It's Hfriday! HURRAH! It has been A. Week. and then today was A. Day. on top of that. In honor of International Women's Day, I have a Lady Confession for you all, which is that I occasionally feel superior because I do not have Monthly Lady Problems, and while I try to offset my internal chortling over how free I am of Girl Troubles by preaching the Magic of the IUD, it's definitely an unattractive quality. Scientists will tell you that it's never been proven that women who hang around each other sync up, but women will tell you that particular group of scientists are bollocks. I can tell when someone is on the rag after hanging out with them for 15 minutes, because my uterus is all, "what's SHE doing over there? That looks like FUN!" and I am all, "THAT IS NOT WHY WE DO KEGELS, self!"
Basically what I'm saying is that I count it as a personal victory that I only cried twice at work today.
And then I came home and did what any reasonably sane person would do: poured a bowl of comfort olives, a giant glass of wine, knocked back a bunch of ibuprofen, and sat down to write about the last totally happy chunk of Harry Potter.
I had forgotten how much I love this section of GoF. How genius is the title of Chapter 21? JK's description of how helpless boys must feel about girls traveling everywhere in groups is so wonderful; she captures the bewilderment they must feel when they first realize that girls are... Girls. I've always been a little bummed about Hermione's debut at the Yule Ball - because make no mistake, that is what was going on there (especially for Ron)
because Emma Watson has always been an obviously pretty girl even under her "bushy hair" form the first movie, and in the book, Hermione looks so different from her usual self that Harry doesn't even recognize her. And then afterward, she goes back to her usual routine, because she doesn't care enough about her looks - even after she's validated by all the Slytherins - to work so hard at it. We could all stand to take a leaf out of Hermione's book once in awhile, I think. *looks sideways at her morning routine*
Plus, how great is it when she tells Ron off afterward?
GoF is where JK's ability to write adolescents really shines. They're funny and gross and ridiculous and weird and still don't quite know what's funny and what's offensive, they yell at adults (so much yelling at adults!) and throw fits and don't know why they're doing half of what they're doing, and JK captures it all in a few well-written chapters that might as well have been titled, "Remember What it was Like to be Like This?"
You'll have to forgive me - the ibuprofen is making me sentimental. Let's take a turn for the What Bothered Me:
I know the Bandwagon of Dobby Loathing is pretty well populated. But dudes, he knitted Harry socks with broomsticks and snitches on! Do you know how difficult that is? I am a Reasonably Accomplished Knitter (and even More Accomplished Yarn Buyer); I have made shawls that stretch to SIX FEET square (that's almost 2 meters, Laura) out of what is essentially thread. I make garments that can be worn multiple times without falling to pieces. And yet Dobby the House Elf can knit a pair of intarsia socks - a technique that scares me silly - and Harry has the GALL to say that his other presents are more satisfactory! And then RON, whose mother knits all of his siblings a sweater EVERY YEAR, just gives it away.
What the fuck. Knitting is not hard, but it takes a long-ass time! There is genuine love in every stitch of those garments, and you're just throwing them away! BE GRATEFUL, you little pricks.
Wine makes me shouty.
Ok, moving on. The moment when Percy runs into the lake, robes and all, looking "younger than usual," is so sweet. You're not often a Good Brother, Percy, but it makes me happy when you are.
Seriously, Sirius? Snuffles is the best you could come up with? Wandering around talking about SNUFFLES as if he were a PERSON whose parents chose THAT NAME certainly isn't going to raise some eyebrows. Why didn't you just have them refer to you as "Lee"?
