Harry Potter dreams...

Mama, Shosha, and I went to Charleston this weekend and listened to about 10 hours of The Order of the Phoenix and I've been having dreams ever since. I keep dreaming about Professor Umbridge, that maggot-of-a-woman. In my dreams, I just throw fits whenever she appears, but I never seem to affect her demeanor--calm, collected, and absolutely loathsome. And then I have dreams where I am totally and completely infatuated with Snape. Of course, I think I just have an unhealthy attraction to Alan Rickman. And sometimes in my dreams, Alan Rickman is Sherlock Holmes from Laurie King's Mary Russell series, which makes me want to go reread all those books...but I will not. I have a list a mile long already. I don't have time to reread things.

But if I do end up moving to San Francisco, I will need to reread Locked Rooms and The Art of Detection.

I'm not really any closer to figuring out what I need to do with myself. I'm just in a vile mood lately, which I am working on as it is no fun to be in such a state. Things have stopped making sense to me. The things I have wanted for so long, I'm not sure I want anymore (or I just feel indifferent in the face of this seemingly impossible reality). But I haven't found any knew things to want...so I just feel lost in it. Unsure of my direction, restless in my present, distrustful of my mind.
Nothing is making me excited...not grad school, not New Zealand, not California, not anything. It's just one big void.

I just realized that Alan Rickman is very very old.