Wednesday, July 21, 2010

who needs cash when you've got love?

I just spent six days in Orlando, FL at Infinitus. Since the moment I landed, I've been struggling to find the words to describe what I was seeing, thinking and feeling. My journal entries from the trip consisted of "I cannot describe how magical this was" or "how am I suppose to put this feeling into words? This struggle has continued as I've come back home and had to respond to the "how was it?" question.

How was it? What was it like to legit be at Hogwarts with some of the most amazing people I've ever met? How did it feel to scream Don't Stop Believing, watch the Harry Potter Alliance receive $250,000 and talk about how Potter has changed my life until unheard of hours of the morning?

I cannot even describe the feeling.

I am the luckiest girl in the entire world. I cannot believe that I have had the privilege to know the people that I know and to experience the things I have experienced through Harry Potter. Looking back over this trip and the past six years of my life, I wonder what I did to deserve all of this. I have been able to spend time with Harry Potter, and the people that have made this fandom incredible. The friends, the inside jokes, the stories that we all retell until everyone in our "real life" tells us to shut up. How will I ever repay JK Rowling?

Happiness that cannot be explained.

I walked through Hogsmede at night, towards Hogwarts with a butterbeer in hand. It really happened. And I hope I never forget this feeling.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

revolutionary, i know.

Even as an aspiring philosopher amateur logician (could I sound more pretentious? Yes. It's what I go to school for) I have to admit something - emotions trump logic. Always.

I was on the phone with my roommate/best friend/occasional partner in crime this evening, venting about what every other 21 year old girl would vent about - a boy. You've all been there, you all know what I'm talking about. We finished discussing his character flaws and exchanging the latest terrible thing he'd said or done and hung up. A few minutes later she txted me saying something along the lines of "you know, maybe we should just ignore the people that hurt us. revolutionary, I know."

But it really is.

Somewhere between the silly facebook messages and late nights driving in his car, all the "bad stuff" just falls away. I forget when it hurts because most of the time it doesn't. Because somehow feeling like somebody cares, like you're trusted and important is better than knowing that you're just like everybody else. It's something that we as humans crave, the thrill and rush of being somebody. So we keep picking up the phone, keep laughing at the jokes that aren't really funny, keep waiting around to finally be the exception. But it's a vicious cycle that leaves us sulking on the floor of our bedroom or blogging on a Wednesday night. And tomorrow I'll wake up and forget about feeling hurt or angry or tired and jump right back in. Head first.

And so will you.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

The view from our house on the Outer Banks.
Can we stay here forever, please?