7 Days

They're watching Mass in the living room. And I feel like a bad person because I'm in here blogging and, well, not watching Mass.

I'm evil.

The second one is incorrect (it should be whom), which is usually enough to get an icon banned from my blog to the fiery depths of grammatically incorrect hell forever, but I liked it too much.

Worked last night. Ugh. So. Not. Busy. At. All. Somewhat thankfully, Pam was having a slight existential meltdown upstairs because the store kind of hasn't recovered from Harry Potter yet, and there are piles of books waiting to be reshelved, and nowhere near enough people to do it, what with the contingent that must be in the cafe AT ALL TIMES OMG. So I was recruited to help.

First I got to put CDs in those little anti-theft thingies, which is massive amounts of fun. I highly recommend it if you ever get the chance.

Then I was handed two baskets full of overstock and told, "Oh, yeah, they go up there somewhere *gestures vaguely towards the ceiling*". So I got to play on the ladder by the overstock shelves. And let me tell you, not so easy to balance twenty-eight copies of Tim Russert's book that IS NOT SELLING AT ALL while perched somewhere over the music secion.

Very dusty. And hot, what with the being right under the lights and all. I don't recommend this
so much.

Finally, the children's section. *organ music plays*

Reason #438 Not To Have Children: Those little buggers are MESSY. Seriously. I'd clean up the spinners, and then go over to the actual shelves to put away some books. Five seconds later, the spinners would be DESTROYED again.

Pam actually called them "little bastards". I found that rather amusing, whilst suggesting that she not refer to them as that in front of their obnoxious parents.



While I was waiting for Mom to be off the phone yesterday (I don't remember why. I'm sure I had a good reason, though.), I started going through her pictures, from the 1970s.

I'll spare you all the customary lecture on Why White Men Should Not Have Afros and Porn Mustaches Actually That One Applies To All Races, Creeds, and Colors Because It Is Not Of The Lord, Y'All. You've all heard that.

I shall instead comment briefly upon my mother's absolutely gut-wrenchingly deplorable taste in men, at least until she met my father.

Shall we begin with Chet? Who had the same creepy-ass smarmy grin under his porn mustache in every picture? The pictures that spanned like then ENTIRE decade, because again, DEPLORBLE TASTE!!! One should not look the same in 1978 that you do in 1975. It's not right, y'all.

Also, why was she at so many damn Democrat functions? I mean, I know she was dating him, but couldn't she have been like, "Um, you know honey, I'm gonna sit this one out. I don't feel like KILLING BABIES TONIGHT!!!" Sheesh.

Or the bastard whose name she didn't even remember, but the mere memory of which sent my aunt into hysterics?

Not quite the hysterics I was in when I saw a picture of her (My aunt, not my mom. Don't worry, Dad.) old fiance. They looked like a very typical lesbian couple. My mom was trying to explain that he was considered attractive back in the day. Um. Yeah. If you like chicks.

(Also got the actual story on my mother's retarded friend who apparently didn't realize that she was having sex. It was gross. But intriguing.)

Finally arrived in the 1980s, when my Daddy showed up. Accompanied by Baby Mr. Mickey, and several overweight friends in short-shorts. I'm not sure that I'll ever feel clean again.

Still better than Chet. *gags*

Nobody expects spanish inquizishun.

Oh, good. I like them. I was worried I'd have to stop watching in order to quell my feelings of homicidal rage towards Barbara Walters.

Speaking kind of of The View, well, duh. How stupid did she think we were???

Molly Weasley, pwner of bitches.

I. Do not. Like working.

At all.

Thursday I worked all freaking day, in the cafe no less. And it was not pleasant. *TMI warning* With about two hours left, my bra snapped, and from then on every time I took a breath there was an underwire jabbing me in the rib. This forced me to stop at Target on the way home and actually shop for a bra, which surely must be in the top three things I hate doing, along with cleaning toilets and pulling the hair out of drains. *eww* Also, Colleen's friend was the cashier, thus foiling Colleen's grand plan to never, ever let any of her friends realize that she or anyone in her family has breasts, a uterus, or underarms.

Today was just a lot of smelly people (No, really. The body odor was overwhelming at times) who wanted me to magically know the title of the book they wanted, even though they were unwilling to give me a word in the title, an author, or indeed anything other than, "Oh, but I really enjoyed it!" or "The cover is blue." Uh-huh. That's totally going to help me. I'll just direct you to our "blue cover" section. Right next to the "non-fiction" for the morons that have yet to realize that by virtue of not being classified "fiction", EVERYTHING ELSE in the freaking store is non-fiction. *bangs head against table*

And I have to work Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday this week.

*more head banging*

But then on Friday, we get to go to Galena-yay!!!

Happy, happy, joy, joy.

Although I will probably forget something basic like a toothbrush because I will have had no time to prepare, as I am working like a communist. Grrr. So mad about that.

Really looking forward to it. Well, except the part about sharing a double-bed with Imladris. Who is a territorial sleeper.


Ooh, wait, I just remembered another crazy person story from this morning. This woman comes up holding Harry Potter and goes, "When did this come out?"

No.

Really.

She wasn't kidding.

I am forced to presume that she has been incommunicado, studying penguins in the arctic for the past six months.

In ur orchestra... I cannot help myself from all the LOLcats goodness. I apologize.

*More TMI Warning* I am having an inappropriate and confusing reaction to this Sweeney Todd poster.

Well, okay, not so confusing. The confusing part is a mere cursory "No! He's evil! This shouldn't be attractive to you!" being whimpered by my Inner Good Girl, who is kept chained in a corner when it comes to Johnny Depp.

The inappropriate part is winning by a long shot.

Want more Johnny goodness (and some Imladris-hate)??? I thought so.

People magazine came yesterday, and this picture was in StarTracks.

I'll pause here a minute so that you may pick your jaws off the floor. Oh. Just me? Okay.

I'm understandably screeching and maybe ovulating a little, and Colleen scoffs and goes, "Eh. He's kind of getting old."

BLASPHEME!!!

I'm not sure I want to be in her Squishy Court anymore.

We have meat. Wrapped in bread. And lemon cake. I'm going to go eat all of it.

I Don't Feel Much Like a Title Today.

So I know this guy who doesn't have a stove. Or rather, he has a stove, but it's located right under the freakishly sensitive fire alarm and so as a qualification of the lease he is not allowed to actually use it. Previously, I assumed that this would be a minor incovenience, I mean, how much do you really use a stove?

Now I feel like calling him and asking what he's making for dinner.

Because our stove has been out for days, and I'm starting to get really annoyed with pancakes and grilled cheese. Maybe if someone would listen to me about buying some canned chicken, we wouldn't have this problem, but they never do. *sigh*

It was actually easier to stop at Alterra than come up with something to eat this afternoon. I'm not even kidding.

A very funny HP 7 parody:No way should a nine-year-old boy sound like Alan Rickman.

Also? Apparently after I have an adorable baby boy who looks just like Baby Neville, he's going to grow up to be wicked sexy.

I officially give Colleen my approval to marry him. (I'd do it myself, but he's a little young. I'll pause here for a "Yeah, he was born *after* the Nazi cause was defeated" joke or something from my faithful friends...)

I have to work all day tomorrow, and frankly this is putting a crimp in my plans of going to Starbucks. *sigh* But I do get to watch The Office at night. Whee!!!

If only I had real friends...

I called the Scholastic Speakers of Pennsylvania.

Note: It's actually Tuesday, July 24. I am officially too lazy to start a new post. Marvel at my utter lack of ambition.

We pick up again today where I left off on Saturday, with a brief (I promise) ETA: Okay. I just reread this. It's freakishly long discussion of my favorite chapter in Harry Potter Or Maybe Any Book Ever, the one with the Snevans goodness. Because I am *nothing* if not a crazed, YouTube video-watching fangirl at heart. Oh, and maybe a little about the whole good/evil thing in general.

And, oh yeah, I called it. That's right.

Also, I've actually been to bed, and am now capable of forming sentences slightly more complex than "Harry lives. Yay." Give me a little credit, though. I think the previous blog post came somewhere between the being scared of my own reflection (I look like SHIT after being up all night, let me tell you.) and the shower that did remarkably little to better my appearance.

I'm just saying.

So Mickey and Rockford and probably Colleen because she's got to be sick of me talking about this by now can just skip this part, mmkay???

Overall, I was happy with it. I'm about two hundred pages into a leisurely reread, and it's not spectacular prose by any means, but it's very engrossing. The only two parts I am having trouble understanding (along with everybody else at work, because this is pretty much all we've talked about since this weekend) are the "baby" thing in the Harry's-Not-Really-Dead-Land and the rock. I don't get the rock. In fact, the entire Deathly Hallows thing (except the wand) is slightly confusing.

I only would have changed two things- Snape would have died in a better way (avenging Lily or protecting Harry perhaps?), and there would have been something about what the characters did between the last page and the epilogue. (Yes, it was corny, but adorable. Shut up, I'm a girl.) At 754 pages, could you have told us if Neville marries anyone??? I think so.


I guess it was a bloodbath, in terms of people being killed, but they were mostly peripheral characters that I had no emotional connection to. The fact that Tonks and Lupin died, for no good reason other than to make Harry a godfather (*wailing "Circle of Life" off-key*) was pretty depressing, but their deaths weren't really even written. They were kind of just listed at the end. Oh, and Putin Dobby was sad. But Fred was really the only one I was upset about.

At least until Snape.

Snape undid me. I was waiting, like six hundred pages, kind of skimming over battle crap, and going, "No. Seriously. I pimped stickers at work for SIX FREAKING MONTHS. He HAS TO BE A MAIN CHARACTER!!!"

(I knew the patronus was his, I just didn't realize that it was because it was Lily's *aww*.)

But then they get to the part where he dies, and I immediately dress in black get all emotional, especially the part where he asks Harry to look at him. And I knew. I totally knew it was going to happen. Because they've been shoving the "Oh, they're your mothers eyes" down our throats for ten freaking years, and this is totally why!!!

I was right. The memories part---Oh. My. God. The best part of the whole freaking book. I actually read it like twice, because I was convinced that maybe I fell asleep and was dreaming or something, because this it TOTALLY WHAT I WANTED TO HAPPEN!!!

So. So. Much.

Poor little Snape---I kind of just wanted to hug him (and I promise, that wasn't a euphemism for anything), and then when he goes to Dumbledore to protect her? And when she dies and he's just destroyed??? And when Dumbledore tells him that Harry has to die, and he's all "No! This was all supposed to be to protect him!", I was CRYING!!!

But my favorite memory was when he took the letter with her signature. THEY HAD BETTER FREAKING HAVE THAT IN THE MOVIE. I may be compelled to throw myself at the screen.

I'm just warning y'all that may be attending with me, it's gonna get pretty embarrassing in 2010.

See??? SEE??? Teasing you get over! Calling the girl you adore the wizard equivalent of a whore, not so much apparently.

Now I'm going to go watch all the movies again and analyze subtext.


Oh, and the producers really screwed themselves over by taking Lily out of the Snape's worst memory scene from OotP, because it turns out *that* was the worst memory. Ha!

Fin with the Harry debate. At least until I think of something else.

Ooh, oooh, like this!!! Was Dumbledore totally an ass???



But wait- we're not done with Alan!!! I bought Perfume today, and holy mother that's an orgy at the end. Yep. Between the really graphic murdering/embalming parts (ewww...) and that whole thing, it took me about an hour to get through the whole movie.

Totally worth it though. He was lovely.


I'm rather tired. Got up at six to squire Mommy Dearest to the doctor. And then sat at the doctor for a long time. During which a doctor thought I was a business associate (long story, there were other guys in the waiting room), which I found terribly amusing. I wonder if it was the fact that I was wearing jeans and sandals, drinking a latte, or listing to an iPod that tipped him off. Teehee.

Then I went to Target in my first attempt to find Perfume, and also found a lovely eight-dollar handbag. Yay.

Yep. It's pretty exciting.

There are flies all over. And they shall feel my wrath.

All You Need Is Love

Oookay, so I guess when I suggested that my last entry (a mere fifteen hours ago) would be the only one all weekend, I forgot that I have so much to say and so few real people to listen to it!!!

Obviously, DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT DEATHLY HALLOWS SPOILED FOR YOU!!! Okay?

Did you hear me?

No longer my fault.

*ahem*

My inner fangirl is in a sleep-deprived tizzy. Even if she was kind of disappointed by the fact that the most gut-wrenching non-Snape death in the book was Fred (of Fred and George), and she was all geared up for a pile of bodies ala the Bard, but whatever.

Because the whole Snape/Lily thing (that I was totally going for)??? Amazing. I was reading, and it was like six hundred pages of fighting and angstiness and battle crap, and like two Snape lines (boo!!! poor form!!!), and then it's like God went, "Okay. You had a tough day at work. And it is four-thirty in the morning. I'll perk this up a little for you." And then spewed fangirly pleasure all across the page.

And thank God, it makes way, WAY more sense than the being teased thing. That was totally just not flying.

Harry lives. Yay.

He marries Ginny, and they have adorable children (named after Snape. Awww...). Ron and Hermione made it out alive, too. Yay.

Neville's a professor. Awww. I love Neville.

And Draco's losing his hair. Ah. All is right with the world.

I did get a teensy bit emotional. But I'm pretty sure that's because it was five-thirty in the morning.

So work was...um...interesting. I started at six, and while there weren't that many people there, the phones were ringing off the hook. Mostly to ask "What time do I have to be there?" (I don't care, leave me alone.) I was actually more considerate to the customers with inane Harry Potter questions than the ones who called and wanted to know where A Million Little Pieces was or something, because I had to strangle the urge to scream, "You dare interrupt someone working at a bookstore on HARRY POTTER NIGHT??? HAVE YOU NO SHAME!?!?!?", and that probably wouldn't have been good.

After things got going, I was giving away glowsticks (Erin and I were being fast and loose with the glowsticks---we weren't even asking questions), and then did sampling of hot coffee to the twenty-five thousand people shoved into a teensy space upstairs in order to drum up sales for a cafe that was so busy I had to go help twice. Frankly, I think that was a waste of my time.

Once we actually started selling them, my register broke twice and I almost had a stroke, but other than that it was good.

Finally got wrapped up around one fifteen, and then for some reason were kept around until closer to two, at which point Sarah redid her corset (locked and loaded) and her boob popped out. Yeah. That was fun.

And I totally looked at the ending as soon as I got it.

All in all, an eventful and rather fun evening. Although I think I should have been getting time and a half after midnight, but that's just me.

Didn't Ben Franklin have syphilis???

The Snape stickers I took from work a couple days ago-



Because I will clearly take any opportunity to say "very bad man" with a straight face and not be kicked off of a message board for inappropriate behavior. (Don't worry, Mom, that's never happened. My cousins tend to take care of pissing off the ISP's in the family.)

Colleen and I were laughing so hard last weekend when she stopped in, because really, what marketing genious who never saw a CSI or Law and Order thought this up??? I'm almost embarrassed to be employed by such a naive corporation.

Speaking of Alan (and really, when are we not?), I was watching Something the Lord Made yesterday (Colleen: Ugh. You're watching that again? Me: Did you even ever see the whole thing? Colleen: Yes. It made me cry. WITH BOREDOM!!!), and there's this one part with lonely, sexually frustrated Kyra Sedgewick fixing and lamp, and he goes, "I don't remember you wearing a tool belt at your coming out party."

A normal line, until you realize that he's like twenty years older than Kyra Sedgewick, so if he was at her coming out party he'd have been the creepy forty-year-old in the corner getting drunk. And I find that amusing.

He can come to my coming out party. You know, if I owned a dress and had friends.


This will probably be my last entry until Sunday, as I have to leave in a matter of hours for work, and then I work all day Saturday. By the time I get home at six, I'm pretty sure I'm going to feel less like talking to any of you and more like throwing things at the head of anyone who asks me anything. That's just the kind of customer service that I specialize in.

I'm half dreading, half excited for work tonight. I'm sure it'll be fun, especially since I tend to absorb excitment. So by eleven, I'll probably be WIRED. And not just because I've had a frappuccino today.

Emmy nominations were released yesterday morning. Overall, I'm happy. Neil Patrick Harris got a supporting actor nom for HIMYM (YAY!!!), and Jenna Fischer for The Office (YAY!!! 2.0). Also gotta love the Ugly Betty love. I love that show.

How I Met Your Mother is so. much. funnier. than 30 Rock, though. Booo!!!

Also, I've had inappropriate daydreams about almost all of the Lead Actor-Drama people. In the interest of saving what's left of my dignity (um...I'm sure there's some left), I'll not specify if it was three or four of them. Still, majority. I seriously need to watch less TV.

lolcat of the day. Hand me a towel! Ha! I love those cats.

Imladris Will Not Be Able To Read This

As I am apparently dead to her, and she refuses to acknowledge my presence, except when it was to wash her work shirts for her.

All because I had a the gall to suggest that she was not, perhaps, anticipating the St. Paul concert quite as much as I was, and therefore may enjoy the show from fifteen rows behind me.

Incidentally, bad idea.

I was immediately slammed with an incredibly far-reaching assault (back to the summer of '03- I'm sorry, I had very little else going on in my life, give me a break already!!!) about how I was abnormally obsessive about things, and while she may be a raging nut (my words, not hers) about everything else, this was the one thing she was rational about. *rolls eyes*

And okay, maybe I did see Pirates 17 times in theaters (I was fifteen. I had nothing else to do), and maybe I did skip class on the day before the Concert That Wasn't because I was physically ill at the thought of not going, and maybe I did drink my way through the weekend, and might have been on a crying jag most of Sunday afternoon until I broke out the jug of sangria, but I DON'T CARE.

MY CRAZY OBSESSIVE FANDOM WILL NOT DIE!!!

*deep breath*

We will now return to your regularly scheduled update. Thank you.

Except I don't actually have anything to say.

Oooh, found a pretty skirt for $4.98 at Target today, along with a lovely pair of jeans that are way too long, but only seven bucks so clearly I'll just drag them along behind me (bonus points for them being juniors, and not even the biggest size!!! I'm feeling remarkably better about myself), and a few tops. Tomorrow I think I'll hit Kohls, because I haven't bought any new clothes since last school year, and I am starting to go a teensy bit crazy. And as I am pathologically incapable for spending money, I really only shop the bargain racks.

Also, WILL SOMEBODY PLEASE STOCK THE BRAND-NEW NON-INFECTION-CAUSING COMPLETE??? Because I was at Target, two Walgreens', and an actual eye care place and NONE of them had it, and my eyes are ready to stage a revolution. I think I'll have to use my old bottle and risk the infection. *sigh*

Had Panera for lunch. Tastified.

Just to piss of Colleen, I'll stick with a fandom that isn't even really my fandom. So there *sticks out tongue in an incredibly mature fashion*

The Potter cast talks about the fate of their characters. A loosely translated transcript follows.

Daniel Radcliffe: *rolls around naked in his money*

Rupert Grint: Okay, maybe if I freaking *died*, I'd get some screen time. I'm pulling for that.

Emma Watson: Please don't kill me. I suck as an actress, and you know I won't be able to handle the death scene.

Imelda Staunton: Wait. I'm in the next one? Srsly?

Alan Rickman: You have got to be kidding me.

I love how he's clearly just doing this 'cuz Winter Guest didn't really set the box office on fire and he's got bills to pay.

Insert Something Witty Here

I'm too tired to think of a title. My day yesterday-

1:06 a.m.- Answer phone that rings. It's the Empress. I don't know why.
1:08 a.m.- Yay Sleeps tiem!!!
1:10 a.m.- Shit. Can't fall asleep.
4:00 a.m.- Chuck Norris really should do more than advertise exercise equipment.
7:00 a.m.- Awake to squire the Empress to work.
8:05 a.m.- Big-ass McDonald's coffee awaits. Sweet.
9:00-1:50- Clean house/do laundry/stalk various celebrities online
1:50 p.m.- Arrive at the Empress' place of indentured servitude, early, as per her imperial request.
2:15 p.m.- Hmmm. Wonder where she is.
3:00 p.m.- *hums Jeopardy theme*
3:45 p.m.- Am told to return home by Mother Dearest, because it appears that the Empress will just be living at work from now on.
4:00 p.m.- Arrive at home.
4:02 p.m.- Another phone call from the Empress. Apparently someone has finally arrived to relieve her. I get back in the car and go back to Cedarburg.
8:30 p.m.- Culvers. Custardcinos are amazing.
9:15 p.m.- Arrive home and realize with some sense of self-loathing that I have listened to the soundtrack from Hairspray like eighteen times in the car today.

I was in no mood.


Having major eye issues, y'all.

Other than the color (No, the blue is not a contact lens! STOP ASKING ME THAT!!! It's the one part of my drivers license I *didn't* lie on. If I ever go missing, they'll be looking for a blond chick who's five five and weighs 120 lbs. I'll be so dead.), I really hate my eyes. My vision sucks majorly, like I can't even read without a prescription. Which is why I was forced to wear unattractive glasses from the second grade until I turned fourteen and realized that there was no way in hell this was going to continue.

Le anyhoodles, they are also very dry, sensitive eyes. Eyes that probably should not be subjected to contact lenses for upwards of sixteen hours a day.

Unfortunately, alone with my dry, sensitive eyes, God also saw fit to bestow me with an inflated ego, major sense of vanity, and the complete and utter inability to see past like, this week to any major implications (i.e., blindness) that anything I may be doing will cause. So I wear contact lenses all day long.

About a year and a half ago, my eyes got so red an scratchy that I had to wear glasses for two weeks and go through this whole long thing that involved steroid eye drops and two different eye doctors and blah blah blah. You don't need to know that. Suffice to say, I found a prescription and a lens solution that worked, and life was all peachy.

Until Memorial Day weekend, when they discovered that my brilliant solution was causing minor issues like infection and blindness. Now, I may be in denial, but I'm not stupid, and I switched to another sensitive, dry eye formula that I assumed would work as well.

Turns out, the gods of Complete own my soul, and they were not pleased with my defection, because I can barely blink now my eyes are so aggravated. Ugh. And now I have to go back to using the "Um, no, we totally retooled the formula and I promise (but am not legally bound) that you won't go blind" Complete (yes, that's what I'm calling it now), if I want to continue wearing contacts.

*sigh*

But hey, the brilliant optometrist at Stein Optical said it's okay, so it must be, right? I mean, they don't give those "degrees" out to anybody.

Now, I know you really don't care about the books I read, because Mickey refuses to read, well, anything that Walt Disney didn't deign to sign, Imladris is so distracted that she had trouble getting through a page of a kids book, and Rockford's poor drug-addled mind doesn't seem very focused on reading, but I promise I'll just talk about this one.

While sitting in front of the Diner Where Colleen Works Whose Name Has Been Changed To Protect Her Privacy, I finished Bitter is the New Black, by Jen Lancaster (her blog- hilarious- can be found here), and Oh My Lord it's like my life if I entered the business world and got laid off (am I the only one with a filthy mind who thinks that's a funny term???).

Well, you know, except I'm apathetic about most things concerning work, and I was never that thin, but other than that.

She even talks about playing the Sims!!! I play the Sims!!!

It was so funny. Everyone should buy.

You may have noticed that all the iconage today is Snape. Or maybe you didn't, because most iconage most days is Snape, because I'm a teensy bit weird, but whatever.

I'm a little bit excited for the release of the last book. After further review of the craziness fan stuff out there, I kind of totally ship Lily/Severus, if only because it would explain the whole hating-Harry thing much much better than "OMG, your dad was mean to me once and it screwed me up for life." which just seems trite and stupid to me. Maybe if the rest of the later books were trite and stupid like most children's literature, but they're not. There are incredibly mature themes of good and evil in the later ones, and again, the teasing thing? It just doesn't do it for me.

It would also explain why Dumbledore was so convinced that he would never actually hurt Harry. If the woman you loved died protecting her baby, and then you got the chance fifteen years later to protect that baby, wouldn't you? I think so. I mean, you might be really bitter that it's not *your* baby (and hell, if Lily ever saw An Awfully Big Adventure, she might be kind of bitter, too) thus giving the illusion of hate, but you wouldn't kill it.

Anyway, that concludes my rambling for day. Almost. It's exciting *because* of the excitement. YES I agree completely.

Okay. That one just makes me laugh.

As you may have heard from the screams of woe coming from my house, Mandy Patankin is leaving Criminal Minds. In a huff like a big dumb girl, apparently. That's not important. What's important is that IT'S GOING TO SUCK NOW!!! Gah. I loved that show. Also, it's not a completely sad story if only for the numerous pop culture references that it's given us.

Where would we be without the Princess Bride and Mandy lyrics??? Where indeed?

I'm sorry, I can't help it.

This post has been far too long, and it is over now.

Maybe he'll grow up to be a felon, like his godfather.

I haven't worked in a couple of days, and frankly I've just barely had time to decompress. It was not a good work two days week, my friends. Not at all.

After the marathon awakeness that constituted Tuesday/Wednesday, I was no mood to deal with customers all day Wednesday. Apparently, it had been busy on Tuesday (frankly, I think it was less that than the managers just really wanted to leave and go to Harry Potter), so there were huge stacks of books to be reshelved, and I really did not feel like doing it.

I was so tired I got very emotional when the book being read during toddler time was about this squid that gets eaten because he's conceited. Why must all children's books be cruel???
*tear*

And I was even in less of a mood to deal with a guy who asked me if Crohn's disease and irritable bowel syndrome were the same things, and then asked if I thought this cookbook, specified for those dealing with IBS, was any good. I'm sorry. What part of "I'm a nineteen-year-old who doesn't care what's going on in her body" did you not get??? New IPT Guy who wa shelving in the corner and smirking politely at my embarrassing predicament was enjoying himself, though.

So Thursday, I'm thinking I'm golden. I'm all alone, the cafe is dead on Thursdays, and I can play my cell phone. But no. The god of free drink coupons have it in for me, and it ws hugely busy all freaking night long. I had like ten minutes to breath, and I know I didn't get everything finished on the closing list. I really, really did not care.

They felt so badly for me that they let me make myself a drink for free. Yay.

I'm not conceited enough (like that poor little squid...) to think that you all really care about what I've been reading, but it is my blog, so I'm just going to run down some of the latest.

Most importantly, Green Darkness, by Anya Seton, which teaches us the valuable literary lesson that you should never ever have guilty sex with a priest because in five hundred years when you are reborn you're still going to be paying for it.

The Secret of Lost Things was very good, as was The Starter Wife (chick lit), and Forgive Me, in that forgettable way.

Some links (mostly stolen), that I feel compelled to comment upon.

All right, these kids are just adorable. My favorite part was the "What do the little letters at the end mean? Those are the states. Oh, I'm impressed. I don't know what "wi" means..."

Teehee. Orlando Bloom laughing like a girl. Eat shit Jennifer, it's carrots!!! Seriously ROFLMAO. And I don't do that often.

Okay, so this doesn't look like it's going to suck as much as I originally assumed. I'll be there on September 21.

Not as there as I will be for Invasion, though. The creepy saint-love will not die, my friends, it will not die.

My Lolcat of the day-Hay be nice, Emokitteh is sensitive. omgsofunny.

We have muffins. I go in search of them.

We've been going for hours! I need a break!!!

Harry said that to Snape in the movie last night. I'd like you all to take a moment to consider what kind of comments a loopy Colleen would come up with at three in the morning. And you've just pictured our car ride home.

Yeah.

The Boy is scarred for life.

As usual, one of the best parts of a midnight movie is the anticipation, and waiting in line with all the crazy people who dress up. (BTW, there's a Gryffindor robe hanging in the break room at work. And it bothers me immensely.) We tried playing bullshit with Mary's very interesting NASCAR cards, but finally all the white-trashiness got too much for me to handle and it was throwing me off my game.

Apparently I'm no good at bullshit. Tell that to my boss, who thought I had a family obligation that night. Which may, in fact, come back to bite me in the ass, because I ran into her and another manager and several store employees, who were not happy that I had far better seats than they did. I didn't really feel like pointing out that while they were closing the store (typically my job on Tuesdays), I was hanging out at the theater. :D

One of the women also opened with me this morning, and we were both just kind of staring at the wall we were so tired.

So the movie was really good---definitely way darker than the first couple, and rather confusing, I thought. I'd just read the book like a week ago, so I could follow (and annoyingly point out "oh, that's wrong!" in my head), but my sister said that she was having trouble following it. I kind of felt that the ending scene with the death and the whole prophecy thing was rushed, though. I wasn't that attached to Sirius, so it's not like I needed time to grieve or anything, but they didn't really explain the whole scar thing.

But they *finally* gave Snape something to do! Rather than just stand in the back of the scene. A couple of funny lines, too. "Obviously." "I may vomit." "No idea." Teehee. Alan's funny.

Also, the occlumency scenes??? In the dungeon? At night? *fans self*

Other than Snape, the insanely overqualified adult actors did well. Luscious Lucius lived up to his name, Jason Isaacs is Teh Sexor, and Imelda Staunton was just great. I wanted to beat her over the head twenty minutes in. I actually like New Dumbledore, even if the die-hard fans don't.

My favorite character that I haven't been stalking for three years was Neville, though. Who shot up over the past eighteen months and now looks like he could take out any one of the three main actors, and yet is still playing a hapless dolt. I don't care. I love him and I want my sister to marry him. I think they'd be cute together.

I know by now I'm kind of just listing characters, but the ENTIRE Weasley clan I just adore. I love the parents, Ron is so adorable, Ginny's grown up and isn't really annoying anymore like in Chamber of Secrets, and those two older boys? So funny! "I've always thought that our futures lay outside the realm of academic pursuit." Heh.

And somehow Bellatrix escaped Azkaban and found an abandoned dominatrix outfit. That struck me as funny. A Neville and his plants picture for my sister. Who was laughing deliriously about that when she wasn't cracking "bum hip" jokes about Alan. I told you, it was an interesting ride home.

Found out that I am working next Friday when the book comes out. Not that I really had any doubt, because EVERYONE is working, but I did end up in books, which is good. I'm kind of excited, so long as everything goes all right. The part I'm not so excited about? I have to be back at nine o'clock the next morning to work a nine-hour shift in the cafe. Ugh. She must have been really pissed about those seats.

Okay. I've been up for thirty-six of the last thirty-eight hours, so I'm gonna go crash.

Adventures in Pancake-Making

Oh yes. I now make albums of my lunch preparations. How cool am I???

The reason I was forced to griddle something for lunch (Yes, it's a verb, and no, I don't love it as much as Imladris.) was that the stove (Yes, the one that costs more than my education.) has gone the way of the washing machine, van, and now other car (Yes, our new car died. Yesterday. While I was in it. On my way to work. On the expressway. Morena was NOT amused.), and is refusing to turn on or do anything remotely stove-like.

Freaking appliances. I'm going to line them up and shoot them all.

Just a little TMI warning, y'all.

I'd personally like to thank the creators of Secret Clinical Strength deodorant. I do not have a perspiration issue in the least. But hey, if it's one less thing to worry about, I figured I'd try it. Yesterday was the first full day I used it, and this is what happened.

-I woke up after having a nightmare that I was being attacked by someone who shall remain nameless but was very much named in my dream (and my head---although I'm not sure I can use that language on a family blog)

- spent some time at an oncologist's office, always a good time

- ran errands in the 90 degree heat

- had my car die on the expressway in rush hour

- have to call work and tell them that I was sitting on the edge of the expressway trying not to be hit so I'd be a little late

- switch cars with my dad so that I wouldn't be fired

- worked for four hours in a teensy cafe with three other people and NO AIR CONDITIONING

And I still smelled baby fresh at ten-thirty when I got home.

It is now right up there with McDonald's iced coffee in my book.

Harry Potter tonight.

And I'm actually really excited. All the crazies are out.

And then next Friday already is the book, which I only know because I no longer have place to put my apron in my mailbox, because it's full of random Harry memos. That I know are not going to help, because I just know something is going to go wrong and somebody won't a get a book or something and threaten to sue.

Yes, you heard me right. This is now causeing me NIGHTMARES. Gah, I should not be in customer service. I don't like customers, and I don't like servicing them.

Well, she'd have to be, wouldn't she???

Sorry. I've been thinking about Snowcake.

Two things that are of massive importance in my pitiful little life right now---

1.) McDonald's iced coffee is Sent From God As An Apology For Letting The Protestants Take Over. It is teh awesome, and only $2.10 for a large (half the price of a comperable Starbucks drink). I've had like forty-five ounces today, and I am now literally bouncing with glee.

2.) I made the Dean's Honor List. Rock on, 4.0 achieved while pretending to work, rock on.

In five years when I'm still making people coffee, I'm going to look back on this and be so proud.

What else to talk about? Hmmm.

Ooh, went out for coffee yesterday with the Empress and Mom, to the brand-new Alterra. Lovely, but I'm starting to miss our Cedarburg place where we would always go for fun. Smith Bros was better, too.

Took some pictures of the inside of Larry. Damn, Larry is huge on the inside.

The Empress had taken a shine to our griddle. She loves the griddle. She started with pancakes, and now she pretty much refuses to eath anything if it isn't griddled.

Apparently, we'll give the crown to any old crazy here in Squishistan.

It's literally raining and pouring right now, which I absolutely adore. I lvoe thunderstorms. They are amazing. I'd be very happy living in place where it just thunderstorms all the freaking time. Especially if it didn't get too hot. So basically I have to move to the United Kingdom.

I've got to go. Those episodes of Will and Grace aren't going to watch themselves.

Well now why couldn't *she* have come into work today???

Is is weird that I caress straighten these everytime I walk past them???

Which, incidentally, is a lot, as it's right next to the bathroom and I have the bladder the size of a pea???

God, I would have loved to have been the one checking her out.

I did a real update below if you care to scroll down, but this was just too good to not comment on.

Vaguely Sentimental, But More a Testament to My Nerdiness.

Entertainment Weekly came today (Transformers on the cover...boring), and Stephen King's column, which I tend to avoid because Stephen King is generally a boring person with a bloated ego who knows far too much about creepiness for my taste. Although I do own a copy of Secret Window. Obviously. But this week, it was about the end of Harry Potter, and how emotional it was going to be for the millions of people who have read them.

And I promise that this is not to discuss Harry, although as the last two weeks of entries will attest, Hi, my name is Kathleen and I'm a fangirl. I did not grow up with Harry Potter. It did not define my childhood. I promise I'm not going to cry when I read the last one, because omg this last month has been so important! (Well, I might, but only because I'm going to have to work that ENTIRE WEEKEND BASTARDS. *ahem*)

But it made me think about how I felt about the books that I really did love. I did cry at the end of Betsy's Wedding. I cried at the end of the last Nancy Drew book (I didn't read them in order, but I actually did read the last one last- I don't know why.), because I couldn't imagine that Nancy didn't have anything else to do. When I read Gone with the Wind I burst into tears and then started reading it immediately again because I couldn't bear to be without it. And Christy---I was all about Christy. Christy was where it was at.

And in more recent years (I don't cry so much anymore, really), I felt the same way about The Historian, Bridget Jones' Diary, Rebecca, Push Not the River, Bleak House, and North and South.
I totally think that characters have their own lives, too.

Yes, I am a dork.

Thus concludes this evening's vaguely sentimental portion of the blog.

Larry is still here.

I have not hit Larry.

I am pleased with myself.

I should clarify- I am not opposed to Larry. I'm very pleased that we are able to assist Mickey with her moving business by having Larry in the driveway. I am convinced, however, that I will hit Larry with one of the cars that don't belong to me, which would be...oh, all of them, because I am Teh Poor. Because I am not so good with the backing up. Actually, really bad with the backing up. And the parking. I've been driving for four years and I still need spaces on either side.

I have such a filthy mind...

*ahem*

Okay, this is going to seem really random, but it's my new favorite website.

Do you want to laugh? Really hard? At a cat? Then I have the website. My personal favorite? Im in yur gardn. Luvn ur bunniez. HAHAHAHA. *ahem*

BLASPHEME!!! YOU DO NOT DENIGRATE THE MEMORY OF MR. ROGERS!!! He clearly did NOT make us all narcissists. MTV did that.

Oooh. I smell sandwiches. I go in search of them.

Title Muse is Bloated and Sick

The Pod has been christened Larry. Larry the Pod. We now refer to it as Larry, as though it were more than an insanely huge inconvenient mouse-attracker (Yes, there was scratching in the wall yesterday. No, I' don't know why the exterminator- TO WHOM WE ARE FREAKING RELATED has not been called. Yes, I am looking for an apartment. No, you can't come, I don't like people.), and it is infinitely amusing.

I don't know. We were drinking.

Because how else can you watch fireworks? Clearly you need margarita wine coolers and a bottle of Arbor Mist.

Okay. I really am not a sexually frustrated soccer mom. Really not.

Speaking of sexually frustrated (and I promise we'll stop soon, because my dad reads this), I finished the Harry Potter books, and I completely understand why it runs all the crazy-ass Livejournal-ists' lives. They're flippin' amazing. I mean, not run-my-life amazing, but really good. I was up until twelve-thirty last night finishing Half-Blood Prince because I could not put it down.

And I have some theories.

Harry is totally a Horcrux. And he will die.

Dumbledore could possibly not be dead. Maybe. They didn't really bury him, and you know it's a better indicator of mortality if they bury somebody.

I honestly don't know whether Snape is evil or not, but I don't really care. I saw this and haven't been able to form a coherent thought all afternoon. Good, evil. Doesn't matter.

Sort of off the subject- best birthday present EVER. Borders had better carry it, because there is no way I'm waiting for amazon to ship it.

Here at chez Morena, things are going just a teensy bit strange. The Empress is barking at me, and acting inebriated. I think somebody slipped something in her drink.

Also, it is rainy and thunderstormy.

Despite what the time stamp is because I started this earlier, it's pretty late, and, as I stated above, Collee is on all fours, so I'm gonna go. Also have to work freakishly early and then I'm going to go celebrate the birth of my nation and the regrettable loss of the ability to call myself British with some rum. Woot.