one small corner of the universe

I was cleaning off my desk today and discovered a piece of computer paper with the following list scratched haphazardly in pencil and ink:

cookies/bakies
HP
2 brothers gored in ass–bulls
Blogger: real name?
tic-tac commercials
baby arms & legs –> crib
sickness
Astelin–taste
book 7, movie 5

I had to read over it a few times to realize that it was a list of things I wanted to blog about. It is a testament to their significance, or lack thereof, that I don’t even remember a few of them. The ass-goring, for example. I think that was a news headline that greeted me one morning; I was amused and thought it deserved some attention. Or not. I think, however, that the remainder of the list is intact somewhere in my brain, particularly the last item, as I am placing full responsibility for my weeks and weeks of silence on the head of Harry Potter. Perhaps I’ll start there.

book 7/movie 5: I started reading HP and the Sorcerer’s Stone in December, a few days after I had Mia. Let me clarify: I started RE-reading it. I believe this was read #5. I finished it sometime in early July. Don’t be alarmed, I am not a slow reader; there was a period of several months when no reading of any kind occurred in my house. I had stopped somewhere around the initial arrival at Hogwarts, and that’s where I started a few weeks ago. I sped through the remaining chapters. I moved on to The Chamber of Secrets. And then to Prisoner of Azkaban (my all-time favorite). And so on. You get the picture. My sleep suffered, as did my eating habits, fashion sense, and, on some days once I hit Order of the Phoenix, my hygiene*. Rest assured, my child did not suffer, unless you count that one day I was reading and forgot to give her the afternoon bottle. In my defense, she didn’t protest–she was in the process of self-adjusting some of her eating habits and had been showing little interest in that particular bottle, but I continued to offer it anyway. But on that day, when I realized that I’d read and she’d played right through a feeding, I freaked out a little. It was the same week of the news story about the couple who allowed their children to starve and be picked up by child services because they were too busy playing online video games. I could just see my own headline plastered on the internet: Mom Forgets to Feed Infant–Too Busy Reading Harry Potter.

Anyway. I mostly read during naps and into the night, and in spite of the 6 months it took me to re-read the first book, I sped through the others. I was preparing myself for the two big premieres. I knew once The Deathly Hallows hit the shelves I would have to read it as soon as possible, but I had read The Half-Blood Prince so fast that I had forgotten a great deal of it–hence my re-read campaign. And like many other Harry geeks, I wanted to re-read OOTP before I saw the movie, something I still have yet to do. When I finished The Deathly Hallows on Sunday it was like coming out of a dream–and in a way, that’s exactly what happened. When I read the Harry Potter books I am truly immersed in the fantasy. I want to have magical abilities, and I want to visit Hogsmeade, and I want (quite desperately, actually) to be able to Apparate and Disapparate. But when I read that final page, the regret I was expecting with the ending of the series didn’t come. I was almost relieved. Don’t get me wrong–nothing has changed, I still love the stories and will most likely read them all again, and probably again. But it was high time I started spending time with the three-dimensional people.

I will reserve my opinions about Book 7 for a later time, because, as I understand it, there are still a few people who haven’t read it yet.

On with my list.

cookies/bakies: Have you seen that commercial? The one where the guy doesn’t understand why cookies are called cookies, because cooking’s really got nothing to do with it? How true. Why ARE they called cookies?

HP: I believe this refers to my above epistle about the Boy Who Lived. I am sure I was going to use it as an excuse for not blogging. Which I have done. Did you notice the title? I feel certain it was not lost on my fellow Harryphiles.

Blogger–real name?: I had to think about this for a while, but then it hit me. Once upon a time, when most of us blogged at Blogger, my posts and comments were always signed hd. Now, suddenly and without any action on my part, my comments on Blogger blogs are signed with my real name. Why is this? Not that it matters, most of you know my real name anyway. It’s just a curious mystery.

tic-tac commercials: Clearly I pay too much attention to television commericals, but is anyone else as irritated as I am by those ads in which the people’s mouths appear to be possessed by something that’s trying very hard to escape? Or that girl juggles tic-tacs with her tongue? I want to throw things at my TV when I see those commericals.

Baby arms & legs –> crib: I have been meaning to seek adivce about this for some time, but since I scribbled that hasty little note I have had to solve this problem on my own. Thanks to mesh and velcro, I am happy to say I have not had to pry my kid’s arms and thighs out of the crib slats for some time. Has that happened to any of you? It’s damn scary. Of course, I always imagine the worst: tiny femurs snapping, limbs being torn from their sockets. See, I had to do something. For crap’s sake, it’s a crib, not a Rottweiler. So thanks to the taut mesh panels that now surround the crib, I haven’t been greeted by this in over a week:

sickness: I was sick. Now I’m not. It sucked, but it hardly seems important to mention now. I’m sure I was going to use it as an excuse for not blogging, but I believe a certain fictional character is shouldering all of that blame just fine, thank you.

Astelin–taste: However, thanks to the aforementioned sickness, which was either a cold or an allergy-induced sinus infection, I convinced my doctor to give me a prescription for Astelin. I was sneezing constantly and uncontrollably, and it was positively miserable, and I was convinced Astelin would solve all my problems. Admittedly, I saw an immediate change in my allergies, and I hardly sneeze at all anymore. But let me just tell you, there is no bold print large enough, no warning dire enough, to prepare you for the taste that is Astelin. Who knew a nose spray could taste so horrible? There are suggestions in the instructions for avoiding swallowing the spray and coming into contact with the taste, but if you manage, as I so often do, to get the stuff anywhere near a tastebud, you will taste nothing else for hours, and everything you eat or drink will be tainted. People, I’m telling you right now, Astelin is what evil tastes like.

And finally, off the list but significant nonetheless, my daughter turned 7 months old last week. Now I am not one but two months behind on my monthly updates. At least she doesn’t suffer the same neglect this blog has been suffering.

*I forgot to add this footnote. Lo reminded me. Now I don’t remember what clever thing I was going to say about my neglected hygiene. Is neglected hygiene ever clever? I didn’t think so. I’ll leave it at that.