On the run with Hanna: These are a few of my favorite things


Hanna Conrad

In honor of the 50th anniversary of the premier of “The Sound of Music,” I’m going to list my favorite things.
Alphabetical order. See what I’m doing here?

Buzzfeed. I thank this website for helping me write this phenomenal column. I was in need of some inspiration and I found a quote that really spoke to me, “Go ahead and let your dreams punch you in the face.” Oh the feels.

Cheese pizza. But, unfortunately, no one ever lets me order just cheese because it’s “boring” and a “waste.” So I have to continue picking off the pepperonis, resolving to find another cheese lover to share a pizza with.

Dancing. Don’t be surprised if you see me dancing on a Thursday night with my hands up, nodding my head and moving my hips. I’m not talented by anyone’s standards, but it just feels good to cut loose and get footloose sometimes.



Grandmas. They’re so nice.

Hugs and double high-fives. I enjoy a good hug from (most) anyone and a double high-five really lights my fire. If you see me, feel free to give me either or better yet, give me a double high-five into a hug. Now that, is just perfection. Maybe ask for a hug first, though.


Jokes. Seriously, anything to make me laugh is my favorite. Do you ever see me laughing to myself in the Humanities lounge? I’m usually looking up funny stuff to make my day a little brighter.

Kites. It’s spring. Aren’t we supposed to be flying one outside right now? Yesterday was windy enough, eh?


My English Clique. You know who you are. We have a love for lemon beverages, fun times, and English; there’s no better friendship around.

Ninjas. One would be handy to keep around, in case a pirate tries to pillage my house.

Orange juice. Nutritious and delicious.


Quotes. (See above).

Receiving snail mail. My grandma and sister are really good about sending me cards and letters in the mail, and I love it. I think we should resurrect this deed, stop sending each other half-written text messages, and start sending long, wordy, love-filled letters.

Spring and summer. I just want warmer weather. I am so tired of bundling up before stepping outside, my runny nose, and my cold ears. My flip flops and shorts are crying out to me every time I look in my closet, begging me to take them out. I can’t wait to actually enjoy being outdoors, to play yard games and drink beverages with friends. But I can’t count on this happening any time soon; we live in Nebraska, it’s only March and I believe Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow—stupid groundhog.

Tuesday nights with the Stater staff. On the fourth floor we have a great time, so great that we often continue on together to a different location after the paper is finished. I’m going to miss working with this group.



Waking up in the middle of the night, thinking I have to get ready, but then realizing I still have three hours to continue sleeping. There’s something about waking up at 3 a.m., thinking I’m going to be late for class, but then getting to bunker down under my covers for at least four more hours.


“Yayo” by Lana del Rey.

Zsa zsa zsu. I have to accredit Carrie Bradshaw for this.

These are just a few of my favorite things. I think about these when I’m sad, when I have nothing to write about, when a bee stings, and when I’m introducing myself.

Please forgive this nonsensical column, I was desperate. I’m just trying to live life with “No Ragrets.”