The poor decision I made 20 minutes ago

That awkward moment when you haven't blogged in over a month.

I'm a monster.

In any event, it is currently very late, but it's Friday, so it's irrelevant. That's right, I walk on the wild side.

I was planning on going to bed around 1:30, on the couch while season two of Arrested Development played on a continuous loop. Like I said, wild side.

However, around 1 o'clock Mallory came home and promptly found a youtube video titled "50 Greatest Harry Potter Moments".

If you know me even a little bit, you probably know that there are few things I would rather do than watch a compilation of Harry Potter moments, organized in order of greatness. That's just how I roll. An issue arose, however, when it was revealed that the video was one and a half hours long.

"We're not going to watch all of it." Mallory said, sure that we would fall asleep in no time. I agreed. Oh, how misguided we were.

Just as the video began to play, Mallory paused it, turned to me and said "Ok, what are the top five moments?"

Apart from being slightly ironic (being in blatant contradiction to our previous claim that we would not make it to the end.We're just winners at everything), it was also a weighty question. Despite what you would assume if you saw my apartment, my mind can be bizarrely organized when it involves things that hold no relevancy to being a functioning member of society. I'm like a child who ranks their favorite sandwiches in order of yummyness and blurts it out an inappropriate times, only with Disney Princesses and Community quotes.

I had, unfortunately, not figured out my top five Harry Potter moments. I have favorites to be sure, but to narrow it down to a definitive top five was stress inducing.

I eventually concluded that I did not have a set top, however moments I knew would be in my highest rankings would be as follows.

In no particular order:
The kiss between Ron and Hermione: I was more emotionally invested in their relationship than 50% of my own.

The Prince's Tale: All the feelings. All the tears. All the awards to Alan Rickman.

"Yer a Wizard, Harry": Just duh.

The Resurrection Stone: The reunion of the Marauders and Harry makes me cry in all it's mediums.

So we watched it. And it was fantastic. It was basically like an adrenaline shot of nostalgia and emotion and lists, it was unhealthy. We laughed, we almost cried, we fangirl-ed over Rupert Grint. It was an all around good time.

Until it reached the top ten.

"Yer a Wizard, Harry" was number 10, which was fine. It still counts as an acknowledged top ranking moment. I still win.

After that point, I became so stressed, I cannot even begin to understand it. Each moment before the presentation of the next rank was anxiety producing and nerve wracking. Like I said, unhealthy.

The closer they got to #1 the clearer it became that my top three moments were not going to be represented. I became irate.

How dare that kiss not be in the top ten!? Are you a soulless monster, or is there another reason the Resurrection stone scene doesn't move you to your core? Are you Helen Keller and could neither see nor hear the scene where Snape's whole life story is revealed?

The number one moment ended up being some throw back nostalgia shot of the kids all seeing Hogwarts for the first time, which is great, I'm not a monster, but I was not pleased.

We complained, loudly, to ourselves, no doubt disturbing out normal-sleeping-hours neighbors. It wasn't until the final seconds when Robbie Coltrane (did I mention that Robbie Coltrane narrated this? Yeah, he totally did. It was mega awesome) said something along the lines of "We can't wait to see the final installment in 2011" that we realized that not a single one of the moments was from the second part of Deathly Hallows and that the date on the bottom of the video read "2010" and also that we'd made a huge mistake.

So needless to say, I will be making my own list of top 50 Harry Potter moments in the near future.

Unity Sand

Recently, a lot of people I know have been getting married. Not really super close friends, but about 10% of the people that I casually sort of kind of know have entered or are about to enter into the bonds of matrimony.

I've crept through wedding photos, and it didn't take a great deal of deduction to see that there's a growing trend in weddings.

Unity sand.

Back in the day, the thing was unity candles. Two flames were brought together to form one. The symbolism is pretty clear. Two people joining their lives together, to create one burning flame of passion and eternal love. There is a 94% chance that your parents had one of these.

I mean, there hasn't been a huge eradication of the unity candles, but at some point in the mid 2000's some unanimous decision was reached, by the trendy wedding council that candles were out, and sand was in.

The idea is cool. Two jars of sand are poured into a larger jar. I dare you to try and separate that sand back into its original jar.

Then I guess you keep the sand in your house on a pedestal or something. I'm not really sure.

As popular as this sand thing is, I'm getting the impression that it's time will soon be up. It had a good run, but most people seem to think that it's over used. So I'm predicting that in ten years people will look back and be like "Yeah, sand. That's so 2000 and late." I'm cool with this. It's not like I grew up picturing a perfect white dress and a jar from Hobby Lobby filled with colored sand. There's just going to be a void. And I have taken it upon myself to trail blaze new tangible representations of eternal love a unity.

Cement Hand Prints of Unity: This is good on a couple levels. One, you can't make hard concrete soft again, therefore symbolizing your eternal commitment. And two, you can keep the hand prints in your house as a modern art piece. That's how you start a marriage right.

The Burnt CD of Unity: I'm not really an expert on how CDs work, but I'm pretty sure that if you burn a CD, it cannot be made blank again. So during the ceremony, the Bride and Groom can put their favorite play list of songs that "just feel like they were written about us" into disk form. Additional bonus: That CD can then be used on the honeymoon for setting the mood if they so choose.

Permanent Black Hair Dye of Unity: That stuff does not ever come out.

Jello Jigglers of Unity: Jello is one of the most peculiar substances on earth. You can literally not make it a liquid again. So during the wedding, while your sister is singing a song and your cousin reads 1Corinthians 13:4-7, you and your spouse can walk to the alter, and start making jello. He pours the boiling water, she adds powder, they both stir and add the cold water. Then they walk, hand in hand, to the kitchen in the church, put the jello in the refrigerator, and wait till after the reception. Then they can eat it on their honeymoon to solidify they're eternal love.

I look forward to all of these ideas being featured in wedding blogs within the next ten years.

This is a love story.

It all began sophomore year. Just a wide eyed girl, going through life, not a care in the world, stumbled upon a black cardigan.

Spoiler alert: That girl is me.

To anyone else, it was just a normal sweater. But not to her. The big black buttons and the perfect arm length were unlike any other cardigan she had ever known. It tied every outfit together, it could dress up any outfit as well as dress one down. One rarely saw this girl without her favorite cardigan. They were inseparable. And like with any other true love, the girl couldn't quite explain what she loved most about the sweater, but she knew that she couldn't imagine her life without it.

That is until I lost it (Yes I'm switching to first person, deal with it).

I don't really remember when exactly it was lost lost. Like, forever lost. It was sort of gradual thing. It would get lost for a while then I'd find it. Oh what a joyous reunion we would have. However, these reunions were always short lived, for sooner rather than later it would be thrust into the cavernous abyss that was my closet growing up.

Also, Emily distinctly lied to me for an entire quarter last year while it was in her closet/on her body. I don't know if I'll ever be able to trust again.

But in all honesty, my relationship with this cardigan is the kind that's portrayed in almost every romantic comedy. We met. There was an instant connection. We were soon inseparable. There would be little times of separation and angst but eventually we would find each other again. I thought it would always be that way.

But life is not a romantic comedy. And sometimes the truest love is the one that's lost.

It seriously is no where to be found. It's not in my apartment, it's not in any closet at home, I've searched Emily's house so I know she's not lying to me this time. I honestly have no idea where it could possibly be. I've resigned myself to the fact that it has probably been thrown away. There are two options. 1) malicious intent 2)accident. (The malicious intent theory is more hard core, but my cardigan never had any enemies that I was aware of.)

I'm going to have to get over it, I know, but it's hard: Knowing that I'll never again feel those same soft fibers against my skin. Never again thread those almost comically large buttons through their corresponding holes. Never again be able to wear a t-shirt in January, or buy a shirt without trying it on, because I know that my cardigan makes everything look awesome. But I'm strong.

I have faith that there is another cardigan out there for me. Maybe not the same as my first, but maybe better for me. Maybe I should stop comparing every cardigan I see to that one, just to see if that would make it any easier to find one. Maybe I should just settle for a nice cardigan that doesn't fit me as well, but maybe has some nice pockets. I could be happy with that, right?

Or maybe I should always remember that cardigan, and even if it never comes back to me, I'll know what its like to have an all purpose, goes with everything, amazing cardigan that makes me feel fantastic. Because that's what every girl deserves.

P.S. I'm 87% sure that the songs "Someone Like You" and "The One That Got Away" were written about my cardigan.

2011

2011 is drawing to a close, and while I'd like to be all wistful nostalgic I can say with absolute certainty that 2011 will not be missed.

Despite it's best efforts to make me completely miserable, I learned a thing or two from this massive infected white head of a year on the face that is my life.

Things I learned in 2011:

Paper cuts, when left unattended, will become infected.

God is bigger than any problem you might have.

No matter how long you wait, the next person is always the rebound.

The Gulf War did not, in fact, take place in the Gulf of Mexico.

How to fix the action on an acoustic guitar.

No matter how hard you try, you will always lose tubes of expensive chapstick.

What a re-enforced polymer bed is.

When you make real friends, you can never lose them.

The ramifications of your actions are so much bigger than what you could possibly imagine. Proceed with caution.

That crap spewed out by a bored Morman housewife can create a multimillion dollar industry, while brilliantly written sitcoms will, without a doubt, always be canceled after three seasons.

Tina Fey is a goddess.

A cheated bar chord is an acceptable substitute.

Just because something claims to heal acne, doesn’t mean that it does.

Harry Potter T-shirts are always a good investment.

Phineas and Ferb really has no age limit.

Be cool to the pizza guy. He has a noble calling.

When Paul said “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good” he was kind of being serious.

I’m related to the guy who invented Play-Doh.

The Fez was outlawed in Turkey in 1926.

Just because you hate an actress in X-Men: First Class, doesn’t mean that she won’t be amazing in the Hunger Games (hopefully).

If it is Friday, yesterday was Thursday, tomorrow is Saturday and Sunday comes afterwards.

Salad is actually pretty good.

The only reason people don’t watch 30 Rock is because of douchey 30 Rock fans.

FRIENDS really is one of the greatest TV shows ever created.

How to (sort of) play the mandolin

The lyrics to “Blinded by the Light”

Peace out 2011. You will not be missed.

I like to think that I'm a fairly reasonable person. I'm not easily offended, I try not to stress the small stuff, and for the most part, I let peoples annoying traits slide.

But there are a hand full of things that I hate without any rational basis. I understand that it's foolish and is the opposite of constructive, but all that head knowledge doesn't stop me from flying into a white hot rage whenever I think about it.

The list is as follows (In no particular order):

People who ship Harry/Hermione.

When little girls start singing Wicked.

Jean shopping

And this re-posted status:

I am sick and tired of every year when CHRISTMAS comes around, there are people who want to take CHRIST out of CHRISTMAS. It might offend someone. Well how about all of the CHRISTIANS? What about offending us because you are taking our CHRIST out of CHRISTMAS!?!? CHRIST IS CHRISTMAS!!! If you aren't celebrating CHRIST then why are you celebrating? CHRISTMAS is about the birth of our SAVIOR! CHRISTMAS is one of a few holidays left that celebrate my CHRIST! Leave my holiday alone!!! And tell everyone MERRY CHRISTMAS, not Happy Holidays!

Re-post if you are not ashamed

When I first saw this, I quickly added it to the list of things I hate for no reason, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that my hatred is not in vain; it is both justified and multi-layered.

Ok, we'll start with the obvious. All caps. When I see all caps I imagine Harry Potter in his 5th year, filled with angst and disdain toward everyone who loves him, screaming at Dumbledore. All Caps= yelling. Whether to convey excitement or anger, this function tells the reader that you are raising your voice. So when I read this, I picture a person sitting peacefully at a table, drinking tea. Also, for some reason there are delicately painted china plates surrounding this person. I don't know why. So the person starts talking, but every time he says Christ or Christmas he suddenly becomes a manic animal, unable to control himself. Kind of like a werewolf or tourrettes guy.

Also, multiple punctuation marks are just tacky.

Now on to the more substantial issues I have with this horribly constructed paragraph.

"It might offend someone. Well how about all of the CHRISTIANS? What about offending us because you are taking our CHRIST out of CHRISTMAS!?!?"

Ok, this is a big one. I'm sure the author of this is a very wise and well read biblical scholar. At least I have to assume that seeing as how they got something very different out of verses like "speak the truth in love" than I did. Saying "This might offend someone" is not a free pass to say whatever you want. Warning me that you're going to say something stupid does not make what you're about to say any less stupid. And I'm sorry, if you have a problem with being offended, you might want to rethink your decision to follow Jesus, because I'm pretty sure He said that we'd be in for a lot more that just being offended.

"If you aren't celebrating CHRIST then why are you celebrating?"

I get it, sometimes everyone saying "Happy Holidays" when they clearly mean Christmas can being a little annoying, but on the flip side, not everyone celebrates Christmas. I don't know if it's news to anyone but lots of people are Jewish and, consequently celebrate Hanukkah. Also, if we're going to get technical, it really should be "Happy Holidays" if it isn't December 25th. We just got done eating our faces off on Thanksgiving, we're coming up on Christmas, Hanukkah and Kwanzaa (take your pick. Or hey, do all three, I don't care), and then, boom, it's New Years. I'm pretty sure even if your only Yule Tide celebration of choice is Christmas, there's more than one holiday you celebrate this time of year.

CHRISTMAS is about the birth of our SAVIOR!

Luke 2:8- "And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night." Meteorological and historically speaking, the prime time for shepherds to be watching their flocks in the biblical Middle East was spring time. So in all actuality, Jesus was probably born in April. Lawyerd.

CHRISTMAS is one of a few holidays left that celebrate my CHRIST!

Easter. I'm pretty sure that the evil liberal media hasn't taken that one completely away from you, right? Other than Christmas and Easter, what holidays are there that celebrate Christ? I'm really just curious.

Also, this is something that bugged me about the whole thing, they keep saying "My Christ". I understand that to some extent. Like in a context like"never underestimate my Jesus" or "my Jesus bled and died for my sins" I think it's beautiful. But here, not so much. This person is taking their anger and frustration and manifesting it in a way that makes Christ exclusive to them. By them saying things like "my" they totally miss the point of Jesus. Jesus is not just a savior or our savior, He is the savior. I mean, as far as I know, no one else died for the sins of the world, but I could be totally wrong.

Leave my holiday alone!!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kHmvkRoEowc

Come on, everyone was thinking it.

And tell everyone MERRY CHRISTMAS, not Happy Holidays!

This ties into the thing I said earlier. Guess what, there are people who are different from you, and unfortunately, you can't just kill them. If we're not careful about this, we're going to end up with complete chaos.

Me: Merry Christmas.

Other Person: Um, actually, I'm Jewish. I celebrate Hanukkah.

Me: WELL TOO FREAKING BAD. I SAID MERRY CHRISTMAS.

Re-post if you are not ashamed

This pisses me off. I've seen a couple of these. They'll say something like "I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, re-post this if you aren't either. And if it ended there, it wouldn't be that bad, but then they follow it up with "And remember, God knows if you saw this. He knows if you're too ashamed to re-post this." I saw one once that said that if you didn't re-post it, you weren't a real Christian. Subsequently, about a million people made it their status for fear that God would send them straight to hell if they didn't change their facebook status right that second. Really? Really. The creator of the universe, against whom I have committed heinous crimes, for some reason beyond my comprehension loves me in spite of those crimes, and sacrifices himself so that I don't have to die and can live eternally with him. And in order to obtain that eternal life, I need to re-post a facebook status? Really?

"Not by works of righteousness that we have done, but because of our status updates, he has saved us."

If you're thinking of reaching your unsaved facebook friends with this status, don't. It's not going to work. They will laugh at you. Instead why don't you try some of that speaking the truth in love stuff? I hear it works wonders.

This is a tale of the dangers of carrying your android in your back pocket.

When you're significantly younger than the majority of your friends, you'd think that the residual effects of riding to Cold Stone in the bed of a pick up truck isn't really something you need to worry about.
And that's where you'd be wrong.

I'm 19, and I'm the second youngest person involved in the Refuge City Church plan in Dayton Ohio (The youngest of which being like a month younger than me), everyone else is in their mid to late 20's or 30's. This, however, does not necessarily constitute habitual maturity. So last week, after an introductory discussion on the ecclesiology of Refuge City, a number of us piled into the back of a pick up truck and drove through Dayton to get ice cream. Apparently that's legal now.

It was all good fun.

Until we wen't over a bump.

Then it was super-mega-awesome fun.

I was sitting in the rear most section of the bed, directly above the back tires, so when we went over the bump I caught mad air. Like five feet. I saw my whole life flash before my eyes. I had excruciatingly vivid visions of my body being thrown onto the blacktop into something that would inevitably end up in an exhibition of modern art. There were still things I had to say. Things I had to do. Things to watch on Netfix. It couldn't end like this.

It was also the most fun I'd had in a long time. I feel as if near death experiences and exuberant giddy are supposed to go together. I should probably see someone about that.

Ok, fine, in reality it was probably only like a foot of air. And the more I recount this story, the more I feel like Ross in that episode of FRIENDS where the car backfires. It wasn't really near death, but that doesn't mean that it didn't change my life.

And it wasn't in some deep, profound way.

It was changed when, an hour later,I checked my phone only to find a giant crack across the screen. My android looks like Charlotte was trying to tell me something but then was struck with acute and debilitating epilepsy.

Hey there E.B. White reference. Probably won't see you ever again.

Now, when I first decided to write this post, it was the day after the actual incident. It has now been six days, and I've yet to do anything about the giant crack across my screen. At first it was just because I was lazy, but now I think it looks kind of cool. Like maybe I was attacked by Russian mobsters and had to defend myself using my phone. Or maybe I jumped in front of a bullet to save a baby, and the phone saved my life. Or maybe I'm just super hipster and uncracked cell phones are so mainstream. You probably wouldn't understand.

Yeah. I think I'll go with that last one.

Pronunciation

This is going to be a rant about something that has always bothered me, but was brought to the forefront of my mind by a recent conversation with a friend (from which no part of this blog post is directly stolen *looks around nervously*).

If I had one wish-And I'm going to warn you, I realize that this makes me a horrible human being- I would not wish for world peace, or an end to poverty or for someone eradicate Nickleback. If I had one wish, it would be for everyone in the world to correctly pronounce Rowling.

Ok, that's probably a lie. I don't know what I would do in that situation. I like to think that I'd wish for something noble, but you always think of yourself as better than you actually are in hypothetical situations like that. So I guess first I would wish for something huge and monumental and for the betterment of all mankind, and if I had multiple wishes, I would put the pronunciation of her name up there.

But in all seriousness.

This woman is by far the most popular/famous living author. She's certainly the wealthiest author to ever live. She successfully navigated not a trilogy, but a 7 part metanarritive epic that transcends the boundaries of children's, young adult and adult literature. Her characters and stories will live in the hearts of thousands for centuries. She single-handedly revived a love of literature for an entire generation. She has been awarded Ordre national de la Légion d'honneur, the highest honor that France can bestow. She is an exceptional philanthropist, supporting charities ranging from Anti-Poverty groups to the children's charity that she chairs, Lumos. All the good that Harry Potter has brought to this world would not exist if it were not for this extraordinary woman.

Why, I ask you. Why, then, has every single American media outlet decided to incorrectly pronounce her name?

It's pronounced Row-ling. Exactly how it looks. Row, as in rowing a boat, and ling.... not Raowling.

What is that even? How as the elusive "a" ended up in there?

I could maybe understand if she was a lower profile author. Or if she had a super difficult to pronounce sir name. Or if her books weren't so darn fantastic.

But none of those things are true. She has reached a level of popularity that no one else has, purely based on a book series. Her name is quite simple, has two syllables and is British. And her books are world wide best sellers, and in my opinion, will be classics 100 years from now.

Is it like some kind of conspiracy? Is our government trying to keep this from us? Is that why no one in this country know how to pronounce her name? I cannot recall the last time I watched an American program where they said her name correctly.

It's frustrating, because whenever it happens I find myself yelling at my TV or computer, only to slowly realize that they cannot hear me. My feeble attempts to correct this country are in vain.

So I have an idea. An evil plan to make sure everyone knows how to correctly say this very simple name.

1. Take over the government: it should be easy enough.

2. Make a movie of the woman herself saying her own name for two hours.

3. Pass a law that everyone in the United States of America must see it at least once in their lifetime.

4. Everyone will live happily ever after.

Now I realize that this whole plan involves me heading up a government regime that is in direct contrast with my own political views, but that's how strongly I feel about this issue. The woman deserves to have her name correctly pronounced.