Gone Punting

I'm what you might call a contrarian in that I very rarely like what's really popular, and I often will dislike things just based on the fact that that people have a fanatical devotion to it. (This could be one reason why I dislike NYC, to be honest, but it probably has more to do with the fact that I've seen what the rest of the world has to offer--and the fact that NYC is always the first thing to get destroyed in disaster movies.) So while everyone was going to see New Moon this weekend, I started re-reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. And it's even better than I remember! Though... I really don't remember all that much of it.

FLASHBACK!

Deathly Hallows actually came out the summer I was studying abroad in England. Everyone on the trip (except for one or two people, I would say) teased me about being so excited to go buy it at midnight... but I was really worried because we were supposed to be traveling that weekend to Warwick University, and I wasn't sure if they would have a bookstore there that would be open at midnight. Thankfully, the English are quite worshipful of their national cashcow and the university bookstore had a little release party.

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(And, of course, everyone on the trip ended up coming with me to buy a copy! haha)

I actually think some element of kismet was at work because we were supposed to go see a play at Stratford-Upon-Avon, but it was the summer of all the terrible flooding and all of the roads were closed. Anyway, so as you can see, I did get my Deathly Hallows at midnight!

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(This was after the outlets at Cambridge melted the plates off my flatiron, hence the creative braiding that ensued for the rest of the month.)

I reserved the children's edition (but of course!), but unlike it's US counterpart, it doesn't have illustrations inside. So now, I actually get to re-experience the book in a different way and enjoy all of the chapter spot art (and the Americanization of the text). I ended up being the first one to finish the book on the trip--because I was the only nutso that stayed up until 4 AM reading when when we had to get up 7 AM the next morning--and spent the last thirty minutes of the bus ride back to Cambridge crying my eyes out. I read it so quickly that I devoured it and didn't savor it like I should have--but how could you not tear through that book?

Anyway, rereading the book has made me really nostalgic for the magical slice of heaven that is Cambridge. I don't have anything else to add to this entry, other than a few prettyful pictures that are demanding to be seen: cam1 cam3

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