Harry Potter and Whats-It-Called?

This summer - two weeks ago, specifically Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 was released in theaters.  I haven't been to see it yet, for a combination of reasons.  Time.  Money.  And not least, because the minute the lights come up in that theater, they will be going out on my childhood.  I know that sounds terribly melodramatic: and I also know I'm not the first person to express this same sentiment.  It's a generation thing: a generation, with a hero (yes, a fictional one) who grew up with us.  He and his friends taught us about good vs. evil, about fear and courage.  About friendship and love and family, and a hundred other things that a thousand other books have also tried to teach.  Perhaps Harry Potter worked because we were the same age as Harry, Ron, and Hermione - both on the pages (which we eagerly awaited) and the films (which we anticipated to the point of obsession).  To those of us a little shrewder, a little more worldly, the lessons of politics and religion and popular opinion were taught beyond the pages of the books.  We noticed how some parents wanted our hero taken away, how preachers thought he would challenge their God (an idea I always found silly.  The God I was taught to worship needn't fear a made-up 11 yr old), how critics scoffed at the story that captivated our hearts.

I don't know who your Harry Potter is: I don't know if I'd recognize him.  But I want you to know, I had one too.  I never played Pokemon, or collected Beanie Babies (do these words make sense to you?  Are they outdated terms, or do you know perfectly well what I'm talking about?) but I did read and read and read.  I cried when Cedric and Sirius and Fred died.  I laughed at Ron's antics, and looked up to Hermoine, brainy and skinny and bushy haired, awkward but loyal, passionate, and kind.  It may seem to you that I was never a kid - or if I was, it was a very long time ago.  But I assure you, on the night I finally sit in that theater, and hear the familiar theme swell, I will be a child for a little longer.  And whenever I turn to my beloved books, a small part of me will be a child again.

And though I may not appear to understand your passion for whatever it is, to be unfairly critical of whats-it-called or just not get those things, I assure you part of me does understand -

Always.

What Is An "Appropriate" Outfit?

"Your dress should be tight enough to show you're a woman and loose enough to show you're a lady." -Edith Head.

Trust me on this one, ok?  Classy never ever goes out of style.  Modesty doesn't have to equal stuffy, priggish, or even prim.  And sexy doesn't have to equal flashy, gaudy, or revealing.  Wear what makes you comfortable - if you have to question whether I/your father/someone else you love, respect or admire will approve, if you're constantly tugging at the hemline, if you're not sure you'll ever wear it again, if you're not able to move in it, if you wonder if it's showing too much, etc.  you probably don't look your best.  Because you're not confident.  And life is too short to waste on clothes that do not make you feel confident.

Actions Speak Louder Than Words.

When It Comes To Girls. . .

Whenever there is a question, do it the old fashioned way.  When in doubt, be a gentleman.  You don't want anything less than a lady anyway.

Beauty Advice, From Audrey

Be happy.  Be kind.  Be confident.  That is what will make you beautiful. 

Names & Numbers

This is something I try my best to do in my own life: I hope I will be able to lead by example.  If not, here is the goal I want us all to strive for.  Knowing more than people's names.  For instance, the librarian.  Do you know her name?  That is a start, but really the minimum.  I think it's important to know at least one more thing about her: her age, how many kids she has, her husband's name.  What about that place you go to eat all the time?  Do you know if your waitress is still in school?  What is she studying?  Or the gentleman who frequents your store.  Do you know anything about him at all?  Despite the way it looks and sometimes feels, this really is a small world.  We are all connected to each other, even if just by those weekly routines that bind us.

You never know (cliche as it may seem) what a difference a smile or a kind word can make.

How nice it is to be called by your name when checking someone out, instead of being treated like the "grunt behind the counter."  And conversely, how much less you'll want to act like a grunt if you're the one behind the counter.  There are name tags for a reason, you know.

How much less likely are you to snap at Denise, the English major, when you're having a bad day vs the lady who gets you coffee and seems to be moving too slow.

It isn't so difficult to be friendly: over time, it can simply become habit.  You don't have to be in someone's face, constantly chattering, or ask personal questions.  You don't have to know your hairdresser intimately. But it never hurts to humanize each other, in a world full of technology, shortcuts, and time savers.  No one wants to be a number, or even an empty name.  Try to make everyone you see a little less of a check-mark on your To Do List and a little more of a person.

Maybe they'll return the favor.

Hello.

Hi!

This probably seems a little strange.  After all, I already have a blog and a tumblr, too, for images and such.  Why do I need to take up more space in the blogosphere?  Haven't I done enough damage already?  Well, if you follow me over at A Space for Inspiration you know I have lots and lots and lots of things I'd like to be when I grow up: a (professional) dancer, actress, singer, a physical therapist, well traveled, an author, an expert cake-decorator.  One of my most cherished dreams though is to be a mom someday.

I know.  I'm young (21).  I'm still in school: I have years of establishing myself professionally still ahead of me.  Don't worry blogosphere, I have no intention of rushing into anything anytime soon. . . but I do intend to be a mom someday.  And while I'm still young and new at this whole "life," thing, I feel like we all learn lessons everyday.  Sometimes I see or hear or discover or realize something and it impacts me.  I want to save those things to share with my kids someday.  I want them to know the world is beautiful and challenging and scary.  I want them to know they've always been part of my plan.  I want to save those random moments of clarity, so I can share them with them someday.

I want something tangible to be able to hand to my twelve year old daughter - so maybe she'll feel better about herself at that age than I did. . . do now, most days.  I don't want that thought to slip through my fingers in the years between now and the first time my son struggles with something I don't have the words to help him with.

And I know people don't like to think this way, but what if something happens to me?  I mean, before my kids are grown?  They'll have something they can go to even if I'm not there.  God in heaven forbid. . .

So instead of writing out a journal or series of letters (a. my handwriting is terrible, b. the life of a performer is the life of a gypsy and I'd hate to loose something like that) or trying to keep it all in my head, I'm posting it here.  And yes, I know it's public - and thats ok.  It takes a village, right?

So if you're my future child reading this, I got a jump start on embarrassing you in public.  If you happen to be my family or friends, please share anything you think will help someday.  If you're a stranger who wants to follow along. . . feel free.

What follows are all the things I hope I remember to say.