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.

Meet The Pod

How lovely. It's beautiful, isn't it???

I'm not sure what's in it. Perhaps the black/blue/white/wicker/pink with purple dots/back to black furniture for Mickey's prospective morning room? I lost track after the sixteenth color change.

Yes, folks, call that number and you too could have your very own massively large storage device in the middle of your driveway. You know, with the BOAT and THREE CARS. Something's gonna crash before this is over. I just know it.

Good lord I love that movie. And not just because Mr. Darcy is teh hawt, because he's kind of arrogant looking (shut up, I know Mr. Darcy is supposed to be arrogant because he's *duh* Mr. Darcy, but this is different). I think I'll have to dig out the DVD soon.

I was off today (*whee*), surprising as they seem to have taken the whole "Um. Yeah. Fifteen hours tops," to mean "Of course I can work full time without being salaried. Why not?", and it's starting to bug me. Maybe after Harry Potter gets released I can cut back. Because I'm pretty sure without Harry dear we'd be out of business.

I used my time off to run important errands like returning clothes and buying spray bathroom cleaner and Advil Cold and Sinus (I can no longer move my eyes because my headaches are so bad). I know you're all exceedingly jealous. Yes, my life is pretty glamorous, but remember, I'm just like you.

Now I feel like baking something. I shall be making oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and pumpkin bread. Look for an update on what is sure to be a hilariously inept attempt at domesticity tomorrow. :D

Apparently the plumber is coming. And I have been left alone to tend to him. Nasty. I hate letting workers in. They bug me. I'm convinced they're going to steal. And then they'll ask something that I should totally know, like is your basement drywalled? and I get so confused by anything that isn't a book or a movie that I'll be all, "What? I don't know...." *sigh*