Loved it. It was funny, it was a little scary, it was sad. And then it was those bits all over again. Lots of things were much better than I expected- more Snape time, thank goodness. They always rip him off. Much more Ginny, of course, and I do love her :-)
Lavender Brown, disgustingly great and Cormac McClaggen as well.
The best though was Jim Broadbent as Slughorn. Can't say enough good things about him. SO FUNNY! What a face :-)
The added scene was pretty good, although it does prove again that Harry is a bit of an idiot when it comes to making choices. It gives you a chance to Lupin and Tonks, and have yourself creeped out by Bellatrix. That woman is VILE and Helena Bonham Carter gets a chance to throw a regular Bellatrix fit that's pretty impressive.
Only two really big changes from the book. Both I can live with, but one did make me wonder how they'll handle it in 7. The other, was a bit disappointing, but the really important bits of it were kept in, so I guess I won't complain too much. Snape's best line of all times is left out though and Alan Rickman would have delivered it so brilliantly.
It was also really fun to go at midnight with all the crazy people in costumes and stuff. We made friends :-) JD was very funny, saying, "I"m so excited!" about every 10 minutes. He was dressed up as well. I just wore my "Some of my best friends are fictional," t-shirt. The whole crowd was giddy and happy. How can you not like that?
Anyway, this movie was certainly the most non-reader friendly. You can take that as a plus or minus! So, go, go see it; you'll enjoy it.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
In Which My Metaphor Makes Me Confused
I really like to get two things done at a time if I can, so I decided to ride my bike to Kohl's when I needed to return something. It's only a bit over six miles down to Kohl's and I've ridden more than that before. Piece of cake. Before I head out I tell Heidi my plan and see if she wants to go along. She can't, but she's all supportive like always. Anyway, I tell her that my plan is to go straight down the Beltline because I'm pretty sure that I'll get turned around if I cut through town. Ok, good plan, and off I go.
I barely got out of my neighborhood before I changed my plan. The Beltline is straight and boring and loud. The traffic moves fast and there's nothing interesting to see because I already drive on it all the time. Surely, if I go down Maryland and then cut over to the Beltline at Robison before I get to EGR, which is the tricky bit, I'll do fine. No worries. I enjoy the leafy greenness and the quiet of these roads. I marvel at the nice houses of the rich people and the up to down hill ratio is pretty good. I arrive safely out at the Beltline with no troubles.
Then, as I'm coasting down a REALLY long hill on the Beltline, all I can think is, "How the heck am I going to get back up this hill?" So, I turn onto a bike path down by EGR. There are a few lakes in EGR that make the roads and paths all twisty turny and so it wasn't long until I was completely turned around. I did know what street I was on, so I figured I was fine.
How on earth did I think I was fine!? The road I was on goes east/west. I KNOW it goes east/west because I cross it all the time when I'm going north/south! And yet, I just kept peddling along convincing myself that I was going south. Even when the sun in the sky signaled the obvious I convinced myself that it wasn't a very clear sign because it was too close to noon. I crossed a street that I used to travel frequently when I lived in another part of town. This corner should have turned me around, or at least finally forced me to admit that I was going west and not south. Nope. Somehow I just figured that this corner, since I knew it well, must mean that I was all right. Wow.
Not until I had gone two full miles out of my way did I finally have to face facts. Reluctantly I turned and headed south, knowing I was going to come back quite a long way east. I had actually gone so far west that I was further west than when I'd set out from my house.
Now, I really am this nerdy. I started thinking that gosh, this bike ride incident is a good metaphor for life. You know, how when you make a wrong turn in life it's so hard to admit it and you just keep going farther and farther in to trouble. It's so hard to get off the wrong path. You keep convincing yourself that it's the right path and than anyone or anything that disagrees with what you want to be true is explained away or just flat out ignored. Eventually, of course, you do have to do the hard work of getting back on the right path, and it's a lot harder than an extra two miles by bike. The damage you've done to your soul, or your heart, or your finances, or your relationships, don't bounce back, but they can be healed.
I was feeling all wise and everything when I reached my destination, took care of my business and then set back out to go home, by a more direct route of course. My self satisfaction lasted all of about five minutes. I didn't get turned around again. Worse. I realized that if I hadn't gotten turned around before, I would not have such a good idea of how to take a much more beautiful and satisfying way home. I would be stuck slogging up that hill on the Beltline instead of meandering through the pleasant neighborhoods of EGR. Since I had gone the wrong way, I was now clear on the right way.
That was very confusing. Making the wrong choice actually wasn't all bad. I was where I was because I'd gone the wrong way and where I was was pretty good. Should I regret that I'd gotten on the wrong path now? Or should I celebrate? Was this true in life too? Should you regret the bad paths that you go down and work really hard to stay on the right path in the future? I puzzled over it the whole seven miles home. And here's what I came up with: Nothing.
Well not quite nothing. I don't know which path comes out better in the end. I don't think I'll ever know. I hope, though, that I've realized that no path needs to end in despair. There is no path that can not be redeemed. I like that. It makes me feel safe. I've found it to be true in life and on bikes.
I barely got out of my neighborhood before I changed my plan. The Beltline is straight and boring and loud. The traffic moves fast and there's nothing interesting to see because I already drive on it all the time. Surely, if I go down Maryland and then cut over to the Beltline at Robison before I get to EGR, which is the tricky bit, I'll do fine. No worries. I enjoy the leafy greenness and the quiet of these roads. I marvel at the nice houses of the rich people and the up to down hill ratio is pretty good. I arrive safely out at the Beltline with no troubles.
Then, as I'm coasting down a REALLY long hill on the Beltline, all I can think is, "How the heck am I going to get back up this hill?" So, I turn onto a bike path down by EGR. There are a few lakes in EGR that make the roads and paths all twisty turny and so it wasn't long until I was completely turned around. I did know what street I was on, so I figured I was fine.
How on earth did I think I was fine!? The road I was on goes east/west. I KNOW it goes east/west because I cross it all the time when I'm going north/south! And yet, I just kept peddling along convincing myself that I was going south. Even when the sun in the sky signaled the obvious I convinced myself that it wasn't a very clear sign because it was too close to noon. I crossed a street that I used to travel frequently when I lived in another part of town. This corner should have turned me around, or at least finally forced me to admit that I was going west and not south. Nope. Somehow I just figured that this corner, since I knew it well, must mean that I was all right. Wow.
Not until I had gone two full miles out of my way did I finally have to face facts. Reluctantly I turned and headed south, knowing I was going to come back quite a long way east. I had actually gone so far west that I was further west than when I'd set out from my house.
Now, I really am this nerdy. I started thinking that gosh, this bike ride incident is a good metaphor for life. You know, how when you make a wrong turn in life it's so hard to admit it and you just keep going farther and farther in to trouble. It's so hard to get off the wrong path. You keep convincing yourself that it's the right path and than anyone or anything that disagrees with what you want to be true is explained away or just flat out ignored. Eventually, of course, you do have to do the hard work of getting back on the right path, and it's a lot harder than an extra two miles by bike. The damage you've done to your soul, or your heart, or your finances, or your relationships, don't bounce back, but they can be healed.
I was feeling all wise and everything when I reached my destination, took care of my business and then set back out to go home, by a more direct route of course. My self satisfaction lasted all of about five minutes. I didn't get turned around again. Worse. I realized that if I hadn't gotten turned around before, I would not have such a good idea of how to take a much more beautiful and satisfying way home. I would be stuck slogging up that hill on the Beltline instead of meandering through the pleasant neighborhoods of EGR. Since I had gone the wrong way, I was now clear on the right way.
That was very confusing. Making the wrong choice actually wasn't all bad. I was where I was because I'd gone the wrong way and where I was was pretty good. Should I regret that I'd gotten on the wrong path now? Or should I celebrate? Was this true in life too? Should you regret the bad paths that you go down and work really hard to stay on the right path in the future? I puzzled over it the whole seven miles home. And here's what I came up with: Nothing.
Well not quite nothing. I don't know which path comes out better in the end. I don't think I'll ever know. I hope, though, that I've realized that no path needs to end in despair. There is no path that can not be redeemed. I like that. It makes me feel safe. I've found it to be true in life and on bikes.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
I found this in my journal from March of this year...
The longing for God is a vast and empty darkness. Its cold and unsettling. It picks at my edges even when I don't want to consider it. The silence is unnerving, rising up to crush me. Sometimes the longing for God's presence makes it hard to breathe.
When I feel this way I forget or dismiss the history I have with God. I forget all the times and all the ways I've been saved. I forget how God always calls me back. I forget all the times he's spoken to me, the times when I've needed guidence and he plainly showed the way.
I know that God is redemptive, compassionate, and good. I know that god speaks truth and is faithful. I know that he has a sense of humor and that he weeps.
When I feel this way I forget or dismiss the history I have with God. I forget all the times and all the ways I've been saved. I forget how God always calls me back. I forget all the times he's spoken to me, the times when I've needed guidence and he plainly showed the way.
I know that God is redemptive, compassionate, and good. I know that god speaks truth and is faithful. I know that he has a sense of humor and that he weeps.
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