Dinner… success. Too stuffed for words… More tomorrow.

Mia – whose site I don’t visit often enough – has been posting her requirements for a husband. Some of these cracked me up, and some I really identified with. Here are my favorites:

• 6. Know what I eat and do not eat.
  I would add: “And never ever trick me into eating something I don’t like, like Yabbie and Dill Paté.”
• 8. Try to understand that even tho I collect Anne Rice books, that does not necessarily mean I like her work.
  WORD. Just because I have a pathological need to own everything Roald Dahl ever wrote does not mean that I’m obsessed with him. It’s just something that I do. It’s like it’s my job.
• 16. Yes, I know I own this shirt in red and blue. I want to own it in black as well.
  As someone who owns the same GAP baggy wool sweater in four different colors, I really have to agree.
• 22. Must be able to spell most commonly used words in the English language.
  Yes yes yes. I dated a dumb guy once, and never again. He used to send me letters when I was studying in Germany and I’d just cringe.
• 30. He will know that I perform my best when it’s at the last minute.
  That’s me all over the place. Ever since college, I haven’t been able to start any project until the deadline is staring me in the face. It’s like my will to act doesn’t kick in til the last possible second. I always pull it out in the end, though.

Actually I may have to revise that last comment, given that my guests are arriving in less than 24 hours and I still haven’t vacuumed…

We didn’t start the fire… That amused me. I need to learn Flash.

IT’S A THANKSGIVING MIRACLE!
As he was leaving for work this morning, the Snook noticed that the postman had tried to deliver a package to us. We haven’t been expecting anything, so it was a surprise. I took the card and went to pick it up while I was doing all the food shopping. Guess what it was? The American food I’d ordered – and cancelled – earlier this week! So yeah, technically that’s Thanksgiving Incompetence, but seeing as how it means I’ll get real American pumpkin pie, I’m in a forgiving mood. Praise Baby Jesus! 🙂

Thoughts on Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets:

• Dobby was just wrong. Not how I pictured him at all. He also talked… differently than I expected.
• Tom Riddle wasn’t as hot as anticipated. Oliver Wood, however, was. And yeah, call me a sicko if you want, but Daniel Radcliffe is looking pretty cute.
• There were some very scary bits. I had to hold Rodd’s hand during the spider part. I’m a jumpy girl.
• Kenneth Branagh was brilliant. Much like my sister, I found myself laughing at everything he did, which often meant that I was guffawing while everyone else was silent. We’re weird like that. Must be a genetic thing.
• I like the way that the filmmakers left in references to things from the book that had been cut, like when Nearly Headless Nick addresses Percy and “Miss Clearwater”. (You learn she’s his girlfriend in an excised subplot.)
• What was the deal about Draco picking up the little green box in the Slytherin common room? I didn’t remember that from the book. It felt weird, like something had been cut.
• The computer graphics were so much better than the first film. The Quidditch match in particular looked amazing. I was literally squirming in my seat as Harry and Draco raced through the beams.
• “I didn’t know you could read.” = another embarrassingly explosive burst of laughter
• I have officially seen two members of the Hogwarts staff in person: Madame Pomfrey was played by Gemma Jones, who I saw as Big Mamma in “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof” in London last year (she also played Bridget Jones’s mother); and Professor Sprout was played by Miriam Margolyes, who I actually ran into at the Philosopher’s Stone premiere in London a year ago. Go me.
• The ending was really sweet, and the whole audience burst into spontaneous applause. (Actually they applauded several times, with Harry’s spinning duel spell against Draco getting one of the biggest cheers.) It was kinda neat to be among so many people who were really involved in it.
• The Snook liked it!

I’m also happy to report that Rodd picked up on the fact that Hermione and Harry are clearly not romantically interested in each other. “Girls don’t hug boys they like. Even I know that.” Isn’t he smart?

Happy Thanksgiving! I’ve had this old episode of The Brady Bunch going through my head all day, where the family dress up as Pilgrims and stuff and act out the first Thanksgiving. Am I insane here? Somebody back me up, please.

You know my favorite part of Thanksgiving? The day afterwards. It was a yearly tradition that my sister and I would go out shopping that morning and battle the crowds with my Mom. We’d always stop at Michael’s Craft Store and pick up some of their plaster Christmas tree ornaments. Then it was back home to paint them. I always tried to do mine perfectly, while my sister (who was the better artist) would always get a little too creative and start painting tributes to our dead dog. (I’m totally serious.) My brother, bless his heart, tried really hard, but he just didn’t have the patience. Eventually we’d get tired and start begging for the Christmas tree. That’s right; we’d put our tree up the day after Thanksgiving. It was a fake tree, but a really nice one. (Nowadays I don’t like real trees so much. They’re always too prickly and sappy and needles get everywhere.) So we’d put it together and then start hanging all the old ornaments, moldy construction paper Santa Clauses from scout meetings and beaded Christmas wreaths. Finally it would be done, and if there was any snow we’d don Dad’s coveralls and haul our sleds up the hill in the backyard. Once we were sufficiently cold and wet, we’d come back inside for leftovers. I can picture it right now. I’m not sure if there ever was one day that we did all those things, but in my mind they all run together anyway. Too bad it takes being really far away to make your appreciate your family, huh?

Big hugs to everybody…

At long last, it’s Harry Potter Day! Only ten hours to go. Sadly, I’ve accepted that the scarf will never be done in time.

I am so embarrassingly out of the loop. I just finally heard this Avril Lavigne chick and I am now obsessed with this “Sk8er Boi” song. (I cringe just to type that title.) Who the hell is she? Is she just a “punkier” Britney? Do you think less of me for listening to this stupid song ten times in a row? I’ll get over it, I promise.

Get your own Bond Girl Name. I’m “Shira Highbeams”. Hee. (Link courtesy of Duchess Whetmore.)

Miami Dolphins running back Ricky Williams has his own website! And it’s not some slick marketing site; he’s designed and built it himself. He’s even got a journal he updates. He sounds like a pretty cool guy. I love it when people you never expect put themselves out on the Internet.