Harry Potter Withdrawals

Causes:

• The sudden and brutal ending to what was a delightful romp with Harry and his friends
• Reaching the end of the Harry Potter series after being solely devoted to them for weeks
• Watching others bask in the joy of the Harry Potter series

Symptoms:

• Feelings of guilt and betrayal when considering what book to read next
• A sense of loss and confusion
• A painful, constricting feeling in your chest
• A feeling that a beloved friend has left you
• Reoccurring dreams that involve Voldemort or Draco Malfoy chasing you
• The inability to stop envisioning particular scenes throughout the series
• An intense sadness whenever you think of all those who died in the fight against Voldemort
• A firm belief that Harry and his friends are still living out there in our world—we just can't see them

Treatment:

• Discuss your feelings with another devoted fan; it is always best to let others know that you are suffering so that they can help you
• Better yet, convert someone else to the series so that you can live vicariously through them
• Write about the things you have learned or felt
• Make up your own Harry Potter-themed game (I have a trivia and a scattergories game to my credit)
• Play a Harry Potter-themed game that has already been made (my family has Harry Potter Clue and SceneIt, as well as a Quidditch card game that is lying around somewhere)
• Read the "auxiliary" Harry Potter books: The Tales of Beedle the Bard, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, and Quidditch Through the Ages to help you wean yourself away from Harry Potter's world
• Find a new book to read. Don't worry—Harry won't feel like you betrayed him
• Be active! Play outside, make something, or go somewhere
• Time. Even if you have tried all of the above, only time can heal such gaping holes in your life

In case you haven't noticed, I finished the 7th Harry Potter book yesterday. I am a champion survivor of Harry Potter Withdrawals, but that doesn't mean that it isn't hard to let the books go when I finish them, even several read-throughs later. Particularly the 7th one—that is surely the most awesome book in the universe.

I try to pace myself when I read the books. I can't do anything nonstop anyway because I start feeling guilty about all of the other things I am neglecting. So this time 'round, I did most of my Harry Potter reading at night so that I could be free from the burden of guilt, allowing me to fully immerse myself in this wonderful world.

It is really easy to pace yourself when you know exactly where all of the intense parts are. I was able to plan the reading of the intense last pages of each book so that I could read them in the privacy of my own bedroom after everyone else had settled down for the night. This system worked very well until I got to the 7th book.

Usually by the time I get to the 6th book, I am ready to put Harry Potter aside and move on with my life. But, I have to see it to the end and I dive into the 7th book. As of the present time, the 7th book is the only book in the series that still makes my heart race and my foot tap in anticipation. And I failed at the whole pacing myself thing. I read the last 400 pages of the book in one day because I simply could not put it down; there was so much awesome stuff going on. I did take a few breaks—I watched the entire football game, and when I was a page and a half away from Fred dying, I put my bookmark in and went up to finish watching Iron Man 2 with my family. I just wasn't ready to say goodbye to Fred yet.

After I finished the 7th book for the first time, I started the whole series over again because the shock of being Harry Potter-less probably would have killed me at that point. So from that point on, I've always paid close attention to Fred and what makes him different from George. Many people say that they are the same person, but I strongly disagree. Fred is a lot meaner than George—particularly to Ron and other unfortunate younglings—but he also has a loving, compassionate heart. Underneath all of that fire and mischief, Fred was always the leader of the two twins, always the first to follow the right path, even though it was hard. George was always a split second behind Fred, but Fred was always the leader. Because of his undying loyalty to the good things of the world, he didn't think about the things he would have to sacrifice; he knew those things didn't matter. Life got pretty hard for him toward the end, but he was able to laugh with George through it all. And it was Fred who forgave Percy first. Needless to say, I love Fred a whole lot, and it was really hard to say goodbye to him this time.

Anyway . . . I've been thinking about which books are may favorite and have come up with the following order:

1. Book 7
2. Book 3
3. Book 4
4. Book 5
5. Book 1
6. Book 2
7. Book 6

I'm still debating between whether the 2nd or 6th book should take the last spot, but I think the 6th one wins by a tiny hair. I have read books 6 and 7 five times, book 5 about six times, book 4 seven–eight times, books 2 and 3 eight–ten times, and book 1 about eight times. Reading the books this time wasn't as much of an adventure; it was more like being reunited with old friends. Except for the 7th book—that book had my heart racing almost as much as it did the first time.

Sigh. It is just so hard to move on with life after you finish something so good. I'm a little worried about how I'll handle the next week without Harry Potter, actually. Harry Potter has been my escape from my meaningless life for almost a month and it kept me from disappearing under a cloud of depression a couple of times. Now I'm going to have to adjust without it.

But God managed to teach me a couple of things along the way, so I think I'll be fine. :) And, as always, I can't help but marvel at the incredible world God has given us in addition to J.K. Rowling's fantasy world. I may wish that I could journey off to Hogwarts with my very own magic wand and trunkful of spellbooks, but I would take my life with the gospel over that fantasy life any day. It's always comforting to know that even though you're leaving a spectacular fantasy life behind, your real life—confusing and hard as it may be—is always worth returning to because it is . . . better.

So now that you all know just how big of a freak I am, I think I am going to be brave and try to go to bed without my Harry Potter bedtime story. Wish me luck.

Why I love being home alone

It's a gorgeous rainy day and Tyrel is at work. Shannan will be home in a half hour or so, but I have had another lovely day all to myself. You'd think that I'd go crazy cooped up in the house all the time, but when I am all alone with a house full of toys, normal rules no longer apply.

When I am home alone, I can do whatever the heck I want—which usually means that I do what I usually do, just a bit louder and more out in the open. I can watch whatever movie my heart desires, I can bang on the piano for as long as I want as loud as I want (I'm not sure how the neighbors feel about that, but they haven't complained yet), I can read without being disturbed, I can turn on some music and sing full out without feeling stupid, and I can eat chocolate without having to share any—that is, if I dispose of the evidence after I'm done. And when it's raining or snowing outside, I can put my pj bottoms and socks on and cuddle up by a window. Being home alone is awesome.

A lot of parents worry when they leave their teenagers home alone, but my parents never had to worry too much, because we Carters are very unimaginative with the ways we spend our solitary time. Being left home alone while the rest of the family goes out to the movies is most certainly not a punishment; it is something that is sought after. It's no wonder we're all shy—we just like our alone time too much. Even during my teen years, I never even thought of throwing a party or inviting boys over. All I cared about was that rare peace and solitude.

Leaving KIDS home alone is another matter completely, however. My parents are still finding out the kinds of things we did while they were gone, the most extravagant of those being jumping off the roof onto the trampoline and pouring mop water all over the kitchen floor so we could slide around the kitchen. And it wasn't just the younger children that caused all the mischief; I'll admit that I was usually at the head of the mischievous activity. I guess I liked being the boss more than I was willing to admit even to myself.

It all comes down to freedom; when you are all alone, there is no one to laugh at you for wanting to watch a chick flick for the 40th time, no one there to contradict your views, no one there to compete with over the piano, tv, or bathroom. And no one there to tell on you if you do something you don't want anyone to know about. :) And I'm not talking about when you did something you weren't supposed to do—I'm talking about the things you do for innocent fun that no one else would understand.

So here I am, sitting in the dark, with nothing but the hum of the fridge to keep me company. I'll be the first to say that I get a little bit too much pleasure out of this.

Humans and creation

This week, I finished 2 major cross-stitching projects that I started about 10 years ago. Anyone who has ever cross-stitched before should know that most projects take months, if not years, to complete. Needless to say, finishing 2 of these projects in one week makes me feel quite excited and proud that I did it. I gave up on both projects several times because they had so many mistakes: my First Vision one wasn't what I expected it to be (the software that converted Greg Olsen's First Vision painting to a cross-stitch pattern was far from perfect) and my horse/water one was just so complex that it always took me a half hour to figure out where to start and required intense concentration from then on out.

But conference weekend gave me the spark I needed to finish both patterns. I have been doing a lot of sitting this week, putting large amounts of strain on my back, because I was driven to finish these two long-unfinished projects. In truth, I never thought I would finish them. But I did. And it was a great feeling.

I've been thinking a lot about the Creation lately, probably because we talk about it a lot in my temple prep class, and I just got through Moses and Abraham and just started Genesis—all of which outline the Creation story. I've thought a lot about why we would need to have 3 records (actually, more like 4; if I remember correctly, there's another one in the Bible somewhere . . .) of the creation of the world as we know it.

I've also been thinking a lot about how to fill my large amounts of time, and I have found that when I am creating something, even if it is as unimportant as a picture display of horses running through water or a delicious batch of breadsticks, I feel like I am accomplishing something worthwhile. My life doesn't seem as meaningless; I have a goal in mind, and the accomplishment of that goal makes me happy and proud of my accomplishments.

And I know that I am not the only one who finds pleasure and satisfaction out of creation. Tyrel has been almost as bored as I have the past month or so, and about a week ago, he started building an elaborate K-nex contraption that circles the entire living room. He knows that it will only be a matter of time before mom can't take it anymore and he has to take it down, but the joy of building something of his own design and then testing it out is enough to keep him at it.

In short, we are all creators. That is something we get from our Father in Heaven. He created this world for us, and I'm sure he got an immense sense of satisfaction when he stopped on that 7th day and rested. He probably couldn't wait for us to get down here so that we could start trying out his creations. And because God takes pleasure in creation, so do we. It is in our very nature.

So even if what we are creating is not something that will bless generations, the very act of creation is much more important than the final project. By building, sewing, cooking, writing, teaching, raising children, by doing thousands of other things, we come closer to God. He has given us a small amount of his power and it is only natural that when we sit back to rest after finishing a long project, we cannot help but think, "And I saw that it was good."

General conference weekend! Woo hoo!!!

Like many of you out there, I absolutely love conference weekend. It's pretty much like Christmas, only we get it twice a year rather than just once. For starters, I get to spend an entire weekend in my pajamas with my hair braided, I have an excuse to cross-stitch and/or crochet for hours on end, we get tons of superb food, no church meetings on Sunday, and lots of quality family time. Then add the spiritual feast that is spread out over 2 days and things just can't get a whole lot better than that.

I've always found it quite fascinating to hear from other people what they thought the theme of conference was and what their favorite talks were. A lot of the time, people express similar themes and favorite talks, but there are also a surprising number of different themes and favorite talks. It just goes to show that conference speaks to all of us individually and in our own special ways.

So, some of my favorite conference moments:

• Elder Holland's reminiscing from before the dawn of time and his words of thanks to his mother.
• "But what does that have to do with flying an airplane?" Possibly the most awesome thing that has ever been said in conference.
• The family choir. That is one of the most precious things I have ever seen.
• As usual, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir was amazing, but I thought "We Thank Thee, O God for a Prophet" and "Come Let Us Rejoice" were particularly powerful.
• President Eyring's talk on trusting the Lord.
• Elder Oaks' clarifying points on personal and general revelation.

If I had actually taken notes like I had planned, that list would be a lot longer. Maybe next conference . . . And some day, I am going to dress up like a guy so that I can go to the priesthood session so I can hear the MTC choir. I think they should sing at the Relief Society broadcast; I am quite sure that would boost attendance.

As for the theme? It was a bit harder than usual for me to put my finger on it this time, but I think it would have to be centered on not following the ways of the world and simplifying our lives, particularly by weeding out certain technologies. President Eyring's talk really struck home to me. Being the independent person that I am, I sometimes forget that God is in charge of all things and that he will make sure everything is okay—that is not entirely up to me.

It is somewhat scary how often we keep hearing the pornography, immorality, and drug talks, but this conference I was particularly struck by how lovingly the Bretheren addressed us when they touched on these topics. They weren't rebuking us, but rather encouraging us to change, filled with love and hope. While I don't have any of those issues in my life, I know that these problems are growing alarmingly fast in the church, but the Bretheren will not give up on these people because they know that through the power of the Atonement, miracles will happen. Their genuine love and concern for each of us was more action-inspiring than any rebuke ever could have been (unless, of course, it was delivered by Jeffery R. Holland; his talks are always awesome).

So the presents are opened and the house is a mess; now it is time to clean up and use our presents the best way we know how, praying that they will last us until next general conference.

A biking excursion

Today, just after I finished my workout (20 minutes on the elliptical and 20ish minutes of arm and abs exercises), Tyrel asked me if I wanted to go on a bike ride with him. He's asked me to go with him a couple times before, and today was yet another fantastically gorgeous day, and frankly, what else am I going to do? so I gave in this time. I figured that I could handle it because I've been steadily getting into shape for a month now, and besides, I just couldn't resist the perfect fall weather.

We pulled out my dad's dusty bike that he only managed to ride once before giving it up. I never quite understood why it was so hard for my parents to ride a bike, and while we were riding down our first flat stretch of road, I was even more confused. Riding a bike was easy! Why had I been avoiding it for so long?

It was when we started going up our first hill (actually, the whole bike ride was basically one big, long hill) when I realized something that I had overlooked: I was going a bike ride with Tyrel. There was NO way I could have prepared myself for that. To make matters worse, I haven't even touched a bike in over a decade. In fact, the last time I rode a bike, I was still half convinced that it was a horse, I had enough energy to run it up Cortez Drive while talking to it, and it had a life history a lot like Black Beauty's.

So there I was, puffing like crazy but trying to breathe quietly (didn't really work) while Tyrel was talking up a storm about golf courses, fires, houses he's delivered to, dirt trails he has tried to take his go-cart on, and the 7 bikes that he has had in his lifetime. And I was stupid enough to try to respond every now and then, just to prove that I wasn't dying. However, I don't think my attentiveness (or lack of it) would have affected his enthusiasm one bit.

I think the biggest problem for me was not so much the bike ride itself, but trying to keep up with Tyrel's endless energy. If I had taken the ride by myself, it would have taken about twice as long, but the walk up wouldn't have been nearly as miserable. Oh well.

My pain and fatigue disappeared when we started the downward descent, though. The rush of wind on my now-purple face felt exquisitely wonderful and the speed was exhilarating. It was the closest I'll ever get to flying. So while Tyrel was pointing out landmarks, barking at passing dogs, and trying to keep up a conversation, I was enjoying the view and the wind, thinking about all of the similar rides down Elk Ridge I experienced when I was younger and a lot more carefree.

And so, I thus survived an hour-long bike ride with Tyrel, the sucker of all energy. And I think I might do it again, though not after working out on the elliptical.

On second thought, I'd rather ride a motorcycle.

A picture of fall

I've been wanting to write something on my blog for a week now, but with my life being as meaningless as it is, there just isn't anything to WRITE about. It's been very frustrating.

However, I have gotten over the depression of not having something going on in my life, and have started to focus my energies on other things, such as making a cookbook and trying out a few of the recipes. It has been quite fun putting it together, and now I actually want to cook something. I've never been much of a cook; I am far too lazy and I usually don't have the time, anyway. However, time is about the only thing I have these days, and I've got generations of good cooks to live up to. Both my grandmas were phenomenal cooks, and both my parents are excellent cooks as well—they just don't really have the time to do it. So I am going to give this goal a try and we'll see what happens.

I also—finally—went for a drive today. Tyrel was excited about that—he got the house to himself for like an hour. I went to Smith's to pick up a few things, and then I took the long way home (through Salem, to the top of Woodland Hills, and back down again).

It felt wonderful to be driving again. At first I just reminisced about all of the houses that I used to deliver pizza to. Even years later, I still glare at the houses where the people always stiffed me, or never shoveled their driveway, or never bothered to get dressed before answering the door, or didn't believe us when we said we could get there in under a half hour, which meant I always had to wait 10 minutes for them to get home. And I still smile at the houses where I got good tips, met friendly people, or encountered really extravagant Christmas decorations.

But once I got to Woodland Hills Drive, I got to enjoy the scenery a bit more. I took my camera with me so that I could take pictures along the way. I really should stop doing that—I've already got tons of fall pictures from similar excursions like the one I took today, and I wasn't really watching where I was going half the time. True, there wasn't a lot of traffic, but there was the hazard of falling off the mountain or running into a house that I had to worry about.

I always hear people say that we Elk Ridgeians have a beautiful view. I always heartily agree with them until they add "of the valley" to that sentence. Then I just feel confused. Does no one ever look at the mountains on their way up Elk Ridge Drive, or are they too preoccupied with getting to the top of the road to notice? I love that drive up that hill. Not only does it bring me home, but the mountains are always spectacular, no matter what the season (however, I am a bit biased toward the fall season). I would much rather look at that scenic view than look down at Payson valley, which is full of cars, pollution, and buildings.

So all in all, I really enjoyed my drive. I am to the "Su" songs on my iPod, so my drive was full of songs about sunshine and summertime, which only added to the good feelings in my car. As I raced down those long stretches of road with my window down, I couldn't help but feel deeply content with my life.

I am planning on taking another one of these drives in a few weeks when the leaves are even more colorful than they are now. Heck, I might even make it a daily thing.

I decided last year that if I could pick any time of year to get married, it would be October. The weather is usually still fantastic and nature puts on a show more beautiful than spring, summer, or winter ever could. The browns, yellows, oranges, and reds of the trees would add another level of perfection to that special day. And, since I am done with school I don't need to plan everything around school anymore—all I need to do is find a guy who is done with school, and then I could make this dream a reality. :)

However, wedding or no wedding, the fall season will forever have a special place in my heart.

Another mid-day drag

The hour is once again upon me. I have done my routine for the day—I worked out, applied for a job, took a shower and did my hair (which was a bit silly of me because it was raining; straightening your hair during a rainstorm is a bit like eating a candy bar while washing your face), made lunch, watched a movie with Tyrel, read Harry Potter—and it's only 1:24. It is usually about now that I start to get bored and really sleepy. I've never been much of a morning person, and afternoons definitely aren't my favorite either. I'm much more alive at night.

But I finally got my sleeping pattern back on track again and I am going to try really hard not to take a nap again.

I'm kind of surprised that I haven't gone crazy yet. I've been out of work for almost a month now and I don't leave the house that often. There are definitely times when I wish that I had more in my life, and on days like today I am sick to death of being around Tyrel all the time, but for the most part, this freedom hasn't been so bad. It has forced me to slow down a little (actually, a lot) and to enjoy life the way it is.

Sometimes I will frantically try to finish up new projects because I figure that once I get a job, I won't have time to finish anything. But then I don't hear back from the latest person I had an interview with, and things will slow back down again.

I have found that I am not as self-motivated as I thought I was. If there is no reason to do something—whether that be money, grades, or responsibility—I have a hard time making myself do it. I know I should be using my time to help others, not just to indulge myself. I could be doing more to prepare myself for a career—I've only opened my new Chicago Manual of Style a couple of times. You would think that boredom and lack of excitement in my life would be a great motivator to get myself out there more, to accomplish something that'll affect someone other than just me. But I have become accustomed to this easy life I have got going.

I guess this shouldn't surprise me, though. I have always been a lot more productive when I have too many things on my plate.

Sigh. I don't know if this blog entry was sufficient to sidestep my nap. When you've got all the time in the world to do stuff, it's really hard to actually DO stuff.