Level Up!

The nerdy guy I've been pining for the last few posts? Yeah, he asked me out. It was kind of adorable, really. We do this thing- it's sort of like a game- where when the conversation begins to wane, we'll ask each other questions. The questions asked range from "Favorite ice cream flavor?" to "Koopa Troopa or Diddy Kong?" to "If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?" to "Which do you value more, intelligence or sense of humor?"

We'd had a bit of an, er, "exchange" earlier in which he called me pretty, so one of the questions I asked was, "Do you actually think I'm pretty?" He answered yes. My next few questions were fairly arbitrary. I told him it was his turn to ask questions. His first question was one he'd already asked in the past (ice cream flavor).

Then, he asked what I would say if he were to ask me out on a date (hypothetically speaking). I told him I'd say yes, "hypothetically speaking," of course. Then he asked me out (realistically speaking, that time). And I said yes.

And then we spoke of flan.

I Wish I Was a Yippie

A while back, Xeno lent me Abbie Hoffman's book Soon to be a Major Motion Picture with the condition that after I read it, I would give it to our school's library. I'm not incredibly ashamed to say that I have not held myself to my promise. It's a really good book. I intend on finding a copy at McKay's or a similar bookstore and giving that to the school library.

Anyways, the book kind of opened my eyes. Things happened in the sixties and seventies. The anti-war movement, moves for free speech, the Chicago Eight! Not to mention the levitation of the Pentagon, Pigasus, and the throwing of money into the NY Stock Exchange.

I'm at work doing nothing- for there is nothing for me to do- so I defaulted to Wikipedia mind-expansion. I read the entire article on Abbie Hoffman as well as the article on Yippies, and now I really wish I'd been born in the mid-forties so I could've been a part of everything that happened during the sixties.

Retarded Child With a Hunched Back

I was rooting through the desk in the back room at my dad's house like the eccentric busybody that I am (hey- I live there once every few weeks, I have a right to look through desks, right?) and found a DVD that I don't believe has been touched since the end of my seventh grade year. My Gifted DVD from the seventh grade.

You could probably use a little bit of background information. I will provide that. Gifted was where they stuck the obscenely over-intelligent kids who didn't really fit in (okay, so maybe that isn't the official description). The program was later renamed Horizon, which Mr. Z (Z being short for Zajdel, the surname of the fucking awesome teacher I had for Gifted) said he came up with while passing a gas station or some such thing. Moving on. On Thursdays and Fridays, for one class period- about forty minutes total, I believe- we, the geeks and nerds who will someday rule the world, got to leave Normal Class and go to Gifted. Yes, the capital letters are meant to be there.

During the second semester of the school year, each Gifted class (we were divided up by grade; all the seventh-graders were in one class, all the eighth-graders in another, etc.) got the chance to make a movie. In sixth grade, my class, which was comprised of about seven students, made (well, attempted to make) four movies. My personal favorite- the one I still get compliments on today, four years later- is titled something along the lines of The Adventures of Mustache Lady and G/T/S Man, G/T/S Man meaning Grandpa/Teacher/Superhero Man. G/T/S Man was a BAMF, in case you can't tell. There was something about a Holy Cow in that one.

Anyways, I've lost my DVD from that year, but Mr. Z, whom I still visit occasionally on Thursdays and Fridays when I can get the hell out of my fourth period, has promised to hook me up with another copy.

But I found the DVD from the next year. Seventh grade. Our movie- an entire eleven minutes long- was called The Stolen Keys. Rosie was a huge player in that one. I believe I had one line throughout the entire thing. Rosie didn't like what I did with the script, so she edited it until it was how she wanted it. I suppose you could say I'm a little resentful. Moving on.
I watched it with my good friend Katie last night (rather, this morning... it was two in the morning). We cracked up. Our dear friend Tyler's voice had not yet deepened at that point, and he was going through his Monk phase. Our friend Sarah had short hair. I was... well, I looked like a retarded child with a hunched back. I mean, it was bad. I'm surprised my mother let me out of the house like that. Jesus.

10 Reasons I Adore Harry Potter

The series, not the character. I mean, I adore Harry himself, but in the title of this post, I meant the entire series- books, movies, fanfiction. Everything. JKR, Dan Radcliffe, Emma Watson and her new haircut. I mean everything.

1. I've grown up with it. My mother handed me the first book when I was six years old and said, "Read this." I suppose she'd heard of it somewhere and decided that her voracious reader of a little girl would adore it. I loathed it at first, insisting "It's a grown-up book!" Thank God she made me finish it.

2. The characters are realistic. Dumbledore doesn't do everything right. Harry's an angsty bitch. Hermione is... well, a total nerd. And Ron's a dipshit sometimes. Each of the characters has his or her own plethora of faults- some minor, some major.

3. Lots of people die. And I mean that in the least awful way possible. Really. I learned through the books that good people die eventually, and so do bad people. Everyone dies. Thankfully, I didn't learn this slightly depressing lesson until, y'know, the fourth or so book, otherwise I would've been emo at the age of twelve.

4. JKR's writing style is bitchin'. I mean, seriously! That woman can write! She's never been an eleven year old boy, or a twelve to eighteen year old boy, but she can definitely get into Harry's head and write as he would think and speak.

5. I learned about patience. When you have to wait a year and a half between books, or two or three years between movies, you start to figure out that patience is indeed a virtue. 'Nuff said.

6. Rereading the books is fun. I swear to God, every time I reread Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, I find some line I don't remember from the other dozens of times I've read it, and I chuckle quietly to myself, a habit that is certainly not helping me convince my mother I'm not schizophrenic.

7. Daniel Radcliffe. Do I need an explanation for this one? He may not have green eyes, but damn.

8. The characters are relatable. When I was younger, I wanted to grow up and be Hermione Granger- then I realized, I'm already her! Everyone has a character they can relate to. Some days I feel like Granger, others I feel like Snape, but I can always find a character I can sympathize with.

9. I have fellow fangirls and fanboys. Harry Potter has the biggest and most loyal fanbase I've ever seen. Try insulting Harry Potter in front of any one of us- you will wish you had never been born (or at least never done it), I promise. If we don't cut off your head and make you eat it (supposedly impossible, but we Potterheads have our ways), we'll at least make you miserable.

10. 'Cause I can, dammit. This is how I end top-ten posts when I can't think of a tenth thing to put on the list. Heh.