Emma Watson cordially invites you to browse my brand new blog!
The Deathly Hallows Premiere in London. I am a huge fan of this dress, by Rafael Lopez for Atelier Mayer.
Last Wednesday Harry Potter "et les reliques du mort" FINALLY came out in France. It had been released in the U.S. a week earlier, and I had endured countless facebook statuses about midnight premieres, costumes, wands, and reviews about the film's quality. Writhing in jealousy, I pictured all of my friends together, arms linked and skipping down the movie theater aisles and exuding pure, light-hearted joy. (Though I realize that spatially, these dimensions don't work out right, and that all of my friends are spread all across California, the envy center of my brain does not concern itself with these petty details.) They happily toss popcorn into each other's mouths, heads thrown back in laughter, and I hoped that imaginary them would choke, or at least get imaginary heightened cholesterol from all the butter. Each "Harry Potter 7 was sooooo good OMG" was like a pin stuck into my voodoo doll as I scrolled past each tweet irately, until my eyes fell upon one incredibly cryptic and foreboding status which simply read "DOBBY." GAH. When Skyping with my friends I could only clamp my hands over my ears and shake my head frantically, crying "Don't tell me anything! Don't tell me anything!" The customary response was an infuriating look of smug, pitying knowledge. "I have surpassed your puny mortal plain," the look said. "You cannot know of it. You have not seen Harry Potter."
But Wednesday, finally, my time had come. As I got off of work that day, I was Down to Business. Jogging briskly down the steps of my high school, I called Friend in Lyon #1, Stefany:
"What are you doing right now?" I demanded. I had no time for pleasantries; there was Harry effing Potter to be seen!
"I just finished class," she responded.
"Excellent. You, me, Harry Potter, one hour from now." Urgency dictated that I had no time for trifles like complete sentence structure. As I spoke the magic words, Stefany, too, felt the magnitude of our sacred mission.
"YES! I'll be there! LET'S DO THIS THING!" This is why she is Friend in Lyon #1.
Friends in Lyon #2-5 were busy or seeing earlier showings, those traitors. I spoke with them on the bus on the way back home, and as always, using my cell on public transportation made me feel like an asshole. Once home, I walked five minutes to the closest theater. Movie time, check. Original English version, check. Stefany arrived at my apartment early, and even comparing our latest H&M purchases couldn't distract us for long:
"What time is it?"
"Still too early."
"Maybe...do you want to head over early, you know? Just to make sure we get sea--"
The movie would start in an hour and a half. We sat at the theater cafe (Much classier than American movie theater restaurants, and even offering tiny bottles of rose wine to bring with you to the movie. I love France.) and impatiently ate our snacks.
"What time is it?"
"We still have 50 minutes."
"What time is it?"
We went to the bathroom to prep our bladders for this long and magical journey. We took our seats and felt energetically charged from the mass of fellow Potter fans around us. Stefany inserted her candy vampire fangs she had just purchased. I arranged my popcorn. As the lights dimmed, we were good to go. "Suck it, American friends," I thought with great love and respect.
To me, Harry Potter 7 was everything that I had hoped. It gratified my two weeks of anticipation and utter geekdom. It was the best film of the series so far, and made me so unbearably excited for the sequel in July. How will I make it to July?!
My friends at home all think Ron is so hot. I don't get it. Do you think he's attractive? I'm not attracted to anyone in the HP movies, really. Except perhaps Emma Watson, which doesn't do me much good, seeing as she has a vagina and all. Who do you think is hottest in the movie?
Do you like the new Harry Potter movie?
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And here's this, for no reason: