Someone asked me if I liked being a photographer and I couldn’t help smiling. I wanted to say, “Really, I’m not. But thank you.” But we were interrupted. It made me happy that they were genuine. It’s hard to find people like that today. The last few days I’ve been running around snapping pictures of the little things in my house. Don’t worry, I won’t bore you with them, but I suddenly realized that I didn’t really have any pictures of my very first apartment. I have pictures of Tyler, Mallory, Warren, Tom, Jei, and I in the apartment, but not really pictures of bathroom decorations, the stove, Jei and I’s first set of dishes, etc.

A little while ago I bought my very first bathroom set, as the last one was a hand me down from my mother, and some of the pieces were broken. I’m very happy about it, but this time, I want to remember everything. All the little things. What about the infamous Nature’s Seasoning?!

I want to take pictures of the things i was doing, the paintings, the projects. I just want to be able to look back in a few years and laugh at the things I liked. The ways I wore my hair. I mean, I’ve been photo documenting forever, but I want to take pictures of my desk. Pictures of my favorite nail polish. Those little things that make your life your life. And even though it’s kind of lame, I quote myself from back in January:

“Perhaps it’s frivolous; painting, photographs, writing it all down. But what if I wake tomorrow only to have forgotten everything?”

I was twelve years old when, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (renamed Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone for the US) was published. I remember still having, or was it already having?, my Christmas lights hanging around my room like a night light. I remember curling under my comforter unable to put this book down. Reading by those colorful Christmas lights. I loved it. It was enchanting. I wanted to be a witch and go away to school and get out of my house and my situation. I’d just left behind my best friend and hadn’t met any new ones at school yet. I still have that comforter. I’m brought this memory because I’m sitting here knitting another scarf, listening to Stephen Fry narrate Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, so that I can refresh my memory of the books before I read the final one.

I’d never really been a huge fan of Harry Potter books once I got older, but sitting here listening to the first book- I remember why I liked it so much. And I remember staying up all night on a school night to read this book. And I remember hiding it quickly when my mom opened the door.

She said, “Goodnight, my lovelies. And Sara, I know you’re reading.”

She then closed the door.

I didn’t know if that meant put the book down and go to bed or if that meant I didn’t have to hide it from her because she was my mother. I remember telling my sister afterwards when we were talking about it, “Seven years at Hogwarts?! Seven books! That will take too long. I hope I’m not too old when the last one comes out.”

Listening to the first book has brought all this back to me. I read a lot of the books, but I’d certainly lost that spark. For those of you that kept it, today is a very special day for you. The seventh and final book is to be released in six and a half hours.
On another note, I finished Snookie’s second scarf (as he’s leaving soon) and I’m working on another.

Cheers.

I can’t wait to see this movie.

First of all, thank you kindly for all the supportive comments about my previous employment, they really have given me an extra boost of confidence and happiness. For everyone who rang me and didn’t get me- I’m sorry! I’ve been super busy, but I am still returning the calls on the list, haha. Today I went to Patisserie Amie for the second time ever, and it was just as good as last time. The hot chocolate is to die for. Watched a few movies. HAHA. Also watched a few wannabe movies. My sister comes home in two weeks. Here are some tunes for you. That is all. Later, cats.