"Please chase a peony, love"

I'm going to make a confession: I don't always do the greatest job of looking on the bright side. I realize this isn't the most ridiculous thing in the world since there are a lot of people who tend to be self-proclaimed "realists" [ c'mon, in all honesty that's just an excuse to be a negative Nancy ] and don't always consider the glass half full. However, a huge part of my motivation to revamp this blog was to change the name to Chasing Peonies, which was actually a metaphor for me to lean more towards optimism on a daily basis.

I used to be a bubble of flowers and butterflies, hopes and dreams. But somewhere along the way, for a myriad of reasons that need not be delved into, I transformed into a dark hole filled with nothing but shrewdness and negativity. While I've since come out of that [ thank goodness ] , a small part lingers and threatens to take over when I lose sight of what is so good and real in my life now. In fact, it probably comes out more than I realize, considering all too often Justin will encouragingly remind me to change my attitude with one simple phrase: "Please chase a peony, love."

"If you can see this, my invisibility cloak isn't working."

It's the end of an era, as people are saying.

Look how much they've changed!



[ Amy has a much better display of all things Harry Potter in her latest posts, my favorite being the age comparisons of key characters ]

Upon leaving work at about 9:05pm last night, I zipped right on over to the McDonald's to pick up two of their [ absolutely fantabulously delicious ] caramel mocha coffees for Justin and me with hopes that the caffeine would carry us well into the wee hours of the morning. After that, I rushed home to take out and feed the dog, change into comfy clothes [ which were not part of some sort of costume ], gather our candy and drinks for smuggling into the theater, triple-check that I had our will call ticket retrieval information and impatiently excitedly awaited Justin's arrival home. Around 9:48pm I heard his garage door open then in a flash at 9:57pm we were off. And here's a perk to living in a smaller city - we were in the movie theater's [ already jam-packed ] parking lot less than ten minutes later.

Harry's sister?

A lot of people around my age have a story regarding their introduction to Harry Potter, usually occurring around the tender age of 10 or 11, about the same as that of Harry himself when this series began. I'm a part of that lot.

I'll never forget answering the phone after walking home from the bus stop:

"Have you heard of this new book, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone?" asked my dad.
"Uh, nope...definitely does not sound like my type of book..." I replied.
"Alright, well, I'm at Barnes & Noble and they have it here, so I'll just bring it home for you and you can see if you like it. Apparently it's getting pretty popular."

When Dad came home from work, he handed me [ in what my 5th grade mind perceived as ] the biggest, heaviest piece of reading material I could ever imagine myself attempting to conquer. Up to that point, I'd buried my nose in Babysitter's Club and other various "pre-teen-girl-geared" paperback hand-me-downs from my three older sisters. Looking at that hardcover with this boy flying on a broom and a close-up of " wait, is that a lightening bolt on his head?" made me skeptical - yeah, I was judging the book by its cover.

Three days later, I finished the whole thing.

I loved it. Devoured it. Could NOT wait for the next installment [ little did I know I'd have to wait a whole year - otherwise maybe I would've taken my time!]. Not to mention the fact that at the time we shared the same last name - aaaaand little did I know that that would haunt me until the day I got married and got a brand spankin' new one. Wherever I went, whomever I talked to on the phone for some sort of customer service, whenever teachers called my name or I met someone new, it was always followed up with a variation on the same question: "As in Harry Potter?" I think the worst was when people from foreign countries would look at my passport, chuckle, then in somewhat broken English say, "Ohh, Harry's sister!" All I could ever do was politely smile, though in my head I had to ask, "Do they truly think that's the first time I've heard that?!"

Anyway, following the first book, I'm pretty sure I managed to get my hands on each of the next six the same week [ if not the day after ] that they were released. I never went to any of those midnight release parties at bookstores, but my mom would always somehow manage to get one for me. When that last one came out in the summer of 2007, I was actually working abroad in Central America and could not for the life of me find one to buy in an airport [ sold out, you see ]. When I arrived back home, I was greeted by a copy left in my room by my mom...though I couldn't bear to start reading what I only knew was the end of this long journey. Eventually after a month of having it just sit and stare at me on the shelf in my dorm room, I opened up book #7 and read to my heart's desire until the very end [ although I took my time with this one, and it lasted a week and a half ].

I never got into the movies very much - I still haven't even seen the sixth one - though I am excited to say that Justin and I just got tickets for the part two of the final movie. Yes, we will be joining the ranks of all the other HP crazies and attending the midnight showing on opening night, July 15.

Okay, I was just about to write about how sad I am about this over-a-decade-long relationship coming to an end and realized this is actually way too long of a post to write about my affinity for all things Harry Potter.

I'm kind of embarrassed now.

Don't judge.

NPR