Harry Potter.

Last night was the release of Part 1 of the "Epic Finale" of the Harry Potter saga, and indeed it was Epic. It seemed oddly fitting that this particular film ended up being the first Harry Potter midnight premier that I attended outside of Arizona, and as I left the theatre I seemed capable of saying very little other than "Damn, DAMN!"

As excited as I was for the film, I was also extremely sad, this film really does represent the begining of the end of my childhood. So long has my life been influenced and inspired by J.K. Rowlings novels & characters and the subsequent film adaptations. The first American version of a Harry Potter book was published in 1998, and I read my first Harry Potter (number 3, The Prisoner of Azkaban) not long after when I was in the third grade. 

Fifth grade was when I became thoroughly obsessed, not without the encouragement of my two best friends. (Shout out to Ben, who I hope saw the Part 1 even though he is in Korea!) I related particularly well to the novels of the lost little boy with this double life he didn't know about, because of these two best friends. As mentioned in an earlier post, my best friends growing up were a set of twin boys, and together we created our own little Harry , Ron, and Hermione trio. Much like the group in the books, my two friends helped keep me going each day with their support, their family as a whole becoming my own version of The Weasleys.

With the release of the first Harry Potter movie in 2001, my love for the characters grew deeper, now they weren't just figures in my head, but real living characters I could share and watch with others.

Do the math, Harry Potter has been such a force for over half of my life. The books were released over a period of just under ten years (with the final novel, number 7, being released in 2007). With every successive release of books four through seven I devoured the words on the page, repeatedly. I dressed up to attend the midnight release parties and ordered the each online as soon as it was allowed, I even went so far as thievery, stealing the first three books from my older sister who had gotten them as presents, but had never actually read them.

By the time that Part 2 of Deathly Hallows is released next year the films will have also spanned ten years of my life.

Leaving the movie theatre at 2:30 on Friday morning a discussion ensued about how important Harry Potter really has been to my generation. We could think of no other generation that was bonded together for so long by one thing, let alone one series of books. The conclusion was made that while those both older and younger than ourselves may enjoy Harry Potter, it will never mean as much to them as it has to  us, to the ones who literally grew up with Harry, Ron, Hermione and all of their peers at Hogwarts. Because of this I do hereby (un)officially claim the Harry Potter saga as the marker for my generation, for us who devoured thousands of pages about The Boy Who Lived, while learning how to live ourselves.

Thanks for reading,

Birdy

Someday

Someday I will have an apartment. In it will be a vast, eclectic, collection of cereal, and a dog. The dog's name will most likely be stolen from the obscure depths of some piece of literature, that in bringing back to the surface in the form of a dog's name will show just how intelligent I am. There will also be a large collection of books, and if I have any self-will, there will be no TV, or at the very least a small, out of date, awkwardly placed television in the kitchen, just so that I can watch the news while eating breakfast, which I will eat several times a day, thanks to my impressive cereal collection. There will be orchids in the window panes, and perhaps, another person or two strategically placed down the hall to stave off loneliness.


Today I borrow a dorm. It is not my home, but instead a small box in which I have packed a few possessions and myself for storage until Someday. I have a penguin whose name Zeus, was chosen by a stranger and copied at his feet, and a dinosaur named Felicia who wears her price tag as if it were a pendant, around her neck. I have two boxes of cereal, one is empty, and by tomorrow morning the other will be as well. Books are numerous, but most have been read several times or are purposefully neglected due to their connections with my classes. I have more screens than I approve of, and can't seem to help but feel that the stranger who shares my box is an invader, coming in to condense my life even further. There is no kitchen, there is no art on the walls save for a small fiber glass flower. The rest hides in a suit case, the small box and its occupants are not worthy of the presence of art on the walls. There are no orchids, and the blinds to the window seem permanently drawn shut. The only other body causes resentment, it reminds me that I am not alone, but does nothing to fight the loneliness.

New Post Coming

There will indeed be a new post coming. The blog stork will probably drop it off sometime tonight or early tomorrow. Until then I got you some pictures to tide you over.

These are nothing much, just a few shots I've snapped this semester. I figured I'd give you something nice and simple to help you prepare yourself for tonight's rant!