Crying at the Movies

On Thursday July 14, I went over to a friend's house for her birthday party. And it was an enormous nostalgia fest for the eight of us there, because five of them were going to the midnight premiere of the eighth Harry Potter movie.

(I, unfortunately, was the slag who didn't reserve her tickets on time, and would be going to see it at four P.M. the next day instead. I am dumb. The other two didn't like Harry Potter. I'm not quite sure what they were doing there. They must have felt very out of place.)

Quite a few of us had grown up with the series, and for the three hours before they left we were talking about our hopes for the movie, how great it would be, how everything was ending, but really nothing was. As one of my friends said, it wasn't like our books were going to disappear overnight. And we would always have our experiences, all the memories tied to years and years of reading this amazing series, and talking to friends about this amazing series, and making other people discover this bloody amazing series. All the fake wand duels, all the dressing up as Hermione Granger/Harry Potter/Ron Weasley for Halloween, all the waiting, waiting, waiting for the next book or movie or announcement was not going to be erased from our memories because there weren't going to be any new movies or books.
They left for the midnight premiere at 10:30, and I was picked up and taken home with a heavy heart. Talking to my friends, most of whom had been similarly affected by the Harry Potter series, made it hit me--hard--that this basically looked like the end of my life. And I'd better damn well appreciate that now, while I still can.
The next day took forever, because I was waiting until four o'clock and torturing myself with Tumblr, which was Potter-saturated. We got to the theater at three o'clock, waited in a line that was already enormous and made me panic that we would end up in the first row, looking up at the movie screen like it was the top of the Sears Tower. (But we didn't, thank the gods.)
I had puffed myself up before, thinking that I was emotionally prepared for this movie. I'd read the books! I knew what was going to happen! I was prepared for the fact that every minute that passed by was my childhood being wrenched away from me! I was totally prepared, yeah?
God, no, I wasn't.
I cried:

1. When the Death Eaters burned the Quidditch pitch, and I remembered Harry as an untroubled first year playing for the first time on that pitch, and my eyes welled up before I could help it.
2. From when Snape died to the end.

Most people kept drinks in their cupholders. I kept tissues.

And then the Hogwarts Express sped away at the end of the film, it felt so final. That's it. It's only lucky for this generation that we were here to see it.

Quote for Monday, July 18, 2011:

"If writers wrote as carelessly as some people talk, then adhasdh asdglaseuyt[bn[ pasdlgkhasdfasdf." 

— Lemony Snicket (Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can't Avoid)

Muse for Today:

I saw a GIF of Jo Rowling saying this on Tumblr, but I can't find it now, but I was emotionally vulnerable the other day and it made me cry.
“Whether you come back by page or by the big screen, Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home.”

Also, in less important news that I feel like I have to share anyway: It is my blog's birthday today. It is two years old.

Heavy Heaviness is Heavy

I should really just make "Things I Don't Like" a thing (is it already a thing? What constitutes something being a thing?) because the main reasons that I got on Blogger were because of TWO things I don't like:

1. School
2. Adults--specifically, adults who talk about you when YOU'RE RIGHT BLOODY THERE. Thank you, Mother, but I have a rudimentary enough understanding of Hindi to know that you're talking about me. Honestly. Exactly how stupid am I supposed to be?

I have heavy things on my mind, not in the literal sense (heh) but yesterday was weird and dense enough, and now that I seem to be out of my rut of bad blogging (although, depending on your opinion, I might have always been a bad blogger and my rut might just be permanent), let's talk about lighter things.

Like the future.

Because that's not heavy at all.

When you're me, that is pretty heavy (why have I used the word 'heavy' so many times? Am I from the eighties? What is going on?), especially when you've no blooming idea what you want to be. See, I have a vague idea, but the...practicality...is not entirely there. I don't much want to think about what I'm going to be, because I am trying to get through my life now, and that seems hard enough. Sometimes now is enough to deal with.

But things that are not so heavy (since I am going with that word now) or actually may be heavy but pique my interest:

• People who make drawings for me, especially when they surpass what little skill I possess
• People who defy my expectations
• The Dexter Morgan Series. I looked on Wikipedia, and the last book in the series (Dexter is Delicious) has influences of cannibalism. CANNIBALISM? Dear Jeff Lindsay, Dexter's ALREADY a supernatural crazy serial killer! HOW MUCH FURTHER DO YOU NEED TO GO? Even though I am now scared to proceed any further with this series, and I am myself a vegetarian, I am wondering how an author even begins to work something as tabooed and unconventional as cannibalism into a book. *shudders* Looks like I'll continue these. *gingerly picks up Darkly Dreaming Dexter*
• That 'How Stuff Works' has a page on sarcasm, and it's not sarcastic. It's genuine, and pretty interesting.
• All-American Rejects. It's funny how I can listen to 'Move Along' after four years of running to it and still like the song. Also, in the Performance Version of 'Gives You Hell' (I like it better than the Narrative Version), Tyson looks crazy and/or drunk, and either he can't dance/he is Jack Sparrow/he was drunk. Hmm?
• S'mores. I'm having some over AN ACTUAL FIREPIT later tonight, and that will be the first time I've ever done that!
• Charlie McDonnell. Still amazing. I've been watching his vlogs for almost a year!
• David Tennant, because he is still the best Doctor in the entire world, even though some people *coughs at someone who is not reading this* think Matt Smith is better.

Quote for Saturday, May 28, 2011:

"Good evening. Tonight on 'Is There' we examine the question, 'Is there a life after death?' And here to discuss it are three dead people."

-(http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Monty_Python%27s_Flying_Circus#E._Henry_

Thripshaw.27s_Disease_.5B3.10.5D)

Muse for a Day:

"How about 'Hello, sweetie!'? You should put that as your quote."

"No, that's dumb. I hate River Song, and I hate everything she says, and I hate that quote. And not everyone will understand it, anyway."

"But it's good! Please!"

"Shut up. You get your own blog, and then you can have a Quote of the Day, and you can put that rubbish quote. And even then, you would have gotten the idea from me."

"I'll get a blog. But I won't have a Quote of the Day! I'll have a Quote of the Week! I might even have a Quote...of All Quotes!"

*long pause*

"What are you even saying? Idiot."

"Even then, Marshmallow People will still come first."

"Idiot."

Books, Barnes and Noble and Me

Hello. I know it's been a while.

In Which I Complain and Exhibit Several Reasons Why I Need Therapy

I am a very easily anxious person. I worry about everything, and recently my worrying has hit a fever pitch because I am starting at a brand new school, and I am disgustingly scared.

I am finding ridiculous things to worry about.

It's getting out of hand. Really out of hand.

Have you ever felt so worried you can't breathe? Is this not normal?

And here. The world has handed me something else to fret unreasonably about.

Barnes and Noble is going up for sale and possibly out of business. Read the article here. Or HERE. They're both the same, click on your favorite one.

I learned this during my latest trawling through Yahoo! and I was somewhat worried.

Like most bookworms who live in the U.S., I have frequented B&N many times, and while I have a nice indie bookstore quite close, Barnes and Noble is a lot better organized and I go there when I'm looking for something specific, like a book for school or something. (The independent bookstore is good for serendipity.)

The article said that physical copies of products, like books and CDs, are slowly dying out because people opt for the digital version instead.

I often buy digital CDs, because most of the music I like is from YouTube musicians, and I don't see the sense in paying extra for shipping when I can buy the digital copy.

But books!

I grew up with books as closer friends than almost anybody else I knew. I had a fair smattering of friends (Am I lying? You decide!) but they paled in comparison to Junie B. Jones; Anne Shirley; the Bailey School Kids (Howie, Eddie, Melody and Liza); and Charlie Bucket. (I was really trying not to put anything Harry Potter related in there, because it seems like everything I put on this here blog has at least one HP plug.)

The actual feeling of holding the book in your hand, really turning the pages, losing the book because you left it at the kitchen table- these are some things that even the iPad (in all its fairly deserved glory) cannot replicate.

It's sad that a whole generation of kids is not going to be able to experience that. Someday in the future, people will be keeping paper books in museums like we keep hieroglyphics, and parents will be pointing at them in their glass cases and saying to their children, "See, honey? People used to read off of those. They didn't download information directly into their brains like you do."

That day is looming larger.

I'm all for the Internet, and it's great that people can hold their entire library- their entire lives- in the palm of their hand, but books are just nice once in a while.

Show some love. Buy a book.

(dramatic ending)

And now I'm back to thinking about school and I'm panicking. AARGH. Why is summer so SHORT?