Accio HP7!
Remember when I said that all my god-given rationality falls away when someone or something attempts to deny me access to my stories?
Yeah. The metaphorical poo has hit the metaphorical fan.
Here is the situation:
I am going home the weekend HP7 is released to - officially - hang out with my parents and get an MRI on my knee but mostly just to get the last book in the cover of choice (ie, the Canadian cover, so that when I line up all my HP books they are aesthetically pleasing.) I asked my very kind and beautiful mother to reserve a copy for me from one of the chain stores I normally don't condescend to buy from, because those stores are guaranteed to be open at midnight the day of the release. She very kindly and beautifully did so. Only, she reserved a copy from an inconveniently-located suburban branch that is hard to get to from my house, as opposed to the conveniently-located downtown branch that is only one 10-minute bus ride or one 10-dollar cab ride away. I'm not even sure that cabs and buses go to the suburban branch!
My mum has stated that she will not drive me to the store at midnight, because she doesn't love me. I think she thinks I am too old for this. She doesn't really understand the situation. I have been reading and re-reading the books for years; I have sophisticated theories on how the final show-down will end; I secretly covet t-shirts that say "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes". If I do not get my copy of this book at midnight on Friday, July 21, I will not sleep the whole night. Guaranteed.
Obviously the only solution is to manipulate my long-suffering mother into driving me at midnight, even though it is a full two hours after her bedtime and the lines will probably be an hour long. I have decided that the best way to achieve this is one or more of the following:
1. threaten to ride my dad's bike with my bad knee to the far-away bookstore, in the dark, without a light or helmet;
2. threaten to hire an expensive car service;
3. cry.
Any suggestions for further manipulation tactics are welcome.
Yeah. The metaphorical poo has hit the metaphorical fan.
Here is the situation:
I am going home the weekend HP7 is released to - officially - hang out with my parents and get an MRI on my knee but mostly just to get the last book in the cover of choice (ie, the Canadian cover, so that when I line up all my HP books they are aesthetically pleasing.) I asked my very kind and beautiful mother to reserve a copy for me from one of the chain stores I normally don't condescend to buy from, because those stores are guaranteed to be open at midnight the day of the release. She very kindly and beautifully did so. Only, she reserved a copy from an inconveniently-located suburban branch that is hard to get to from my house, as opposed to the conveniently-located downtown branch that is only one 10-minute bus ride or one 10-dollar cab ride away. I'm not even sure that cabs and buses go to the suburban branch!
My mum has stated that she will not drive me to the store at midnight, because she doesn't love me. I think she thinks I am too old for this. She doesn't really understand the situation. I have been reading and re-reading the books for years; I have sophisticated theories on how the final show-down will end; I secretly covet t-shirts that say "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes". If I do not get my copy of this book at midnight on Friday, July 21, I will not sleep the whole night. Guaranteed.
Obviously the only solution is to manipulate my long-suffering mother into driving me at midnight, even though it is a full two hours after her bedtime and the lines will probably be an hour long. I have decided that the best way to achieve this is one or more of the following:
1. threaten to ride my dad's bike with my bad knee to the far-away bookstore, in the dark, without a light or helmet;
2. threaten to hire an expensive car service;
3. cry.
Any suggestions for further manipulation tactics are welcome.
posted by j | 1:06 PM
1 Comments:
Harry Potter is a fag.
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