I have decided, in a fit of late-night restlessness, to bring back the Blogarama. I’ve gone quite some time–over a year, maybe?–without a personal blog, and while I haven’t exactly missed it, I do yearn for a centralized place to store my thoughts and creative ventures. So the Hannahrama is back in blog form. (Remember Alf? He’s back! In Pog form.) I hope you enjoy it.

Today the joy of getting a full-time slot at work was mitigated by the news that my mom has osteoporosis. Moreover, my grandmother has it, and my other grandmother probably did too, which means the likelihood of me eventually having it go up to about a hundred percent as I understand it. Occasionally when I try to lift heavy objects, I get this strange and horrible brittle pain deep in the bones of my arms; I already know I don’t get nearly enough calcium, and I bought supplements a while back to help change that, but I don’t take them regularly.

Suddenly I actually feel compelled to take care of myself, and it sucks. I’m 25–I shouldn’t be worried about what life will be like when I’m 60. But despite my free-spirited attitude in most aspects of my life, deep down, I do care. In fact, I care about what life will be like when my kids are 60. I usually only think about stuff like that late at night when my emotions have no middle ground, and I can’t think about it for too long or it does my head in.

In fact, my internal egg-timer just chimed and now I have to stop thinking about it. Must distract myself! Look, it’s Thom Yorke!

Tonight my friend Mel came over to work on a new song. It’s been a while since we’ve written together; our last band broke up a couple months ago when our bassist passive-aggressively sold his mixing board right after our first show, thus rendering it nigh impossible for us to practice. Mel and I were back to being an acoustic duo, which is probably for the best, but we both took some time off afterward. Anyway, tonight we demoed this song in about two hours, and I’m terribly proud of it. When You’re Out of My Mind