Sat down and I wrote this…post

Well, I was going to start rereading the first Harry Potter book tonight, but when I opened to the first page I found myself daydreaming about where I was when I read each book and saw each movie, and how much my life has changed since I first discovered the books in college. After a couple of minutes of thinking I put the book down and started writing for real, and I ended up with the brain dump/essay below. I hesitated to share this here as it includes a lot of navel-gazing and it’s not my best writing, but I figured if I managed to voluntarily write a two-page essay, I might as well let a few people read it.

[TL; DR: I read the first Harry Potter book a really long time ago. The final movie comes out this summer, two days before my wedding. Things have changed a lot in those eleven years.]

The Boy Who Lived

I’m restarting the Harry Potter series tonight. I’ve read many of the books more than once (especially books 1-4, which featured prominently in my college senior thesis), but this will be my first time reading the entire series straight through. I’m doing this in parallel with three of my best friends with whom I’ve traded theories and imagined endings over the past several years, and our goal is to have each reread the full series by the time the final movie opens in July.

So, just how much has my life changed since I first met Harry?

Early spring 2000: I’m nearing the end of my freshman year of college, and I’ve just pulled one of my first nearly all-nighters finishing some sort of paper. It’s a Friday afternoon and I’m trying to stay awake to get back on a normal sleep schedule, but I’m definitely taking the rest of the day off from schoolwork. It’s a cold, windy day, so I borrow my suitemate Sara’s copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone and spend the afternoon in a coffee shop with my good friend Colette. She sketches the people around us for her art class while I finally dive into this book that I’ve been hearing so much about. By the time we head to dinner a couple of hours later, I’ve finished most of the book and I’m hooked.

Summer 2000: I land a semi-regular babysitting job for a family friend’s nine-year-old daughter. Celeste and I enjoy our evenings playing games and watching movies (including “Mystery Men,” which is highly underrated), and at bedtime she likes to be read to. Mostly we read fairy tales, but she’s a Harry Potter fan and we discuss Chamber of Secrets and Prisoner of Azkaban, which I borrow from Colette during what turns out to be my last “normal” summer. When Goblet of Fire is released, I read a couple of chapters out loud to Celeste before begging her to let me read from any other book so I don’t spoil the story for myself. (This is when I begin to realize I have a problem.)

Skipping ahead a bit: I acquire my own paperback copies (including South African editions of books 2 and 3) of the series to date by fall 2002, when I hit upon the idea of making a senior thesis out of the Harry Potter series. I’m majoring in religion, so I figure I can draw some religious ideas out of the lessons Harry learns, and for good measure I throw in the Left Behind series as kind of a fundamentalist-Christian parallel to Harry’s world of witchcraft and wizardry. While my ultimate argument feels somewhat weak (Harry Potter espouses morals that are just as “Christian” as Left Behind, so churches should stop banning it!), I’m graded well and my advisor points out that a religious scholar will be giving a talk comparing the very same books at an upcoming conference. It seems my idea isn’t totally unfounded.

Skipping ahead some more: Order of the Phoenix is released the summer after I finish college (and of course I put my name on the waiting list for friends’ copies), Half-Blood Prince comes out the very night of my last day of work before beginning graduate school (future wedding officiant Danielle and I annoy our fellow hotel guests by reading aloud at breakfast from the book procured at a midnight launch party in Pennsylvania during the first of six yearly amusement park road trips with Matt and Kat), and my pre-ordered copy of Deathly Hallows arrives, courtesy of Danielle’s parents, as I am unpacking and procuring furniture for my brand-new apartment in Seattle. I’m so busy setting up my apartment that I implore my visiting mother to scan news sites before I’ll look at them, just in case CNN or the New York Times has accidentally posted a spoiler. It takes me several days to get started, but once I’ve sent my mom back to California and opened the book I spend hours in a new favorite coffee shop finishing the series that I’d begun in a coffee shop seven years earlier.

Along the way, I’ve been going to see the movies shortly after they’re released. Some I watch in the first few days, some I see at midnight on opening day, and one I watch on Christmas night with two childhood friends since there’s nothing else to do. And now the very final movie is coming out just two days before I get married. Let’s look at that again:

Spring 2000: When I first meet Harry, I’m an 18-year-old who’s still vaguely afraid of boys, sitting in a coffee shop on a cold day in Connecticut with one of my oldest friends. I have two living parents and only the slightest idea of what I might major in, much less what I’ll do after college, much less what I’ll do after that.

Summer 2007: The final book is released as I’m embarking on what for me is a huge life step. My now-widowed mother is helping me move into my first solo apartment in a city I barely know, which I’ve moved to because I’ve managed to land a job at a company I knew next to nothing about just a year earlier. I’m scared and lonely, but for several hours over a couple of days I’m in the company of familiar characters, and when I finish the book I discuss the ending with close friends across the country whose emails remind me that I’m not alone.

And now I look ahead to summer 2011: I’ve made new friends (and kept the old), and one of those new friends turned out to be someone I’d like to spend the rest of my life with (and he picked me too, which is awesome). Eleven years ago I spent an afternoon reading with Colette; this summer she’ll be a bridesmaid at my wedding. Nearly six years ago Danielle and I read out loud to each other from the second-to-last book; in a few short months she’ll be making my marriage official. Almost four years ago Kat, Matt, Danielle and I discussed the full series in great detail; in July Matt will be an usher and Kat will be my maid of honor. I am very seriously considering potentially ruining my sleep schedule shortly before the most-photographed day of my life so I can watch the very first showing of the final installment of the Harry Potter series, hopefully surrounded by all of these people. It just seems fitting.

Part of me thinks it’s silly to draw parallels between a book series and standard life events. Lots of college freshmen have no idea where they’ll end up a decade later, and it’s certainly not unusual for someone to move to a new city and find a life partner among a new network of people. What’s unusual, though, is for a series of stories to have such longevity that it spans life stages. In the past eleven years I’ve matured from an awkward, directionless college student to an awkward, somewhat less directionless adult with one fewer parent but a future husband who embodies many of the qualities I miss most about my father. And as Danielle has pointed out, kids who first encountered Harry as pre-teens in the late 1990s will be viewing this final movie as college graduates. I seriously doubt JK Rowling had any idea how significant her modest character would become, but I’ve grown up with Harry. I’ll probably be emotional when the final movie ends, not only because it doesn’t have the happiest of endings, but also because I’ll be reflecting on how much has changed since I opened the first book. As in the series, I’ve lost some of my favorite people, but I’m ready to move forward with the ones I have left.

 

Right. Blog.

I forgot I had one of these. Quickie update, then:

I’m getting married! The planning continues, as it will until the very last minute, and I may very much regret this in the coming weeks but at the moment I am totally looking forward to making the invitations (mostly) by hand. I get to play with fonts, wording, and pictures, and last weekend I spent an inordinate amount of time in a paper store picking out the perfect combination of colors. I even got a fancy hole punch and a tape gun. I was a crafty child (I liked making things, too), so my inner 12-year-old is downright giddy that I get to play with paper and shapes and glue and even a paper cutter (which I was never allowed to touch as a kid). My outer 29-year-old is pretty thrilled, too…or she will be until the first paper cut. Pre-emptive ow.

I’m a member of the arts community! Well, so things were getting better after the disastrous choir rehearsal a couple of weeks ago, but then I skipped rehearsal two weeks ago because I felt vaguely crappy, and then I got way sicker the following weekend and barely made it through half of the next rehearsal (as an observer, even, since there was no voice for singing) before I had to go home and crash. The choir’s probably getting better, but I’m still at square one in terms of sightreading. Sigh. (Cough.)

I bring home the bacon! (Well, I bring home some bacon, but much of it gets paid out to various college loan agencies. Meh—worth it.) Work continues to be work, but I seem to be gaining some traction with other groups thanks to a well-placed friend who is awesome about passing along job postings. Even if the possibilities currently on the table don’t work out, it’s nice to be considered (seriously) and I’ll have made connections who might think of me next time. We’ll see how this one works out.

Three things happened this week

I’ve been feeling the urge to blog but haven’t had anything significant (that I wanted) to blog about, so I’ll just give you a snapshot of vaguely interesting things that have happened this week.

1. Choir rehearsals started again this week after a holiday hiatus, and it was great to see the group again but learning new music is tough. I’ve always struggled with keeping my confidence up when sight-reading, and this rehearsal was no different. Our repertoire last fall was quite easy, so it’s been quite some time since my brain has had to work so hard. It’s a good workout, but very frustrating. My fingers are crossed that we can turn last Tuesday’s mess into enjoyable music by early April. We will see.

2. Work is…work. Back in “ugh” mode. I was looking into this one thing a few weeks ago and was holding on to a little bit of hope that it might work out, but I got the official no Sunday night. So…back to square one.

3. I’m rocking a brand-new (and my first!) pair of Tom’s shoes today. They’re not the most attractive shoes I’ve ever owned (including some monstrosities in college…ah, the late nineties), but man are they comfortable, plus I get the added selfish benefit of knowing that a poor child somewhere in the world is getting their own pair because of my purchase. I noted a few days ago that Payless is starting a similar program with (what else?) Tom’s knock-offs, and I’m still trying to decide how I feel about it. I mean, it’s great that even more kids will get donated shoes, but did Payless have to directly copy their model, and (of course) charge less? It’s one thing when they copy shoes from a big company like Nike (and I’m sure I’ve bought some of those knock-offs), but I feel like the smaller companies—especially philanthropic ones—should get a break. Anyway.

It’s after 5pm on a Friday and I appear to be the last person left in the office, so I’ll end this here. Happy weekend!

A new project

A few months ago my good friend and future bridesmaid Elisabeth (who is recently married herself) were talking, and we hit upon the topic of marriage and children and how occasionally our brains and bodies would demand babies RIGHT NOW but other times we would thank our lucky stars that we were still (mostly) well-rested, (mostly) independent women. One of us (it might have been me) mused aloud, “Wouldn’t it be nice if there were a blog that just featured terrible, gut-wrenching stories about how pregnancy and parenthood could be miserable?” Our thinking was that such a blog would function as a good barometer of readiness: If you can read it and still want babies, then it’s time. If, on the other hand, the stories make you clamp your legs tight and look upon your significant other with fear, then perhaps you should hold off on the babies. Well, it didn’t appear that such a blog existed…but now it does.

Introducing So Not Ready, the blog full of stories that will help you be positive it is baby time before you take any steps to procreate. Elisabeth and I (mostly Elisabeth so far) are combing the Internets for stories that make our biological clocks skip a beat, and then we post them for all to read. (Think of it as an almost-mommy blog.) Heck, even after we start building our own families I fully expect that we will be sharing our own stories with future generations of readers who are not quite ready.

Don’t get us wrong; we love babies and children and we totally intend to raise our own families when the time is right. We just want to make absolutely certain that we know what we’re getting into before baby-making time begins, and maybe you do too. If you run across any articles, blog posts, or real-life stories that should be featured on our site, please let us know. Enjoy!

Happy (early) new year!

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged, so just popping in quickly to say that 2010 turned out to be a pretty good year (with some great surprises along the way, i.e. unexpected job satisfaction, the occasion for the photo at right), and I’m hoping 2011 will be even better. There’ll be the Big Event in July, of course, but there are other great or at least big things to look forward to: getting to know a friend’s new baby, supporting another friend as she introduces her boyfriend to her parents and gets engaged, and perhaps some career changes next year as well.

I’m a little apprehensive about creating a detailed list of the things I expect to happen in the next year just in case they don’t happen or the year sucks or something, so I’ll leave with a snapshot of the good things happening right now: there’s a mug of ice cream in my belly, a glass of mulled mead is waiting for me to take a typing break, and I’m surrounded by some of my best and oldest friends as we celebrate the new year together. Good times.

Happy 2011!

The most wonderful time of the year

Ah, December—the festive time when I come down with a voice-stealing cold just in time for a string of choir concerts; the magical days when I somehow squeeze Christmas presents, travel expenses, charity giving and the occasional treat for myself out of one paycheck; the joyous weekends when I ask my fellow drivers to please GET OUT OF THE WAY so I can finish my shopping and make it home before the snow starts and the roads become undriveable until Puget Sound’s three snowplow operators remember how their vehicles work and start sloooooowly clearing the highways. Isn’t this time of year *great*?

Annoyances aside, though, I really do like the holidays. I like that my office makes up for a lack of party budget by throwing a potluck white-elephant gift swap (even though I’ve yet to enjoy the Uncle John’s Bathroom Reader audiobook[!] that I “won” last year), I love having an excuse to bake Christmas-colored cookies, and I enjoy figuring out which decorations I can put up that our cats won’t eat or otherwise destroy. (I learned to be careful when I returned after the holiday to find that Sabrina had batted every single ornament down from the tree. I was still finding them under furniture when I moved out of that apartment last summer.) The Boy’s workgroup is having a crazy-go-nuts holiday party tomorrow, and I’m so excited to break out my awesome (but not wearable at any other time of year) bright red plaid skirt that looks exactly like a wool blanket we had when I was a kid.

This time of year also brings back memories of Christmases past—buying what is to this day my favorite holiday album (Ren & Stimpy’s Crock o’ Christmas, featuring the classics “Cat Hairballs” and “The Twelve Days of Yaksmas”), playing “Carol of the Bells” in a handbell quartet on Christmas Eve on a couple of hours of rehearsal and very little sleep since I’d just flown back to LA after finals, wearing my most festive holiday headgear while singing (croaking…I was usually sick, remember) in the Yale Glee Club concerts, singing nearly every women’s part in my high school’s and college’s respective traditional holiday concert closing songs, stumbling across “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” and/or “A Charlie Brown Christmas” on TV…yes, good times.

And then the rest of me realizes that it is only December *2nd* and it is very likely I will burn out on Christmas music by the 25th if I start listening to it now, so I’ll go concentrate on getting my voice back by Saturday’s concert. And also decide whether to wear my red plaid skirt to work tomorrow, or change into it closer to party time. Tough call.

Dresses, obelisks and cake

I bought my dress!! I took a couple of mirror pictures with a sleeve option semi-attached (I need to decide by the March fitting whether I’m having them add sleeves or making my own shrug), but I will resist temptation to post them here. It’s a great dress, though, and now I just need cute but comfortable (and ideally blue) shoes to go with it. (I should also get these arms in shape. Yikes.)

I went to DC! The Boy and I spent Thanksgiving with his family in northern Virginia (also joined by my mom, so the families have finally officially met), and since my mom had never been to DC before we did some sightseeing. No captions on these photos yet, but here’s an idea of what we saw:

Thanksgiving 2010 VIEW SLIDE SHOW DOWNLOAD ALL

I made a cake! This has nothing to do with anything except that I baked and iced a cake for Thanksgiving dessert and thoroughly enjoyed it. The Boy and I tend to get our birthday cakes from the local Chinese bakery, and they’re beautiful and light and delicious but I’m thinking of trying to recreate them at home for the next occasion. Just what I need seven months before a wedding—a new reason to bake