The other night, Savannah and I watched the Deathly Hallows Pt. I and II, and we sobbed, sweater cuffs to eyes, when we watched Snape's memories play back in the pensieve. I think there's a lot JK Rowling doesn't understand, but I do think she understands tragic love.
Immediately after that we watched The Hunger Games (But Better), and I went to bed. Except I stayed up and watched the entirety of the first Hunger Games film and cried when Rue died and District 11 rioted. It’s possible I needed to cry for other reasons, and this was just the way out.
Savannah's dad took us to Portugalia, where we saw all this food in huge crocks. This is how life is supposed to be, I think. I also want basically all of the stoneware for my kitchen once I break more of the Dansk plates I have, which I found out are entirely American.
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For the duration of the trip, I kept looking at myself in the bathroom mirror and thinking, “this is your face now.” As in, “this is your face at this very moment,” and “your face really does change with time.” Maybe I will think this every time I look in the mirror for the rest of my life.
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| my current face |
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