Back-story. Usually in the morning I need to wash and style my hair. If I wear it long that is a commitment of a half hour to 45 minutes. If I pull it back while it is wet into a braid then a knot at the nape of my neck it takes thirty seconds.

But I had my hair cut last night and miraculously it looks ok this morning. I think. I’m not sure.

“Stuart, do I need to wash and do my hair or does it look okay?”

“It looks great Thomas.”

“Really? Or should I wash and style it?”

“It looks great Thomas.”

“Really?

“I said really.”

“It’s just that sometimes I can tell you tell me things that I want to hear and not the truth, but I don’t want you to tell me what I want to hear. I want the truth.”

“Thomas, I’m not stupid.”

“I’m serious Stuart! Do I need to style it or is this okay?”

“Let’s put it this way. You’ve gone to work looking much worse. . .What! What did I say?”

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Having a really bad sore throat for four days with a low fever (that you whinge about constantly and make everyone you know touch your forehead to see if you are warm.)

Eating Chicken Balti at 10 PM.

Watching The Shining right before you go to sleep. The whole red-ruming thing.

Sharing your bed with someone who sleep twitches, digging his nails into your skin and or uses your head as a pillow.

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It could have been terrible- adapting a book that is big enough to be a weapon of mass destruction but Michael Goldenberg pares 870 pages down to a lean and very mean 138 minutes.

There has been much talk about how dark this film is and anyone who has read the books thinks, “Well DUH.” The only reason why I enjoy this series is that the stakes get higher each year. A mass murderer that killed your parents and your friends parents, disrupted life as you know it and is coming after you and everyone you care about is not exactly the stuff of sweetness and light. Roger Ebert’s review is deliciously off base on this issue: “My hope, as we plow onward through “Potters” Nos. 6-7, is that the series will not grow darker still.”

Roger, mate? Are you high?

Anyhoo. Imelda Staunton is spot on as Dolores Umbridge. If you aren’t certain the moment she speaks in her simpering little voice that she is evil, the collection of hundreds of cat plates in her office confirms it.

The Weasley Twins exit from Hogworts, while it doesn’t live up to what my little brain imagined is still very satisfying in its destruction.

A big win of this film is Mr. Grint has been taking acting classes or he has been reading his Stanislavski because he is finally relaxed and isn’t mugging for the camera every two seconds. (Saw him in a TV movie called Driving Lessons with Julie Walters, who plays his mum in the HP films and he was excellent.)

Is this adaptation a lot different from the book? Yes. Are there some things that when I think back that I wish could have been included? Sure. Do I think they did the right thing by cutting it down? Most definitely.

An adaptation of a book into cinematic dramatic action is a totaly different animal.

Going forward, I am a little worried that they haven’t set up certain things in this and the previous films so there is a lot of work to be done.

My three big concerns.

Neville, Ginny and especially Snape. I won’t say why for the three of you that don’t read the books but watch the films.

In any case, it’s a good film and well worth seeing.

Next weekend after I recover from my Birthday party hangover, I will be hiding myself away to read book seven. It will probably knowing me, take a day and a half.

Sometimes I wished I read slower so I could savor the things I enjoy.

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Originally uploaded by treefrog girl.

Back from the sales conference in Lisbon! I was able to do a little sight seeing Sunday which was good as I was stuck inside watching presentations Monday and Tuesday wishing desperately that someone would kill me so that it would all be over. There was a party Monday night which ended at 2AM but we ended up at a night club dancing until 5:30 in the morning.

I had forgotten how fun that can be.

I had also forgotten what a bad idea it is when you need to get up in the morning to be out until 5:30 in the morning.

Click on the picture to see more pictures of views of Lisbon, an 11th century castle, other points of interest as well as drunken ridiculousness.

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I don’t feel like a grown-up, which is silly as I am looking at my 37th birthday in a few weeks and I am staring to notice things on my face that I might change if I was inclined to do plastic surgery. I have a feeling I will be pottering around when I’m 80 still feeling like I am a twelve-year-old idiot.

If you’re wondering what made me think of this, I leave tomorrow morning at the ungodly hour of five flippen o’fuckme clock for a business trip.

Saying you are leaving on a business trip sounds very grown-up. I imagine people that take business trips to look like Fred McMurray in My Three Sons. Serious, respectable, a good stand-up citizen. You know, a grown-up.

I am so not a grown-up.

I would eat ice cream for every meal if I didn’t know that it would make my already huge backside into something like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. In Ghostbusters. That’s a lot of ass.

But I am going on a business trip, so I guess I am a little adult like.

I will be in Lisbon for a conference. I have no idea about what. I’m hoping I nod my head at the right moments. Maybe I will wear my glasses. I suspect the work They’s think I’m somewhat capable because I wear glasses.

The work thing starts Monday so I have all day tomorrow in Lisbon. I’m thinking instead of doing any sight seeing, I may just sit at the pool and read. Maybe the last Harry Potter. . .

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I tricked Them (the work them, not the government them) into thinking I am smart and capable.

I got the gig.

In a month I will be a Training Specialist instead of a Search Media Strategist.

I will need to work very, very hard to hide the fact that I am a complete idiot.

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My office is a big glass modern monstrosity a hop skip and a jump from Victoria station. Tuesday there was some commotion out on Victoria Street. Lots of cops, the street was blocked off with police tape, no traffic moving. We watched for a few minutes. I decided to go back to my desk, “Let me know if something blows up.”

Later we heard that it wasn’t a bomb or a suspected bomb but that a police officer had been stabbed. We were all rather relieved. “Someone was JUST stabbed! Oh good!”

They kept the street blocked off for hours. At lunch in the canteen Ali suggested that we do a relay run from one end of the police tape to the other to see how far we could get before we were shot.

Ravleen held up a butter knife, “And we can pass knifes back and forth!”

Khaled pulled his hoodie up over his head, “And we could wear hoodies!”

“And we could wear rucksacks with wires sticking out!” Al added.

We laughed.

The next day I was looking for a rubbish bin in Victoria station and I couldn’t find one. I finally went up to one of the station workers and asked where it was.

“Oh, Miss. Just set it down on the ground. We will pick it up.”

“But. . . ohhh. . . Is it because of the bombs?”

He nodded. “Yes, Miss.”

I set the bag in a corner, walked to the platform and took the train home.

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E finished his last interview for the gig we both want today so we should hear soon about the outcome. We’re not sure who else was in the loop for it. I’ll laugh if neither of us gets it.

We both want it really, really bad and are trying to be supportive of each other while hoping that we get to be the one buying the other consolation drinks.

It’s an odd feeling. Hoping someone does well but still wanting them to fail. Well not fail. Just that you do better.

I’ve been rather Zen. Whatever happens, happens.

If I don’t get it however, I am consuming an enormous hot fudge sundae. That is if I can find hot fudge in this flippen town.

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“Vegetarians are the enemy of everything good and decent in the human spirit, an affront to all I stand for, the pure enjoyment of food” - Anthony Bourdain

I’m making a roast dinner tonight for a ridiculous amount of people, which always seems to be the way that I do these things. I think the final number will be 9 so it isn’t too terrible.

Aaron and Gina are visting and I thought it would be fun for their last Sunday here to do the Roast Dinner thing.

Le Menu

Beef Rib Eye

Yorkshire puddings from scratch (I bought some frozen ones from the store for backup)

Roasted Potatoes

Portobello mushrooms stuffed with a spinach and goat cheese (Is really yummy. Saute a small onion and a clove or two of garlic. Pop out the stem and roast the mushrooms for 10-15 minutes in the oven. Steam the spinach. Let it drain then chop it up. Add it to the onions, take off the heat, add some tarragon and a bit of red pepper and the goat cheese. Stuff the mushrooms, add a bit of goat cheese on top, stick in the oven – 190C for ten minutes or so until the cheese is melted and a touch brown)

Sautéed courgettes (zucchini)

Big salad

Apple crumble and custard (store bought)

Fruit

Last night Stuart said, “Claudia is coming.”

“Oh good,” I say. Claudia is Richard’s girlfriend. Not only is she lovely, kind and smart, she is sane.

“She’s a vegetarian.”

“It’s a roast dinner.”

Stuart shrugged.

“Why was Richard bringing a vegetarian to dinner without telling me?”

Stuart shrugged.

Is no biggie. I won’t use beef fat in the Yorkshire puddings, and I won’t look high and low for duck fat for the potatoes and I am adding a polenta & cheese thingy and roasted red peppers to le menu.

And I am going to make an even bigger salad.

Bloody vegetarians.

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