HP On My Mind

All thanks to brother dear, I got to watch the advanced, no ticket-sale screening for Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.


In light of recent events, finding out that I would be able to watch the first-ever screening of the latest movie installment in the Harry Potter franchise has been quite the pleasant surprise. I've been antsy the entire day, looking at the clock every 5 minutes, willing it to move faster. Finally, the time has come for us to leave the house.

Now if you know me at all, you'd know that I'm a die-hard Harry Potter fan. The first Potter book was the first ever book I finished reading by myself back when I was 11 (and even then, I finished it in one sitting!) I personally feel emotionally attached to the series, and every year, during my birth month (YES! FATE! I even share the month with Harry and authoress JKR), I would bug my dad to get me the latest HP book. 4 Books into that, the first movie came out and even whilst I found myself disappointed, I've always had a special place in my heart for them. I grew up with these kids. They are my memories. When the 7th book came out, I read it in record time and I found myself crying and applauding, basically looking like a lunatic, after turning the last page. I felt robbed and bereft of something I anticipate all through-out the year, annually. Nevertheless, I consoled myself with the fact that I would still be waiting for 3 movies. Now the list has been cut to two, and again, I'm starting to feel the coming of the end of an era.

The Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince movie has been the most different out of all 6 movies. This time around, the movie focuses more on the teenagers than the adults. Indeed, they hardly had any screen time at all (except for Michael Gambon's Dumbledore and Jim Broadbent's Slughorn). The kids are older, experimenting more with relationships. The book, probably the darkest of all 6 books, differ a lot from it's movie adaptation. The movie has been the funniest so far and I kind of enjoyed that feel to it. In contrast to Ron and Hermione's and Harry and Ginny's relationship (or lack thereof) woes is Draco's thirst to prove himself in the dark side.


The verdict? The movie was okay. Just okay. Nothing spectacular, but not completely disappointing in it's entirety. Jim Broadbent made a wonderful Slughorn, coming alive in every scene. Tom Felton's performance, in my opinion, was the most outstanding. He was fantastic! He really captured the inner conflict Draco was struggling with -- wanting to prove he can avenge their family name but at the same time, realizing that being the regular school jackass is a lot different from being an actual death eater. Another great performance was that of Helena Bonham Carter as Bellatrix LeStrange, but that needn't be said. She is terrific in everything. This movie is a refreshing change from it's predecessors. I daresay the fans of the book may have contrasting feelings (such as myself) about the movie, but overall, it wasn't a complete waste.


And I have to add, EVERYONE GREW INTO THEMSELVES. The movie is full of beautiful people. Even creepy Cormac MgLaggen stole my heart. :P

Wizard kid,
Essa.

Polaroid Madness

In this new age of state-of-the-art digital cameras, Polaroids have become a thing of the past. And while I scour ebay for a Polaroid camera that has my name written on it, I have to make do with photoshopping an endless stream of photos I wish to add to my Polaroid wall. The authenticity isn't there, and the exposures and rawness of form of Polaroids are lacking, but beggars can't be choosers. Nevertheless, here's a few I'm having printed and adding to my wall. Hopefully, they aren't that bad.



















Voila! Polaroid Madness for the moment.

Pretty happy,
Essa.

4:56 7/8/9 -- 10

An idea borrowed from the Wizard of oohs and ahhs and falala's, Mr. A-Z.

Precisely at this moment, my clock says 4:56 07-08-09. In honor of this momentous event, I, probably along with more than half of Jason's readers, offer up 10 things I'm grateful for:

1.) Books, books, and more books.
2.) Post-birthday high (along with the birthday gifts!)
3.) My very loud, very boisterous, very rambunctious clan (and our love for each other)
4.) Very good music from incredibly great artists
5.) Non-stop soul searching
6.) Coffee (because nothing is more calming)
7.) The weather
8.) Dogs!
9.) The premier tickets for the Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince movie (no matter how shallow some people might think that sounds)
10.) Thrifting -- because one man's trash is another man's treasure.

Take, for example, these glasses I found:













The grade of the lens aren't a match to my eye grade, but that can easily be remedied. All I have to do now is have the lens changed and voila! New Vintage (he he! oxymoron...) Glasses. The last person I can remember seeing with glasses this huge is my Paternal Grandfather who passed away almost a decade ago. Here's to you, Gramps.

On cloud 9,
Essa

P.S. Forgive the quality of the photos, they were taken via my laptop having just woken up from sleep -- with no shower, teeth unbrushed, face unwashed.

My two pennies worth.

From the mind of a keen observer of the human condition:

I find it strange how people are more affected by death when a public figure dies than when someone they actually know/ knew passes away. Just because they didn't have the same range of impact doesn't make it any less tragic.

I'll say it one last time and that's it for me -- RIP MJ.

We've all paid our respects. We've all paid our dues. Stop being hypocrites -- he was capable of terrible things and you were all ready to hang him before his death. He left a debt of 400 million to his children -- where's your sympathy for them?

Not to say that he wasn't great. He was a great performer. Really, it was a loss to music, a very sad day for music. His talent was unquestionable, unfailing until the end, but this does not mean that he was a devastating loss to the human race.

What really irks me is that his swarm of admirers seem to have taken little to no account of all his sins. We are not all immediately fated to be either sinners or saints. I'm sure Hitler had done some good deeds in his life, were those taken into account? I'm sure Nero didn't just think "Hey, I think I'll take the Roman empire down" the minute he was able to think for himself -- does anyone care about that? Why is it that we so readily want to put a stamp in their epitaphs -- good or evil? Can't we accept that these are PEOPLE, all of which has had some good points and some bad points? Do we always have to label? Can we feel sympathy for him but not pretend like we didn't give a rat's ass about his misgivings (because really, that's what everyone is doing)? Why is it that you don't see normal, regular people spam their pages with tales of despair when someone they know dies? Is it just another case of people jumping to join the band wagon?

This entire thing just seems to resemble a charade than an actual time of grievance to me. I'm sure emotions were not faked, but why does it have to be broadcasted world wide?

It's a terrible terrible state of affairs when one is only exonerated after death (not to say that he deserved or didn't deserve to be vindicated.) Just my tuppence worth.

Confuzzled,
Essa.

No rest for the wicked.

Yestertuesday, my sister and her daughter arrived from The Land of the Merlion. We haven't seen each other since forever ago when a couple of my siblings and I visited her family there last March. Stoked to be seeing their beautiful faces, I was part of the entourage who volunteered to brave the roads at 4 in the morning to pick them up at the airport. Famous to my family as being a creature of the night (or early morn), when I own the moment, Papa the Rolling Stone tasked me with making like a rooster and waking them all up from their slumber. I do as I am told -- shaking bodies, irritating voice and all, disturbing their peace and depriving them of sleep. They roll out of bed, bleary eyed and throaty voiced as they scramble off to their respective bathrooms hurrying to get ready.

As we leave the house, annoying habits emerge. Nail biting, finger tapping, lip biting, tongue clucking as we anxiously await their arrival. We look at the terminal, not once blinking as we search the near-empty area for a familiar face. Suddenly, my eyes focus on on two lone figures. Their faces are covered half-way by masks -- a must for travelers thanks to the A(H1N1) pandemic. My heart thumps, my breath catches. "They're hereeee!" I scream when I'm sure it's them. As they spot us, a feeling of rightness takes place. Completion. We hug, we kiss, we laugh as all of us try to dim out the sappiness of the moment -- no Pamandanan is sappy. As this is happening, Hugh Grant's speech from Love Actually plays on my mind. Airports truly are one of the happiest places on earth.


We load their luggage and we ride the car, all as if nothing has ever happened. We pick up right where we left off. We stop by a McDonald's, break our fast, and head home. As we arrive, the house becomes alive with laughter and merriment. The dogs are excited, the house help are excited, we're excited.

Our bodies soon feel the fatigue as days of preparation decide to take it's toll. We are lucky, for the visitors feel the need to rest as well -- thanks, red-eye. We wake up, not so long after just closing our eyes. The day awaits!


None of us are that eager to venture outside the confines of our home, but 2 of my sisters and I have been wanting to chop off our hair. Goodbye, long locks. You've been a friend, but the heat is infernal and I need to take refuge where I can.


The evening found us at my Aunt's dining room, shamelessly finishing her grocery stock. We looked at old photos and did more catching up before beautiful dawn called on us and good manners dictated that we allow our Aunt and her family to rest.

On that note, I'm allowing my fingers to rest and will get back to you with more updates on the morrow. DVDs, I hope you're ready to damage my eyes even more.



ALL GOOD THINGS,
Essa

Succubus Mum

I just finished reading the latest book on Richelle Mead's Georgina Kincaid series and I am left with a thousand of spoiler-ish questions that I presume the author would not answer.

Before you look at me that way, yes, I dare speculate, COULD A BABY BE ON THE WAY FOR G & S?! Man, I hope so.

Aside from the fact that I LIVE vicariously through the characters in the novels I do so love to read, I just wish to put a damper on the whole Seth-Maddie nuptials. Yes, kinda bitchy. But I'm team Georgie all the way! Besides, I'd like to see how new roomie -- and ex boyfriend -- Roman would deal with the pregnant succubus... as well as how her demon friends, and angelic one, would respond. I have a little part of me that's shipping for Georgina and Carter (you can't get more star-crossed than that!), and well, all hope is not lost yet.

To stress the point more about Nyx's version of Georgina's future... I gotta say I'm not convinced that G getting Godiva was purely coincidental.

I guess I just have to wait for the next book, out April 2010, to satiate my curiosity. Ugh. It cannot come out soon enough.

On the bright side, The next Vampire Academy is out August! YAY!

Dorka-dork dork,
Essa

Friday, I'm In Love.

There's nothing that warms the heart more than a pup that's only got love to give. Cats may be less maintenance, but who says high maintenance is a bad thing? Dogs are loyal and sweet -- and indeed, man's best friend.

My good friend, Alyssa, had to go out of town for a few days and had nowhere to leave her precious new toy poodle, Friday. Wanting to help out, I offered to let Friday share the house with my sibling's shitzu, Kiwi, and my lhasa apso, Nana (because really, they're the masters of the house).

We expected to enjoy having Friday over, what none of us expected was to fall in love. Friday has managed to creep his way into our little hearts and has firmly demanded to stay there.

Just to share with you kiddies the adorable-ness that is Friday, here's a picspam:










View all of the pics, in raw form, over at my multiply!

Peace & All good things,
Essa.