Thursday, December 1, 2011

Danger Gets Stranger

Once upon a time, I was fearless.  I ran along the edge of sheer cliffs just to make my dad nervous.  I splashed in puddles during thunderstorms.  I climbed out onto house roofs to reach the good mulberries at the top of the tree.  I raced my bike down steep fleets of stairs ending in busy streets.  With no spotter.

There's something about getting older that reminds you how much there is to be afraid of.  You would think that, as you learn and grow. . .and survive each day. . .you would have a newfound respect for survival and a confidence in your ability to refrain from peril.  But no.  That's not how it works.  Somehow, you realize how lucky you are.  How endlessly insane it is that you are still alive.  After all that you've done that would suggest the contrary.

When I was locked in my parents' upstairs bathroom, I didn't give it a second's thought that the best way to solve my predicament should be to crawl out the window and use the drainpipe to obtain access to the open window one room over. That's the obvious solution.



While my problem wasn't self-made. . .I did not hesitate to use it as an excuse to do something thrilling and dangerous.  Who did I think I was?  I look back on that and I wonder. . ."[expletive]. . .What would have happened if I had fallen?"

And yet, I did stupid tricks like that all the time. . .and often, I did fall.  But I always got right back up again.  Sure, I was a little worse for wear and lived, like almost everyone, my entire childhood with bumps, bruises and scrapes.  Bandaids and Neosporin were my best friend.  Along with my Johnny Switchblade Adventure Punk and my Bag-O-Glass (see video below.)


I find myself increasingly fearful of 'getting back on the mountain goat' so to speak, however.  When I fall [read: fail] I can't help but kick myself while I'm down and express some bizarre version of post-traumatic stress disorder.

In January of 09, I was on my way to do some laundry at my in-laws' house.  It had been snowy and icy lately but I knew how to handle myself.  I mean. . .nothing had happened to me yet. . .so, obviously nothing COULD happen to me, right?  Things just don't happen to you.  I'm driving up the main thoroughfare. . .the road's rather clear since the sun is out and shining. . .and there is little to no traffic.

Except this one guy.  A honkin' red Ford 350 (Idaho, right?) who's having some difficulty remembering that there are two lanes and one of them is mine.  Sure, the white lines are hard to see under some of the packed snow but really.  You live in this town.  We share the road 'round these parts.  He's making me nervous.  Alright, dude.  If you really feel like purchasing your giant truck gives you entitlement to all of your lane and half of mine, I will be the bigger man (and on that note, please remove those ridiculously undersized truck nutz) and give YOU some room.

Whoever said being kind and compassionate got you anywhere in life except last?  As I slowly move my car towards the side of the road, I hit a patch of ice that unfortunately did not feel the inclination to melt in the glorious yet insufficient sunshine.  Nothing matches that feeling of complete and total loss of control.  My car began to turn into that weird rubber pencil trick.

You could tell me over and over and over and over exactly what you're supposed to do in this situation.  You could remind me time and again not to overcorrect.  You could literally get inside of my brain and write all over my cortex, "Drive INTO the swerve!"  It would not matter.  Split second reaction does not equal the legitimacy of physics.

All I could do was try to steer into NOT THAT RED TRUCK.  I am the nicest person in the world.  As I did everything in my power to keep from turning into him, he drove off into the sunset and probably made millions and bought a whole load of truck nutz for his entire family.

I, on the other hand, realized that braking it wasn't working and that I just needed to get off the road.  It was all a blur but I managed to see an open parking lot.  I did not manage to stop short enough to make use of that empty parking lot.  Instead, I am quickly heading towards a storefront ramp bordered by a beautiful clean parked truck on one side and a gleaming mailbox on the other.

By some miracle upon miracles, I came to a sudden and crunching stop.  Right here:


The truck was fine.  The mailbox. . .untouched.  The building?  Turns out it was an optometrist's office and this wide-eyed guy comes out because everyone inside thought the end of the world had come.  My car was definitely the loser of that fight, though the corner of the office did lose some stucco. The guy catches my eye and I sheepishly wave from behind the wheel with a frightened grin on my face.  His head swivels to the parked vehicle. . .then to the mailbox, then back to me.  He says, "Boy howdy, I'm sure glad you missed my new truck."  So was I.

They invite me inside and call emergency and calm me down while I call Adam (who's stuck down at work because I'd dropped him off earlier since his truck stopped going into gear that very morning - WHY, I ask you, WHY does this always happen to us in twos??)  After I stop shaking and crying, I muster the joke that I thought I was going through a drive-thru.  I was due for a new pair of specs.

No severe damage.  To my physical self or the car.  No real blow to the building itself except for a small aesthetic fix.  No deployment of airbags.  All surface damage and a flat tire.



I keep telling Adam he needs to take me to an empty snowy parking lot one of these days and just let me spin around and play, get comfortable.  I realize that, from my comfy dry snow-and-ice free couch, it's much easier to imagine how much fun and games that would be.  Twelve panic attacks later, I may be wondering why in the world I would ever make such an absurd suggestion.

See Consumer Probe on Dangerous Toys like Bag-O-Glass

Thursday, September 22, 2011

This guy is tops

September 16th was a special day.
My awesome rock-my-world husband turned 30 years of age.
I think he looks remarkably preserved.


I was so excited his b-day was going to fall on one of his Fridays off!!  I had so many crazy ideas for what we could do.  Rent an oceanside condo and hope it doesn't rain.  Spend the weekend in the city in some crazy fancy hotel and laugh about how we shouldn't open or touch anything except the free ice.  Or just toss a bunch of money in a pot and let him decide where to go or what to do.

Considering he ended up having to work some over time on the day of, I'm glad none of these plans worked out.  There is a part of me that knows some crazy spontaneous surprise would be just the bees knees.  But, then again, Adam's an old fart who is quite set in his ways.  Plus, you need a credit card to do most of this stuff and we share one so a bunch of frivolous charges showing up might raise an eyebrow or two.

So, I think I did the smart thing by leaving it up to Adam.  Check out his gifts......


I got up as soon as I heard the door close on Friday morning @ around 7:30am.
If there was one thing I knew I could do to make Adam's birthday 1000% awesome, it would be to get all the payday grocery shopping done before he got home.
I had my list ready, dinners lined up, even remembered to grab my grocery bags!!
Got all the way down to my car (and if you have been up and down my steps, adding the flight to the garage, you'll know what I mean) when I realized uh. . .no monies in the bank.
Back up the stairs, shoved the key into my ridiculously sticky lock (hate you!) and made sure to transfer the money I would need.  Man, I'm glad I realized that then instead of at the register with a shopping cart full of sundries.

Shopping at Wal*mart @ 8:30am was like the most blissful shopping experience ever.
It was like I was gliding through the aisles, no old ladies stopping to gab about sores and aching joints, no guttersnipes getting caught up in my wheels, no fiendish track-suit wearing mom grabbing the last bag of the good cinnamon bread!

All the checkers were bright and early, starting their shifts and smiling as they waited for me at their registers.  Oh, which lane to choose?  Which lane to choose?  Any will do, really.

Suffice it to say, it is totally worth getting up super early for that kind of shopping experience.

And it was probably the best birthday present ever.  So says Adam.  And well. . .that's who counts.


The day before, I found Adam's pocket knife which he'd been missing for a week or so.
Since I've got kind of a thing for wrapping anything and everything I can get my hands on (can't wait for you, Christmas!!!!) I just had to.

He was pleasantly surprised, as evidenced by his face.


I know it's super lame to get someone underwear or, if you're a guy and you didn't pick it out, any clothing at all for your birthday.  But seriously.  This boy needed some new church socks.

I believe I spent about an hour to an hour and 15 minutes in the JCPenney mens socks section.
It is super hard to pick out black socks, y'all.
Blast if I didn't just spend 1 minute too long because I got in line behind the ONLY other lady in the store and she had problem after question after coupon after penny.

Adam wore the socks on the following Sunday.  He looked pretty dapper if I do say so myself.  And I did.


I like how this picture looks like he is posing for another camera.  I am the only one there.

A few months ago, I had told Adam I was hoping to plan a little party for him.  It wouldn't be a surprise time or location but I was hoping to have a surprise theme.
I figured since he was turning 30 and becoming a real man and. . .well, real men always have mustaches
(see Ron Swanson). . .a mustache party would be hilarious.
I just kept laughing about it so he says to me, "It isn't gonna be a mustache party, is it?"

.........crickets........

Me:  Haha.  No.

A few days later, I couldn't hold it in anymore.  Not because I can't keep secrets (I'm the best there is) but because I couldn't believe he'd guessed it.  I thought for sure he'd found my secret notes!
I told him.
His reply:  "What?  Really?!  I didn't even know that was a thing!  I was just making it up."

Yeah.  That's why we're married.  Only us.

And the coup de grace.......................





He was so freaking excited about this tablet!  This was his big expensive gift.

And he'd been waiting months and months to get it.

It came in the mail on Tuesday but he had to wait until Friday to open it.  It wasn't a serious rule and, in fact, was one that he came up with.  If pressed, I probably would have let him check it out as soon as it came.

He carefully sliced his knife through the packing tape and raised the lid and. . . . . . . .


Yeah.

Best.  Birthday.  Ever.


After some initial grumbling and crying into my shoulder (not really) it's off to the computer to complain and get a new one sent out right away!!!

Though the mood had turned somewhat sour, we just couldn't stay upset for very long.

Not when there was birthday pie and mustache fun to be had!





Way back when I first got excited about actually planning a surprise mustache party with friends (before Adam decided he wanted it to be just him and me, aw how sweet) I ordered a chocolate mold for mustache lollies.

They turned out amazingly!  And were super delicious.  I am not sorry I dished out $5.00 which was mostly shipping.



I tried to get a picture of Adam with his birthday pie, candles lit, but he blinked!  Then blew out the candles before I could check to make sure the picture came out right.

Always in a rush for pie, that kid.

So, I had him re-light his own candles and go for take two.



And you can't even tell they're lit.  Nice smile, though, Adam.


Eating pie and consoling himself with his laptop; read not a tablet :(


It was pretty good pie.  Thanks Costco.  And Dustin and Michael for dropping off one extra delicious piece with cinnamon on top, specially for the birthday guy.

And. . . .6 days later. . . .


Ah.  Sweet unbroken and time-consuming tablet merriment.

I asked for a smile.


Love my birthday boy.


Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness

I miss my job at Sharp's.  I miss the consistency of a schedule.  I miss the people and the silly fun we had, especially after closing.  Turning every chore into a game.  Freezing people's keys in blocks of ice.  Making instructional videos on how to mop a floor or properly cut an onion; complete with chef who wants to be left alone, annoying host lady who won't shut up and an already finished onion prepared and ready to show.

I miss the regularity of customers I learned to recognize over 4 years.  I miss greeting them by name and ringing up their order before they even approached the counter.  I miss that 6th sense of knowing exactly what people wanted in drive-thru, even if they could never quite vocalize it correctly.

I miss a steady paycheck.  I even miss the times I got all the way to the bank before realizing Bud or John didn't sign it.  I miss knowing every conceivable in and out of a business.  I miss training newbs, learning them up in the ways of the burger ranch.  I miss hearkening back to my first few weeks and using that experience to remind myself how difficult and scary it was so I could make new employees feel more at ease.

I miss Sundays alone, sliding my glasses down to the end of my nose as I added up the profits of the week and recorded them with precision in "the book," putting the ice cream machine back together and pretending like I was building some futuristic weapon that would change the world and singing sad country songs about missing dogs and forgiving wayward sons at the top of my lungs.

I miss bad jokes and word games to pass the time on those slow nights.  I miss being useful.  Being counted upon.  I miss the camaraderie when things just plain sucked.  I may even miss screaming my entire way home when customers were mean.  I miss the confidence, the independence and the accomplishment I felt with every task.  That knowing smile or a "Good Job!" stamp on my bonus.  I miss being recognized for my hard work.

I miss the parking lot after close, whether it was throwing empty bottles over the roof into the garbage can or sharing our deepest thoughts about the world.  I miss impromptu fashion shows with the Lost & Found drawer.

I miss giving people rides home and trying to fit bicycles into the trunk of my Ford Escort.  I miss the feeling of that shower after getting home, washing off the smell of grease or success or whatever it was.  I miss watching new kids try to scoop fries as the bag keeps sliding off the handle - smiling to myself that one day. . .oh, one day, they'll get it.  I miss doing inventory, ordering the produce, signing off on shipments, stacking the boxes of patties, making 3 lbs of bacon at 7am, filling the shake flavors, icing the salad bar, washing the windows, stocking the mini-fridge, and making bank runs with $2000 cash in my pocket.  Especially when I got to take someone along and we could act paranoid as if the guy behind us was after that money and we had to make it through all the green lights before he caught up to us.

I miss all of it.  Not because it was anything special but because it was mine.  It was my job.  And I was amazing at it.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Fear & Loathing Blogger.com


I have spent two days composing the picture blog for the Anderson Family Reunion.  I accidentally click the undo button and it wipes the entire entry clean?  What is that about?  Undo means undo EVERYTHING?  Not just the last thing I did?

And my mere human hands weren't fast enough to redo or undo the undo before it was autosaved.  What kind of demented programmer allows someone to autosave a BLANK entry????Q!?!?!!??!/kl421jkjklwrejnfekjl;sfelj

Anger doesn't begin to describe my hatred for you right now, blogger.  Does not.  Even.  Come.  CLOSE!

By the way, thanks for autosaving this every 2 friggin' seconds.  Wouldn't wanna lose these precious thoughts!

Monday, August 29, 2011

Employment Purgatory

When I was delightfully and obliviously acing my 4 year elementary education degree program, we were told that the average certified teacher right out of college will have to suffer through 8 interviews before landing a job.

I have had 5.  However, it never got brought to our immediate attention that interviews aren't the end-all be-all of the job train.  Or the only way in which one's self esteem and confidence can be built or dashed.  I have applied and NOT received interviews (what were they thinking!?) for 18 positions in the past year.


Except for a few bouts with disorganization and procrastination, elementary school was easy.  High school was even easier.  When college came around, and I got a taste of freedom, I learned nothing from my academic classes and everything from the life lessons associated with the consequences of slacking off.  When I began to make real goals, it was challenging. . .but easy.

Almost every job I've had before now has come to me without too much hard work or that go-getter attitude.  I have been lucky enough to have connections which, while they did not GET me the job, certainly helped in getting me noticed in the first place.  All I had to do was show up and be awesome.  Which I am.

And yet, I keep forgetting that.  If I have to hear, "-Insert glowing praise here- BUT we decided to go with another candidate because -insert insider knowledge reason here-" I am going to curl up into a ball and become a fossil so that, one day, millions of years from now, a happy-go-lucky scientist can happen upon me and I can finally be worth something to somebody.

Here is where those people in my life who truly love me pipe up, "Oh Beth, you are worth the world to us."  I know.  And that means the world to me.  It still doesn't get me a job.

This area is so weird.  There are teachers who I subbed for last year who were not invited back due to budget restraints.  Now, these people are out there looking for jobs, too!  I'm on the same playing field as them and they've got the advantage because they've had their own classroom.  Everywhere I go, I'm stuck in some kind of strange limbo between the experienced elementary school teachers and the pre-schools who claim they can't afford me because I'm overqualified.

Nobody wants me.  I'm too little or too much.  Good but not good enough.  Each "Sorry, but. . ." phone call gets harder and harder.  I am running out of steam.  I have my faith to keep reminding me that, if I continue to do my part, the way will be shown to me and I will receive the position I am supposed to have.  Something about this experience is supposed to be teaching me something.  And if there's anything I've learned about teaching throughout my career (or lack thereof) it's that learning is the greater portion.

I am learning quite emphatically that I have had it way too easy for way too long.

Ok.  Lesson learned.  Can I have a job now?

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

This Book Is Going Down!



And I shall be incommunicado for awhile.

Warning: Do not Google "Lost Camera"

Where, oh where, has my camera gone?

Adam and I actually had to sit down with the calendar a few days ago to figure out exactly when it was we last used the camera and when it was that we noticed it was missing.  As we stood in the kitchen, glaring at the last weeks of July, rolling our eyes and screwing up our mouths into the telltale face of total recall, we began to realize two things:

1.  We have terrible memories.
2.  We are really boring.

Thank goodness for timestamps.  The last time we remember having the camera outside of this house was when we took a quick adventure trip up to Point No Point Beach & Lighthouse.  With the posting of my blog entry three previous to this one, it's obvious that the camera made it back safely.

Our miniscule place is 844 square feet.  And yet, that 844 square feet seems to be very adept at swallowing up items, making them utterly impossible to find.  Although, this is the first time that neither Adam nor I have been able to discover where this blasted thing is!  Neither have we had an epiphany leading us to any idea of where it could have gone.

I have done everything except literally tear this place apart.  I'm thinking I might need to implement a CSI-type search.  Not sure what a black light or powdered sugar may bring to light but I'm pretty sure it won't be the camera.  I am completely at a loss.  And totally frustrated.  I mean, there are only so many places this thing COULD be!  I've begun wandering around like an idiot, just calling out to it; willing it to suddenly appear in the gazillion spots I've already checked at least 3 or 4 times.  I need to tape off sections and just go to town, moving and removing so there is no question.  If I find myself staring at a spot, thinking to myself, "It couldn't possibly be there,"  I must check it out!  Otherwise, it will eat at me all day that it could be there if only I had checked.  By then, it would be too late, however.  Seeing as the thing has definitely sprouted legs or wings or a slime trail or something.

I have this feeling that it's sitting out in the open somewhere and, because it's been missing so long, I'm completely overlooking it.  My brain is focused on the fact that it must be hidden.  I've begun worrying about the following possibilities:

  • One of us placed it on the shelf in the closet and it fell into the recyclables which have been tossed several times already.
  • It somehow got swept into the garbage.  Maybe my hands were full of both garbage and non-garbage because I was trying to multi-task and it all went terrible wrong.  Like that time I was eating a lollipop and writing on the chalkboard.
  • Someone took it.  Maybe sweeping it into their bag by mistake and it's sitting somewhere on someone's floor with the unintentional thief none the wiser.
  • One of us has blocked out the memory of taking the camera out of the house and it fell out of our vehicle or was left on the roof.
  • It is somewhere in the nether regions of the 4th dimension where all the left socks go and we will not see again unless we purchase a new camera and we've had it just one day past its return date.
  • We never had a camera.
  • The super plush shag rug has a deeper pile than I thought.
  • For some reason, it was in my big ol' totey Fossil bag and it fell out as I was struggling with a bunch of crap.  Sounds like me.
  • I am actually repelling technology now.
  • Adam or I cleaned up and put it in a spot that, at the time, we KNEW we'd forget but that we thought made enough sense to be rediscovered.  This is hardly ever the case.  Never change an item's home.
  • There is a secret extra room or closet somewhere in this apartment that I have never seen.  Room of Requirement?  Where are you when I need you?
The saddest part of this story hearkens back to another time when I was so dependent on media that my entire concept of reality became skewed.  It was around 9th or 10th grade and I had been playing way more video games than is normally healthy for someone under 40 who doesn't live in her mom's basement (it was the attic for me.)  The following occurred as I was walking home from school, purely by subconscious memory, lost in my own thoughts.  I don't remember what I was debating but I was trying to make an important real-life choice (important for a 15 year old, anyway) and get this. . .I genuinely thought to myself, "Well, Beth?  You could save now!  And if it doesn't work out, go back and try a different approach."  Sad, right?

A week ago, after searching and searching and searching to no avail, I began to feel like, for the first time, the internet had failed me.  Whenever I'm having trouble with anything, I can always "look it up!"  I was legitimately saddened and disappointed by the fact that I couldn't just google "lost camera" and have my problem solved.


You never quite notice how many photo ops there are until you have no way of recording them.  How will I chronicle the ever-anticipatory moment when my copy of Cold Vengeance by the brilliant horse-back rider Douglas Preston & lively banjo player Lincoln Child arrives?  At least I have my Team Pendergast chums to fall back on.  I can live through their photos.  What did we do back when cameras were just a novelty?  Or before there were any at all?  Perhaps I may need to invest in a stone and chisel.

Camera come back! 
You can blame it all on me.
I was wrong!
And I just can't live without you.

You know you miss these faces.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Mischief Managed

Roald Dahl once said that if you're going to write a villain, you may as well make them the most ruthless, poisonous and unchangeable of evils.  Your heroic characters, on the other hand, should be the very essence of goodness.  When I first read Harry Potter and the Philosopher's (Sorcerer's) Stone, it was reminiscent of a Roald Dahl story.  The British undertones, the sparkling wit, and the introduction to some one-dimensionally good and villainous characters.

Dahl's stories were short and simple; they involved good people, bad people and the rewards and punishments delivered respectively.  Because Dahl, at least in his children's books, wrote such short linear tales, character development was often amiss.  No one actually learned anything.  You were either good to begin with and rewarded for it.  Or evil to begin with and punished for it.  Chock it up to Dahl's unpleasant experiences growing up in a boarding school.

Throughout J.K. Rowling's tale of Harry Potter and pals, we are introduced to characters that begin as such but become something altogether very different and unique.  Over 7 novels and 8 films, what began as a seemingly black and white tale of good and evil blossomed into a magical allegory of ideas and concepts part of and intrinsic to, but not fully only, good and evil.  When you finish the series and reread the books, you notice things that were completely hidden before.  Hints and foreshadowing, shades of meaning, clever nuances that were very easy to miss the first time through.  These tidbits of ostensibly extraneous information or confusing subplot lines, the moments when you wondered, "What DOES this have to do with anything, Rowling!?" are always purposely and masterfully revealed at the right time.  Every allusion is intended, either as a catalyst, a wink, or, at the very least, humour.  Once you know Rowling has a penchant for Monty Python, certain things begin to fall into place.

It's easy to fall in love with the characters of the Potterverse.  Even the despicable ones whom you absolutely love to hate!  Because they are all so good at what they do.  Rowling is good at what she does.  She planned this world and this epic from the very beginning of it all.

The films, however, were not.  And that's not entirely production's fault.  While Rowling was conferred with, she did not have complete and final say.  Not to mention that we were already into Order of the Phoenix, the 5th movie, when the 7th and final book was released.  Nuances are tricky to come by when you don't exactly know the ending to the story.

Let me preface what I am about to speak of by saying that I fully understand the need for and the right of film adaptations to be different from the original books they are based on.  I completely get that a direct page to screen transfer would be impossibly boring and far too difficult; especially when the book in question is 759 pages.  I am one of those rare individuals who recognizes and respects a film adaptation as a separate entity from the book and can enjoy both and either in their own right.  Think of the book as supplemental material for the film's main idea.

Last night, I finally went to see the final installment of the Harry Potter film series, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2.  I enjoyed it.  I was pleasantly surprised by quite a few moments.  Disappointed with others.  This did not ruin my good time, just left me wanting.  Not because I'm some ridiculous fangirl who expects my imaginings to be made reality and definitely not because I have any quarrel with a director's need to rush a solid story to fit inside 2 hours and 10 minutes.  My goodness, it must be done!  If only, so that I don't need to squirm during rising action because I dared to drink a glass of water before arriving.

I will attempt to discuss my faults and fancies, as follows, with storyline and character development for The Deathly Hallows.  Not, I repeat NOT, with whether or not a specifically enjoyable canon scene or character was incorrectly manipulated or left out entirely.  Although I may include a small list of grievances.  Just for kicks.  I mean, this is the end, right?

Emendo:  The Thing They Got Right!

Snape - Never mention to me the horrifyingly anticlimactic Half-Blood Prince reveal in the 6th film.  Deplorable.  Utterly without emotion and just. . .no.  However, Deathly Hallows Part 2 redeemed our bat-like professor in more ways than one.  I especially enjoyed the Snape-shaped hole in the glass.  Thank you for that one, Rowling!

Snape has always been one of my favorite Potter characters.  I always knew, right from the start, that this man had a chip on his shoulder for sure. . .but he wasn't evil.  I didn't know why yet.  But I knew it had to be a terribly good reason.  It was either Snape is good. . .good in parentheses maybe. . .or that this was merely a cautionary subplot in which Dumbledore is displayed as a human being who could make mistakes.  However, I dismissed the latter because Dumbledore was not made out to be some naive, optimistic, ever-trusting fellow.  He heavily mistrusted Tom Riddle, even as a child.  So I knew that Dumbledore trusted Snape for a very real and considerable reason.

In the movie, Harry receives Snape's memories through his tears rather than through those odd wispy steam trails. . .so what?  Was that canon?  No.  Was the scene effective?  Absolutely!  I completely loved the added line of "You have your mother's eyes."  My heart just broke into a thousand pieces.  Way to take a line that has been uttered since the beginning and give it new meaning.  Excellent.

All this time, Alan Rickman's portrayal of Snape has been, in a way, comedic.  He's an imposing and nasty man but his careful demeanor and slow, deliberate speech was easy to imitate and mock.  Snape's memories are some of his best acting in these movies and actually serve to make his other scenes more believable.  Here is a man whom we get to see as real.  For a change.  We discover that, not only is Rickman playing the part of Snape but, Snape is acting the part of lording it over Harry and his friends as recompense for the way Harry's father treated him.  He is playing the role of authoritarian.  Finally, he has power that he can use to his advantage!

Within Snape's memories, the charade is broken.  We see him feeling.  Suffering.  Legitimately angry and with no holds barred.  It is beautiful to watch.  Most people, when they cry on film, scrunch up their face. . .try to squeeze some tears out.  Real pain makes it so that you can hardly breathe.  Rickman exemplified this so well.  We get to see true vulnerability.  Much of the time, we do not get to see this because Snape is constantly wearing a mask.  A mask of shame, regret and, especially important, of camouflage.  Really, behind the dark and blustery demeanor, Snape is a broken and hapless boy in wizard's clothing.

Of all of the storylines, I thought that this one would get swallowed up.  I am so glad that it wasn't.  Snape is not one-dimensional.  Not even 2-dimensional as we go back and forth, trying to decide:  Death Eater or Order?  He is not evil.  He is not good.  He is a man with, as Sirius Black would say, both light and dark inside of him.  And we find that love, the very power that Dumbledore is always going on about, is the one thing that convinced Snape to change his allegiance, ultimately resulting in aiding the downfall of Voldemort.

Oppugno:  Thing They Missed That They Shouldn't Have!

Dumbledore - If I had watched the last two movies without having read the books, I would be thoroughly confused about all this wand and horcrux crap.  I wouldn't have known who Gregorovitch was.  Or Grindelwald.  I wouldn't have any idea what the deal is with Albus and Aberforth?  Who is Ariana and how did she die?

What's worse is that they approach these subjects but never quite reach an explanation that's worth anybody's time.  We miss out on quite a bit of Dumbledore's back story.  Which I find to be incredibly important to the main storyline.  And I was doubly peeved because, from what was shared in Part 1, I thought we were going to get the rest of the story.

We never really do find out why Dumbledore didn't just tell Harry everything.  Especially considering we find out that he KNEW he was going to die!  There should be no excuse for his not using every moment he had left with Harry to prepare him.  Not prepare him to die, of course, as that would come as quite a shock and may have ruined his well-laid plans but at least prepare him for the journey preceding that moment!

King's Cross would have been a perfect time to quickly bring some of these unanswered questions to light.  How easy it would have been for Harry to simply ask, "Why, Professor?  Why didn't you tell me all this from the beginning?" so that Dumbledore could reply, "Harry, I was a fool.  More than once.  I allowed the prospect of power and the greater good to destroy my family.  I never wanted to see you make the same mistakes.  And all along, I should have known you were the better man.  I should have trusted you."

Easy as that!  It would have taken barely a minute or two.  No, we did not need the entire background of Dumbledore and his family - how his sister, Ariana, was caught doing magic by 3 young muggle boys who attacked her; how his father went after and killed these muggles and was sent to Azkaban; how Ariana never recovered and was kept hidden because of her instability and danger to others; how his mother was killed by Ariana in one of those unstable and dangerous accidents; how Ariana was accidentally killed in a confusing altercation between Albus, Aberforth and Grindelwald; how Grindelwald, the very dark wizard he defeated later in life had, until then, been Albus's best friend!

While that's all very interesting to read and would have been just as interesting to watch in a movie called Dumbledore and the Deathly Hallows, I understand the need to condense.  We learned that Dumbledore lived in Godric's Hollow.  We learned that he had a somewhat sordid past.  And we learned that he cared for Harry enough to keep him in the dark about various epiphanies.

What we additionally needed was to understand what that aforementioned sordid past was about.  That, at some time in Dumbledore's history, he was impulsive and power-hungry.  This is why he never took the position as Minister of Magic.  He knew he could not be trusted with that kind of power.  This is why he did not trust Harry with all of the truth.  He already knew the dangers posed by the desire and sacrifice for power and what that can do to a young and impressionable mind.  This is why he did not want Harry to have the resurrection stone until his last moments.  He already knew what Harry saw in the Mirror of Erised; he knew what harry would want to use it for under very different circumstances.

We needed to see that Dumbledore, as well as Snape, was not evil and was not good.  He had a part to play on both sides of that coin.  We would see how the power of love leads men just as the love of power does the same.

Nitpicks

Mirror Shard - Nowhere, in the movies, does Sirius give Harry that mirror (as he did in the books) and at no time is it ever explained why he has it.  When we discover that Aberforth got the other one from Mundungus, it feels merely like an afterthought.

No house elves - One of my favorite little quirks of Hermione's is her passion for equality and her fierce fight for the freedom of house elves, even as they deny her the opportunity to help them.  While I LOVED the Ron/Hermione kiss in the movie (comedic and romantic) it was quite wonderful in the book when Ron, in the midst of the battle of Hogwarts, piped up with, "Hang on a moment!  We've forgotten someone!  The house elves, they'll all be down in the kitchen, won't they?"  Ron's sudden switch from his usual obliviousness to awareness is brilliant.  I suppose they show this in the movie when Ron repeats something he remembered Hermione had said in the past and she is pleasantly surprised.

Wormtail (Peter Pettigrew) is not Killed

Though this omitted scene makes sense because it was never set up in a previous film, I still wish Pettigrew would have been defeated.  I've always wondered why, with his wormy and cowardly ways, he was a member of the Gryffindor house.  He must have, at some point, had the capacity to be brave and make a difficult but correct choice.  When he hesitates as he is confronted by Harry and friends in the Malfoy mansion dungeon, it costs him his life at his own hand.  Literally.  That hesitation is probably the first decent thing he's ever done and makes him finally deserving of his place in the Gryffindor alma mater.

Griphook and the Sword of Gryffindor


Warwick Davis was delightfully creepy and sinister as Griphook the Goblin.  That guy is truly a great actor!  My gripe is that he referred to the sword as the Sword of Gryffindor when, in reality (read:  the books) he would never have called it by a name that implies it belongs to anyone other than the makers of the steel:  The Goblins.  I suppose it wasn't necessary to go into detail about why Griphook wanted the sword.  It's obviously already regarded as a great and important historical treasure as well as being immeasurably powerful.  Fair enough.  Still. . .I would have liked to see a bit of Bill warning Harry about the goblin's understanding of value and property.

No Phineas Nigellus - When the trio are in Grimmauld Place, there is a portrait of the former Hogwarts headmaster which has a direct link to another portrait in the headmaster's office at the school.  Hermione takes this portrait with them when they depart from #12 and into the many forests and swamps and glades, whathaveyou where they make their temporary hideouts.  Phineas was a Slytherin headmaster and Hermione does not trust him.  She keeps him hidden in her bag with a blindfold over his eyes.

However, when they arrive in the Forest of Dean where Harry sees the doe patronus which he follows to the hidden sword of Gryffindor in the frozen lake. . .we wonder how that doe appeared and who cast it?  While we find out later that the doe patronus belongs to Snape. . .this still leaves a question unanswered.  How was Snape able to find them through all of their protective enchantments and why is the sword at the bottom of a dangerous frozen lake?  Never go swimming alone, Harry!  Don't they teach you anything at Hogwarts?

In the book, Phineas may have a blindfold on but he HEARS Hermione tell Harry where they are so that Phineas can then inform Snape.  Snape arrives, places the sword in the lake under what we find out later to be Dumbledore's instructions and calls Harry to it using his unfamiliar patronus.

Number 1 - There's no way Snape could have just appeared to Harry and given him the sword because Harry would not have hesitated to strike him down.  Harry has no reason to trust Snape.
Number 2 - The sword must be won in valor and must be deserved; not given or placed somewhere haphazardly.

My gripe is only that it was never explained in the movie how Snape found them.

Voldemort Trace - The reason why death eaters and snatchers keep showing up, even when the trio enact their protective enchantments, is because there is a spell that put a trace on Voldemort's name.  Anyone using the name instead of saying You-Know-Who instantly reveals their whereabouts.  In the movie, I'm not sure how they know.  It's never explained for the diner scene but, I assume, with the snatchers, it is because Hermione left her scarf tied around a tree in case Ron returned.  Not sure what this would do for Ron other than let him know that's where they WERE??  At any rate, the lead snatcher is seen wearing Hermione's scarf when they are all later caught.

Fred & Percy - One of the biggest subplots and a major theme of the book is Voldemort's ability to create fissures in families; to separate and manipulate and destroy.  Mainly because he does not take stock in relationships or love or any of that nonsense.  This is very evident in Percy's abandonment of the Weasley family for his position at the Ministry.  When Percy wises up and returns in the battle of Hogwarts, it is touching and, as always with the twins, humourous and loving.  Almost immediately, we lose Fred.  Instead of this climactic family reunion and subsequent loss, we get a sudden unexplained Percy appearance (if you were even paying attention) and a dead Fred on a stretcher.







Effective Non-Canon Additions

Luna & Neville - YAY!  That's all I can say.  *dee*

Harry Says Goodbye - Instead of hiding under the Invisibility Cloak, he faces Ron & Hermione before heading off to his death.  Something I think he should have done in the book.  I don't remember now if he couldn't find them (because they were still in the Chamber of Secrets looking for basalisk fangs) or if he opted out of having to defend his decision to them.  Although, they did omit the scene where he speaks to Neville about killing the snake

Drawing Out the Killing of Nagini - Even though I had to pee like the frikkin dickens at this point, I very much enjoyed that the trio tried to kill the snake several times with the ultimate conqueror coming out in the form of never-does-anything-right Neville Longbottom with the sword of Gryffindor.  All this happening while Harry fought Voldemort alone.  Loved it!  Very good back and forth action.

The Tale of the Three Brothers - This animated scene is in the first half of Deathly Hallows.  While the story is canon and is an awesome fairy tale (I do own a copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard) I just wanted to make mention of the brilliant idea to animate it and have it narrated by Hermione.  Just.  Plain.  Cool.

McGonagall - I was sad when my favorite Order of the Phoenix scene between Umbridge and McGonagall was condensed into a disappointing hallway quibble in which Minerva steps down.  So, I was super tickled  when she pronounced, after piertotum locomotor, that she had always wanted to try that spell.

Harry & Hermione Dance - This is in the first half of the Deathly Hallows movie.  Lots of people found this scene to be odd and strangely in favor of shipping the two.  However, I found it to be the very opposite.  It was a quick and simple way of showing that their relationship was one of deep, platonic love.  The scene was highly unromantic.  It was a friend attempting to do the best he could to cheer up another friend within unusual circumstances.  And, if anyone noticed, Hermione stopped smiling as soon as it was over and walked away, just as unhappy as she was before.


Harry Snapping the Elder Wand - "You wonderful boy.  You brave, brave man."

While I did not appreciate the lady to my upper right who, after the scene went to black before the 19 years later scene, loudly proclaimed that it should have just ended there (this is not your living room) I very much enjoyed myself and I'm happy to report that I cheered and teared up at all the right parts.  Here's to waiting for the thousand dollar wizard's chest 16 DVD collection of extras and extended scenes.

Nox