Let's go back

Let’s go back to the beginning
To before you said, “I love you.”
To before I said, “I don’t care.”
Let’s go back to the beginning.
Please won’t you meet me there?

Let’s go back to the railroad tracks,
To where we would lay our heads,
To when we just needed to talk.
Let’s go back to the railroad tracks.
Do you think it’s too far to walk?

Let's go back to those happy times,
To when we'd jump at the slightest noise
In case a train was right around the corner.
Let's go back to those happy times,
To when the air seemed warmer.

Let’s go back to those conversations,
To the ones that were so personal,
To the ones that were simply not.
Let’s go back to those conversations.
We both liked that place a lot.

Let’s go back to those words you said.
To “I love you.” What does that even mean?
To the moon and back? Forever after?
Let’s go back to those words you said,
Because I want to change my answer.

Little Brielle

Little Brielle set off with her shovel and pail,
At the shore of the vastest, bluest sea.
The clouds of the sky seemed to merge with ships' sails,
And when the tide crept at her toes, Brielle would flee.

Little Brielle set up camp far from the tide's reach,
And dug her plastic shovel into the soft, golden beach.
She said "I'll build a sandcastle fit for the finest queen.
It will be the biggest, grandest castle you've ever seen!"

Little Brielle dug dug dug, up to her elbows in sand.
Her eyebrows gravitated towards each other while she worked,
And she looked so charmingly serious, shovel in hand,
And when the sand did not go her way she sweetly seemed irked.

When suddenly, through the sand she'd shifted away,
Little Brielle could see stars though it was day.
She looked in the hole that was like a tide pool,
But did not find shells, sea urchins, or a fish school.

Little Brielle saw in the hole that she had made,
What looked like the vast depths of outer space.
There was a nebula cloud with colors of every shade,
With swirling tendrils of dust that seemed fine as lace.

Little Brielle wondered, "What if it sucks me in?
Then I'd have to start my castle all over again!"
So she pushed sand over the puddle of space, hid it away,
Turned her back to the spot and continued with her play.

Pending inventions that will make the world a much better place

Seems like a lot of the technology actually makes our lives harder. I have to keep up with over three different email accounts to stay informed, keep track of ipods, cellphones, laptops, etc., and I can't really say that these things actually make my life easier... They can entertain me sure, but they aren't exactly life changing tools.
So I'm going to invent some actually useful technology, things that will change people's lives.

1. A Perspectimodifyer:
A device that changes the color of a calculated vicinity by turning a dial. So with the turn of a dial the area could go from looking colorful and vibrant to a scene resembling an old photograph. This device also aids in decision making when you simply wish to see things in black and white. Also, the principle reverses so that gray, dreary days and your mood can be transformed with more cheery colors.

2. A Happy Inhaler:
This device is like an asthma inhaler and has a similar purpose. When your throat closes up in panic or sadness just take a reassuring puff from the inhaler. The chemicals react with the memory part of the brain as well as the pleasure centers so that you are not happy for no reason, but a special memory is recalled giving the Happy Inhaler a longer lasting effect. The chemicals are non-toxic but should be used in moderation not exceeding 5 puffs. It is not intended to replace your therapist or other healthy coping abilities.

3. A Mood Ring...
... that actually works. The world would be a much more conscientious place if you wore your heart on your sleeve, or your finger. However, if you wanted to hide your feelings then you simply took the ring off. Though having a unimposing "Do Not Disturb" sign on your hand could have its purposes. An add on would be the Proper Theme Music Diamond insert. This gem contains a tiny micro chip that can store up to 100 songs and transmits waves to a nearby radio to play the music. When the chip senses a significant mood the music will play.

4. A Unicorn:
This cross breeding marvel will greatly aid the police forces in major cities. A police officer would look far more imposing atop a unicorn, with it's sharp, yet magical horn glinting in the sun. However, special guards would need to be fitted around the horn to prevent the possibility of a civilian being impaled.

Also, unicorn bone marrow, though not human, has special properties benefitting leukemia patients due to the high white blood cell count. The unicorn's horn is actually a byproduct of their insanely high white blood cell count. You see "horn" is somewhat of a silly term because the protrusion is actually a bone.

It will be a lot of work creating these marvelous inventions, but it will be worth it to make the world a better place. Should my efforts fail, I wish for someone else to carry out my dream.

Hogwarts, A History

Off the top of my head I can tell you that there are 142 staircases in Hogwarts, one of which has a step that will trap your foot like quicksand.
But if you asked me to name the United States' 34th president I'd have to spend a few minutes singing a song I learned in the fifth grade to have a prayer of getting it right.

I can tell you which secret passageways lead where and which ones are blocked, but I don't remember when exactly the French and Indian War started.

I could go on for hours about Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, but all I know about British General Cornwallis' involvement in the American Revolution was that he was defeated at Yorktown... and I did a paper on him once.

Honestly, I don't even know what the OU library hours are, but I could tell you that the Hogwarts library is located on the fourth floor and closes at 8 p.m. every night.

Strangely, I don't find all this information useless.
I never saw history happen. I never saw the past form into the present.
History is like a story, I just find Professor Binns' take on it a bit more interesting.

We've been told our histories over and over since we were kids. Now it just seems like a story, a story that everyone believes without question.

There are a lot of errors throughout history, and a lot of information that has been covered up.

History is all up to the people who write it.
So who's to say that the Goblin Rebellion of 1612 was of no importance?
I'd say it was the beginning of a long time war against the discrimination of goblins and should be taught in schools. Goblins are important too and deserve representation in Wizengamot. I am happy to say that my family was in no way involved in goblin discrimination. Was yours?

Mom's present

What if every tear you ever cried was stored in little vials.
I’d sit and sort through them all even if it took a while,
Just to find the tears you cried the day that I was born.

What if every time you sighed I caught it in a jar,
And used the little puff of air to blow your worries far,
Leaving your heart feeling feather-light, calm, and warm.

What if every time your shoulders ached an angel got its wings.
Then those angels could protect all of your precious darlings,
And praise God in too many magnificent ways to count.

What if when you said “I love you” the sun came out from behind a cloud.
Because warmth is what I always feel when you say those words out loud,
And I never get tired of hearing them no matter how the number mounts.

What if every time you laughed a new star formed in the sky,
Shining and twinkling like the playful sparkle in your eye.
That way the night would no longer seem so dark.

What if when I made you proud the ocean would raise its tide,
As if to show your warm emotions welling up inside.
Just know that you are the inspiration for every adventure I embark.

What did we lose when we gained comfort and control?

"I'm so glad we're doing this." she said swinging her leg over the cold metal fence, "I needed a little adventure, besides, doing something that's kind of illegal just makes things more fun."

"Kind of illegal? kind of illegal?," his voice rose incredulously. "Try just plain illegal." She laughed in the dark.

"Only if you get caught."

"How would we explain this to a police officer?" he shone the flashlight on her. "He just found two college kids out in field. I don't think he'd be very understanding."

"It's not like we're stealing or damaging anything. We just want to go somewhere where we could see the stars."

"Yeah, I'm sure he'd buy that."

They trudged through the field. The grass was dried by winter and smelled as though it had been freshly cut. The moon above was so bright it was like the bulb of a lighthouse, beckoning the wanderers forward into a strange place of nothingness. There was no one else, only they and the moon.

"It's so peaceful," he said as they lay back on a slightly sloping hill. The night sky closed over them like a blue bowl trapping them there in that moment, in that separate world. Constellations were visible, but the moon's brightness made them seem small and insignificant. Their hands reached up, tracing pictures in the stars and outlining the man's face in the moon.

"He's kind of ugly," she said wrinkling her nose.

"Do his eyebrows kind of go in? I see him too!" They rolled on the ground laughing at the scowling man in the sky. He looked down on them haughty and disapproving.

"It's funny, I never really took the time to look for him before."

Thoughts seemed numb in their minds, and the silence enveloped them like a cold, yet still comforting, blanket. It felt strangely like being underwater. The pressure of the quiet, the chilled breeze that was like a current, and the blue moonlight made the illusion all the more believable. Perhaps the moon was a round jellyfish and they were drowning in the universe's magnitude.
They were flecks of dust in a desert, bubbles in the ocean, fireflies compared to stars.

"It's almost like..."

"An out of body experience." She had the habit of finishing sentences for him. "Like we're watching someone in a movie. Characters do things like this, see things like this. Normal people like us just don't."

"Yeah, exactly," he breathed to the blinking stars.

It was strange how simplicity had become magical, and how all that was ancient seemed strangely new and undiscovered.

What if...

What if when you wished on a star your wish really came true?
What if dramatic music played at your first "I love you?"
What if girls had little locks and boys had tiny keys,
Then there probably wouldn't be as many romantic crises.
What if all the dinosaurs had never gone extinct,
Then we could ride on their backs to work, or so I'd like to think.

What if leopards could trade their spots like stickers?
What if double chocolate fudge could be made even thicker?
What if the imagination didn't have trivial boundaries,
Then you and I could become rulers of whatever we pleased.
What if little children never learned how to read,
Then that would lead to a terrible world indeed.

What if man had never really landed on the moon?
What if the whole event was filmed in a studio room?
What if the Titanic didn't fall apart and sink,
Then Leonardo DiCaprio wouldn't get so much as a wink.
What if all need for war suddenly went away?
I don't think it could happen suddenly, but maybe gradually someday.

The boy who wanted books for Christmas

Ted, his parents thought, was very serious for so young an age
Instead of playing with toys, his face was glued to a book’s page.
His father bought him basketballs his mother got him tools,
But it seemed that little Ted didn’t know the "little boy rules."
"Little boys should go to the streams and catch frogs all day,"
Ted's father, a large builder man, would always persist to say.
"Little boys should play with dogs," Ted's mother said to her son,
"If you promise to take care of it, we could probably get you one."

So when Christmas came around Ted's parents were eager to see
What requests Ted would write in a letter to Santa would be.
So they gave him some paper and a pen and told him then to begin.

“Dear Santa, all I was this year is lots and lots of books”
From behind his back the parents exchanged confused looks.
“Don’t you want a bicycle or a model toy gun?”
“Why would I want those things? They don’t sound very fun.”
“How about a fire engine or a choo choo train set on tracks?”
“I want books!” said little Ted, “not those silly wisecracks.
You asked me what I wanted and this is what I’ve said,
Now if you don’t mind I’m going to go on off to bed.”

And when it dawned bright and snowy on cheerful Christmas day,
Ted's parents waited anxiously to see with which toys Ted would play.
He unwrapped trains and toy cars but shoved them all aside,
It was not till he unwrapped a book that his eyes truly grew wide.

His nose in the book, and without a word he went off to his room,
Once the door was shut his parents whispered with an air of gloom.
"All the lovely toys we bought him, he didn't give them a second look.
Why did his eyes light up only when he unwrapped the book?"
They left Ted to his reading, though they worried through the day,
And looked outside a little wistfully at the neighborhood boys at play.
"Why won't he romp and jump and play sword fights just like them?
Why is it that all he does is read his books for hours on end?"

So that afternoon, both parents went to his door to knock,
But what was on the other side left them with quite a shock.
Instead of Ted's blue-walled room they found a vast, green forest,
Where endless cedars stretched to the sky and bright birds chorused.
They looked around wondering if it were safe to cross the threshold.
Where the carpet ended and grass began the parents' worry grew tenfold.

"Ted! Ted!" their combined voices carried into deep, thick wood,
Then the ground began to rumble not far from where they stood.
As the thunder grew louder, the couple dared not draw near to inspect
And the husband's arms circled his wife driven by the instinct to protect.
Then from behind the trees a troop of riders, dressed finely in red,
Burst from the forest's depths following their leader little Ted.

"Ho!" he called rearing his horse, the crown on his head nearly fell.
"I'm glad you're here," Ted said, "now you know about this place as well."
The parents were stricken dumb at the sight of him on the steed.
But Ted's father would have lied if he said he was not pleased.
"Wha- Wha- What is this place?" Ted's mother stuttered still confused.
"This world is like nothing I've ever seen," the father said bemused.
"This is where the books take me," said Ted atop his shining horse.
"But I always finish my adventures in time for dinner, of course.
I'm sorry I did not tell you about this place. I wanted you to understand,
I really really did. I thought you wouldn't believe me about this dreamland,
And so I ran and hid."
"Well we believe you." said Ted's father looking through the boughs to the sky.
"We'll give you all the books you need for your imagination to supply."

Now Ted no longer shuts himself up behind his bedroom door,
Father, son, and mother read books on the living room floor,
Sharing in adventures, and traveling to places far and unknown,
But most importantly, Ted never had to travel these roads alone.

Why a Remembrall is at the top of Voldemort's Christmas list

Greatest Dark Wizard of all time? I don't think so.
Anyone else notice how forgetful Voldemort is?

Seriously, Death Eaters, get your boss a Remebrall. It would save you the pain and frustration of dealing with his excessively violent mood swings.

If He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had a Remembrall he could have been like, "A phoenix! My Remembrall is glowing red... oh right! Phoenixes have healing powers! Probably shouldn't let it get too close to that Basilisk's wound in Potter's arm."

But no. He forgot.
Down goes the first Horcrux.

Furthermore, if Lucius Malfoy was such a hot shot in the Ministry, why didn't he just get the Dark Lord a Time-Turner? He probably could have pulled some strings or Imperiused the right people.

I'm guessing Voldemort forgot that possibility too.

Not to mention his extreme ignorance regarding the Deathly Hallows. He only cared about the Elder Wand, which turned out to be terribly short-sighted. He had been searching for immortality for such a long time and then only settled for the Death Stick when he could have been the Master of Death.

Tsk tsk.

Overall, none of this would have happened if only he had remembered in the VERY beginning the most ancient and powerful magic of all.

Love.

Love was what protected Harry Potter and made the Killing Curse rebound back on Voldemort, draining him of his power and forcing him into hiding for 10 years.

But he forgot that itty-bitty piece of information.

It seems like the Dark Lord could use a little help. So I've made out Voldemort's Christmas List in case any Death Eaters out there can't think of anything better than Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

Gift Ideas for Voldemort:

1. A soul.
Hey, his is kinda stretched at the moment.

2. A Remembrall.
His forgetfulness keeps foiling his plans!

3. A nose.
Maybe he wouldn't be so scary and could make some friends.


Just make sure it's a tasteful selection.

4. A manicure of 20 sickle value at Bambi Bovary's Beauty Boutique.
This salon was suggested by Reeta Skeeter.

5. A puppy!
That snake is kinda creepy.

Just don't say
To Tom: From your loyal servant.
Voldemort is not on a first name basis with anybody.

Happy Holiday shopping Death Eaters!

Final's Week, and How It Messes With People's Heads

So I was studying for finals, then quick as a wink,
I was suddenly nowhere with no time to think.
All around me was a misty, blank white,
And no other creature was in plain sight.
Then from blank, a word appeared,
And for some reason I did not find this weird.
The word seeped up from beneath my feet
In a font that was black, cold and distinct
"Finals."it said, with a period like a spot
I drew much closer than I probably ought
This spot, turns out, was a vast, deep hole
And as I drew nearer it swallowed me whole.

I knew not which way was down or which was up
It was as though equilibrium was decidedly stuck.
I figured I was falling, that was obvious enough
But didn't know why I was bumping into stuff.
I soon found out it wasn't just me in the dark
Because soon enough there was a little spark
A firework whizzed, inside the deep hollow
Revealing so many gadgets they were hard to follow
Metal, claw-like hands wrote pages of notes
And papers were delivered by little steamboats
Glasses had x-ray lenses and books had big teeth
So many peculiarities were beyond belief!

I had been falling for a while it seemed
And then from below me a dim light gleamed
A dark wood floor came into view
But I was falling so quickly I didn't know what to do!
Just when I thought I would hit the floor with a splat,
I was already standing, simple as that.
Looking around, the room was quite bare,
Except a purple backback on a corner chair.
I opened it up and felt my palor change hue
There was another whole world inside of it too!

A man was in there wearing a blueberry coat.
He was pouring grape jelly into a large moat.
"Hello!" he said "Won't you help me out?
You aren't useful, just standing about!"
I reached in my hand and took the large jar
He wiped his sweaty face and lit a cigar.
Halfway in this one world and halfway out
I didn't have much choice but to help him out
I poured out the jelly jar into the moat,
And with the work done the man began to gloat.

"I've been working on that for quite a long while,
But when my Queen sees she'll surely smile.
She'll say, 'Why Scuttledud, you clever beast!'
And plant a wet kiss right here on my cheek.
You there girl, are you rolling your eyes?
How dare you look down on me up from the skies!"

"Sir," I replied, "I did not mean to offend,
But the world is a bit larger here on my end."

"Well come into my world," said the blueberry man,
"And I'll make you a Queen as soon as I can."

A scepter seemed better than a purple backpack
So I shoved my feet in and never looked back.

The air in this new place tasted quite sweet,
and everything in it looked good enough to eat.
It must have been morning for all was covered in dew,
Little gumdrops some red and some blue.
The sun itself was like a glass of lemonade
And cotton candy clouds were colored every shade.

The blueberry man, stuck out a purple sticky hand
and dragged me away, across the candy meadowland
"I've got one, I've got one, a daughter of Eve,
And she was simple and quite easy to deceive!"
It seemed as though we flew for all was a blur
And before I knew it I was in front of her.

She was large and meaty her hair a hot pink.
She looked like a pig, I shuddered to think.
"You!" she boomed, and I was quite scared
Her face turned a bright puce and I just stared.
"You, dear girl, are a daughter of Eve?"
At this point I desperately wanted to leave.
"Yes," I said with a voice rather faint.
"There is someone, then, you should acquaint."

She took me then, down a spiraling staircase
Never had I been in so confusing a place.
The guards bowed their heads as we passed by
Each had armor made of crumbly cranberry pie
The Queen didn't give me a second glance,
And I thought that maybe here is my chance.
But just as I was about to bolt down the hall,
She led me to a shed that was wooden and small,
Shabby and gray in this colorful world.
She open the door and inside a person unfurled.
He was laying in the corner, arms around knees.
The Queen stood back afraid she'd catch fleas.
"Such a pretty collection. Now I've got two;
Trespassing monsters first him and now you."
She threw me in with surprising force.
And I spat in her face with little remorse.

We had to escape I had a test to take,
Out of this strange prison we had to break.
He and I hatched a challenging, desperate plan
We'd break down the walls and run as fast as we can
To the topmost tower where hopefully
The inside of the backpack we'd be able to see.

So we tore down the doors and broke into a run,
But the pie armored guards were quick to come.
We fought them off valiantly, this stranger and I,
And we made it to the tower, to the tip of the sky.
"I can't see anything!" I said with dread
But then another thought popped in my head.
"What if we jumped?" I said looking down.
My companion's mouth slid into a frown.
"Well I can't think of any other way,
I suppose all we can do now is just pray."
We linked arms and jumped off the tower
The wind in our ears growing louder and louder.
My stomach grew queasy as we started to fall,
And I awoke with a start in the Great Reading Hall.

I looked all around me at the students reading books,
And wondered if any were giving me weird looks.
My notes, I had noticed, were stuck to my face,
And I wondered what happened to the bright candy place.
When looking around and eye caught mine,
Apparently he had woken up at the same time.
My fellow prisoner sat a few tables away,
And had awoken at the same time, in same way.
He gave me a smile and I smiled back,
And tried to get my studies back on track.

When I was a kid Queen Susan and Prince Caspian didn't kiss... And 10 other things I'll tell my kids one day

My dad told me that he walked a couple of miles to school every morning even in the snow, that he lived on a farm and went to work (real work not part-time job work) and supported himself at nineteen. That got me thinking, how are things going to change by the time I have kids and what stories will I tell them?
11 things I can't wait to tell my kid about

1) Some day my kid will home to tell me excitedly about what he learned that day in science class. I will wait patiently for the day when he tells me, "There are 8 planets in our galaxy!" Then I'll drop this bomb.
When I was a kid, there were 9 planets in our galaxy.
His eyes would probably grow wide with mingled awe and acute confusion. Since he is my child, his mind would probably automatically jump to a missel testing experiment going horribly awry. Oh I can't wait for that, I hope I have a camera nearby.


2) There were these things called cassette tapes, and you had to rewind them. He would probably think I was a dinosaur.


3) I watched 2 dimensional cartoons, and they were way better.


4) When I was a kid there was this awesome thing called capitalism where your individual rights were actually recognized.


5) Wishbone was on TV


6) Books actually had pages.


7) I'll show him the scar I got from a slip 'n' slide


8) On Saturdays it was worth getting up early for the cartoons


9) The-Floor-Is-Lava game was better than any XBox


10) Light up sneakers were cool

11) Queen Susan and Prince Caspian didn't kiss, seriously Hollywood?

Never Happened.

Harry Potter should have sued for libel

I was reading my Writing for Mass Communication book in the chapter about Media Ethics and realized that Harry Potter had every right to sue the The Daily Prophet.



Laws punishing libel and slander are implemented in several Commonwealth nations not only in the United States. In Great Britain it is known as the English Defamation Law. Modern law states that "A is liable for saying anything to C about B which would be apt to make the average citizen think worse of the latter."
So just plug in The Daily Prophet for A, the wizarding public for C, and Harry Potter for B and you've got yourself a lawsuit.

However, Harry Potter must have proof of the written defamation. Well that's not too hard, The Daily Prophet only called him an attention seeking lunatic every other day.


Next, Potter needs to prove actual malice or negligence on the part of The Daily Prophet. Well the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, kept The Daily Prophet under his thumb not allowing Potter to defend himself or really give his side of the story. Also, one of the leading reporters for The Daily Prophet, Reeta Skeeter, was an unregistered Animagus. The Daily Prophett is responsible for her reckless negligence.

Now, assuming that Potter's argument hold up in Wizengamot, The Daily Prophet would be required to pay damages. They would have to issue a formal retraction and apology, and due to the repeated occurrences of defamation they would likely be required to pay in wizard gold as a part of compensation. Of course, Potter was left with enough money to buy out NASA when his parents died (AVPM) so the money would not be as important to him as the clearing of his name and alerting the wizarding world of the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. However, it would benefit The Ministry to give some sort of donation to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry or give a reward to Potter to show good standing. The Ministry is also tangled in this lawsuit because of Fudge's intimidation of The Daily Prophet, not to mention the time when Delores Umbridge, a Ministry worker, inflicted physical harm to Potter for telling his story.

She could probably go to Azkaban for that!!! It would serve the toad right!

If my test asks to give an example of a libel lawsuit I'm using this situation. Do you think I could get bonus points for awesome?

Why can't schools offer Transfiguration?

Finals week.

The time of year when mental breakdowns happen left and right. I'm pretty sure that I've overheard a dozen hysterical phone calls where students are telling their friends or family that they are just not cut out for college.

Personally, I just think I'm not taking the right courses. I would probably ace Transfiguration, and Care of Magical Creatures would certainly boost my GPA. I mean, OU offers a Star Wars course. Why not Hogwarts, A History?

I would much rather be conjuring a Patronus than memorizing ancient Mesopotamian kings. Besides, it is way more likely that I will run into a Dementor than use that useless bit of information.



I would happily suggest a few classes to the administration
Here is the lesson plan:
Defense Against the Dark Arts - Chapter 20

Conjuring a Patronus:

Step 1) Stay Calm and take your wand in your hand

Step 2) Think of a happy thought. Any happy little thought.

Step 3) Say the words EXPECTO PATRONUM (eks-PEK-toh pə-TROH-nəm) clearly and with the proper emphasis.
A silver mist should dissipate from your wand. With practice, this mist should take form of an animal such as a rabbit, stag, or hedgehog.

That is so much more appealing than my syllabi.
Writing for Mass Media
This semester the goal of this course is to:
1) Make you wonder if you will ever be happy again
2) Make your life a bazzillion times harder than it already is
3) Require you to question your sanity every bloody day

After Writing for Mass Media class I can't stand the format of the Daily Prophet. It's not AP style!
And don't even get me started on Reeta Skeeter. She doesn't use the inverted pyramid.

Porn for Bibliofiles

Now get your mind out of the gutter. The only flesh seen in this post comes from a cow, who very graciously gave up his hide for a book binding.
Bibliofiles are not creeps as your mind might have assumed. They are book lovers or can even go so far as being called book connoisseurs who collect rare, signed, or interesting books. Bibliofiles get excited by gold embossed leather binding and believe that there should be a perfume capturing that musty library smell.
Should you spot a bibliofile in their natural habitat of the upper level of an old library, talk to them! They know things! I once talked to a man who showed me an early copy of a Gutenburg Bible and a few other valuable texts. However, never say that you have never heard of Byron, Hugo, or Chaucer. Bibliofiles are provoked by ignorance.

Libraries have a mysterious allure about them. So many thoughts, words, and lives rest in such a quiet place, yet once you open a book, people, places, and stories reverberate inside your mind. Libraries all over the world have devoted their architecture to beauty hoping to match the transcendent thoughts inside the shelves.


Biblioteca Geral University of Coimbra, Coimbra, Portugal


Library of the Benedictine Monastery of Admont, Austria


Abbey Library St. Gallen, Switzerland

Any bibliofile would be drooling right now.

I think that we take books for granted. Ever tried to write a book? a good one? Not easy. It's like trying to create a functioning body out of clay.


Reading, in my opinion, is the most intimate form of communication. It's someone's mind on a page. So as I'm reading a book in the library, carefully turning the pages yellowed and brittle like fall leaves, someone from centuries ago is communicating with me. It puts your own accomplishments into perspective. In a hundred years, will anyone hear my voice? Will my thoughts ever echo in someone else's mind?



Words from centuries ago can still make your throat burn when Edmond Dantes is betrayed or make your heart flip-flop in your chest when Elizabeth agrees to marry Darcy. Surely you can see the power in that, the power of influence.
Bibliophiles appreciate this and want to get as close to the author as possible by collecting signed or original work. A signature kind of gives the work more of an identity than just another printed copy. It's like finding little hairs of an artist's brush trapped in the paint of a masterpiece.

Why my school is like Hogwarts

I am convinced that the University of Oklahoma is the best school that ever was. I'm also fairly certain that it is the American branch of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Observe...

The Great Reading Room in the OU Library


The Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry


It's any nerd's dream to come here.

Telephone Booths all over campus


Visitor's Entrance to the Ministry of Magic


And then there's just the general architecture


Good thing you aren't accepted into college at age 11, though I admit I was a little disappointed when my acceptance letter did not come by owl.


OU has a Quidditch Team as part of the organization Hogwarts on Campus, a newly formed club. It's only the most wonderful thing that has ever existed. The first meeting nearly a hundred people showed up and were all sorted into the appropriate Houses.


Did I mention we have gargoyles?

Take that Texas.

Real Men Don't Sparkle

The popularity of Stephanie Meyer’s “Twilight” saga has exploded all over the world. Fans of the books/movies are so passionate about the relationship between Meyer’s characters, Bella and Edward, that they are projecting their “Twilight” obsessions in their own relationships.



Husbands feel second best to the vampire, Edward Cullen. Ladies, who says chivalry is dead? Husbands are fighting vampires for their wives.

Blogger, colebenjamin, posts a few details of his marriage with his wife after she read "Twilight." She developed a fixation with glass, he said.

“ I realized A) she wasn’t ‘accidentally’ pricking her fingers on the pieces [of broken glass], B) watching your wife lick her own blood off her fingers is not at all sexy.” (colebenjamin, 2010).

She's not the only one spilling blood. Teens have taken to a new "biting trend."

"It's a way to belong to somebody and check their territory," high school sophomore Pao Hernandez (Hartenstein, 2010. NYDaily News).

Yeah, it's like the "new hickey."
However, the possessiveness of the act troubles parents. There are also worries of some serious skin infections.

“But we have to remember, any time there's a break in the skin, especially when you're talking about the human mouth, it's loaded with bacteria...You can set up for potentially some serious skin infections," said CBS Medical Correspondent Dr. Jennifer Ashton (Hartenstein, 2010).

All this biting seems a bit crazy. People do realize that vampires are dead right? I don't see what is sexy about necrophilia.

I'm advocating for all the husbands out there, the real guys who don't have to be perfect. Perfect would get annoying. You have to admit that. Edward is fiction, hate to break it to you but that's reality.

Real men don't sparkle!