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.
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.
(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!
(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: