Having returned from America last Friday and finally recovered from the jet lag, on Tuesday morning (I know, morning is a dedicated time for us teens to be awake and ready) a couple of friends and I began the daunting challenge of a Harry Potter marathon: i.e., watching every single film, back-to-back. It started well, but with our numbers dwindling from three to two by half way through the third film and the time already being 7:30, we knew that this was going to be difficult. However, we dutifully stayed up until some unnatural time in the morning, and I finally decided we'd had enough by the end of the fifth film - by which time I had been kicked off the sofa by both friend and dog, who were both snoring whilst I sat, thoroughly uncomfortable, but solely immersed in the wonderful wizarding world of Hogwarts.
That was a very dramatic way of beginning a post, because I have a very dramatic announcement to make: tomorrow, I am leaving this muggle life to join Harry, Ron and Hermione in their magic-filled lives and I shall be starting at Hogwarts this September.
I wish.
Basically, the point of this post is to share with you all my sadness and regret about the fact that I am not enrolled in the best school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world and thereby asking/demanding of whoever is its current head teacher (bc no more Dumbledore *cry face*) is as to why this is. Honestly, someone must have sent a very old and slightly decrepit owl to deliver my Hogwarts letter, as I'm still waiting for its arrival, five years later.
I remember being secretly devastated at the end of the summer, 2009, when little 11-year-old me had not received said letter, after having already read all HP books and consequently had life changed (obviously). I just kept asking myself: why? Why am I not good enough? Do I not possess any magical ability at all? *cue sad piano music* Why did JK Rowling create such a truly amazing series of books, only to disappoint millions of children by sending incredibly ineffectual and lazy post owls? Gosh.
On that subject, it is in fact the genius/queen/wonder herself's birthday today. Hope you had a fab day, JK (no rhyming pun intended).
Returning back to my rant, you have to admit, wouldn't it just be special? Crashing successfully through the gap between platforms 9 and 10 before boarding the red choo choo as it chug chugs (pls don't scoff at vocab here) along towards the most amazing and beautiful and colossal and great and awe-inspiring (I could go on) castle in the world and spending your educational years by casting charms, getting lost amongst the moving staircases, and conversing with nearly headless ghosts? (eg, "we're here for you Nick; maybe the headless hunt isn't so great anyway")
Therefore, I conclude this post with a final statement: I believe we've all been invited, but the letters just haven't turned up yet... So keep wishing and swishing that chopstick (makeshift wand - please tell me I'm not the only one - ps not a euphemism) and dream of magical places and moments still to come.
Thanks for reading my little wish list,
The very (dreamy and) happy blogger xxxxxxxx
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