polywolly

I noticed. Three identical reviews in three days, on stories she'd already reviewed. One was a clearly marked one-shot. Did I say vacillating-between-one-and-possibly-more-shot? No. I said one. One. Shot. Now stop asking for more!

Well, good to know I'm not the only one with fussy ears. I voted no piercing, no tats. Now, my husband has both. Three piercing in one ear, two in the other, two in his nose, and three tattoos. I had my ears pierced many years ago, but they refused to heal. We tried everything, my Mom and I, and then, after the 20th attempt to get the post through the front hole and then hunt for the hole in the back, my poor Mom had to take a break between ears. The look on her face, that "I can't stand hurting my child for the sake of vanity" nausea, I gave it up and let them close up. Like Madapple, I took it to mean that I wasn't meant to have piercings. Now, I've considered tattoos. Actually, I like the idea of a quote, maybe some lyrics I've written. Maybe someday, when I have something I like enough to carry around on me forever. Thank god I never got that "I *heart* Pep Band" tat. Madapple! I like your tats as well, and add my name to those requesting a pic.

Thank you for the "MacGyver" Trae mental image. "What . . . your car won't start? In that case, I'll need a pencil eraser, three rubber bands, half a Dixie cup, and a cheeseburger." As far as my own mental health goes, I think I'm pretty normal in that I have fears and moments of depression, and feelings of inadequacy from time to time, and I wash my hands a bit more often than most, but then I used to work in a restaurant and I picked up the habit of washing more often than just after using the toilet, and I've heard the occasional voice, but I don't see anything wrong with the voice in my head speaking in a voice different from my own, I mean, for several months my thoughts had a Scottish accent, and I haven't seen a name given to that particular disorder just yet, so yeah, I have rather normal abnormalities. Wait, I think I have Run-On Rambling Sentence Syndrome. I also think someone should develop Synonym Syndrome, more commonly known as Alternative Word Disorder. More seriously, depression runs in my family (stark-naked most of the time) so I’m very aware of my emotions. I’m guilty of the occasional “I better not go to work or I’ll get myself fired” sick day. When you wake up, look at the alarm clock, and say, “Fuck you and your little 9 volt battery,” you know, perhaps, it’s better not to inflict yourself upon the world at large.

I voted for Deathly Hallows. It answered more questions than it asked.

Thanks, Eve. That was entirely called for. Casting rumors, still not true.

I am finished with my (sort of) review of DH over in books. I am still giggling at Daz's spoiler alert. I am with Nan, but I think I feel weird (-er than usual) because the series is over. I am admitting to feeling heartened, and just a little bit, when I read news of the HPE. I am a little concerned about Red's plot-bunnies and suggest he have them tended to by a certified plot-bunny veterinarian, which I just happen to be, didn't you know?

Okay, here goes... SPOILER : I knew there would be death. It is war, after all. Still, I don't think I was quite prepared for what I found. Hedwig?! Oh, dear. I knew that didn't bode well. Then Mad Eye? I was like, "Let me get to page 100 before you start making me weep!" But really, I held myself together. I was quite proud of myself. I wasn't going to weep like I did at the end of HBP... Until Dobby. Ron took off his shoes and socks for him, for Merlin's sake! Favorite bits? I loved when Kreacher smacked Mundungus on the head with the copper pot. Suddenly I wanted to give little Kreacher a hug. And when he led the Hogwarts house-elves to battle I cheered out loud. I positively adored Molly for calling Bellatrix a bitch and then totally kicking her Voldy-loving ass. I will worship CAPS LOCK MOLLY forevermore. Fred, Lupin, and Tonks just shocked me. I think I've repressed the memory. Snape, though. Damn, what a way to go. Why am I not bothered, you ask? No portrait in the Headmaster's office. Maybe he survived, and I'll cling to that tenuous hope until the Harry Potter Encyclopedia gives me every bleeding detail of Snape's funeral. I somehow believed Harry would live. I felt similarly about Frodo. If they died, then everything they did was for nothing. Okay, not nothing, they did save the world after all, but I always rather hope the hero gets a nice vacation at the end of all that world saving, not a one-way ticket to the afterlife. In Harry's case, after his horrible childhood, his life is threatened...oh...on a semi-weekly basis, then what... He dies before he's ever even known the touch of a woman?! Okay, melodramatic, but true! Alas, the trio survived! And married... And made an Albus Severus Potter, which was sweet, but kind of disturbing. Can you imagine the look on Snape's face? Then again, the boy's initials spell ASP, so he'll definitely be in Slytherin. All things considered, I was very pleased with the book. It rounded off the series nicely, answered a hell of a lot of unanswered questions, and left me wanting for just a little bit more. So bring on the HPE! I want pictures of the body!!

I was just at MuggleNet to read about the HPE and discovered that the casting rumors are not true. It's a shame though. I'd love to imagine Joseph Fiennes as, well, anybody. I'd even accept him as a random house-elf, aptly named Sexy, wearing nothing but... Damn, my mind wandered into Dirtyville again. Anyhow, sorry to disappoint. *returns to naughty Joseph Fiennes fantasy involving tea towel worn as loin cloth*

No, sorry. No McMeany cookie for you. Mad?

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I am happy that only XXIII days remain until I get my copy of Deathly Hallows. I am contented because it annoys those I live and work with that I've been counting down in Roman numerals. I am sure that Madapple would be proud of my Roman numeral prowess of late. I am going to bed now. Night all! I am REALLY going to bed now.

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Who can resist a good fill-in-the-blank? Please excuse the rambling nature of my thoughts... 1. What is homophobia? Homophobia is a fear of homosexuals or homosexual behavior. Most fears, in my experience, stem from a misunderstanding of whatever causes the fear. A phobia is, as Nan so helpfully posted, an irrational fear. Take a fear, make it irrational, and mix in several misconceived notions and you get a dangerous combination. I know several people who think homosexuality is wrong, and they aren't homophobic. They have an opinion and I respect that. I also know several people who are homophobic. Why would I call them homophobic? Because they think that any and all homosexuals will try and convert straight people into gay people. (Irrational, anyone?) These people also seem to think that all gay people are promiscuous, or all gay people carry at least one STD, or homosexual people have a mental disorder that makes them feel and think the way they do. 2. Am I homophobic? No. To paraphrase Rubeus Hagrid, that's all codswollop, in my opinion. Homosexual, heterosexual, and bisexual are labels. I'm proud to say I see people, not labels. As with all things in my life, it boils down to coffee. I could never hate or judge someone because they like sugar and cream, or just sugar, or just cream, or if they take their coffee black, or if they don't like coffee at all. Should we segregate Starbucks just in case the sugar people are afraid the creamer people will try and cream their coffee when they're not looking? 3. Should we use this term to describe the prejudice? Maybe not, but as an irrational fear that affects a person on a base level, perhaps making them a danger to themselves and others, sure. Xenophobia is the fear of foreign people. That's the only one that comes to mind just now, but I'm sure there are other phobias that define a fear of other people or groups of people. Hate is one thing, fear is another. However, fear breeds hate, so making the distinction between a genuine phobia and a prejudice seems like trying to walk a very fine line indeed.

Icky Thump - White Stripes (And up next... Paid to Get Excited - Butch Walker)

I am hoping Alexander and Daz are enjoying their cuddle time. I am trying to find a new pic for Mr. Rickman for my sig, but it's proving difficult. I am sleepy, but not too sleepy, yet.