It’s about Harry Potter.  Here it is. Verbatim.

Me: Oh my god there are Weasley look-a-likes in the restaurant! The one who looks like the twins even has on a striped scarf!

Former roommate: KIDNAP THEM FOR ME!!!!!!!!!!

FR: But he has glasses, so maybe he’s more of a Percy.  The kid with him is totally a Charlie.  And I will try to kidnap them; they’re very tall!

FR: Percy was taller than the twins!

Me: Totally a Percy, then. I want them!

Me: I’m creepily staring at them. Decided it’s Percy and a cross between Ron and Charlie.

FR: Just ask the parents if you can have them!

Me: No parents around. Percy looks our age and they’re out on a brother-date! So fucking cute.

FR: ASK PERCY ON A DATE FOR ME!!!!!

Me: I can’t just go up to Percy Weasley and ask him on a date for you!

FR: …Yes you can!!!!!

Me: Oh my god he even does the looking over the rim of his glasses thing I pictured Percy doing when he was a prefect!

FR: PLEEEEEEEEEEASE! unless charlie is near our age. Then him.

Me: The more I stalk him the more Ron he becomes.

Me: Ron is about half a foot taller than Percy.  But looks about 17. Percy looks in his early 20s.

FR: But I want ron!

Me: I think he’s talking about a college course now. He may be at least 18.

Me: Spoiler alert: they don’t have British accents.

FR: Did you ask them out for me?

Me: No. I’m sorry…

FR: Our friendship is over.

Me: I’m sorry. But you can’t just go up to the Weasleys and ask them out!

FR: YES YOU CAN!

Me: NO YOU CAN’T! YOU COULD MAYBE DO THAT TO NEVILLE OR LUNA OR CRABBE AND GOYLE. MAYBE EVEN HERMIONE. BUT DEFINITELY NONE OF THE WEASLEYS!

Three hours later…

FR:  Still mad at you.

Me: Sorry…

FR: It’s too late to apologize…

Me: I’m so sorry. Celebrities intimidate me.

FR: Jerk!

The next day, after me telling her I’m (joke) mad at her about something…

FR: Listen. I’m still mad about the Weasley incident.

Me: I’m sorry. Maybe I’ll see them again.

FR: If you see them again and don’t ask them out for me this friendship is OVER!

Me: I’ll never let a Weasley look-a-like pass by without me harassing them again!

FR: I’m glad you’ve learnt your lesson.

She came over to my apartment to eat lunch today. We had fried egg sandwiches covered in delicious chili sauce.

Om nom nom. I eat this on everything. Even spaghetti.

And then I started chasing her around the apartment trying to kiss her. And she ran from me. Very first grade.

And when I was about to catch her, my foot caught on the hem of my pants and I fell. Hard.

A few moments later my roommate stuck her head out of her bedroom and informed me the force of my crash had made things fall off of her desk.

My knee is bruised.

I feel like I was much more graceful when I was five.

Myself included.

So the other day I realized that somewhere in the course of moving three times in five months I had lost the textbooks I need for this semester.

So I tore my room apart trying to find them. After that yielded no results I decided to do something truly useful and cry myself to sleep.

After such a productive night I woke up, walked to the book store, spent 80 dollars on books I had at one time owned, quickly did the reading, and then went to class.

And that’s pretty much how all my first few days of class have been going.

Now I’m going to go find some coffee and some food. And consume it.

About time.

Talk about last minute.

It was the first day of classes and I was on the phone all day crying and pleading for them to figure out why I couldn’t register.

The secretary in our provost’s office is a goddess, by the way.

I’m seriously considering sending her flowers.

Except I won’t, because I’m cheap. But I have some very pretty thank you cards.

I’d been on the verge of a breakdown for the past few days, then at around 1:30 yesterday, Secretary/Goddess called me saying, “Oh, someone forgot to mark you as re-admitted. You’re good to go.”

One little check mark caused me all that pain.

But none of that matters now; I’m back in to school!

And now I’m going to go enjoy all the benefits of being in college, like free gym access, cheap healthcare, and the impressive DVD collection in the library.

(I’m only taking six credit hours, I’ll have plenty of time to enjoy these perks.)

So, yeah. I’m going to go do that now.

P.S. With unlimited access to campus computers (another perk!), I should be posting more now. A lot more. At least more than once every few months.

It’s still broken. Very broken.

But today I realized I had some free time, so I hopped on over to the public library.

But here’s what’s been going on in my life:

I moved. While I very much miss the roof overlooking the sheriff’s department at my old apartment, this one has air conditioning. And considering the 100 degree heat indexes we’ve been having up here lately, I think it was a reasonable trade.

I also have been working two jobs.

One is at the Home Depot. I’ve got an intense farmer’s tan and plenty of dirt beneath my fingernails from this job.

My other is at a local Chinese restaurant. This one’s a lot of fun. I’m a driver, and they won’t let me do anything to help out in the restaurant, so most of the time I sit there and eat Chinese food. Fortunately it’s only three hours a day, or else I might have gained 1,000 pounds by now. I’m also the only white person there. It’s kind of funny to see people’s reactions when they realize I work there. There are a lot of double takes. And the boss doesn’t speak English. And I’m the only one who doesn’t speak Chinese. Which makes for a lot of awkward moments.

Anyways, there’s a brief update on what’s going on. My life’s pretty boring. I make it more interesting by drinking. A lot. The highlight of my past few weeks was probably that I played spin-the-bottle for the first time. Not that it was a particularly good game, I just feel like it was something I needed to do before I die.

And hopefully I’ll actually fix my computer soon. I mean, I’m paying for internet at my apartment. Well, one-third of it. And haven’t used it yet. I need to get on this shit.

Big time.

Last night I had a bit to drink. Maybe a lot to drink.

The mayor of our town happened to be at this same bar.

And I’ve been on a really big Twitter kick.

I was drunk enough I’d get excited every time I saw the mayor.

So I tweeted about him every time I saw them.

It was a little stalker-ish. A lot stalker-ish.

And turns out he saw them. And responded. I’m a huge creep.

In the future, I’m never, ever, ever going near Twitter while drunk.

Followed by a miserable Saturday. Not hung over, just congested, high fever. Whatever.

Took Saturday night off from drinking like a responsible person.

I wasn’t too upset by this because the Tuesday of finals week is the big night of the semester. Everyone goes out because there are never any finals scheduled on Wednesday.

So I was saving up.

Unfortunately, by Tuesday I wasn’t really feeling any better.

But, like the true champion I am, I decided to go out anyway. I mean, it’s Reading Day Eve.

It was a pretty fantastic night.

There were parties happening on almost every street corner.

Two of my roommates and I split a bottle of whiskey (on top of the random beers and margaritas I had consumed along the way).

I smoked probably half a pack of cigarettes. Maybe more.

There was so much dancing.

And, like the week before, I woke up miserable.

Except this time it was serious. I wasn’t just feverish and congested, I was coughing up blood.

I’ve heard that’s generally something you don’t want your body to do.

Fortunately, I got to the doctor today, got on some antibiotics, and am going to be fine.

But I may have learned an important lesson here. Don’t party while you’re sick.

On the other hand, it was such a good night.

Yeah, I would make the stupid decision again.

I’d party again.

Always.

Fuck my health.

I had a kitten and he died Tuesday morning.

This was of course very difficult for me, as he was very young and, even though he’d been sick, I wasn’t really ready for him to die.

So after finding him dead that morning, I cried, wrapped him in a paper bag that had formerly held whiskey bottles, and put him in an airtight container that had formerly held spinach.

Then, unfortunately, I immediately had to go into work.

Six hours later I returned, realized I really needed to get this cat buried, and then realized I didn’t have a shovel. Or a place to bury him.

So I sent out a mass text asking Do you own a shovel?

People were a little concerned.

But eventually my roommate got hold of a friend who found his parents who had a shovel.

Went to pick it up, then headed out to the nearest state park. But once we were out there there were too many cars around to bury him out there. I mean, it was after dark, we had a shovel, would be digging a grave. And there’s also the whole issue of legality.

So we bailed on that idea and set out to find another place to bury him.

First, we seriously considered a nearby park. Still illegal, but there was less likelihood of being caught.

Then I called every friend in town who has a back yard, but found out it’s actually illegal to bury pets within the city limits. Which I’m pretty those who actually live here and aren’t in a rental ignore, but people were unwilling to break the law when there were landlords involved.

I called almost everybody I know. My roommates called almost everybody they know.

Finally, at about 11 p.m., we got hold of of a friend who lives outside of the city limits and has a large backyard.

So we headed out there, with a shovel in the trunk and a dead cat in the back seat, and then proceeded to bury my cat.

It was after midnight when we finished, but I’m rather proud of what my roommate said as we put him in the ground.

“You were a good Gollum.”

It’s really difficult for me to be at home.

I love my family very much, I just can’t live with them anymore.

I’m too different from them now.

They focus their lives on things I really don’t care about, and they can’t understand why I care about the things that are important to me.

But despite all the differences, I’ll always love them.

I blame watching my first episodes ever of Buffy the Vampire Slayer all within a few days.

For the record, I don’t actually believe in vampires. I don’t think.

But that hasn’t stopped me from carrying a wooden stake around with me after dark. Even into the bar.

Or threatening both strangers and friends with it.

Or asking almost everyone I know if they’re a vampire.

Or closely monitoring the eating habits of my semi-nocturnal roommate.

People probably think I’m very strange.

It’s just you can never be too prepared.

Constant vigilance.