But it all seems very procedural.  300 inmates disappear from Alcatraz without a trace, and now they’re popping back up in 2012 where they’ll apparently continue to steal, murder, maim, and otherwise wreck havoc on society, just as they had been in the 1960s.

Enter the crime-fighting duo of San Francisco Detective Rebecca Madsen (Sarah Jones) and historian/author/comic book shop owner Diego Soto (Hurley–erm, Jorge Garcia), who have to catch these living Alcatraz ghosts.  At first, the pair do this vigillante style, with no help or approval from creepy mysterious FBI Agent Emerson Hauser (Sam Neill) and his scientist sidekick Lucy Banerjee (Parminder Nagra).  After the first case, however, Hauser offers the pair a job working for him, catching the resurfacing inmates.

It’s sort of a Criminal-Of-The-Week with a Time Travel Twist.

I’m hoping that as the series progresses, it will delve a little more into the mystery of how the inmates disappeared and who was involved in the disappearances/cover-up.

And now, gentle readers, unless you want to read spoilers for the Pilot, stop reading.

Things I Have Issue With:

1. Culture Shock.  There is none! CotW Jack has no culture shock at all.  If you were suddenly thrown from living a pretty much solitary life in a maximum security prison on an island in 1963 into present day San Francisco 2012, wouldn’t you be just a little bit thrown off kilter? Jack seemed to just jump right in.
2. Dialogue.  It was all very–expected, if that makes sense.  It was predictable.  It was all, for the most part, a steady Q&A, which I don’t have fun with at all.  There was hardly any confrontation in the dialogue and it made it kind of boring for me.  That and a good number of Soto’s lines seem like they’re directed more for/at the audience (“Is anyone else’s head exploding right now?”).
3. Procedural Feel.  This speaks for itself. While the premise is entirely unique, the execution wasn’t really.  They basically tell you what’s happening instead of showing it, which takes a bit of the fun out of it.  Like I said, I’m hoping that there’s more to what they’re going to show us and what the true mystery of Alcatraz is.

Anyway, I’m hoping they up the ante a little.  I usually give a show three or four episodes before I decide whether or not I like it enough to keep watching it.

We’ll see what happens.

I’m a chicken-shit.

It’s true.  When it comes to horror, I’m a big chicken-shit.  I’m squeamish, I get freaked out very easily, and I will scream like a 13-year-old girl (which shouldn’t be much of a surprise since I am a girl..) and I will grab the hand of whoever’s next to me, or the arm of my chair if I’m alone.  I’ll sleep with the lights on for a week after and check under my bed for whatever monster was in the movie.

It is for these reasons I refused to even consider seeing The Devil Inside after I saw part of the trailer (I couldn’t watch the full thing when that girl on the bed started contorting and breaking her bones, it was just too much.  See? Chicken-shit).

From what I’ve been hearing about it, however, it seems like the film was one big million-dollar joke.

Horror writer Miranda Saico, author of Modern Day Horrors, refuses to see it because, “1. Exorcism/possession stuff does not scare/interest me at all, 2. It doesn’t sound like all that strong or original a premise to begin with, and 3. I heard it was a disgustingly bad movie and that people who got to see it for free booed it.”

If the reviews are anything to go by, film critics agree that it was “a disgustingly bad movie.”

The question is then, how did it become such a big Box Office hit?

According to this article on “The Wrap,” The Devil Inside was such a big hit because of,  ”a combination of targeted marketing, lucky timing and the hands-on involvement of one of the biggest producers in Hollywood turned The Devil Inside from a super-low-budget orphan into the No. 1 movie in America.”

I spent my freshman year of college slowly losing my mind.

The only thing that kept me going during those dark days were the “old school” cartoons I streamed from Netflix, the ones I grew up watching as a kid.  Doug, Hey Arnold, Rugrats…they helped me power through the sleepless nights spent trying to dig up my buried ledes and swapping out periods for commas in my text.  It wasn’t until the end of my second semester that I realized that is what I wanted to do.

I wanted to make cartoons.

Unfortunately, I have no artistic skills to speak of.  My visual arts prowess consists entirely of stick figures beady eyes and wide smiles and tilting houses, complete with the little squiggles of smoke wafting out the lopsided chimneys.

And so, gentle readers, I decided I wanted to do the next best thing.  I wanted to write the cartoons.  So, before the end of my second semester of journalistic studies, I changed my major and enrolled in the Film and Media Studies program at Arizona State University.

It was by far the best decision I have ever made.  My last two years of college have been fantastic.  I’ve learned a lot of valuable skills I can use in real life at a job that I actually want.  I look forward to going to class and I actually enjoy writing most of my papers.

With my junior year almost over and my senior year fast approaching, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to what I want to do with my life.  The cartoon idea still applies—I’m a big kid at heart; in fact, I think one of my professors actually said I had the maturity of a 12-year-old sometimes.

I took that as a compliment.

After hours of research and a handful of career interest questionnaires, I’ve come to the conclusion that I want to be a children’s content producer.  I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.  It’s perfect for me.

I just don’t know how I’m going to break into that field.  I’m starting with an application for a production internship at Pixar Animation Studios.   It seems like a step in the right direction.  I want to produce children’s content, they make children’s content and are in need of a production assistant.  It’s a match made in heaven, don’t you think?  Hopefully they see that, because I would love to have the opportunity to work there and see the production process firsthand.

It would be a dream come true. I mean, really, it’d be an actual dream come true.  I am in love with everything Pixar.

My love affair with Pixar began in 1995, with the release of Toy Story.   Before that, I’d been strictly a Disney Kid, pledging my undying love and devotion to The Lion King, 101 Dalmatians, Beauty and the Beast, Cinderella, and The Little Mermaid (and those were only the most watched movies in my massive VHS collection).   Once I saw Toy Story, however, things changed.  Everything was so lifelike and, if we’re being entirely honest gentle readers, I’d often wondered if my toys came to life when no one could see.

Toy Story confirmed everything my five-year-old brain believed to be true.  Toys did come to life when no one was around and they did incredibly awesome things.

After Toy Story came A Bug’s Life and I was ready to move from a love affair into a committed relationship, just in time for Toy Story 2.

I can’t think of a better way to start a career in children’s content production than an internship at Pixar.

I’d better go finish that application… too bad I can’t make this my cover letter, I think it sounds better than, “The intent of this letter is to…”  Maybe I can rework this into something that sounds professional….

–

This last month, I’ve been managed to make it to the gym at least once a week in my quest to reduce my chest size without undergoing painful, expensive and, well, painful surgery.  It’s not having the desired results yet, but more on that in another post later, if my allergy meds don’t knock me on my ass first (Dear Santa, for Christmas this year I would really like a functioning immune system…).

I digress.

Anyway, at the start of my quest, I decided that in order to properly motivate myself to workout, I’d need music.  Music that would make me want to actually move around non-stop for at least half an hour.  So, I started reworking my iPod playlists and stumbled across this wonderful little gem someone tweeted about a few months ago.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, “They Call Me Cheeks.”

On the off chance you had a problem with that, I’d stop reading now.  If you weren’t offended by it (good for you, gentle readers!) and you would like to see more Cheekiness, you can check out Cheeks’ YouTube Channel, or just watch Husbands: The Series.

As an added bonus, you’ll also get Sean Hemeon (As the World Turns, True Blood), Alessandra Torresani (Caprica), Jane Espenson (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Firefly) and Jeff Greenstein (Friends, Will & Grace).  And maybe even a special guest appearance by Nathan Fillion and Michael Buckley.

“What is Husbands?”  You gentle readers ask.

It is a fantastic new web-series in which athlete Brady Kelly (Sean Hemeon) and actor Cheeks (himself) wake up married after a drunken Vegas weekend celebrating the passing of a Marriage Equality Law—meaning that the cliché “we-got-drunk-and-married-in-Vegas” actually works for them now because it’s legal! As they don’t want to set The Cause back with what would be a widely publicized, quickie divorce (which would typically be the norm for Drunken Vegas Weddings), they decide to make a go of it and see if their chemistry as a dating couple works when they’re suddenly a MARRIED couple.

If you’re rolling your eyes at the premise, stop.  Right now.  Just, stop.  This is much, much better than any other We-Got-Drunk-And-Married-In-Vegas story you’ve ever seen and/or heard.   Cheeks and Hemeon are fantastic together on screen, and from the promos I’ve seen (and the bit in the first episode), Alessandra Torresani is going to be hilarious in her role as Hayley, the Best Friend.

The first episode alone is hilarious.  The best part is probably when Cheeks asks Brady if he has “batting rehearsal” later and Brady looks at him with a “it’s-a-good-thing-you’re-cute-sweetie” look and informs him that they call it “batting practice.”  And it’s not just the dialogue that I loved, it’s their acting and onscreen chemistry, especially the looks they give each other at the end when they see the wedding rings (sorry, spoilers) and realize they’re married.

The second through fourth episodes are just as good (if not better, they get better as they go), but I don’t want to say too much, I want you to actually watch it.  So, if you’ve got a spare 12 minutes (more or less), saunter on over to the Husbands website and watch the episodes that are posted (or you can find them on YouTube).  The laugh to runtime ratio is phenomenal (I get an abs workout every time I watch).  It may not be a show that everyone in America is ready for, but I hope that this eventually lands a spot on primetime television.  It’s certainly better than half the crap that the networks are showing nowadays.  It’s a witty comedy about newlyweds trying to make it work.  It’s Mad About You with gays (that’s a quote from somewhere, but I can’t remember where.  I’m not plagiarizing, honest!)

They may be doing it wrong, but in this (maybe-not-so) distant future, that’s their right.

For more info, check out their website and follow them @TeamHusbands on Twitter!

I decided to attempt this myself…and stopped somewhere around Week 7.  I completely forgot I was even making a list until I found in in my documents folder a few minutes ago.  Whoops.  Instead of posting the last 3 segments, I just decided to post the 100 Things list in its entirety here.  I might go back and delete the other posts, I don’t know yet.

Anyway, without further ado, 100 things that make me happy:

1. Bookstores
2. Playing the violin
3. Rain
4. Stargazing
5. Swimming
6. Lazy afternoons
7. Good hair days (a very rare occurrence in my case)
8. My iPod
9. Classical Music
10. Clean sheets
11.  Running on the beach
12.  Cute puppies
13. Cute baby animals in general
14. Playing the cello
15. Cold Italian food for breakfast
16. Netflix (I had this on here before all the screwed up pricing and Qwikster garbage, so I’m leaving it on.  I’m afraid it doesn’t really make me all that happy anymore, just irritated.)
17. Peppermint tea
18. A really comfortable pair of sneakers
19. Writing
20. Sunflowers
21. People who make me laugh
22. The overwhelming sense of accomplishment that comes with a productive mornight
23. Exploring
24. Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups
25. Black and white movies
26. Cool hats
27. Crossing something off my List
28. My MacBook—especially after my experiences with Lazarus
29. Swinging in a hammock
30. Hot chocolate
31. My family
32. Being able to give good directions (it means I know where I am/where I live!)
33. Fuzzy socks
34. Breakfast foods
35. Handwriting letters (no one does this anymore)
36. Finding money in my pockets when doing laundry
37. Piano music
38. My friends
39. Peter Pan
40. Making new friends
41. Re-watching cartoons I loved when I was a kid (Doug, anyone?)
42. Going to the movies
43. The Big Box of 64 Crayons (you know, the one with the sharpener in the back)
44. Brightly colored nail polish
45. Libraries
46. Bras that actually fit
47. Sunrises
48. When the shuffle setting on my iPod reads my mind and plays something that fits my current mood without me having to look for it.
49. Baking
50. Blanket forts
51. Blackberries
52. When little kids get super excited about something and have to tell everyone within hearing range
53. Celtic rock music (yes, it’s a thing)
54. Getting positive comments from readers (back in the day when I actually posted creative fiction)
55. Jumping in rain puddles
56. Seeing a rainbow
57. Road trips
58. Photography (even if I’m not good at it)
59. Learning something new
60. Hugs
61. New journals
62. Reading a good books
63. Disney movie soundtracks
64. Movies that appeal to my inner-hopeless romantic
65. Sleeping with the windows open in the summer
66. Sleeping with the windows open when it rains
67. Scrabble
68. Hiking
69. Hole-in-the-wall, neighborhood restaurants
70. Making up new words
71. Walking around barefoot
72. The “eureka!” moment when I know exactly where a story plot is going to go
73. Writing sprints without distraction
74. John Hughes films, especially The Breakfast Club
75. Granny Smith apples
76. Having money in my bank accounts
77. Christmas
78. Dancing (when no one can see me!)
79. Chocolate
80. Puzzles
81. The Nutcracker Suite
82. Learning new words
83. Local Pub:  The Skeptical Chymist (yes, I’m listing this!)
84. Flogging Molly (see #52)
85. Breakfast at Tiffany’s
86. Really comfortable slippers
87. Fashion magazines (Vogue, Elle…)
88. Husbands the Series
89. Coffee (even though I’ve sworn off it, I still like the decaffeinated stuff)
90. The 90s Are All That on Nickelodeon
91. I Love Lucy reruns
92. Harry Potter—the books and films
93. Pottermore (beta testing, baby!)
94. Alice in Wonderland
95. Screenwriting
96. Comfortable chairs—the really big, overstuffed Lay-Z-Boy kind.
97. Classic Disney movies (The Lion King, Sleeping Beauty, Lady and the Tramp, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, etc…)
98. Torchwood Babiez (a must read for all Torchwood and/or Doctor Who fans)
99. Gluten free Bisquick (hello pancakes!)
100. Chocolate chip cookies

There was one I watched last night entitled “My Big Breasts and Me,” a piece that follows three women who, “are defined by their naturally big breasts” and the challenges they face with cup sizes “at the other end of the alphabet.” I never thought I’d say this, but thank God I’m only an F. I don’t think I could handle having an H or K cup, like some of the women in the documentary. I’d probably topple over from the unbalanced weight.

Two of the women wanted to reduce their cup size, like I do. Through the documentary, I discovered that there are really only two ways of doing this. The first is exercising and the second is through breast reduction surgery. Since the surgery is a) painful, b) expensive and, c) painful, I think I’ll try exercising. Again. I tried this a few months ago, and all that shrank was my waist (not that I’m complaining). My Mutant Boobs grew instead of shrinking, which I still can’t figure out for the life of me. Part of the whole “mutant” thing, I suppose.

After watching the documentary though, I’m going to take a page out of the first woman’s book and talk to a trainer about things like lifting weights and building muscle so I can at least handle all the extra weight a little better. Before I do this though, I have to get a sports bra—a new one, anyway. I didn’t realize just how important keeping the Girls supported during a workout is, but after reading an article in Fitness magazine, I’m willing to shell out upwards of $60 for a sports bra that will keep my boobs from sagging prematurely.

According to biomechanist Joanna Scurr, Ph.D., from the University of Porsmouth in the UK, a good sports bra will spare the structures of a woman’s breast and, as a result, help defend against “droop.” The internal structure of breasts are ligaments that are stretched out in a, ‘web of springy coils that are built to rebound until jumping, genetics, and gravity catch up with them.” Exercising without support means that the wear on these springy ligament coils is worsened and the breasts sag faster.

Ergo my need to buy a new sports bra. Fast.

The article mentioned that, like with regular bras, the biggest mistake that women make in choosing a sports bra is that they pick one with a smaller cup size and a larger strap size.  When testers for Fitness were sent into specialty shops and meansured, they would up wearing bras with a two-inch smaller band size and a larger cup size.  Support in a sports bra comes from the straps, and the band.  If one of these is too big, or too small, then there will not be enough support when working out.  Shoulder straps are also important to take into consideration because that’s one of the three points that distributes weight.  Back clasps are also good to have in a sports bra because they are adjustable.  Since this is where 70% of the bra’s support system comes from, it’s important that the band fit correctly.

The best way to ensure that these three support points fit properly is to get fitted and try the bra on before you buy it.  This is true for any bra, really, but it’s especially important in a sports bra because, again, poor support results in stretchy ligaments and premature sag.

Guess a trip to the mall is in order before my next workout.

Here’s hoping I see some results this time.  I’ve got to do something for this back pain!

The Order of the Phoenix is probably one of my favorites so far.  Goblet of Fire has probably been my absolute favorite, probably because of the incredible background information on Barty Crouch Jr.’s escape from Azkaban that wasn’t in the movie.  I’m noticing a a reoccurring “mother’s love and sacrifice” motif in these books.  Two completely different situations (Lily dying to save her baby, Mrs. Crouch dying in Azkaban to rescue her grown son) but the message is still the same: mothers will do anything for their children.

I digress.

I love the Order of the Phoenix.  So far, my favorite quote is Professor McGonagall’s exchange with Harry when Umbridge gives him his first detention:

‘Is it true that you shouted at Professor Umbridge?’

‘Yes,’ said Harry.

‘You called her a liar?’

‘Yes.’

‘You told her He Who Must Not Be Named is back?’

‘Yes.’

Professor McGonagall sat down behind her desk, watching Harry closely. Then she said, ‘Have a biscuit, Potter.’

–Chapter 12, “Professor Umbridge”

It seems like something that would be completely out of character for McGonagall (Harry certainly thinks it is) but, if you think about it, really that’s exactly what she’d do since no one in the castle can tolerate Umbitch–erm, Umbridge–who’s either a Death Eater or seriously messed up.

Really, who uses a torturing device like that blood quill on children if they’re not seriously evil or a Death Eater; although you can’t really be a Death Eater without being evil, with the exception being Snape, of course.

Again, I digress.

Anyway, I love this book and I can’t wait to finish it so I can read the last 2 before school starts (I’m taking a FIlm & Lit class and there’s going to be a lot of reading.  A lot.)

I’m becoming borderline obsessed.  So much so that this morning, after being rudely awakened at 5 o’clock in the mooring and having to relocate to a hotel because of major roadwork on my street, I somehow managed to remember the Magic Quill challenge on Pottermore this week.

Somehow, in my crazy, sleep-deprived induced fog, I managed to pull this off:

Success!

I immediately proceeded to do this:

Numfar! Do the Dance of Joy!

I can’t wait until I get the email telling me that I can finally access the site.  I almost died waiting for the registration email (which took hours to get, unfortunately.  which is understandable, considering 1) it’s beta and 2) the amount of traffic on this site is insane.)

Am I nerd? Probably.

A dork? Most definitely.

A huge Harry Potter fan? Hell yeah!

A witch? Well, according to Pottermore I am

When I was younger, I had a lot of health problems that resulted in lots of time spent in hospitals and lots of fun tests and scans.  My mom and I joked that, after all of the tests and scans, I should either be glowing green or have incredible superpowers.

This summer, I’ve decided that I do, in fact, have a superpower.  And it’s not a very good one either.

I have Mutant Boobs.

I was a late bloomer, you see. A very late bloomer.  I don’t think I even started wearing a bra until 7th grade.  It didn’t bother me though. I never stood in front of the mirror, lamenting my lack of chest while stuffing my training bra with tissues; I never asked for a padded bra to make it look like I had something, I was perfectly fine with what I had, even though I didn’t actually have anything.

When I did start, however, it was with a bang. A very, very big bang.

In 8th grade, I started with a respectable jump from an AA to a B.  And I decided I rather liked having boobs, my t-shirts looked a lot nicer with something to fill them out.  I was very happy with my nice, respectable B Cup.

My body, however, had different ideas.  Just before I started Freshman year, I had another outward growth spurt that resulted in my jumping another cup size.  My guy friends started realizing that I was, in fact, a girl.  And were very vocal about it, much to my girly horror.

I spent my first two years of high school with a respectable C Cup.  And, once again, my body had different ideas.  By the time I was a junior, I’d had another growth spurt that resulted in another Bra Shopping Spree; this time for D Cup bras.  The boobs I had come to accept and even grow to love were my most hated feature.

Why?

Because they had become a pain, literally.  Tiny me at 5′ 3″ and weighing in at 120″ was carrying about 8 lbs (according to my doctor) of dead weight on my chest.  It resulted in terrible back pains (not helped by my heavy book bag), neck pain, and headaches.  My only consolation was that, when I consulted my doctor about this, she said there was very little chance that they’d grow any more.

This, gentle readers, is what has lead me to believe I have Mutant Boobs.  You see, my body once again decided to do the complete opposite of what was expected.

My freshman year of high school I started having horrible, debilitating migraines.  They got to a point where, when one hit, I had to shut down all my electronics, turn out the lights, cover my window, and sleep them off in a completely dark, silent room.  I’d had migraines before, but they usually didn’t render me unconscious.

When I consulted my doctor, she suggested I get fitted for a bra, because if The Girls weren’t being held up properly, then there was a good chance my headaches were being caused by muscle strain (which made sense, because the headaches started in the back of my neck and radiated up into my skull with the force of a sledgehammer).

So, I made a trip to Victoria’s Secret and discovered something absolutely horrifying.

My boobs had grown again.  I was now a 32DD.  The back pains got worse, but, since The Girls weren’t pulling down on me as badly as they had been in a D Cup bra, the headaches abated slightly.

My boobs became a running joke between me and my friends, and occasionally my mom.  People kept telling me that women paid thousands of dollars to pump their breasts full of silicone to get boobs like mine.

“Why?” I demanded.  ”Why would someone want to have dead weight hanging on their chest that will only give them back problems and headaches?”

Take Brazilian model and actress Sheyla Hershey, for example.  Hershey set the record for the largest breasts in Brazil in 2008 (maybe even the world, I didn’t look it up).  After eight surgeries in Houston, Texas and a gallon of silicone, Hershey’s breasts were a whopping 34FFF.

And she wanted them to be bigger, something the law prohibited in Texas because only so much silicone can be pumped into breasts so as to prevent implant complications later on, including infection.  But Hershey assured reporters in an interview that she wasn’t done.

Was she successful in making them even bigger? I don’t know.  I can’t find anything online about that.  But I really hope she wasn’t because, if my pain at a 32F (there was another growth spurt just a few months ago; again: Mutant Boobs) is anything to go by, I can’t even imagine anything bigger, let alone a 34 FFF.

In this article, Dr. Andrew Haig, director of the spine program at the University of Michigan explains that the back pain is often the result of gravity saying, “A lot of times the pain is in the back of the rib cage and the spine area is because women are trying hard to arch their back so they don’t fall forward because of the weight of their breasts.”

Well, that certainly explains why my posture sucks.  If you spend so much time and effort trying to arch your back, it starts to really, really, really hurt.  I can’t sit up straight anymore for long periods of time because the pain gets so bad.

So, when women tell me that they’d kill to have boobs like mine, I usually just grimace and say I’d kill to get rid of them.  I get a lot of weird looks and questions, but after I explain the pains of big boobs, they’re usually pretty quick to reconsider their dreams of a boob job.

I can’t understand why women would want to undergo the pain of surgery to have bigger boobs that will most likely cause more pain later on in life.  I’ve read that not all big bobbed women have pain or medical problems because of their boobs, but everyone I’ve talked to who’s in the same boat as me agrees:

Big boobs aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.

Me? I stuck to my Sherlock Holmes anthologies.  I never really liked reading books that were deemed “grade level appropriate,” so I skipped anything and everything my teacher recommended and headed straight for the “Big Kids’ Books” in the library.  Looking back, I was a bit of a snob.

Ok, a big snob.

As the years went on and 11^th birthdays approached, kids were joking about waiting for their Hogwarts letters and, occasionally, some disappointed student came to class moping that they weren’t Muggleborn like they’d hoped.  I consoled my friends as best I could, having no idea what the word “Muggleborn” even meant. They were wishing Quidditch was an actual sport in PE, eating jellybeans that tasted like puke (someone offered me one of those Bertie’s Beans once and it was vomit flavored.  I never ate another one, not even when someone assured me they knew it was a “normal” flavor).   In middle school, we had a horrible substitute teacher for a month who never showed up on time.  To signal her arrival, the class appointed look out would clear their throat in an annoying high pitch voice and say “Hem hem.”  All activity in the class stopped, and I couldn’t figure out why (after starting the fifth book, I will say, the woman really did bear a remarkable resemblance to Umbridge).  After the release of the 6^th book, I saw people walking around in black and wearing RIP DUMBLEDORE shirts—I had no idea what the hell was going on.

So, my freshman year of college, I decided to remedy this and added numbers 65 and 69 to my list.  I was going to read all the books and watch all the movies, without fail. W atching the movies proved easier than reading the books, thanks to the ABC Family Harry Potter Weekend Movie Marathons, but eventually I scrounged up a copy of the first book, thanks to my friend Victoria, and read it.

The first book got me through a very dark period—the one where I was in journalism school.  First semester midterms were fast approaching and I was bloody miserable with everything.  The book had been sitting on my desk for almost a week before I decided to take a break from studying and do a little recreational reading.  It was a good thing too, because I’m pretty sure my brain would have exploded if I hadn’t.

I liked it well enough.  The concept of an 11-year-old with a horrible life being plucked out of his abusive home situation and being whisked into a magical world where fantastical things happen and he has a famous history he didn’t even know about is brilliant.  What kid doesn’t, at one point or another in their life, wish that they could be someone else or that they could have magical powers?

Harry Potter got both.  People, for the most part, love him in the Wizarding World and he’s a Wizard.

Plus, he managed to get a way with a ton of stuff no child should ever have in a magical castle, temporarily prevented an evil megalomaniac from coming back, saved the Sorcerer’s Stone, and made a couple friends along the way.  Even though he had to go back to the Dursleys in the end, a part of me went “awwww” when I was done reading.

The other wondered why I couldn’t have been lucky enough to receive a Hogwarts letter on my 11^th birthday—then I wouldn’t have to worry about journalism midterms.

I have to say though, I kind of like the movie better.  I don’t know why, but it was more enjoyable for me than reading the book.  It was the same with the second book, which I managed to pick up a year after reading the first.  Again, I liked it well enough.  Professor Lockhart’s character in the book was so much better than in the film.  And Dobby—I love Dobby.  Who couldn’t love a House Elf (except maybe Kreacher)?

But I liked watching the movie better.

Then, a few months later, I found a copy of the third book, which I only finished last week.

I loved it.

The characters are growing up now, which you can really tell in this book.  Hermione especially.  Her character, in my opinion, is starting to grow from “useful but kind of annoying” to “pretty cool.”  While she didn’t really appear to often in this one, she was crucial to the end of the book with her Time Turner and logical reasoning.  And I loved that Rowling introduced characters that could actually tell Harry about what his parents were like when they were in school.  Remus Lupin and Sirius Black are two of my favorite characters at this point.  It was a hundred times better than the movie, especially the scene in the Shrieking Shack, where Remus and Sirius explain their rivalry with Snape, why Snape hates Remus so much, and what really happened the night Harry’s parents died, thanks to Peter Pettigrew (whose animagus form is very fitting, I think).

After finishing the third one, I could wait to read the next; which I finished the other day.

If I wasn’t into the series before, I’m completely hooked now.

I’m finally starting to see what others love about this series.  My friends, and everyone else from my generation, were growing up with the characters.  Everything is becoming much more “real” for everyone, especially where the new dangers and threats are concerned.  Harry and his friends are maturing like their real world counterparts reading through the adventures would have (and still are, if the kids sitting at the next table over in the library are any indication) and they’re starting to have the same adolescent problems that readers would be facing; especially Hermione, who’s dealing with appearance issues and, what every 13/14-year-old girl has trouble with at one point or another, boys.  It’s clear that she likes Ron, but Ron’s completely clueless because, being an adolescent boy, he can’t really figure these things out yet, even if someone spells it out for him.  The same can be said for Harry, who doesn’t really figure out why Ginny can’t talk around him and couldn’t work up the courage to ask Cho to the ball before Cedric did.  Poor guy.

Fred and George also show a lot of growth that some of the older readers can relate to.  Pretty soon, they’ll be done with school and they’ll need to do something, anything, with their lives.  Their situation mirrors my senior year of high school:  you’ve got an idea of what you really want to do, and you know you could do it; but certain family members have another, completely different idea.  And then “senioritis” starts to kick in and you could really care less about anything even remotely related to school.  I like the idea of a joke shop for them;  it’s right up their ally.  I really can’t picture them doing anything else.

Rowling also addressed two really big motifs in this book that I found interesting:  equality and slavery.  The House Elves, which are an integral part of Wizarding life from the looks of things, are essentially slaves.  While some are lucky, like the Hogwarts’ Elves who clearly love what they do and have a good environment, some aren’t, like poor Dobby when he was living with the Malfoys.  I’m really happy Rowling brought Dobby back in this book (I love how he thinks that socks should be mismatched!) and that he’s the oddball in House Elf society that absolutely loves his freedom and galleon a week paycheck while the other Elves think that being free is the worst possible thing that could ever happen to them (poor, alcoholic Winky).   The situation with the House Elves also touches a bit on cultural differences and progressive thinking.  Hermione, coming from the Muggle world, has the same view of slavery most everyone in the world does: it’s wrong and a violation of basic human (or creature, in this case) rights.  Since the House Elves are human-like in the way they walk, perform tasks, and talk (even if their speech is a little weird) is very humanesque, so their enslavement and poor treatement is a problem in Hermione’s eyes.  People who’ve grown up in the Wizarding World don’t see House Elf enslavement as a problem, something that really irks Hermione who wants to try and change the system.  Then there’s the difference between human culture and elf culture, because the elves don’t see a problem with serving Wizards because that is what they are meant to do, whether they get paid or not.  It’s their lives, and it’s what they enjoy.  Even Dobby said that he didn’t want too much free time, when Dumbledore offered him vacation time as a benefit of working at Hogwarts, because elves aren’t meant to do nothing, they enjoy working.  He also accepted less money, because there’s really no need for him to have it.  So while SPEW is a creative idea on Hermione’s part, I don’t think it will really go anywhere, unfortunately.  I do, however, think that it could influence her future career—perhaps Wizarding Law is in her future after Hogwarts.

Like Prisoner of Azkaban, I enjoyed this book much more than the movie.  I especially liked the beginning, where the Weasleys tried to get through the fireplace in the Durselys house and got stuck because it’s an electric hearth.  Even better was the Ten-Ton Tongue Toffee scene where Fred(?) dropped the candies on purpose so Dudley would eat one.  I don’t remember anything like that in the movie, and I really wish it had been because it was one of my favorite scenes.

So, that’s where I am with the books.  I’m halfway through The Order of the Phoenix, so I might post something about that so far.  Overall, I think I’m going to like the last couple of books a lot better than the movies, especially because this is where things in the series really start taking off.

While I may not have been swept up in the Harry Potter Phenomenon in the third grade, I’m certainly caught up in it now.

Better late than never, right?

Well, better late than never, right?

I read the first two books last year and liked them well enough.  I still wasn’t really that into it though.  I can’t really figure out why, but something just didn’t seem to click for some reason.

The third book however kind of changed that.  I couldn’t put it down.  I liked the third movie when I finally saw it, but the book was so much better.  There was so much background in the book that wasn’t given in the movie that I found myself liking the characters a whole lot more.

I think that’s one of the biggest problems in doing book to film adaptations.  So much characterization can be lost between the manuscript and the screenplay that, at times, likable characters are only just that–likable; and you find yourself caring a lot less about them on the screen than you would in print.  Hermione’s character in the books is a lot like that for me.  On screen, her character is likable, even funny at times (I’m thinking specifically about the polyjuice potion in the 2nd movie and the potions class in the 6th movie where hair/makeup did a fantastic job giving Emma Watson “Medusa Hair.”)  But her character in the books is almost completely different, there’s a whole other dimension that Rowling put into the character.

It seems this way with a lot of the characters, actually.  I can’t put my finger on it yet, so I guess I’d better start the fourth book and try and figure it out