Tuesday, July 17, 2007

My One-hundred-and-fourteenth Post

Just for you, a recap of how I first read each of the Harry Potter books:

1&2: I had heard about the books from one of my teachers who had been reading the first book aloud to one of her classes. When I saw them for sale at Costco, I talked my mom into buying the first two. (This would have been in 1999, just after book 3 was released. I was 13)

3: Martin and I had devoured the first two books, so we were very happy when my mom brought home the third book a few weeks later. I was very excited, and in order to ensure that the book would be "mine," I promised Martin she could read it first if it could belong to me. After we made this agreement, I found out my mom had bought the book for me, and it would have been mine no matter what. I started reading the book whenever my sister put it down, creating issues when we both wanted to read it at the same time. One night, I was babysitting a neighbor kid, so I had brought the book with me. Martin showed up at the house, demanding the book back.

4: This was the first of the books that I actually read on the day it was released. I woke up that morning, convinced my mom to give me the cash, and then had to beg my brother, Menace, into driving me to get it (we ended up going to a little toy/bookstore nearby).

5: For book 5, my mom ordered the book online, for same day delivery. It was supposed to get to the house by 10am, so I slept on the couch, so I could be the first to see the delivery person when it came. It didn't come before 10, though. In fact, by 2pm, I was very distraught. Luckily, pretty much all of my siblings were into the books by this time, so my parents figured it was worth it to buy a second copy. My dad went out, and returned home triumphant with the book by about 3pm. The other copy didn't come until about 6pm that night. I took the book and pretty much read it all night, falling asleep just before 6am, then getting up at 7:30am to finish the book, and go to church at 9am. Martin was forced to read aloud to the rest of my family for the next week or so, so they could all hear it at the same time, instead of fighting over it.

6: This came out the summer after my freshman year of college. I was home that summer, so I was able to take full advantage of the situation. I illegally stocked my bedroom with wheat thins, licorice, fruit snacks, and Pringles. I had carefully timed my sleep schedule so that I could stay up as long as necessary. I also finally convinced my parents to put a locking doorknob on my door. I went to sleep at about 9pm. My mom and older brother went to good ol' Wal-Mart just after midnight, and left my copy of the book outside my bedroom door. When I woke up at 6am the next morning, I was able to open the door, squeal in delight, and seclude myself in my room until I was finished reading.

7: I’m not sure exactly how this will go down. I’ll be at the Grand Canyon this weekend, so it might get a bit complicated. As near as I can tell, it pretty much involves me, Martin, and Mean Mommy (and perhaps a brother or two) ditching out on our family reunion, and driving for an hour out to Flagstaff in the middle of the night to pick up several copies we’ve reserved at the local Barnes & Noble. Martin will most likely be forced to read aloud to us for the drive back (I can’t read while driving… stupid car sickness) to the campsite. Then my mom has promised to bring us each our own personal light sources so that we can retire to the “reading tent” and not run down the batteries in the cars. There will be a Harry Potter breakfast the following morning, and it is likely that Martin will once again be forced to read aloud to the younger kids (because she’s so good with the voices “Hawy!"). Hoorah!

Saturday, July 14, 2007

My One-hundred-and-thirteenth Post

I don’t think we should blame others when things go wrong, and I’d like to think I’m okay with the “buck” stopping here. But… does that mean I have to pretend I’m an idiot?

Somebody I was working with today managed to make a huge mess while trying to show off for me (I’ve gone over it several times in my head… but really, there isn’t any other explanation for what he was doing). Anyway, I sent him off to work in another area so I could fix things up. Several people (including a couple of my supervisors) came by, and asked about what I was doing. I had decided that I was absolutely not going to say “So-and-so did this,” because, really, I should have been more aware of what he was doing and told him to knock it off. Anyway, I just ended up explaining what had happened in ambiguous terms. But I know they all think it was me who did it.

Sigh. Responsibility sucks.

Friday, July 13, 2007

My One-hundred-and-twelfth Post

Unfulfilled Promises
About that political post I was working on… I got scared. It's just going to sit in my drafts folder forever, 'cause I know I'm never going to finish it. I was writing about a recent Supreme Court ruling. It was mostly my internal struggle between liking my First Amendment rights, and wanting my government to be less corrupt. But really, who says I have to choose? (Besides, the Supreme Court is really good at making those decisions for me.)

Harry Potter
One of the problems I've been having lately is that I spent one summer a couple of years ago reading some (quite excellent) Harry Potter fan fiction. Now I get mixed up about whether something really happened in the books, or whether it was just in a story I'd read. So... that sucks.

Angst
I hate my job. It just has me completely burnt out. I was just sitting there last Thursday as the last vestiges of affection I had for my job slipped away. All of the benefits—the friends, the monetary compensation, the feelings of accomplishment, etc.—suddenly stopped outweighing the costs—the late nights, the unappealing work, the unpredictability of it, the suckiness of it. I should quit. But the other two supervisors are going to be quitting soon as well. If we all leave, things will be harder for the people I leave behind. And I’m not sure whether I can do that. Besides, I have a sneaking suspicion that I don’t actually hate my job. But I did Thursday night. Boy howdy, did I ever.