Today after school I came home and took a large step into popular culture-- after much persuasion by trusted friends and fellow bibliophiles, I read the first Harry Potter book. It was actually pretty good. As I was telling Caleb earlier, I don't suppose anyone's diet ought to consist solely of steak and potatoes and broccoli. Sometimes a slice of watermelon or a Rita's ice is in order. This was accomplished quite handily.
Bonus: read it while listening to the Sherlock Holmes soundtrack. EPIC.
So that was good and worth 3 hours of my Friday afternoon. I felt rested.
Then I had the stupid idea to watch a movie with my mom. And not just any movie, but a movie that would make my heart rate go up and my hands sweat more than they ought-- that is, The Boy in the Striped Pajamas. I guess you could chalk said symptoms up to the Mountain Dew I was drinking (caffeine and I don't get along well), but I think it's not improbable that they were because that is simultaneously one of the best and worst movies I have ever seen.
And yes, I did cry. a little.
And yes, I did wimp out and turn off the movie before the end and look up the plot summary on Wikipedia.
I am not that brave.
I am also feeling most definitely less-relaxed than after my first media experience this afternoon.
But I think it's supposed to do that.
Kathryne
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