Solitude

I've been living alone for several weeks now. Part of me says, this is amazing. I get to sit around at home and do whatever I want: play piano at 11PM (well, I'd do that anyway, just not as loud), watch The Simpsons while eating a dinner of cottage cheese and apple sauce, read without interruption anywhere in the house, or blast my music at 7:30 in the morning when I'm making my lunch. And I like driving myself to work in utter silence, or listening to a podcast on my iPod, or the radio instead of thirty minutes of political drivel, or "I'll tell you what," or "that's what I'm saying," or "weelll, looks like it'll rain today" (my internal reaction: no shit, Sherlock, it's central Florida in the summer). I used to get these pounding headaches at work that wouldn't go away until I went to sleep, but I haven't had one since I started driving myself. Maybe it's to do with being on my own schedule, or just not having to listen to the inevitably painful conversation in the carpool. I hate the carpool. All this to say, it's been nice, and I've found myself in a better mood for almost a month now.

The downside to being alone is I don't ever see anyone outside of work. Let's face it, I'm not what one might call a social butterfly. I don't make friends quickly. I can count on my two hands the number of people I met in college with whom I hope to stay in touch. That is not an exaggeration. My friends from home have continued on with their lives, moving on to other states or countries (or are already there). I hesitate to search for new friends since I don't know what this next year will look like, and people are hard work. They suck the life out of me.

So, it appears that I'm alone down here. I haven't spent an evening away from home for two weeks. In that time I have retreated into my books, imagining myself a part of worlds that will never exist outside of the imagination. It seems like I'm happier there, lost in my thoughts.

As for the work situation, I haven't heard from them yet. With every passing day the shadow of doubt grows in my mind. Two weeks ago I was hopeful, now I'm just frustrated. So much for making a decision soon.

Deathly Hallows

I finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows around 6:3o yesterday evening. When I finally put the book down I was glad that no one else was around because I looked liked I'd recently been crying (I had), smelled like I'd spent more than 24 hours (with a good 7.5 hours of sleeping) in bed, leaving it only for food and bathroom breaks (I had), and felt simultaneously elated and aimless. Now that my weekend of Potter-mania was over, I had no idea what to do with the rest of my time. I was very close to picking up the book and starting over again, knowing that my first read was extremely fast, and that I therefore missed many of the minute details. But the thought of going through all 759 pages again was a bit daunting. This thought, coupled with the realization that reading it again would mean that one of my coworkers would have to wait longer to read it (as they are waiting on my copy), prevented me opening the book.

I got to work today hoping that at least one other person would have finished, but alas, I was disappointed and had to bite my tongue many times throughout the day as we discussed the series up to the end of book six. Hopefully tomorrow will yield more people who have finished the book, so I can finally start talking about this with people.

Deathly Hallow's Eve

I got home from work today and found that I was not at all hungry, and that it is far to hot to go hit a tennis ball against a wall at the community center. Instead I planted myself in front of the computer, a dangerous place for a Harry Potter fan on the eve of the book seven release. I don't want to be spoiled, see. So I thought I'd check J. K. Rowling's website to see if the door was open (explaining this statement would take too much time and energy), and low and behold, it was. And as I read Jo's letter to her fans which was behind the door, I started getting a little teary. It wasn't a particularly sad letter, no gut-wrenching goodbyes or inspirational epitaphs, it was just thank yous to all the people who have helped her along the way. My sadness wasn't just for the loss that I might be feeling (I have this horrible feeling that she's going to kill him off), but for her as well. She has been writing these books since 1990, and now, 17 years later, it's all over. I've been reading these books for only a couple of years, and I'm incredibly sad about it ending. Granted, I'm a sap when it comes to anything ending, but that is besides the point. The end of the Harry Potter feels akin to the last show of "Les Miserables" at UHS, my senior show, or even graduation, although I am not as elated as I was then (perhaps that feeling will come when I see the gloriously brown UPS truck roll around the corner tomorrow).

Anyway, to avoid being spoiled, I'm avoiding Facebook (you know some joker is going to put it on their feed), e-mail (lest the live or die list appear in the subject line, and basically any website that isn't violently opposed to spoiling Potter fans. I know it's extreme, and a little ridiculous, but I've been counting down to this since January or February when they announced the release date.

In other news, I haven't heard back from University High yet. I'm starting to get a little worried. And no, Dad, I haven't called Osceola, lay off it.

Anyway, I'm off to finish Half-Blood Prince so I'll be ready for the UPS man when he comes.

Interview (Reprise)

The interview this morning went very well. They didn't offer me a job on the spot, but they did go over the classes I would have if I am hired, which I think is a good sign. The conversation when well. I didn't stutter or say something stupid, which is quite impressive, because when I get nervous I stutter a lot and say stupid things. So, I'm optimistic. As I sat in the lobby waiting for my interviewers to come out, I realized that the place still smells the same, after 4 years it really hasn't changed at all. A few coats of paint, but it's still the same.

And now for what I really want to talk about: Harry Potter. I went to the midnight showing of "Order of the Phoenix" with some friends from work (so that we'd all be miserable at work the next day together). The first 15 minutes were absolutely perfect; I couldn't stop smiling. The rest of the movie was also quite good, although I missed the subplots that were lost in translation from book to movie. The best thing about this movie was, in my opinion, casting. A few new characters were introduced (Luna Lovegood, Dolores Umbridge, Grawp) and each was almost exactly the way I imagined him/her. The fact that the screenwriter, designers, director and actors were able to paint the same image I had in my head speaks to the quality of J. K. Rowling's writing and the filmmakers' dedication to maintaining the spirit of the original text.

They made some significant changes to the fight in the Ministry of Magic which I found unnecessary. For example, the Dumby/Voldy battle produced something that look astonishingly like the Priori Incantatem link that was described in the Harry/Voldy fight from Goblet of Fire. I suppose that really comes down to a difference in interpretation, but well, I think I'm right. The Dumbledore's Army scenes were really great though. I imagined the Room of Requirement a little differently, but that happens.

Overall it was a really good movie, and I suspect it is better when not compared to the book. It is impossible to fit a nearly eight hundred page book into a two and a quarter hour movie.

The Summer of Potter, as I've heard it called, continues with the release of the final installment of the book series, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows on July 21st. All I can say about that is: Harry had better not die. Or Ron and Hermione.

Interview

I got a call this afternoon from a phone number that I thought I recognized. The voice on the other end of the phone confirmed that. It was the person in charge of interviewing perspective English teachers at University High School. She asked me if I could come in for an interview. Of course I said yes.

So I have an interview this Thursday at 10:00 AM.

I'm nervous, and I have no idea what to wear. I spent two hours shopping after work this evening and got a shirt, but no pants. Needless to say, I'm going to the mall tomorrow, and hopefully I will find a classy suit.

And as for the actual interview preparation, I don' t know where to start. There is so much to think about, how to handle discipline issues, what qualifies me for that particular job in the first place, why I want to be a teacher. I spent some time online reading up on possible interview questions, and I realized that I don' t know the answer to quite a few of them. But at least it's a place to start.

Today on a whole has been really draining for me. I didn't get enough sleep last night (completely my own fault) to start, and then I got the call from UHS this afternoon, then I spent half of my evening stressing about clothes (stupid clothes), and then I spent the rest of it dwelling alternately on the impending interview and "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix" (which was fabulous, by the way). So, I will finish this day with a quick nap before I have to be up tomorrow morning for work. Oh bother.

My Bed is my Muse

I wrote a lot of papers in college. A lot of papers. But I seldom wrote those papers at a desk. I would start at my desk, fully intending to be efficiently productive for several hours. But after the first 30 minutes I would get restless and start fidgeting and inevitably migrate from the desk to the bed. For some reason I could never write at the desk. Ever. If I was downstairs I would migrate from the table to the couch and back again.

So, in an attempt to get this cover letter written, I've migrated to my bed. Maybe if I can't get past the first paragraph I'll go back.

On a different note, I didn't meet my post quota for June either, but I got pretty close, so I count it a success. It is summer after all.