The Pretend World of Harry Potter

Feel free to be aware of how much I say 'cool', 'neat' and 'awesome' in this blog. 

I liked Harry Potter World. I liked walking under the gates into Hogsmeade, with the Hogwarts Express right there and the snow covered village all sparkly (and boiling hot and filled with Muggles). I liked seeing the Hog's Head and the Three Broomsticks and, best of all, the Hogwarts castle.

It was pretty freaking cool. Breaking it down...

Architecture and buildings: It looks really sweet. Apart from the fact that the fake snow (really? It's Florida.) and the fact that when you actually go up and touch it, it feels like plastic, it's completely believable. They put a lot of effort into the store displays and building decor and it turned out well. So as long as you don't physically touch it, you can keep up with the illusion that it's been around for hundreds of years.

Food: I didn't actually eat anything there because the line ups were ridiculous and they didn't actually have themed food* but I did get a butterbeer. How could I not, really? I can pretty much say that I didn't that beverage. It wasn't disgusting and it was kind of like a weird root beer float but I don't think I'll ever get another one. I'm glad I did, though. I also got a pumpkin juice, even though it was overpriced, but I haven't opened it yet because I plan to take it home to my family.**

Rides: The line ups were better on some than others, but, in general, I would say the rides were good. The main ride, which is called The Forbidden Journey, was an hour wait but mostly worth it. They have you walk through the castle and you get to see a bunch of cool replicas (like the door to Dumbledore's office! So sweet. Plus all the portraits that move.). Then for the actual ride, you sit in a seat with shoulder straps and they take you through a mixture of a 3D looking movie, freaky spiders than descend and spit on you and creepy Dementors/wind machines. It's actually kind of scary.

The other rides were nice. The Hippogriff one was a long wait for a short, somewhat boring ride. The dragon one was fast, loopy and scary. And that was basically it.

Shops: Unfortunately, I only went into Honeydukes and Zonko's. The line for Ollivander's was the longest and completely in the sun so we didn't go there, not that I really wanted a wand. As cool as it would be, I don't know if I want an expensive souvenir sitting around my room for the rest of my life. There was also the post office but again, that had a long line standing in the sun. I did buy some postcards from the cart outside. So we went into Honeydukes where there was all the candy, overpriced but neat. And then to Zonko's which was less cool and just had a couple of things from the books and then some yo-yos and slinkies.

All in all, it was nice. I wasn't dying to go when I heard about it, but I'm glad I got the chance. It wasn't exactly what I expected and I wish it was a whole lot bigger but it's good for what it is. And the idea is a nice one, but the money grabbing aspect will always bug me. Anyway, if you don't get to go, I will say that it's not a huge deal. I mean, it's cool being there but it didn't change anything for me and I wasn't exactly blown away. (Though maybe if I wasn't such a cynic I would have been.)

I gotta go. The cruise starts tomorrow. So we'll see if there's internet at all. If not, I'll see you next Sunday. Not literally see you, but... you know.

*It was basically the same things you find in the other restaurants, only you get to sit in The Three Broomsticks.

**Because I'm the awesomest, nicest sister/daughter in the world.

Five People, One Bathroom (+Harry Potter World)

It's tricky in the morning. No one here is a vicious bathroom hog but in the mornings, if we want to leave the hotel room at 8:30, we have to start getting up a long time before that. And as I wait now for my partner-in-crime/fake sister to get out of the shower, I am consumed by hunger. I don't know what's for breakfast (the word bagel has been tossed around a bit), but I'm ready to start eating it.

We're going to Harry Potter World today. That's actually not what it's called. It's the Wizarding World of Harry Potter and I suppose they had to clarify the wizarding part for all the non-Harry Potter nerds. I'm almost not looking forward to it because as awesome as it sounds, the lines will not be pleasant. I wish I could have one day there, all to myself to wander the empty streets of Hogsmeade. But we know that's not going to happen.

***

I've now been to Harry Potter World. And I'm forever changed.

When I heard about the whole world thing, I was excited but in a 'That's really cool but, in all honesty, I'm never going to go because I'd have to fly to Florida and it seems pointless and I'm sure it'll be great but it could also be kind of a money grabbing tourist trap.' I didn't have a strong urge to pack my trunks and get on the train to Orlando.

But then something magical happened. Cheesy: I didn't seek out Harry Potter World; it found me and worked its wait into my heart.

Just kidding.

I'm not going to review the park right now. I'm tired and I need to sleep on it until my mind is fully formed. Strange expressions are strange. But I will say the following:

I wish there was a day for Harry Potter fans only. Where everyone else has to stay out and the rest of us could have it all to ourselves. Granted, I did not wear a costume to go to the park but that was more due to lack of foresight than lack of enthusiasm.

There could be a Harry Potter IQ test at the entrance. If you passed a certain number of questions, you can come in. If not, you can go spend your day in the rest of the park, on X-Men rides and Jurassic Park stuff. Maybe I'm being an elitist but wouldn't that HP nerd unity be completely awesome? (Not to mention shorter wait times.) I'm not saying you have to be the hugest fan in the world to get in, but it would be nice if the people who came to HP Nerd Day (as I'm calling it) had actually read the books, rather than just seen the movies.

And then the other six days a week, it could be a free for all.

Please, Universal?

Missing you

If you are reading this, I did not get a chance to write a blog today. That is largely due to the fact that I spent most of my day in an unknown place with no internet. Possibly Harry Potter World.

You see, yesterday, I woke up at 6am, had a shower, drove to Seattle, flew to San Fransico, flew to Orlando and then fell into a deep and restful sleep. Today, I probably woke up and immediately embarked on some grand adventure and didn't come back until late. Or I came back to no internet. Hotels... (Read: I hate you, Westin!)

And so I didn't have time to blog. But this is me, from the past, and you have no idea how odd it was to write past tense about the future. Really strange.

There's this part of a movie/tv show where one character says something along the lines of the following:
"You know that John Lennon song? 'You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not.'"
"You mean, 'But I'm not the only one.'"
"No, I don't."
"That's the line."
"Maybe you're thinking of a different song."

Anyway, I can't remember where this is from and how it got into my mind but if you could tell me, that would be fantastic. Please please tell me. kthnxbai.

Airport!

I'm in the airport! And I'm sitting here at the gate in San Fransico waiting to board and go to Florida. It's rather exciting to be on your computer in the airport because you get to type and generally look cool doing unknown cool people things.

Maybe that's just how I feel personally. Finally though, I'm in on something. Maybe no one else cares. That's a distinct possibility. The thing is that I care. And that's what matters, she said, with her hands over her heart and a faraway look in her eye.

Sometimes I feel the need to narrate my speech to make things clear. I'm not talking about only blogs, as witnessed above. I mean, a lot of the time I just want tom make dramatic clarifications after I've said something. Such as this:

I don't really like airplanes, she said thoughtfully.

It's not so much the close quarters or the tiny aisles or recycled air. I can just never get comfortable. And then after an hour and a half my butt starts to hurt and there's only so much maneuovering around you can do in economy class.

We're boarding. I leave you. I'll try to write tomorrow but everything is so unsure.

Where BEDA ends

This, technically, is the last day of BEDA for me. Well, not really technically, because really technically I didn't publish a blog on August 11th but I did write one and I did publish it eventually. I suppose, also, that I will be back in the internets sometime over the next two weeks and definitely on the 31st. But it's all pretty unsure.

What is sure?

Sure is that I don't have a favourite colour. Except for yellow.
Sure is that I am having pizza for dinner. Mushrooms. Om nom.

I'm sure of a lot of things. Mostly. Not really. I guess I'm not sure of anything. But I did have pizza for dinner. Sorry for the change in tense there but there was a hiatus in between this paragraph and the last.

That's two nights of pizza in a row. One of which pizzas I made. Really though, the answer is always pizza. I don't know why my mother even bothers asking what I'd prefer for dinner anymore. Maybe she is forgetful. Maybe she is hoping I am forgetful. But I will never forget the joy that pizza has brought me. And I will never stop wanting to eat it. In theory. As I said, I'm not really sure of anything.

That was a weird paragraph. I suppose I'm in a weird mood. You know that feeling where you know you've forgotten something but you don't know what it is? I don't have that.

No, the feeling I have is more of a 'Okay, so logically, I've probably forgotten to pack something but I cannot think of one thing I own that is not in my suitcase and, wow, that's a big suitcase.' The 'one thing I own' part is, of course, hyperbole but I have to tell you that lately I've been in a rather hyperbole-ish mood. Not sure what that's about but I'm sure my therapist will be interested in knowing that I'm finally stepping up to the plate of being dramatic and attention seeking.

Just kidding #1: I wouldn't tell anything that revealing to my psychiatrist.
Just kidding # 2: I don't have a psychiatrist. (Are you reading this Dr. McCoy? Go get a part in Star Trek for Spock's sake*)

Yeah, I'm aware that this blog took an odd turn. What're you gonna do about it?

*I'm really not qualified to make Star Trek references but I don't let things like qualifications get in my way. Ever. (Which is how come, if I want to, I'll be able to go to college/university without a high school degree. In theory.)

Paper

I know you're all tired of me going on about my coming vacation and how much I have to do and all that (wait, it's just me that gets irritated when people talk about their vacations constantly? Weird.) but I'm going to continue with a related thread.

By Thursday morning, I'll be in Orlando. Setting of John Green's third novel and Margo Roth Spiegelman's paper town. Home of Disney World as well as The Wizarding World of Harry Potter. Orlando. (does anyone else remember being in love with Orlando Bloom? That was just me? Okay, good to know.)

I made this video yesterday, part of it being an open letter to John Green. I didn't say much but I did say something. Important. To me. I figured I'd have more to say about here that but I don't. It's all in the video. Apparently I said the word 'awesome' quite a few times. That happens when I'm speaking directly to people I look up to, whether or not they'll ever see it. Plus, if I could only use one word to describe John Green, it would be awesome.

I'm so cryptic today. It's been a long day and it went a bit smoother than I assumed it would. Pessimist, realist, Miss Negativity. Choose your term. I'm not *always* like this. Just sometimes.

Phone conversation with my dad
Me: Hey.
Dad: Hello.
Me: Hello yourself.
Dad: Who is this?
Me: Your favourite.
Dad: How'd you get back from England so quickly, Caitlyn?
Me: Yeah, dad. Nice. You're really funny.
Dad: Sorry, Rachel. Couldn't resist.
Me: Did you call for a reason? Because I'm about to hang up.
Dad: What size are your feet?

(that's not the end of the conversation but I felt it was a sufficiently awkward note to end it on.)

The contacts aggravate me. First, there was the woman telling me over and over to "Readjust the lens and try again," and then my eyes was red and now I have a headache. I'm not sure if the headache is related but still, the first go at contact lenses was not a startling success for a couple reasons:

1. They're hard to put in. I know this should get easier with time, but right now it's frustrating and I'm impatient.
2. My face is so bare without glasses. I'm aware I could probably get used to that too, but I'm not a huge fan of the naked feeling. Plus, glasses contribute to my general nerdiness.

I'm sleepy now. Why do all my blogs end with me being sleepy? Probably because I'm usually too sleepy at the end of my blogs to think of anything else to write.

If anyone was curious (*cough* Vita), my new job is working at a grocery store. I'll be stocking shelves and bagging groceries and showing shoppers where the ketchup is. That's how cool working is. Dress pants

I know I don't make sense. Also, I'm weird. Don't worry, people, I have a little sister to tell me these things.

Natural craziness

Sometimes I get a tad crazy. Maybe more than a tad. What is a tad? Sorry. The point is...
I don't do drugs. Why is it 'do' drugs? That doesn't make sense.
I don't drink alcohol. Much. Kidding. I'm not a fan. Wine, beer, etc. all kind of tastes gross to me.
I'm a pretty low key, indoor-type individual. You know how I'm blogging every day* this month? That's proof.
And yet... sometimes I can be crazy. Really odd, walking down the street and laughing like a mental person crazy. Maybe this is because I sometimes eat large quantities of brownies. Maybe it's because I am, in fact, mentally ill. But regardless, it's pretty darn entertaining at the time.

When was the last time you had a conversation with you sister about how if you were owls you'd both be dead**? Never? You don't have a sister? Whatever, that proves my point.

I was actually walking down the street today laughing at my sister and had a guy start laughing at me. I mean, what kind of person gets laughed at for laughing?

Usually there's a crashing point but not today. Today, I think my craziness was a result of exhaustion and post-needle-in-arm syndrome which means rather than progressing from hyper to melancholy I've just descended into exhausted zombie.
(In case you were wondering, I did not cry, hyperventilate or pass out at the vaccine clinic so I'd say that's a huge step up from Last Time. Maybe my not-quite-needle-phobia has passed.)

Why do I get like this? How do I find myself so incredibly amusing? Would I have stolen my owl sister's glasses, survival of the fittest style? Why is Zellers closed? Why are we here? Why has John Green been made aware of my awful failed attempt at video blogging by my sister who means well? Why did my sister who has not read any John Green books get to meet John Green and I did not?

Urg. I need to go to sleep. What? It isn't 8 o'clock yet? Too bad. Sleep.

*There could be some complications later on, as I've mentioned. We'll see.
**Now we endearingly call each other Handicapped Owl. Who's nerdy?

Contact Lenses, Shoe Shopping and More

This is going to take me longer than 10 minutes which is the amount of battery time I have left on my computer. Rats.


*rummages for power adapter*


There you are. Okay. Behold my week:

1. Fix bathing suit. The bottoms are a little loose and rather than buy news ones (I abhor bathing suit shopping) I'm going to take the ring out and try to sew them together. It would be easier if I could show you but just imagine some minor alterations.
2. Buy black dress pants. 'Cause that's what employed people must wear. No more leather miniskirts. :(
3. Find and purchase adorably comfortable sandals. This quest failed last time around but the second attempt will prevail!
4. Have a contact lens fitting and learn how to place foreign objects onto my eye. I know that's going to be a fun appointment. I can just tell with these things.
5. Select books and wardrobe for vacation. Note how books come first.
6. Refresh on the Spanish language. Tengo que recordar cómo se dicen algunas cosas.
7. Get immunized against Hepatitis A. I have to use words like 'immunized' or else I'd have to say something like 'Get a needle stuck in arm that will inject dead pathogens into my bloodstream in an attempt to make me stronger.'
8. Go to orientation. Learn stuffs.
9. Fly to Florida, possibly go to Harry Potter World and then embark on Caribbean cruise.

My life is kind of crazy right now. Also, I am a dummy at math.

Infinity and Beyond

Last night I slept in a field. This blog is late because there was no internet in the field. Go figure.

There's something magical about the stars. That's obvious. The night sky is fascinating. And so big. Last night as I was thinking of what I would write in this blog post, I thought the following:
I am in a field. I am sandwiched between two tarps and this is nice. That star is big. That star is moving. That's not a star. Why does that look like a UFO? Aliens! 
Wow. I'm so small. I'm so unbelievably, ridiculously tiny. Why am I here? How did this universe happen? Whoa. Deep. Do I even matter? What's the point? That thought sounds suicidal but it's so true. How can anything in my life have any relevance at all when there are places so far away in a universe so big I can't even fathom it?
Why here and now? What's going on? Whoa. I feel so small.


Because I am slightly obsessive, I had my sister start this blog yesterday, knowing that it would look like I had published it yesterday even though I hadn't because that's how Blogger does things. This turned out to be unnecessary because with the new Blogger you can schedule your blogs and how they appear.

Someday, maybe, I'll be looking through my blog archive and I'll have forgotten that on August 11 of Blog Every Day August, I technically did not blog. Technically. Then I'll read this and remember and we'll have come full circle and--oh my God--deja vu!

There's a distinct possibility that for a week this month I will not be able to blog. I have accepted this and though it saddens me, I'm beginning to be okay with it. Mostly. There may be posts if I can schedule them to be posted on the different days and if I decide I want to do that. I'm not sure if that defeats the point of BEDA but is there a point to BEDA? Is there a point to anything?

Having some major, Colin Singleton-esque issues right now. There will be another blog soon.

Unnecessary Information

First day I almost forgot to blog. And it's 10:30 and I'm tired so this is going to be a boring, Welcome To My Day Blog. Not that my day was boring, it wasn't, but it might be for you. I do not blame you if you stop reading this now. Honestly, I think I've done pretty well with the topics so far from school to Harry Potter to writing to book addictions so I totally deserve this My Day Blog.

7:08am Woke up. Late. scrambled into clothes, brushed hair briefly and looked in the mirror for a fraction of a second.
7:16am Left the house, sans breakfast. Got in the car and drove for around ten minutes.
7:29am Arrived at the parking lot before everyone including, but not limited to, the Japanese students, the other TAs, the bus and the homestay program coordinator. I wanted to be there early.
7:45am Most students were there. I avoided the eyes of my own group for fear that I would start to cry prematurely.
8:01am The bus drove away, the students crying inside and on their way to Vancouver for the day.
8:30am London Fog for breakfast. Yummy.
10:30am Worked out in the fields of the farm which is only a farm in my imagination and is more aptly described as a wild, slightly tamed garden. Picked blackberries. Got prickled by evil blackberry bushes.
11:44am Union scheduled tea break!
12:30pm More blackberries to be picked.
2:34pm Lunch of bun and butter and blackberries. Alliteration for the win.
3:39pm Used Google Calendars to synchronize social life with friends. There are no more secrets!
5:30pm Dinner of Indian food. Om nom.
6:07pm Sat around. What's next?
6:31pm Let's go to Tim Horton's (Timmy Ho's? T Ho's?)
7:01pm Loitered in Tim Horton's with nothing but a triple chocolate cookie and our dignity.
7:45pm Browsed through Shoppers Drugmart. Because we could.
8:22pm Went through my wardrobe with my unpaid intern fashion consultants (i.e. friends and sister) to pick out cruise clothes. My bed is now covered with clothes. Yay for being a girl?
9:15pm Friends left. Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince starts.
10:30pm Blog gets written.
10:50pm BED!

Story of my Life

I don't know why I feel like writing this today, but here is a brief retelling of the events in my life that have led up to the exciting events of today. Maybe I just wanted an excuse to talk to third person about myself.

Once upon a time there was a third child in a family of six, living in Ontario. She had a lot of middle child issues--a desire to strike out on her own and be unique, a talent for mediating conflict and a sensitivity that is upset by anyone's strong emotions. But she also possessed a lot of other traits that broke the middle child mold.


From age 2-8 she lived in a community of townhouses. It was a childhood of waiting at the entrance of said townhouse complex for the school bus so that she could play with her friends who went to school and staying out in the playground and later the whole complex until dark, playing grounders as well as cops and robbers.


It was a good time. A time of bicycle wheels and scooters (my scooter was a big one with tires instead of those tiny wheels and so it was never cool, even though, looking back, mine was awesomer and more efficient). And then it ended because one thing led to another and suddenly we were sitting in the Daisy Kingdom (my room in the basement) with my mom saying how we were moving to British Columbia and I'd make new friends and have new adventures and it would be fantastic. I don't think I believed her but I was too young to have formed my mind on that yet.


We left Ontario in February 2003, travelling in our angry white minivan (it had a weird eyebrow-like thing on the hood) with out tent trailer behind us. We fled South to the purported warmth and then West through Texan beaches and New Mexican sand dunes. We went to alien museums in Roswell and ghost towns in Arizona. We had adventures, like my mom had promised. In every picture from back then, I am doing some absurd pose like an eight year old's portfolio for America's Next Top Model, not that that information is strictly crucial to this story.


Settling into our lives in BC, we moved around a bit until we found our current home. Girl Guides gave us friends and Surrey Connect gave us homeschooling horror stories. It was good. We weren't nomads anymore, however enjoyable that had been. The band broke up after a surreal and hilarious scene and it was okay, parents finding themselves residing in two different places. Not as emotionally crippling as some movies would have you believe.


Teenagerdom came. Harry Potter 7 was released. Books became life. Blogging became a norm. Travelling was a lot of fun. Life went on.


That girl, no longer eight and beginning to understand the shortcomings of her middle childness, did not know that the summer she was sixteen years old (learning to drive with a ton of psychos out there) a friend would invite her on a trip to Florida to go on a cruise of the Caribbean. She didn't know that she'd sit there not really reacting because it didn't seem real and did these things really happen in real life? Like, what?

Yeah, that is correct. I'm heading out to sea in two weeks. (This can't be real. Inception is getting to me and I'm dreaming and in a second Leonardo is going to walk into my room and I'll know this isn't real... or not.)

Sleepy dreams are sleepy

After seeing Inception tonight, I'm almost weary of going to sleep. Like, I know that in all likelihood some guy that looks vaguely like Jack from Titanic is not going to invade my dreams and point a gun in my face but some part of me is mildly worried that is exactly what is going happen*.

I feel like my dreams should be different after watching it. Like I'll start seeing the people in my dreams as projections and everything will start to be as clear as a movie. But I know it probably won't.

I won't know for sure until tonight, if I can remember my dreams at all. I can only speak for myself, but the way I usually dream is like a fuzzy room that only makes sense one piece at a time. I have to focus on each part to understand and remembering that dream in the morning is the same only harder. It's like I'm not discovering the dream but creating it as I go along and then discovering it, if that makes sense. My dreams aren't as clear as a movie, like the ones Ellen Page painted in Inception. They're blurry and disjointed, almost like a random sequence of events taking place in an as yet undefined world.

I can't help thinking that if I can remember my dreams tomorrow morning, they'll be somewhat different, influenced by this undeniably influential film.

It's really too late for me to go into a deep self discussion about the movie and it's reaching ideas and thought provoking concepts. Really, I think the movie gives us more questions than answers and that, I believe, is the sign of a truly amazing work of fiction. The thing about Inception was that there was quite a bit of action and gunshot and those kind of special effects but it didn't seem like there was because there was more than that. It wasn't just the gravityless effect that you were admiring (though that was intensely cool) but it was the combination of that with the suspense but also the intellectual side of things.

I guess there was something for everyone, especially those who love the crazy deep questions such as myself. And there's so much value in a movie that questions our deepest beliefs with concepts as immense as "What is real?" Maybe we'll never know the answers but it really is fun to think on.

*Not that I really have any secrets worth breaking into my subconscious for.

August 6ths of Random

This blog consists of many parts brought together by the beautiful magic of numbered lists. So enjoy:

1. I always get the most response when I talk about school. This happens to support my idea that the top two topics for everyday conversation are school and the weather. Both things we supposedly all have in common. Is this normal?
2. Today is the anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima in 1945. I don't know much about this and I wouldn't even have known it was today if I hadn't been spending the week with a bunch of Japanese students. But, um, yeah. Sad events are sad.
3. Tomorrow is Saturday. Why am I telling you this? Thought you ought to know. (In all likelihood, though, you're reading this on Saturday or some day after it so this whole part is useless but I'm not deleting it because at this point we going for filler, hence this amazing run on sentence.)
4. John Green amazes me. Constantly.
5. Today, I got as close to 7th grade as I think I ever will. I can't explain exactly, but think, 'my friend wanted me to tell you that she likes you. Also, truth or dare!'

That's all. I hope you enjoyed the unity and consistency of this blog post. (Have you ever tried to explain sarcasm to someone who's trying to learn English?)

kthnxbaigoawaynow ;)

Book Addict

You know that book? The one that you can't seem to put down, and not in the clichéd definition of that phrase that us book nerds hear far too often, but in an actual: SLEEP or FOOD or BOOK? (the answer is usually book)

I find it so hard to define what it is about a book that has you forgetting that there are such a thing as chapter breaks and starting to think that if you just ignore everyone around you, you can finish before bed. Why are some books gripping? And not even in an intense action scene, what's going to happen way. I actually dislike action scenes. No, it's something else. There's something about fantastic writing that feels so good to read you don't ever want to stop.

There doesn't have to be characters you adore or a mysterious plot. There's just something about reading a compelling book that is so addictive. Maybe it's a skill that one can acquire, writing books that need to be devoured in one piece.* I hope so.

I'm reading Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson. I don't know exactly what to say about it. It's not charming or quirky. There's no breath catching romance going on. I feel really frustrated with the characters for not dealing with what's going on in the way I think I would deal with it. But it's none of that. It's not about that.

It's just good, okay? It's pretentious in the best of ways. It doesn't speak down to its readers, instead crediting them with intelligence and compassion. It's literary fiction for teens and every sentence is as delicious as they come.

Read it. And maybe you'll start to find, like I have, that being addicted to a book isn't such a bad thing. Who ever said it was anyway?

*That kind of made it sound like I constantly rush through reading which is far from the truth. I savour every tiny piece of the books that I admire. Every word, sentence, paragraph and chapter.

In which Harry teaches us yet another lesson

As I sit here and watch Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, I can help but realize the important lessons in this movie. And they're not lesson lessons--the kind that, when you read a book or watch a movie, feel like swallowing gravel because seriously, YA writers, we don't want you to condescend to teach us a lesson, we want to read a well written story that has meaning. Gah.

No, these lessons are simply, unintentional ones, like 'Don't spend too much time making a cake if a house elf is just going to splatter it all over your guests later' and 'Twelve year olds should not drive to school and if they do, they should wear their seat belts.' (really Harry? You're a mugglefreaking idiot)

The other lessons are equally not thrust in your face although somewhat less relevant to today's teenager. Here are a couple more lessons in list format, for those of you who aren't interested in reading between the scenes:

• If you consistently bleach your hair or wear a long, extremely blond wig, you will became a flaming racist.
• If you receive a red envelope that screams hate mail, take it outside before you open it. That way, your face won't match your hair when it's finished screaming at you.
• Never let a man who has won a smile contest play doctor with your arm (this includes not only Gilderoy Lockhart but Carly Cullen, too).
• When you start hearing voices in your head saying 'Kill', see the Hogwarts Psychiatrist, aka, Dobby.

Aside from that though, a couple weeks ago, a certain person commented on how juvenile the initial Harry Potter books are and I am now ready to respond to this. Here it is:

Of course they're juvenile. They were written for children. That does not take away their applicability. It also does not mean they're not incredibly written and executed and generally well plotted.

But back to the movies, these kids are just too unbelievably adorable. I know there are people who think that present day Dan Radcliffe is repulsive (I respectfully disagree), but you have to admit he was pretty darn adorable in 2002. Same goes for the rest of the cast, though something should have been done about Hermione's hair. I guess it fits the description and all but what human being should have to go through having that captured for their entire life?

All this was put into perspective for me today as I heard at least four Japanese teenagers tell me they like Harry Potter because it is exciting. Apparently, learning English is fun.

The Writing Process

One of my famous lists. The first of BEDA.

I find it noteworthy whenever an author answers the question "What is your writing process like?" It kind of reveals a lot about the person. Do they write at night or early in the morning? Do they type ten sentences an hour or 2,000 words a day? Are they alone in their basement or listening to other people's conversations in a coffee shop.

So this is my preparation. It's worth saying that it all varies. I like to write when I'm home alone but that quiet house does not happen into existence* every day. I have to roll with it all and fit my life into my writing however I can, sometimes at the detriment of my formal 'schoolwork'.

1. Ascertain my computer. Lately, I find it necessary to write on my computer because I have specific scenes to write and they are outlined in a Excel sheet that I fear I cannot live without. Other times I've been able to use my notebook or, *gasp*, normal paper.
2. Music. Right now it's The Beatles but I have a number of different playlists that I find helpful to my muse**.
3. Twitter. It's always a nice way to make sure you don't get enough written. Plus, I'm sure my followers all love my constant updates during writing time. How can your life be complete until you've read that a fly just landed on my Backspace key and now I can't correct my typos for fear of disturbing it?
4. Pajamas. I really don't feel prepared until I'm wearing my PJs. It's just not right to leave them out of this.
5. Open the Word doc and Excel sheet. Once I've figured out what scenes I have to write, I stare at the blinking vertical bar which I'm not sure the name of. It's almost therapeutic.
6. Make tea. Once the kettle is on I have a dance party.
7. Burn fingers with boiling tea while trying drink it. This is always a fun step.
8. Commence pouring soul into keys. Kidding, I'm not that cliche. Or am I?

That's about it. I have to start onto this list now because, surprise surprise, I've got the whole house for the next hour and a half!

How do YOU write?

*Does anyone else remember when I obsessively thought that exist had an 'h' in it? That was cute.

**And I use that word ironically. Muses are for Disney movies, silly.