such a pure and kind soul that she just honestly cares. I normally suppress my urges to devote this entire blog to the adoration of Jess, so I'll spare you from here on. But. I am wholeheartedly grateful for the opportunity to have someone so vivacious and compassionate in my life, and I'm glad you got to have the tiniest glimpse of her in yesterday's I'm-too-busy-hanging-out-with-my-boyfriend-to-write-anything post.

Speaking of The Situation, I had a wonderful weekend. Without exaggeration, his hometown is the one of the most adorable places I've ever been. Dark green grass, rolling hills, grayish sky, little shops and nonfranchised restaurants, rows of pretty houses in muted colors. His house is just as lovely and inviting as his mother, who made cinnamon rolls in the morning and put fresh flowers in a vase next to my bed. Oh my goodness, and she is beautiful. It's almost laughable how attractive their family is. If this were 2008 and I had less respect for myself, I would make Twilight comparisons.

On top of that, his dad is friendly (and handsome), and he made me laugh more than once... and The Situation's sister is just plain awesome. She puts hot sauce on Ramen noodles and makes fun of her brother and is incredibly amusing in the Ginny Weasley way. I'm still half expecting to wake up from Dreamland and realize that the past three days didn't happen, and that there is no perfect man with a cute family in a cute town who's somehow in love with me. I am far too lucky and did nothing to deserve such a beautiful life.

On that note, I'm caught awkwardly between Exhaustion Township and Homeworksville, where people labor their way through essays, sprinkling unnecessary adverbs haphazardly, in the hopes of filling enough space, and where they make nonsensical jokes, like pretending Exhaustion is a proper noun. So before I can bring up any more parts of speech, I'm going to leave you. Until tomorrow, readers!

Chipotle burritos this year: 13
Subscribers: 26,858
Nail color: "Green with Envy," ORLY

I, Hayley Hoover, hereby decree:

So this woman walks up to register five holding some supplements or whatever you buy at the store where I work, and you know, she seems alright. But then she starts this rant about hemp? And, let me just tell you, it's good to be working register six.

My name is Jess, and something I was thinking about today at work is how people are CRAZY. And I was thinking, you know, we sure put a lot of conviction into arguments that could be proven wrong! Anyway, Hayley's in New York and stuff.

Hayley Hoover is my best friend because we completely understand and love each other. No matter how much she changes in life or what she does, I'll never even be disappointed in her because I always get where she's coming from (and like 98% of my opinions are based off hers)! Everything she does and thinks and says is srsly dabomb.com.

I won't spend very much time on this, even though I'm HONORED! because I've got places ta be tonight. I'm wearing black jeggings with a weird maybe-it's-in-style-but-probably-not-because-it's-from-dots shirt, with black platform flip flops that are (or were at one time) Hayley's. The shirt is sheer and ruffly with a peasant top neck and some print on it that reminds me of peacocks and eggplants. It's long enough to compensate for the cut of these pants, but there's elastic in the waist that keeps making it ride up. I bought the shirt yesterday, along with more clothes, so we'll have to wait, and see how it goes.

Another new thang about my day today is iced tea. I made sweet iced tea for the first time ever! because I love what they sell at McDonald's? So my mom taught me how to (somewhat mockingly, because seriously who doesn't know how to make iced tea); and I loved it. The light from the window reflected in all the glass and ice, there were pictures of roses on the tea tags, there were tons of strings tangled together, wind chimes outside, a lot of brown sugar... aaah!

And that's about it.

The girl's always askin' you guys to answer questions in the comments box. So my question is, what have you eaten today? Also, I mean, how's it goin? What's news? What was the best part of your day? Or you could comment and say what you are overly convicted about. Do you argue with their friends when they want to drop the seat back in your truck? Do you roll your eyes when people use too many plastic bags? Are you just convinced that the world's going to end in 2012?*

Hope everyone has an awesome day! G2GTTYLLYLASLOLOMGBRBBYE
love, Jess

*That's okay. I like to think it will, too.

Hannah MonFlogging

[Editor's note: Before being disappointed by this lame excuse for a post, just go read Kristina's blog. I haven't even read it yet, but I guaranteed it to be more interesting.]

Fangirls of the world-- control yourselves. I'm currently sitting on Mike Lombardo's bed. I just watched Mike Lombardo complete a Rubik's Cube. And NOW I'm attempting to write a blog while MIKE LOMBARDO plays piano. I know. It's like "Hey Molly" come to life, minus the Ninja Turtles bedspread.

The drive here was actually a lot of fun. I literally laughed out loud at my own internal monologue more than once, which suggests that a) I could survive a situation like that movie Castaway, even sans volleyball, b) I'm possibly schizophrenic, or c) I'm a self-obsessed weirdo. Eh. Either way, the Rent soundtrack alone provided enough entertainment for six full hours. If you give it enough thought, every line Roger sings is more or less hilarious. "My life was DUST!" "Time DIES!" "I'll just get FAT!"

You know, I apologize. I was trying really hard to not neglect you guys, and to write a legitimate post today. But it's difficult to focus when someone is sitting behind you, hitting you repeatedly with a Hannah Montana pillow, and yelling, "This is a Hannah MonFlogging." I promise to make up for today's lack of content and witticism at the end of the weekend, when a grown man isn't shining a flashlight in my eyes just for his own amusement. "Put two spaces and then put the word 'poop,'" he suggests as the closing to this blog. So, uh....

poop

Chipotle burritos this year: 13
Subscribers: 26,772
Nail color: "Green with Envy," ORLY* (It's not green. It's teal.)

*ALSO not a photo of my hand, Jess.

Help me entertain myself?

For all the slack I get from my hyper-organized, high-achieving family for being the "carefree, Type B" child, I certainly have the ability to turn myself into a tightly-wound ball of anxiety. I just wrote three separate drafts of this first paragraph and erased them all, which is something I never do in blogs-- it's supposed to be my therapy, a more thoughtful demonstration of my stream of consciousness. And yet somehow, by worrying about one silly short story for one silly class, I've caused myself to feel nervous about writing in general. Goodness. Nobody's putting pressure on me! I'm psyching myself out for no reason!

Your comments yesterday were particularly helpful; thanks to everyone who took the time to try and calm me down. You're like one collective, textual strait jacket. I think I have a better idea of what I'm going to write about now, and I've started working a little bit... so let's just hope I make it out alive. I need a stress ball or something. Or a treadmill with a burrito hanging by a string in front of it.

ANYWAY, enough of my craziness. Let's take a few minutes to pretend like I'm not insane.

I'm going on a much-needed mental vacation this weekend, driving an almost excessive distance to hang out at The Situation's house for a few days. This is a supreme idea for the following reasons: a) I'm going to start twitching like a bird on a bug-zapper if I don't back away from my computer for at least a couple hours, b) I'm excited for the opportunity to prove that I'm responsible enough to handle driving long periods of time by myself, and c) my boyfriend is really freaking awesome.

However, even though seeing the coolest guy in the entire universe is totally worth it, I'm going to be in a car for a quite some time tomorrow morning. So, like... what should I do with myself? So far, my ideas include:

--Singing the entire Rent soundtrack almost three times and "playing" a different main character for each run-through. (For example, when you're Maureen, you sit quietly for the first act, then roll down the sun roof and scream, "Joanne, which way to the stage?!")
--Listening to Half-Blood Prince on CD and seeing how much of it I can recite from memory. The only downside to this idea is that Jim Dale-- while lovely and whatnot-- gets on my nerves because he doesn't sound like the voice in my head.
--Talking to myself? One-handed shadow puppets?

Have you ever driven six hours by yourself? If you were going to, how would you entertain yourself? Suggestions would be greatly appreciated! (But if you tell me to count license plates or something, I will cut you.) (Not really!) (But maybe.)

Chipotle burritos this year: 13
Subscribers: 26,695
Nail color: Stiiill plum, but I'm changing it tonight.

Doing what you're good at sucks.

I'm nervous, guys.
You're nervous, Hayley? Why? Is someone asking you to do math?
No, metaphorical responder. That's not it.
Does somebody expect you to perform several cartwheels with perfect form?
Uh, no. That's not it, either.
Then what? Are you being held at gunpoint, asked to list the periodic table of the elements?
No. You want to know why I'm nervous? I'm nervous about WRITING.
Writing? Why are you--
Shut up!

Yeah, you heard me correctly. My first short story is almost due for my "big kid writing class," and I am positively terrified of messing up. This is the moment of truth! What if I find out that I'm not as good as the Noir Bards? What if I learn that all these years of reading books about plot development, covering the back pages of class notebooks with interesting phrases and quotes, spewing my soul out to the internet... what if I learn that it was all in vain? What if I bring my story into class, the professor takes one look at it, and he yells, "Go back to Happy Candy Bear Island; you're terrible at this!" and I promptly implode?

Okay. I just reread the first half of this post and I realize that I'm acting like a psycho, but this is a high-pressure situation. I feel like I have so much to prove in such a small space. What do I write about? I don't want to produce a quirky-life-lessons-learned-blah-blah-cotton-candy-blah anecdote, because, a) sometimes you have to subscribe to the deep-dark-despair-and-black-Sharpie style in order to be taken seriously, and b) I don't want to start the class off in my comfort zone, in the event that I need to pull out all the stops for a later story.

What do you think? Should I push myself to write something more powerful, or should I stick with my light humor security blanket and see how it's received?

Chipotle burritos this year: 13
Subscribers: 26,650
Nail color: This is significantly less interesting when I'm updating daily. Still plum.

P.S. My Geography professor just preached about how high school cafeteria pizza is an effective form of birth control, since it makes you feel like your mouth is lined with cardboard, and there's enough garlic on it to kill a vampire, so no girl will want to come within twenty feet of the boys nasty enough to eat it.
P.P.S. Good luck today, Catherine! I hope you get the job!

Verbal Sunshine

Goodness, today was beautiful. Pure sunshine, eighty-eight degrees, green grass and blue sky. I spent most of the afternoon lying outside on a blanket with Heather, Erin and Roomie, doing our class reading, drinking iced tea out of glass bottles (which I've recently found to be the prettiest way possible to drink iced tea), and taking mini-naps with our shirts rolled up past our bellybuttons. At my request, Roomie tried to teach me how to do a cartwheel... to no avail. Erin filmed several minutes of me propelling myself onto the ground and kicking my legs helplessly, most attempts resulting in my landing in a heap. It was rather embarrassing, in a I'm-subjecting-myself-to-this-by-choice-so-I-can't-complain sort of way. Maybe a clip will make it into Thursday's video. If you ask nicely.

After I brought new meaning to the word "tumbling," we all worked out for about an hour, and then the four of us went to dinner, where I ate the most delicious taco salad to ever be crafted in an OU dining hall. Iceberg lettuce, white rice, black beans, tomato salsa, banana peppers, nacho cheese, guacamole, green onions, sour cream. It was like colorful taste bud elation. I had celery sticks with crunchy peanut butter for dessert, and they were refreshing but didn't taste quite like elation. They were equally gorgeous, though. Piercing light green. Like cat eyes. Not that I'd eat cat eyes, if there were other options available.

To cap off the day, we uncapped Erin's new tub of sidewalk chalk and took to the street outside our building. With the help of our friends Katie, Kelsey and James (when he wasn't playing on his new iPad, which is-- SURPRISE!-- like a much bigger, stupider iPod, even in person), we covered every surface with drawings of giraffes, Rick Astley lyrics, and Harry Potter quotes*. I even endured blacktop imprints on my knees in order to write, "Thomas Edison's last words were: 'It's very beautiful over there.' I don't know where there is, but I believe it's somewhere, and I hope it's beautiful."**

Finally, I added a giant "DFTBA," and a "Why was your day awesome?"
So I ask you, dear readers... why was YOURS?

Chipolte burritos this year: 13
Subscribers: 26,623
Nail color: Still that shade of plum, as well as dirt- and chalk-colored

*"Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?" as well as "What's coming will come, and we'll meet it when it does," and "Anything's possible if you've got enough nerve."
**From John Green's Looking For Alaska.

Ten Billion Readers!

Hello, lovely readers, and welcome to the fifth day of April. I would make some reference to BEDA being a sixth of the way done, but a) that implies that this challenge is a nuisance, when in actuality I love having the incentive to write daily, and b) I'm only fairly confident that thirty, divided by five, is six. Well-roundedness!

In news unrelated to my inability to count past ten, I'm thrilled that you guys got to take a Magic School Bus* roadtrip into the mind of The Situation yesterday. Perhaps now that you've seen how thoughtful and amusing he is, my "zomg my boyfriend is so awesome" gush-fests will come across as less nauseating. What a brilliant and genuine person! I could not be more grateful to have him, even if he were made of guacamole and phoenix feathers.

Still, I'm sorry for taking a day off early in the game; I was so completely taken aback by the response to my previous post that I needed a day to recuperate. I've been using every spare minute to read through comments, and I'm still nowhere near finished. Each time I refresh the page, more surveys come in. Right now, there are 582... but at the rate you fantastic people are typing, there could be ten billion comments by tomorrow night. That's right. Ten billion. I have more funny and interesting contacts than there are citizens of Earth.

Eh hem. Anyway, please believe me as much as you can after such sugar-fueled hyperbole as "I AM IN LOVE WITH TEN BILLION PEOPLE"-- It has been incredibly touching to read your comments**. Keshara, how did you manage to break your arms seven times? Abby, how are you managing to find time to read my dribble while you're in med school? Ellery, how have you managed to never eat Taco Bell?! Just... wow. You are all so interesting and sincerely appreciated.

One quick note, however. While the vast, vast majority of commenters who responded to my little "List several reasons why I'm cooler than Kristina Horner" joke were either very flattering to both Kristina and myself, or as equally silly ("You've eaten more Chipotle this year!"), there were a few sort of irresponsible comments that need to be addressed. Kristina and I maintain a playful, fictional rivalry because we have similar talents and interests, and because we're very good friends. Naturally, when you're frequently competing (on a public platform) against someone you both highly respect and want to be more like, comparisons are going to be drawn between the two of you. But, unlike with celebrities and politicians, we're totally average people who spend way too much time online, and our totally average feelings can still be hurt, despite the thicker skin we've grown from subjecting ourselves to criticism for a living. I'm not scolding you, because you guys are smart and kind, and were not intending to offend anyone. But please-- our jabs at each other are all in good fun, and it does not flatter me in the slightest to see myself ranked against my friend, even when I come out on top. I adore Kristina for the same reasons that you all do, with the added bonus of knowing her non-internet personality. She is a beautiful person and wonderful friend, and I apologize if I don't make my respect for her clear enough.

In other news, some of the black ink stars I was drawing on my skin last night are still visible, so I'm going to go hop awkwardly in the shower, whilst scrubbing at my left foot. Once again, thank you for caring enough to read this blog-- you make me feel like my dream of writing professionally could come true. I'll see you tomorrow!

Chipotle burritos this year: 13
Nail color: "Plum's the Word," Sally Hansen Salon
Subscribers: 26,570

*What kind of school has, like, eight students in a class? And where are these kids' PARENTS? I wonder how many lawsuits were filed against Miss Frizzle after the whole "Let's go inside the redhead" debacle.
**Especially you, Nicole. I've never endured anything in my life that could compare to beating cancer. You are amazing.

The Situation Speaks

FROM THE DESK OF 'THE SITUATION'

"Write my blog for me," Hayley whined. "And hurry up. You have an hour."
You guys should be lucky, for by guest-blogging, I am sparing you from another post of her whining about her weekend. You're not missing anything.

So I'm typing this on my laptop, in between stirring the pasta that I'm making myself on our brand-new, flat-top, "rich people" stove, and telling Hayley to use that pen she's holding to finish her homework, not to draw stars on her foot. She's protesting further: "My homework is to write, like, a fricken' thing about how I FEEL."

I really can't call it a 'rich people' stove anymore, because now my family has one, and we are definitely not rich. I will most likely not ever be rich, or at least not for a long time. That's one of the downsides of being a professional musician, but hey, I knew that going in, so I can't complain about it now.

That was one of the first conversations Hayley and I had at the start of our relationship. The "I write songs, you write words. We're most likely going to be very poor." And everyone is right-- as long as you're happy, it DOESN'T matter. But the real, responsible adult that my parents claim exists inside of me somewhere tells me that you need to have a plan in place for providing for your loved ones. And it wouldn't be fair to possible-future-wife Hayley or possible-future-stinky-covered-in-boogers children to do any less. But let's not put the trailer ahead of the llama, right?

Hayley didn't really give me any directive as to what I should be blogging about tonight. Nor do I share her grammatical finesse, so I hope you'll excuse any obscure violations of Proper Grammatical Syntax ®. Plus, until just now, I've never really had to try to write cohesive paragraphs while listening to Hayley alternate between professing her love for Lady Gaga and asking me questions that begin with things like "Hey Michael? If something...in the universe...exploded, or something, and what we know as day became night..." (EDIT: Now she's progressed to eating an entire container of strawberries.)

On more than one occasion, she has started off a conversation with "I LOVE my blog readers." So it's important for you guys to realize that you do have a real, measurable impact on the quality of her life. Although she whines about having to write, she really does get so much joy out of reading your comments and responses, and she always has stories to say about "One of my readers said...."
SO DON'T SAY ANYTHING BAD ABOUT ME. CAUSE I'LL FIND OUT.

This has really come full-circle, for me, because, when Hayley and I first started talking, I didn't read her blog. I wanted to get to know her through the things that we talked about, and stories she told me. Her blog was her personal space, and I didn't view it as my place to be involved. If she wanted me to know something, she would tell me. I still don't read her blog very often, but for different reasons-- not reading it allows me to sincerely ask, "How was your day?" and not already know the answer. Now you are reading this because I'm writing it and she's going to post it there.

Maybe I should abuse the power, and tell you a bunch of embarrassing stories about Hayley that she would absolutely kill me for divulging. But those are best saved for a video I'm working on with Kristina. Oh no, I fear I have said too much.

We talk a lot about writing, and making videos. Because we both do the same things, only in wildly different ways. When she makes a video, the product is that video, and that's the end result. There's scripts and costume changes and clever writing. When I make a video, I'm trying to share an announcement with my subscribers, or perform a new song that I've written. The video is the vessel for something else. So this is kind of a challenge for me. I'm used to writing songs, in which you get about 16 lines, and that's all the space you get to say whatever you're trying to say. I'm used to picking and choosing words very carefully, both for reasons of conserving "verbal real estate" and sonically-- as in, when writing music, the sound of the words as they leave your mouth is just as important as the meaning of those words. Here, however, both of those considerations do not apply, and so I fear this is mostly a pointless ramble of a blog entry. But that's what she gets for shirking her duties as Professional Blogger Girl to draw ink stars on the soles of her feet.

For reals, y'all, track me down on youtube or twitter if you'd like to chat about Miss Hayley, or ask for relationship advice, or watch all my videos and get really excited about my upcoming album. Just kidding. But seriously. No just kidding. But seriously.

Tomorrow, we return to your regularly scheduled Hayley.
And thank you for making my girlfriend happy.

Chipotle burritos this year: 0
Nail color: Are you kidding?
Subscribers: 5,974

Tell me things!

Since this blog became a capital-T "Thing" last April, I had an idea last night to make today's post a sort of "Previously, in the Hayleylujah Chorus" recap of the year. Then I remembered that this hayleyghoover video exists. My second idea was to create a catalogue of the recurring characters in my life (which friend goes with which name, etc.) and a sort of dictionary for the nicknames and euphemisms I use on a regular basis that might be confusing to new readers. Now, I'm not going to totally discount that idea, but if we're being honest, such a post would have the potential to a) make me feel really self-obsessed and lame for acting like my life is an ongoing soap opera for tipsy housewives, and b) insult those readers who have stuck by me through the good times and the bad, with whom my Hayleyisms are sort of in-jokes. It's not fair to the handful of awesome people who comment once a week, watch fiveawesomegirls, and follow my tweets if I rehash old stories and call it new content. But at the same time, it literally makes me giggle with glee to see that new people are stumbling over here, and I don't want them to feel like this is some exclusive party they were only invited to out of politeness. So how do we deal with this?

Here's what I'm thinking. Would you guys be willing to fill out a tiny survey in the comments of this post, so I can get a better feel of who I'm talking to? For example, I know there are a lot of people who read religiously but never comment (which is totally fine, and something I do all the time), and some people who pop in from time to time, but (QUITE rightfully) do not care to absorb every ounce of angst some stranger cares to spew at them. But... the more I get to know some of you individually, the more deeply I fall in love with the group of you as a whole, and I think this could be an easy way to feel more connected. Anyway, feel free to abstain, but for those interested, it'd be awesome if you filled at least some of this in.

What's your name?:
Where (generally) are you from?:
How old are you?:
How long have you been reading this blog?:
How often do you read it?:
How did you find out about it?:
Do I confuse you with all my friends' names, etc.?:
Harry Potter fan? Nerdfighter? YouTube enthusiast? None of the above?:
Do you blog too? Where?:
List several reasons why I'm cooler than Kristina Horner (NOT REALLY. THIS IS A JOKE.)*:
What's something interesting about you?
What's going on in your life lately?:
Would you be interested in a blog recap/FAQ-type post?:

Thanks, guys! On that note, I think Jess and I have a date for some nacho cheese. I look forward to reading your responses, and I'll see you lovely people tomorrow.

Chipotle burritos this year: 13
Subscribers: 26,467
Nail color: "Plum's the Word," Sally Hansen Salon

*Please, PLEASE do not answer this! Hahaha. Our rivalry is purely fictional and strictly for the lols.

Explosive Car Crash of Doooom!

Seven minutes left of April 2nd! You thought I wouldn't make it, didn't you? You thought I'd given up on BEDA already. Well HA. Ye of little faith. I am here.

Today, I:
--Watched as my sister rammed my mom's SUV directly into the hood of Sebastian's car. Like... RIGHT into it. It was almost a surreal sight. Oh, don't worry-- everyone's fine, my mom's car looks perfect and Sebastian's still runs, but it was still a mildly traumatic experience for my very embarrassed sister. Sebastian assured her that it wasn't a big deal, but she baked him apology cookies and continues to look slightly ashamed whenever I smile at her. Poor girl.
--Got to see my good friends, Graham and Sarah, who moved to New York last year after they got married. We had lunch, caught up, and made nerdy jokes. Such wonderful people. They feel like home, if that makes any sense.
--Had an adventure with Jess involving plastic watering cans, skim milk, and a carton of Oreos, which I will not describe here in any more detail, because it was SO FUN and hilarious that no blog blurb will do it justice. Just try me. Aren't best friends incredible?
--Laughed at PJ, who managed to accidentally dye his hair and half an eyebrow pink. I'm not entirely sure of the details of this event, either, but here's a picture of it, for all of our viewing pleasure:


And on that note, my friends, I've run out of time. I think I have an idea for tomorrow's post, so maybe it'll be a little more, uh... worthwhile. See you tomorrow!

Chipotle burritos this year: 13
Subscribers: 26,440
Nail color: "Plum's the Word," Sally Hansen Salon

P.S. "Blog More Frequently April," Horner? BRING IT.

Premier Avril

Good evening, everyone, and welcome to Blog Every Day in April: 2010. I chose to start this post with only two hours left in the day, because I like to maintain an element of surprise. And because I nearly forgot. But MOSTLY because I wanted to keep you guessing. Anyway, before we begin, a conversation that just occurred in my kitchen:

Mom: "What is this 'iPad'? Is anyone going to buy it?"
My sister, Kelly: "EVERYONE'S going to buy it. It's the hottest new thing. All my techie friends are talking about how fashionable and great it is."
Me: "Um. The iPad is the biggest joke in the entirety of the internet right now."
Kelly: "Shut up, Hayley. You're not an authority on life just because you're from the internet."

From here on out, I'm going to put "Hayley Hoover / Internet" as my return address on envelopes. You doubt me? I'll do it.

Anyway. In school news, I was able to drop that horrid history class (IN PURSUIT OF POWER!), and by some glorious, miraculous twist of fate, I wiggled my way into my first majors-only creative writing class. I'm the only freshman in a small group of upperclassmen, because the classes are so exclusive and intimate. Needless to say, I'm stuck somewhere between exhilarated and anxious about the whole situation. We met in a little library inside the English building, around a crowded table, with our (forgive me) attractive British professor in front. I wore a little sundress and cardigan, which looked quite vibrant among the black sweaters, mustaches and script tattoos typical of Pretentious Writing Majors. I don't know... there's a possibility that I'll humiliate myself at some point, but if the weird-but-intriguing short story I wrote in class is any indicator, I suspect that I'll be able to hold my own among the Noir Bards.

And, in retrograde school news....

This blog took off, more or less, exactly one year ago. Exactly one year ago, I was still suffocating on my own misery in the hellhole halls of my high school. Goodness. I could not be more grateful for the fact that I live in a completely different world now. I'm a happy person, I'm treated well, and I'm constantly faced with opportunities to try new things and receive praise for my hard work. For those of you out there who feel like your middle or high school has some collective vendetta against you, please, try to keep faith. Your comments and messages and emails helped me through the most painful period of my life. I trusted you, and look where I am! So... try to trust me. If you do, I'll promise to keep the feel-goody preaching to a minimum in later blog posts.

And... yeah, that's about all I've got. I apologize for my disjointedness today. Hopefully, I'll get back into the swing of daily blogging over the course of this next week, and I'll be a pro again by the time May rolls around. Until then, though, here's a new hayleyghoover video and today's fiveawesomegirls video to tide you over. See you tomorrow, guys!

Chipotle burritos this year: 13
Subscribers: 26,381
Nail color: "Plum's the Word," Sally Hansen Salon