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Jun. 8th, 2004 08:11 pmHere I am. Minding my own business. Listening to some pop song. By Maroon 5. A new, fun pop song. When suddenly it happens.
Severus Snape is dancing to the song in my head.
Yes. That Severus Snape. And he's dancing as I can only imagine Alan Rickman could if he had taken lessons from Andre 3000. It was quite disturbing, but funny. And that's when it hit me. This HP obsession has gone too far. When imaginary characters are doing crazy moves in my head it's time to surrender to the men in the white coats. At this point the HP universe has taken up an entire corner of my brain.
When I went to see PoA with my sister, who has only read the first book and seen the first two movies, she asked a simple question at the end of the movie, and I realized after the five minutes had passed that I was still explaining the answer in way too much detail. I have now reason to believe that the corner in which the HP universe resides is laughing at me as I vainly try to justify wasting that many brain cells on something which will never make me money, make me attractive to the opposite sex, or earn me the respect of any of the normal, nonbelieving public.
Oh well. I'll just stick it next to the near-abandoned Mummy Theme Park when it gets dusty and move on to the next obsession.
Severus Snape is dancing to the song in my head.
Yes. That Severus Snape. And he's dancing as I can only imagine Alan Rickman could if he had taken lessons from Andre 3000. It was quite disturbing, but funny. And that's when it hit me. This HP obsession has gone too far. When imaginary characters are doing crazy moves in my head it's time to surrender to the men in the white coats. At this point the HP universe has taken up an entire corner of my brain.
When I went to see PoA with my sister, who has only read the first book and seen the first two movies, she asked a simple question at the end of the movie, and I realized after the five minutes had passed that I was still explaining the answer in way too much detail. I have now reason to believe that the corner in which the HP universe resides is laughing at me as I vainly try to justify wasting that many brain cells on something which will never make me money, make me attractive to the opposite sex, or earn me the respect of any of the normal, nonbelieving public.
Oh well. I'll just stick it next to the near-abandoned Mummy Theme Park when it gets dusty and move on to the next obsession.
