the Dark Knight (or, Why I Want to Marry a Superhero But Not Take Our Children To Their Dad's Movies)

I watched the Dark Knight this afternoon. Happy! Whenever I see an action movie, the inevitable result is that I want to break down the door of the theatre and start spraying the lobby with machine gun fire. When I see a superhero movie, the inevitable result is that I want the superhero for my birthday. (Except I don't think I'd want the Incredible Hulk. But I haven't seen that, so it doesn't count.)

I bet you were expecting a movie review. HA! You're in for a surprise, suckers.

Wouldn't it be amazing to marry, or at least date, a superhero? (Sorry to all the guys reading this ... this is quite a girly post. Oh well - I'm prone to it sooner or later.) Think about it. How awesome would it be to be swooping through the sky with your favorite superhero (Batman, Spiderman, and Superman are all equal to the task)? Or speeding in and out of traffic on Batman on his Bat-bike? And who can resist how super-sexy Batman's deep voice is? Or how cute and nerdy Spiderman is? Or how all-around amazing Superman is? Don't you want them to be your man? I want 'em for my birfday.

But this lovely train of thought was somewhat (albeit, only briefly) spoiled during this afternoon's viewing. Alternately, I spent my time mad at an incompetent mother. While this is pretty harsh wording, you'll see why. A woman in our row had brought her three young boys. While yes, they're boys, and therefore apt to like action movies, the youngest couldn't have been older than six.

And yet, there he sat, and watched the Joker elaborately describe his brutal scars, watched mucho vehicles blow up, watched people fight with weapons and in hand to hand combat and face moral dilemmas. Not to mention someone's nasty face [I give out no spoilers]. I will admit, his mom did take him out after one especially gruesome scene (for a six-year-old), but then she brought him back! And he sat huddled there on her lap, whimpering. We could hear him whimpering! It's a PG-13 movie for crying out loud! Did you really think your little boy could handle it??


I liked it.
Although, according to the previews, the end is near.

dreams

PREPARE TO BE MYSTICIZED AS HANNAH THE FANTASTIC HEARS YOUR DREAMS AND READS YOUR FUTURE!

(Just kidding. While that may have been your first thought upon reading this post's title (it sure was my first thought), that's not the kind of dream I'm talking about.)


I hate these dreams that take over my world.

And, like I said, I'm not talking about the at-night dream. I'm talking about the thought-hope-plan-wish type of dream. In my case, the all-consuming kind. This one's been raging around in my head since Friday, and it won't stop.

You see, after visiting the most amazing bookstore ever (Well, most amazing used bookstore. Most amazing bookstore overall goes to Hodges Figgis - 4 storeys of ultimate bliss in Dublin.) and --according to Rachael Cox-- an "ambience-laden" coffee shop, I was inspired to open my own coffee/smoothie and used book shop. With local music and art. In a college town.

But then this stupid idea wouldn't leave my head. I even told this stupid idea how stupid it was. How I knew nothing about business, or coffee for that matter, how it would be quite fiscally irresponsible (etc., etc., ad nauseam). But still it lingered.

Yesterday mom and I went to The Colony Resale, where a good portion of my time was spent looking at furniture. I dragged mom away from her bargain-finding and exclaimed to her, "For my coffee shop, I mean, that is, if that ever were to happen, I would get this wooden & forest green table and chairs set. 4 chairs and a table for $59.99, and they look so cool! Oh and then these bar stools are only $2.49, and look at this ridiculous table ... er ... desk thing! That would have to be in my coffee shop, just because it's so eclectic." (that table really was ridiculous. It was painted ........ like some of these kind of colors (see ridiculous color inset) and ... it was just quite unusual.)

And then on the way home I kept talking about this stupid coffee shop, and how I would need a business partner who actually knew something about coffee and money ... and I would take care of the smoothies and books. It didn't help that when I got home and was talking to Sarah on IM and (half-jokingly, half in serious) asked her if she wanted to open up a coffee/used book shop, she said sure, and that her roommate was a business major and loved coffee. GRR!

Last night I had finally gotten in bed, put my computer to bed, and then promptly could not fall asleep. So I started thinking of names for my non-existent coffee shop. I then had the brilliant idea of looking up coffee shop names on the internet. I sat up, put on my glasses, and then stared at my compy. He was sitting there on my nightstand. Turned off. I seriously stared at my computer in the dark for a full minute or so.

I decided not to turn on the poor compy, so I tried to fall asleep again. It was really late, so I don't know why I was having problems. I ended up in the living room leafing through our huge dictionary, brainstorming by myself at 2:30 in the morning.

I came up with a few interesting names, by the way. Or at least, interesting trains of thought. For some reason, they were all on a musical kind of theme. Sonata (imagine "Books and Coffee" or "Coffee and Books" appended to each of these) and Sonatina both sounded too frilly. Mazurka sounds cool, but the dictionary told me it was a Polish dance. MezzoForte was a nice thought, but it doesn't have the best initials. The best was Fermata, the musical element that causes a note to be sustained longer than usual, with the idea of lingering at a coffee shop involved. [Looking through the dictionary also caused me to think of several other cool names, but they sounded like nightclubs or raves or something. Oh well. Let me know if you're opening one of those and you need name ideas.]

But ... why is this currently on my mind? All the time? I really don't know what to do with it. Dismiss it completely? Jump in headfirst? Or just think about it and how amazing it would be, which is what I am currently doing.

of coffee shops and used books and air-headed teenagers

Well, today was lovely. Mom and I were planning on taking public transportation to the Kimbell Art Museum in Fort Worth, but we realized that north Texas is not Europe, and public transport has a ways to go. A long ways, in fact, for us - 3 hours one way, to be precise. Time for Plan B. We figured out expenses, gave ourselves a budget, and drove out to Denton.

We first hit up Recycled Books, Records, and CD's on the square in Denton. Wow. I hadn't been there before, and now I'm wondering why not. Three storeys of used books, and lots of them smell good. How did I stay away?

I went there with a bit of an idea in my head. I had just remembered a book from my childhood and wondered if I could find it. (Let's see if it rings a bell with any of you...) This is how my vague memory recalls snatches of it: A princess in disguise gets a job as a cook in a castle, puts random gold trinkets in the prince's soup, she wears a cloak of many different furs, and has silvery dresses in walnut shells, and eventually marries the prince. Yeah, not much to go on. Well, it turns out that I read the children-ized version of what is an incestuous Grimm's fairy tale. The prince was actually the princess's father, a king whose wife had died and needed to marry someone as beautiful as she, and the only one is their daughter ...... Yeah. It's known by various names - "The Princess in Disguise", "All-Kinds-of-Fur", "Allerleirauh", and "Many Furs". I'd like to find that childrenized storybook version; it was one of my favourite books as a kid. (not to mention, not as creepy)

While perusing the fiction section, I couldn't help overhearing and partially recording this quite amusing conversation. (Yes, I actually got out my notebook and jotted some notes down. While laughing at these people. Don't worry, they were a completely different row so they didn't even see me or acknowledge my existence.)

A trendy, cuter than me, and unfortunately airheaded high schooler walked past me with her boyfriend/brother/cousin/I don't know. Man friend. His name was Brad.
Airhead Girl: You know, I'm one of those people who actually reads books, and gets A's in school, not like some of my other friends.
Brad: (mumbling)
Airhead (looking for a particular book): You know, I keep taking these pregnancy tests, even though they always come back negative, because I'm so scared that I'm actually pregnant!
Brad: How long have you been taking the tests?
Airhead: I don't know, I've taken like, three, in, like, the past couple months or something?
Brad: You would know by now.
Airhead: Whatever! I'm just scared.
Brad: No, seriously, you would know by now.
Airhead (giggling emptily): Oh my gosh that totally reminds me of my friend So and So and me! We were both scared we were pregnant, so we went and got pregnancy tests from CVS, and then went to Taco Bell and took the tests in the bathroom!
Brad: Do you realize how ghetto that is?
Airhead: Shut up!! That's not ghetto!
Brad: Yes it is! Taking pregnancy tests in the bathroom of Taco Bell?! That's ghetto.
Airhead: Okay, whatever ... well, maybe it is, but we're not ghetto! See, we couldn't take it at home 'cause then our parents would find out and get mad at us! (starts looking for the book again) Oh ... wait ... S comes before T, right? (sigh) Oh, forget it Brad, I'm never gonna find this book. I'll just get it at the library.

As they walked away, I laughed, or in honor of Airhead Girl, giggled.

I then went and found mom, which was surprisingly easy to do so, considering the size of the place. After browsing some more, we checked out, mom with some Brennan Manning and Bach, I with the following:

• Four Great Plays by Chekhov (including The Cherry Orchard and Uncle Vanya!), 1958 edition
• When We Were Very Young by A.A. Milne, 1951 edition
• C.S. Lewis' Silver Chair, my all-time favourite edition (on the right), 1970 edition
• bookmarks
• bumper sticker for my guitar case
• entering into a drawing for a $75 gift certificate (oh man...the damage I could do...)

After this, we moved the car (rot about 2 hour parking and all that) and then dropped in a lovely coffee shop. Jupiter House = Awesomeness. I got an Electric Orange Cranberry smoothie, mom a Mango Green Tea, and we split a scrumptiously fantastic cinnamon roll.

Then I got to thinking ... how awesome would it be to own a coffee/smoothie shop, coupled with a used book store? Mom and I started dreaming ... that would be amazing. Then, as I sipped my amazing smoothie, and as mom got a brain freeze from hers, I (as I am wont to do) thought of all the pesky details that would be involved - capital, how I don't know anything about coffee, how I would never make any money ... so then I thought to myself ... Oh Nevermind. (I'm great at shooting down my own dreams.)

But I mean ... wouldn't that be so much fun? And then doing more like displaying local artists' work, having live music ... a community hub. I think it would thrive in a college town. Probably not Upland, though. (and why would I want to compete with Payne's??)

Anyway ... it was a lovely day.


Also, on a completely different note, all women everywhere should always be required to wear a bra at all times. The end.

stream of consciousness

In 11th grade, my English teacher assigned a stream of consciousness essay. Basically, she told us all to sit down for a half hour or so and just write down what we were thinking, hearing, feeling, smelling, and so on. I just happened to find mine, and it amused me quite a bit. Most of it was questions I had, and some parts were actually intriguing and thought provoking. Instead of keeping this tidbit to myself, I have decided that here, for your reading (and thinking / hearing / feeling / smelling) pleasure, is a snippet of Hannah Chupp, 2 1/2 years ago. [and yes, I wrote it during another class. ha.]

Stream of Consciousness: Chemistry Class, April 12, 2006, 2:00-2:25 p.m.

There will be a paper coming out of my head, says Sarah. This room is so hot! Why won't the air turn on? I had no idea he took chemistry yesterday. Never mind. The table is messed up. Sarah sounds like a squirrel and Jessica says she's hyperventilating. What would be the eventual result of continual hyperventilation? I wonder if the rate of hyperventilation would change with change in temperature. Or atmospheric pressure. Or if there would be any kind of equilibrium between the air in our body and the air outside.

Can there ever be complete trust? Even if we have no logical reason not to trust someone, will we develop trust issues for no reasons? Praise the Lord for lack of essay. A chem essay on the final would be disgusting. Who decides the meanings of words? And how do they change through the years? Who decides? How did we delegate that authority and why? We talk about lost freedoms to the government, but what about lost freedoms to the general public? Every decision someone makes is a freedom lost to someone else.

What is sound? Seriously. And why did God create things we'll never see or hear? For his own pleasure? Anything he created on a worldly scale will never compare to what Heaven is like, so it's obviously not for his benefit. But then comes the question, are other galaxies fallen? When sin came into the world, did it also go to, say, the moon, or Jupiter? They're obviously not perfect, not what is the best possible result, but how did sin get there?

How do people get popular? What is the definition of popular, meaning, is popular inclusive of everything (all people like you), or can you be "popular" and still a geek? Am I a geek? Do people hate me? I wonder. They haven't told me yet, at least. What if everyone I thought was a close friend was really plotting to kill me when I turned 45? Don't worry, I'm not that paranoid. It's just an odd thought. But what if, in my doubt of paranoia, I was really paranoid? Of being paranoid? What if what I thought was not really thought, meaning that my brain was tricking me into thinking what weren't really my thoughts.

Wow, this is a lot deeper than I thought it was going to be. If I go into anymore, I will probably get you and myself depressed, and scare us both. Therefore, I have ended. No I haven't, this assignment has. No it hasn't, it's still continuing. So it will end. But then it's always in the future, so will it really ever end?

to all those who (don't) read this - A Question.

Any inventive uses for a single earring?

As far as post earrings go, I don't mind wearing just one (pretending I only have one second piercing), but what about the dangly type?

Google has proved sadly unresourceful in this area.

I wouldst appreciate thine help.

I am tired ...

I am tired of strife, of dissension,of disagreement and argument.

I am tired of hypocrisy, of double-meanings, of the two faces you rotate between.

I want reality.

I want you to strive for harmony.

I want to always think the best.

I am tired ...

... I long for peace.

sympathies and prayers

Today at work a kid (okay, he was about my age, a bit younger perhaps, maybe 17?) asked to use the phone. I forget his name, but he said, "My phone just died, and I need to call my friend to pick me up." So then I went about my business, helping other customers and pretending not to listen.

"Hey Emily? It's [Kid's Name Here]. Yeah, my phone died, and I need to call Lance. He was supposed to pick me up, like, an hour ago. ... I'm at a Christian bookstore. .... He's getting math tutoring right now. ... Yeah, that's what I was wondering. ... Don't worry, I'm gonna be at youth tonight. Yeah. ... Could you give me his number? ... Mmk... Thanks."

[Call to Lance] "Hey Lance, man, I'm still at ... ... Dude, are you serious? ... Where are you? ... I mean, what happened? ... Is everyone okay? ... Alright then, I guess I'll see you. ... Bye."

As I overheard this one-sided conversation (am I less suspicious if I say I'm an undercover reporter?) I immediately knew what was happened. Then this poor kid who was stranded at Mardel and whose name I have completely forgotten confirmed my suspicions - Lance had been in a wreck.

So Lance, if you ever by some odd chance read this, know that on the afternoon of July 9, 2008, I was praying for you. I was in a crash last December. It was my fault, and it was horrifying. I honestly thought I was going to die (then I started thinking about how this would screw up my parents' auto insurance). God's good, though, Lance, and my accident showed me very specific intricacies of his goodness. I'm praying you see them too.