I’m a good kid. I’ve always been a good kid. I did try alcohol and weed once, but I was kind of forced into both. It’s not my scene.

I don’t like underage drinking. I hate people that party and then let the partiers drive themselves home. I can’t comprehend the “party scene” type of people, and I don’t really understand clubs.

Maybe I’m just naive. Maybe I’m actually conservative and I never realized it until now.

I know for sure, however, that none of this stops me from having a good time. I don’t need alcohol to laugh, I have friends that do that for me.

If I need a “high” to keep me going, I start cleaning or do something that makes me happy like drawing or writing.

I was telling one of my friends in the cast of Chicago with me last night about this, and she said, “You know, good for you. Seriously. I wish more people thought like you.”

I quickly discovered that I’m not the only one in the world that is like this, even though a lot of people just assume the majority parties.

My addiction? Adrenaline.

I feed off of the adrenaline I get playing video games, or performing, or even just learning and doing choreography. I love memorizing lines and stressing myself out. Perhaps that makes me a masochist, but I enjoy all of this because, at the end of the day, I’ve accomplished something great.

Some times I end up in the fetal position crying myself to sleep thinking about everything I have to do in the morning, but, usually, I’m smiling to myself going, “I can’t believe I got all that done.”

I’ve tried living my life simply. When I was with my ex, I didn’t do anything for a long time but hang out with him (aka watch TV and movies, and him play video games). Looking back at those times, I had fun, but I was bored out of my mind. I was more depressed then than any other time in my life, aside from when my father left.

When I was watching Bethenney Getting Married? on Bravo, Bethenney said something like, “I never thought it was possible to have everything I’ve ever wanted, but then I got it all at once.” I wonder if my life is like that–the first part of the sentence, I mean. Being straightlaced makes some things difficult.

The search for a boyfriend and even friends can be difficult when so many around me love to party. I just can’t do it. I tried to be a partier when my ex and I were together, but it wasn’t me. I’ll forever be a nerd, and I’m now damn proud of that. If I can simply find a guy that accepts me for all the weird things I love and am, I’ll have found my perfect match.

But, in the last year, every time I thought I found one, he turned out to be heavily into drugs or alcohol, and simply hid it from me. It really stinks that this has to be such a major part of my life in a way, but I’m glad that I’m as much of a “goody two shoes” as I am.

In the last few months, I learned that partying all the time was something I could avoid in all types of relationships. I can, in fact, just be myself. I met the most amazing group of people through theatre/improv at my campus that are just like me. Some times, they do casually drink, but they’re over 21 and they only have a beer or a glass of wine. My only wish is that I had found these people sooner.

They’ve made me feel like such a cool person for exactly who I am. They love that I attend anime cons in cosplay, that my drink of choice is Code Red, and that I’m majoring in Computer Technology because my favorite thing outside of theatre is technology. The best part? They accept all my eccentricities and flaws with hugs and smiles. When I trip over absolutely nothing, they tell me I’m cute. When I don’t know the meaning of something like a drug, they laugh and explain it to me. They don’t make fun of me. They actually like me.

In my 20 years of existence, this is kind of a first. Friends that don’t like drinking. Friends that like me. My hope is that these people never leave my life and that we can find more epically amazing people to add to our tight knit “family.”

Be who you are, not who others want you to be.

The last year, I learned what I would consider to be a lot more important than people think. Holding hands isn’t just for couples at all.

When my very best friend in the world, Heather, came to visit in July last year, my beloved cat, Buttercup, had to be put down. She was with us when we had to rush him to the emergency vet. She stayed by my side for hours while we sat there wondering what would be happening to my cat. But before that, we had the 40 minute drive to make. It was torture. Would he even sustain life long enough to make it to the vet? I just remember watching his chest rise and fall and being so terrified and nervous. I had my hand on his carrier and Heather reached and grabbed mine. She held my hand most of that night. She hugged me, she gave me calming words and I can’t begin to describe the feeling of someone holding your hand to comfort you. It’s about a million times better than anything but being held by a boy you’re in love with, as experience has shown me.

The list of people that have held my hand is short. But today, two more were added to that list.

As I’ve mentioned, I was doing an absolutely amazing show called Tartuffe. I love Tartuffe so much and it is definitely the best show I have ever done. I can’t even tell you what our weak link was. We didn’t have one. We were a strong ensemble, strong individually, strong artistically, strong in every way, and friendship was the key to all of that.

Today was our final performance and I had been thinking and thinking about how I would react to everyone leaving and what I would say to each person. I kept thinking, “It’ll be fine! You’ll still see everyone around campus.”

Our beloved and amazing director gave us a speech before warm ups, as did the guy who portrayed my character’s father, Orgon. During those two speeches, I became very emotional. So much so that I put my hand on the girl who played my step-mother, Elmire’s, leg. The women in this cast became a family. Elmire had become a best friend to me and a mother figure in a way. She put her hand down and silently comforted me while tears fell. Eventually, I grabbed the hand of the girl that played my grandmother, Madame, and I noticed that all of the girls were holding hands in the front row together. It made us stronger and able to do the show with the comedy and intensity we’ve delivered this whole run.

But it did have to come to a close. We tore the set down, ate dinner together, talked, bonded and people trickled out. My closest friends remained, but I broke down when one of those friends had to leave with her husband. She and I had bonded the most from the start. She played the character Dorine, a character I react the most with in the show, and she and I were always there supporting each other and attacking each other with love. She’s got the most beautiful heart.

She needed to leave so she went around saying goodbyes. I was the first one and, when she hugged me, the last thing I wanted to do was let go. I wanted to hold on. I didn’t want to lose her presence in my life. I sobbed. I totally sobbed. Before I knew it, I found myself being tightly hugged by Elmire. She is such a wonderful soul, and an old soul. She was saying things like, “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’ll still have me around in the next show. It’ll be fine, honey.” She spoke like I know my mother would have, had she been there.

Thankfully, the guy who played my love interest, Valere, who is also a dear friend of mine for many years took it upon himself to make me laugh. I was being tossed around in the air like an ice skater.

There’s a certain power to holding hands. You don’t have to date someone to hold their hand. You do have to care for them. It’s truly amazing as to how much a simple motion like that can help a person.

Thank you for holding my hand and being there for me, those that have. Thank you.

I never really noticed this until today, but, up until right now, I haven’t gone out and made new friends in quite a few years. I am incredibly socially awkward in a lot of cases. I’m not the typical 19-year-old. I’m far from a typical college student.

I’m fairly against underage drinking. I’m not a fan of going out and getting high all the time. I will never pick up a cigarette and I worry about those that do. Granted, I would never EVER judge someone that does do those, as long as they are being careful and safe. I don’t understand people that go out drinking all the time. I don’t understand people that feel the need to go out all night dancing at a club popping pills and drinking. Some readers may be thinking, “Do you even know someone that does any of this?” I do. My ex boyfriend was absolutely that type of person. If he had been able, I know he would have done everything I mentioned. I know many, many others that do currently do all of that.

I get uncomfortable when people are drinking around me. The last year, I went back to my old self. I went back to being innocent, proudly, and damn fucking proud of the good person I am. When I was with my ex, I drastically changed. He opened me up, but not by my own choice. I realize that now.

But in the process of all of this, I realized how damn hard it is to make friends. I don’t take classes at my actual school if I can help it. I stay away from places where people my age hang out. I do theatre because, more than often, people are smart and dedicated to what they do. I do know theatre people that go drinking, but I tend to avoid them. They are the people that make me really fucking shy and nervous.

In the last week, I made three really amazing friends. Over anything, they are just absolutely amazing people. They’re really smart. They’re really funny. They’re really kind. More than anything, they’re loving and supportive. It makes me happy to have them around. Actually, no, it makes me PROUD to call them my friends.

It’s hard. It’s really hard to make friends.

Overall, it’s crazy hard for me to open myself to new friends. I’ve never had the friends that were like, “Hey, wanna go to Subway with us?” Or, “Hey, come sit by me!” I’m always the one trying to do that. And I’m the one that’s always looked at like, “Nah, I’d rather chill here. I’m good.” These three people are so positive. They’re happy. And one of them is Jewish. This is worth mentioning because I’m looking to converting to Judaism and she’s been more than helpful to me. I really adore her more than anyone around the theatre.

She’s the one that invited me to go to lunch on our break at rehearsal for subUrbia today. Then, after, she and her other friend, who’s my mutual friend, invited me to go out again after. She’s always looking out for me, helping me, making me smile and making me feel so loved. The thing that made me most happy was when she gave me a nickname.

At improv last week, she and our mutual friend gave each other nicknames and she was “Lisa, the other girl’s lesbian bitch.” Mutual friend didn’t have a nickname, though she was the head bitch, and, today, my Jewish friend gave us both nicknames. I’m Velma and other girl is Brooke. XD It makes me smile, in all honesty. It was fun, funny and made us closer. We’re kind of a trio at rehearsal now. If anything, she and I are definitely a duo. We call each other, “New Best Friend.”

Gah. It’s just weird to have attention from someone. I feel like a wonderful person, thanks to her.

When I was younger, I was ridiculously shy. Granted, I’m still fairly shy, but I was so shy that hardly anyone I knew even knew who I actually was.

I quickly grew up with this habit of picking up whatever my friend’s loved and running with it, even if I didn’t like it. I wanted to please them and I wanted them to like me.

I wanted to be cool.

I grew older and continued to hide who I was from my friends. My best friend from elementary school through half of middle school didn’t even know who I was. She had no clue that I was madly in love with playing Barbies. I loved that with all my heart and soul. The only friend that knew me for who I was was another girl that was shy like me. I think we connected because of that.

Looking back, the only person I ever had imaginary tea parties with, aside from my brother and parents, was her. She was a wonderful girl, and was the my only real friend for quite a few years.

In late middle school, I became friends with this one girl, and I immediately changed for her. I wanted to be her friend. She was crazy smart–well liked. I wasn’t. I did everything she did. I dressed like her. I wore my hair like her. I did everything I could to be her friend, and she went to high school.

I had her in the back of my mind that next year without her and, as soon as I went to high school, I gravitated to her and to my old habit. I had friends that knew me for who I was at this point, but I still felt that I needed to be her friend to be cool. I had to change. I couldn’t be myself; that wasn’t good enough.

Pretty recently, that girl left my life, seemingly, forever. She still tries to pop in from time to time. I think she thinks she can still control me. But what she doesn’t know is that she’s the only person that I have tried to change for since middle school. In 8th grade (my last year of middle school), I became best friends with the girls I’m close friends with now. They love me for who I am–flaws and all! (And I’m quite flawed.)

I’ve grown to see that changing only made me depressed and frustrated. When I go to rehearsal for Tartuffe (my current show), I know they all know me as me and I get to let loose. This past month, I’ve had little time to escape the confines of my house, work and school, which are places I don’t get to let loose. Down time at rehearsal was my chance to take a deep breath and relax.

The last rehearsal, I entered the one hallway in my practice petticoats, character shoes (dancing heels, basically) with a cookie halfway in my mouth and plopped on the ground in front of my fellow cast mates like a little kid, and they love me for that. They love that I’m myself. I love to be “small” and “childlike.” I’m still a very mature individual, but I like being like a kid. I look so young and I feel so young, that it has always suited me, and it’s what I love doing.

Being cool isn’t being what others want you to be. Being cool is always being yourself.

I’ve learned a lot about impressions this last year. The most obvious example to anyone that knows me is my ex. I started off, when we first met, intimidated by him and wanting to stay away due to rumors. Granted, rumors are never something anyone should believe, but I was really young and immature, so I let them get to me.

I got to know him online of all places, we hung out more at school and at my house, and, before I knew it, we were together for almost two years. We had a perfect relationship, still, in my eyes and in the eyes of those closest to us. Apparently, it wasn’t in his. He cheated on me, I didn’t believe it to be true, fell for his lies, let it go and, in the end, he turned out to be a complete jerk to me. I don’t want to say he’s a bad person because I don’t think that he is. I think his heart was somewhere else, and he couldn’t admit that to me or any of us, so he needed an escape, and he, I’m sure, is very happy now. I, at least, hope that he’s very happy.

I don’t want this entry to be about stories of people because that’s just kind of awkward. XD

But impressions…

I’ve tried hard the past few years now to not let first impressions get to me. I give people the benefit of the doubt. A lot of people tell me that this is a bad thing, but I don’t believe that. I want to have an open mind and keep my mind as open as I can muster.

I can’t stand it when someone starts a rumor, people and friends of theirs follow that rumor and the person the rumor is about ends up alone and completely shunned. I’ve seen this too many times both online and offline, and I’ve been the victim of it. Most everyone I’m friends with has dealt with this in some way, and that’s just a terrible thing.

Rumors are crap. That’s another thing I avoid. I can’t stand rumors. If I find a rumor spreading, I do everything I can to stop it, or correct it, or anything I can do. It just makes me so frustrated!

Why do people find the need to spread them? Why create them?
My mom has always told me that a big reason is usually jealousy.

Now, I have to be honest, I have never understood why anyone would be jealous of me. I’m not that smart. I have a great work ethic, but that’s it. I’m honest, yes, but I don’t have a lot of money. I’m not the greatest artist, nor do I have that ideal perfect life.

I haven’t talked to my father (VERY happily) for years now, my brother and I are touch and go, though I love him to pieces, I’m very single, and my best friends don’t live nearby. I do understand why people would be jealous of the strength I have in my voice. That’s something…I luckily ended up with. If you heard my parents’ and brother’s voices, you’d see it’s all genetic. It has to be. But I don’t gloat about it ever. I actually try to hide it when I can. I don’t want to obnoxiously stand out.

And some times, people take my vocal strength and think that I’m a cocky little jerk. o_O I actually made a friend back in August and she flat out told me, “Hannah, I thought you were a bitch. I’m glad you proved my impressions wrong.” I asked her what led her to think that, “Well, you’re really quiet, always seem to be thinking and are loud when singing and stuff. It seemed like you were really stuck up.” I never knew that being quiet made me seem cocky, but I was being quiet so people wouldn’t take me for someone who is really into themselves.

I have just as much confidence as the majority of the world. Aka…not much. XD I’m okay with that, though. I have a lot of confidence in some things, but I don’t let that out.

I guess this entry is in hopes of others realizing that impressions aren’t anything. Opening your heart even just a little to people can make you find the beauty in those you might not have seen before.

If I spent my life so far with my heart closed, I wouldn’t have the friends I have now, and I have the best friends in the world.