It was time again to re-read the Harry Potter series. I had hoped to tackle all seven glorious books in one week but that was more than this muggle swish could handle. However, today I finished Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and I was gobsmacked at how moved I was by the last two chapters. After the horrific happenings at the Triwizard Tournament Harry must tell all that happened. I was in tears several times and so thankful for J.K. Rowling and her splendid storytelling ability. The heart of it. The soul of it. There’s an essence of human love and understanding in there that I seldom come across in books. It’s gratifying. Tonight I start the fifth book as things at Hogwarts and in the wizard world grow ever more sinister.
I‘m enjoying reading this book. But I just don’t understand why publishers don’t hire fact checkers anymore. The author refers to “The Music Man’s Henry Hill.” No, it’s Harold Hill. No one could look that up on IBDB? Plus the words “The Music Man” ought to be italicized. Does nothing matter anymore?
I need to start blogging again. I need to write more. I need to take charge, goddamnit, and say something interesting. Meanwhile, here is a photo of me at one with the rocks. I am grossly fat and I hate the way I look. I have an eating disorder. All I eat for dinner is pizza and red wine. It’s sorta sad but sorta predictable. I want to be more of a person in ways other than physical. As in, oh, you’re not fat, there’s just more of you to love. BULLSHIT. The fat pushes the love away. Blah blah blah freaking blah. But okay, here I have made a blog post. The first in centuries. So maybe that’s a damn start.
Watched the first episode of this new “Sherlock” on PBS last night and I’m in love. Love the idea and love the fun and love the silliness and the underlying sexiness of it and I’m equally in love with both lead actors which just shows how impossible it is for me to make any sort of a decision, being a rampant raging Gemini from the ground up. Benedict Cumberbatch is lithe and lanky and completely British and snooty and odd and my goodness how can you expect me not to be in love with a young Brit actor whose name is Benedict CUMBERBATCH with those cheekbones you could slice, well, you could slice a whole batch of cumber with if a batch of cumber could be sliced. The show has brains and wit and oodles — yes, goddamned OODLES of charm. Then there’s Martin Freeman as Dr. Watson who has one of the best haircuts I have ever witnessed, I kid you not. His every confused glance in the first hour is just breathtaking. And the relationship of these too classic characters retold in a present day setting is just jam-packed with joy for those of us who are fans of Sherlock Holmes. Cumberbatch. Seriously. Come and get me.
You can watch online here.
I have been working on a Tumblr. blog for a while now and now I’m sharing it with you. It’s just mostly random images that amuse or impress me. Warning: there’s a lot of BLUE material on tumblr and so I take no responsibility for what you should come across should you click on any of the images I’ve reblogged to my tumblr blog. The images are mostly just images without my interference or blather. Enjoy, or don’t, that’s completely up to you. I have made a link over there on the right that takes you there. I know, it’s too large. I know. I’m not a techno-wunderkind. I’m just pissy old swishy me, trying to make my way in this weary world.
Originally uploaded by The Flaming Curmudgeon.