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Far less hokey, and beautifully written, is The Rocky Horror Slayer Show, by a friend of mine. Best enjoyed with the RHPS soundtrack playing, as well as the requisite props.
There's also the joy of new instalments of The Very Secret Diaries (the first lot are here), although I haven't seen the Two Towers film yet or finished the book (quite!) so they don't make quite as much sense as I suspect they should.
Not fanfic, but very strange anyway, is the ludicrous Japanese game show Nasubi. I suspect freebie junkies like Sonia could learn something from that show. If only it were legal.
So, now I'm back with it and I have nothing to say. Nothing. My day has been filled with administrative tasks. I called about my job interview last Friday, but the chick wasn't there. She'll call me back tomorrow, probably, but since she said she'd call on Friday afternoon to let me know about the job, I'm not feeling too optimistic. I called the optician this morning, and was told that my glasses were still on order, almost two weeks after they were ordered. However, the optician called the supplier, and apparently the lenses were shipped but went catawampus somewhere on the way. They've re-ordered the lenses, and the glasses should be ready in the next day or two. Fingers crossed.
Tomorrow is New Year's Eve. I can't deal with that. It was Christmas a few minutes ago. On Wednesday, it will be 2003. I can't deal with that either. The last time I looked, it was 2000. This will be my third year out of high school. While this is a good thing in and of itself, it means that I'm getting pretty old. I'll be 20 in 2003. And as of the fourth of January, I will have been with Andrew for six years. Ponder that for a moment, if you will. The other problem with New Year's Eve being tomorrow is that it's too close to Christmas. I don't have real plans, and it doesn't look like I'll get any. Currently, it looks as if Andrew and I will spend the night at his house, watching a Red Dwarf marathon on cable and getting drunk. Sure, we could go into the city to watch the fireworks, but crowds that big make me nervous, and I'm not that keen on pyrotechnics. Just about every other year, one friend or other has hosted a party. Again, I could host one myself, but that sounds like a bunch more effort than I'm prepared to make at this late date.
Listening: Muthafucka on a Motorcycle - Machine Gun Fellatio
I could have been switching over the phone cables every time I wanted to use the net. Hell, I was doing that for months before we got the new line. But things were hectic before Christmas, and then for Christmas I got both The Sims Deluxe and Black and White. Now you see. I've been playing an awful lot of both, but probably more of the Sims. I'm onto my second baby with my current family, and it's driving me crazy. Conveniently, one of my adults is working nightshifts while the other works days, so there might be more sleep for both of them. I've started whistling like my sims.
I've also started making up chanteys like the shipwrights in Black and White.
Well, I've got a job interviewThe interview went fairly well, I think. The chicky seemed impressed, and I'd still like to work there, although they'd require me to somehow hide my nose piercing. Bah. In any case, they were supposed to call me this afternoon. My phone was off for a good part of the day because it was out of power, so any calls would have gone through to voicemail. If I try to call my voicemail, however, it tells me that my call cannot proceed, and gives me a number to call to add money to my account. This is most frustrating, especially as it's never cost me money to access my voicemail in the past. Thus, you see, that communication is becoming more difficult, and I am developing a Bermuda Triangle-style theory. I might have a job, and I just wouldn't know. This is a most depressing notion.
And I want to make a good impression
So I'd better shine my boots now
And then have some tea.
This year, I've had a lot of trouble with it. Probably more than any other year, and largely because of my unemployment and poverty. Also, Christmas last year wasn't the thrilling experience it could have been. The family became stressed and snarky, and a certain relative wasn't a terribly considerate guest. We've had a fairly reserved attitude to Christmas this year, and it's been more than a little about damage control and making Christmas enjoyable again. Last year, it was stinking hot and there were horrendous bushfires everywhere. This wasn't an immediate concern: I'm an inner-suburban chicky, and the bushfires rarely come within a few kilometres of us. So this year we decided to tone it down. We decided to avoid cooking on Christmas day, and a lot of our dishes will be cold meat and salads. Claire and I planned to make a vegie loaf, and we're plotting crumbed mushrooms. Both of these were to be cooked, or at least begun, today. However, I was the only one at home today, and a significant amount of my day was spent braving the crowds at the local googleplex trying to purchase the ingredients we forgot or couldn't obtain on our big trip on Sunday night. I did a bit of cleaning, and tonight I'll sit and crumb bread for the stuffing while I watch TV.
However, the weather this year doesn't seem to justify such efforts. It was 23° today, and cloudy with it, such that I was actually wearing a jacket with my jeans. It looks to be the same tomorrow, and possibly rainy. Unfortunately, such weather just doesn't signify Christmas for me in the way that heat haze and cicadas do. We'll see how we go. I'm off, now, to triturate a Vienna loaf.
I know, writing my referrals up like this horribly distorts my searches. But I love them so. I'll learn to resist one day. In the meantime, I take a great deal of immature joy in the fact that searching "Rupert Grint's Girlfriend" currently brings up my page, and only my page. Therefore, my quest is done, and I am Rupert Grint's girlfriend. Should I let him know, do you think?
Listening: One Way Or Another - Blondie
However, I had one of the most fangirl dreams ever, last night. Apparently, my subconscious wants me to be a slash writer. This could cause some problems, internal conflict being the least of them. In addition, whenever I'm at Andrew's I can't be bothered writing about my dreams when I've just woken up, so I tell him about them while I'm half-asleep. Usually at least one of us remembers what they were about, and usually that's a good thing, but now he's calling me a scary fangirl. Of course, this is the kind of crazy bullshit that's endearing to him, so I might be okay.
One of my Shameful Favourites, Yours, Mine and Ours, was on today and my kind sister taped it for me. Not all of it, mind, so I'm still hoping for a $5 prerecorded copy somewhere along the line.
Listening: Cha Cha All The Way - Capitol Studio Orchestra
However, it seems that while Christmas shopping brings out the best in sales staff, who were all wonderful today despite queues out the door, it brings out the absolute worst in my fellow shoppers. The number of women who decided the best way to get out of the aisle was to charge straight at me, ignoring the fact that I was jammed between two large people and trying to get out myself, was truly staggering.
And then there was the delightful incident the other day when I was in K-Mart with Andrew, looking at pedestal fans. A woman flounced by us and disrupted a stack-jointed display of sandwich toasters. I actually dived to stop them from crashing to the floor in a huge mess of cardboard and broken electrical parts - it was a split-second decision I probably wouldn't have made otherwise. And so there I was, face-down on the floor, with my arms full of sandwich toasters and the appliances liberally covering my upper torso. The bint in question then glanced at me. I had expected her to, if not acknowledge that she had knocked them over, at least surmise from my posture that I had attempted to save her from the 'you break it, you bought it' cost of so many mangled contraptions. Not so. The look she shot me was so full of disdain that it seems she believed I was either lying so in order to inconvenience her, or because I was suffering from some mental instability that deserved all the contempt she could offer me.
Listening: Pea - Red Hot Chili Peppers
Listening: Graciosa - Moby
The shopping was successful apart from the atrociousness. I have most of my ideas settled, and I was planning to do more shopping today. But when it came down to it, I just didn't want to. The ideas are the hard part, I know what to get, where to get it and how much it will cost, so getting it is a relatively simple thing. I think I probably don't do my best shopping when I'd rather be doing anything else.
Tribulation
This just in: Recruitment Agents, much like their better-known cousins the Real Estate Agents, are arseholes (or assholes, depending on your pronunciation). If you take applications by e-mail and automatically send a reply thanking me for my application and assuring me that one of your 'consultants' will contact me soon, I don't think it's too much to ask for such a contact to actually take place. Surely, if you can set up an automatic reply like that, you could set it up to send an automatic reply to all those whose applications you have rejected.
Similarly: I sent in an application on Saturday, knowing that applications would close on Tuesday. I hadn't heard anything this morning, so I called to ensure that my application had been correctly routed and was receiving proper consideration. I do not expect, nor do I think it is reasonable to expect, that my enquiries be answered with snooty disdain and a notion that I should just bugger off since applications closed long ago and the successful candidates have already begun. There is no way I could know this latter fact, as the arseholes failed to fulfil their promise of contacting and advising me as to the outcome of my application. Not good enough.
Listening: Gringo Like Me - Ennio Morricone
The reasons for this are twofold. For one, I've been poor, a condition that is only slightly abated, and so it's hard to think about buying presents when you don't have money for dinner. I exaggerate, I've been living on parental handouts (which I hate) but that's just for day-to-day expenses, really. I've been paid for my notetaking work and a horrible market research discussion, so things are looking better. But because of this relative poverty, I haven't been spending any time in the halls of commerce, so I've got no idea what's out there, and I haven't been thinking about presents. Similarly, I've been spending all my time at home looking for jobs and a new house for Andrew, so I'm not feeling Christmassy at all.
I've been trying, really: I've been visiting 'Tis The Season on a regular basis, as well as listening to Christmas Cocktails, but it just won't come. Carolfest was lovely, and it helped a bit, but the festive spirit was swept from me by my desperate fumblings towards obtaining gainful employments. Now, I've largely given up on finding any employment before the New Year, and now that I have a bit of money I can relax, or at least come as close to relaxation as I ever do.
And now I have to undertake the Christmas shopping at the last minute. There are a few problems with this. For one thing, I don't have much money to spend. Also, I'm feeling, as is my family, a bit like our house is full of things we don't use already, so buying lots more stuff will make it worse. Everything I'm planning to buy, so far, is either stuff that people actually want, or stuff that they will use. Of course, in my family books are considered a practical item, so there might be lots of that.
And then there's the others I have to shop for. I was thinking of not buying anything for my friends - I think they'll understand since I've been so poor for so long - but one girl has been prominently displaying her gifts for Andrew and I, so I don't know how we can escape that. Added to this, last Christmas she loudly criticised our present to her then-boyfriend in front of us, believing it was from someone else. Since she's one of the least tactful people I've ever met, I can only imagine the awkwardness that could ensue from a less-than-perfect gift.
Tomorrow, I shop. I'm leaving early wearing my comfy comfy sneakers. I'm taking plenty of rest breaks and keeping my fluids up. I'm taking a notebook full of scribbled ideas, prices and locations. I'm snatching up every catalogue I can find and stuffing it into my sunflowered backpack for later perusal. I'm gritting my teeth and ignoring the undersupervised children who delight in riding their scooters through crowded shops and over my feet. I'm bracing myself for the inevitable ear-splitting shriek of Mariah Carey performing her own special interpretation of every damn Christmas carol ever, complete with a few shrieks and extraneous notes thrown in to showcase her extraordinary range.
Tomorrow, I shop.
Listening: Green Christmas - Barenaked Ladies
Listening: Parklife - Blur
Well, I went to the optometrist today. I'm shortsighted. Big surprise there. The real giveaway was when I was navigating for my mum, and I could read the map fine, just not streetsigns. Conveniently, my mum is longsighted, but she couldn't help me in my Ancient History lectures, when I sat near the front but still couldn't quite make out the shapes of the Ancient Near East on the indistinct projection.
The problem for me today lay in the fact that I clearly need glasses, and having seen through the sample set she set up, I can't believe how much I've been missing, and can't wait to get them. I had to choose frames on the spot and this made me anxious, because glasses are expensive, and they're going to be on my face just about all of the time (although, since I won't be wearing them for reading or computer time, it might not be all that much). In such cases, I really prefer to do my research for weeks before committing to the purchase.
After shilly-shallying for something like an hour, I decided on a pair. The deciding factor was that I liked them although, since I haven't had glasses since I was twelve, I can't get my head around how they look on me. They were my favourites out of all the ones we looked at, though, and we did look in four different shops. I think I like them, I'm just not used to them. It's all a bit scary. My glasses should be ready on Christmas Eve, although I have a feeling the salesman was trying to hedge his way out of giving us a definite date, so I suspect he's not trying his hardest to have them ready for me soon.
Listening: Chanson d'Amour - Manhattan Transfer
Since I've been getting so many hits for "Rupert Grint's Girlfriend", I think I can conclude that I am, in fact, Rupert Grint's girlfriend. Sure, he's fourteen, but why would a little thing like age, fame and the separation of half the world stand in the way of true love? Oh, maybe it's not true love, seeing as I'm moving onto his co-star next. Heh, I'm a stud.
Listening: One Step Beyond - Madness
Yesterday, I discovered that I can still track them like this when my ears are popped from endless sinus troubles. In Andrew's room, because of his heavy curtains, there isn't enough light to pinpoint their location, so I had to turn the light on. Has there ever been invented a better weapon against insects than the slip-on backless shoe? I've never found a household insecticide that did more to cockroaches (especially the tiny indestructible kind) than make them more flammable, as well as stinking up the room and making me worry about inhaling so much poison. Frequently, when I tell people about the problems with cockroaches I've encountered, they've patronisingly told me to clean up after myself. I may be messy, but I'm not dirty - I have clothes and papers scattered about my room, but I certainly don't have food in there. Living in a rented house in Sydney, there's only so much you can do about the existing inhabitants. I did try those gas match things you use to light crappy old stoves, but found they fit more into the category of torture rather than execution, and deemed it inhumane. And to those who see a paradox between my eschewal of meat and smashing of cockroaches, I leave this: if a rampaging cow, say, was in my house, eating my food and spreading disease as well as reproducing at a prodigious rate, I might think about killing it, if I had the means to do it quickly and with relatively little trauma to the animal.
Listening: Weep Day - They Might Be Giants
I'm off to spend the day with Andrew. We're going to see Spirited Away, then I'm going back to his house for hugs, and he'll ply me with soup and ice cream. I'd like to thank my flu drugs, without which this day would never have happened.
Listening: Good - Better Than Ezra
Listening: An Englishman in Ibiza - Disco Stu
Listening: Shove - L7
What with all my avoidance of writing, I've been fairly preoccupied with reading. I've been trying to track down a copy of The Two Towers not only because I want to read it before seeing the film, but because I loved the first book and I'm anxious to keep reading. Naturally, every library I have access to has no copies in stock, because they're all out with a million reserves on them, or simply missing. Given I'm not the most pecunious at the moment, I've moved onto begging friends to let me borrow their copies. In the meantime, I'm reading The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys, a book I discovered by accident while searching for others in the library. I started last night, and have only read the first chapter, but so far I like it. And, of course, there's the fanfic. At present I'm ensconced in two epic fanfics, After the End and Harry Potter and the Third Key. Being a dedicated little addict, I check regularly for updates. Third Key hadn't been updated for some time, so I was rather thrilled when I checked in this morning to find two new chapters and, what's more, the hit counter showed that I was the first person to view the stories. Ah, how I love being first.
I love being challenged, but I'm extraordinarily bad at coming up with challenges. The way the challenge with Chris goes, we take it in turns to suggest phrases to be included in a story. I found this extraordinarily difficult, and came up with only stupid phrases. And so Chris chose, "I've always had a certain affinity with caramel" from my list of prompts, and so I had to write about it when really, deep down, I think I was hoping he'd declare my prompts too crap to write on and come up with some of his own. Sometimes, I think I second-guess myself too much sometimes.
The story was due on Monday night, and I begged for an extension to tonight. It's mostly finished. Crap and short, but nearly finished. I'm sending its bloody carcass to Chris in a few minutes, unless I can find a satisfactory ending before then. I have a feeling it could be a good story, but I feel a bit crippled by the difficulties I've been having. And it's a bit of a kick in the teeth, really, because since I've been writing regularly I've always found that if I sit down with a story I can figure out its flow, I can get it done. Not so with this one, although that might reflect more my anxieties about other stuff in my life, such as my persistent unemployment. Still, it doesn't have to be perfect, and I can continue tinkering with it if I have ideas later.
Listening: Tearjerker - Red Hot Chili Peppers
| Disorder | Rating |
| Paranoid: | Low |
| Schizoid: | Low |
| Schizotypal: | High |
| Antisocial: | Low |
| Borderline: | Low |
| Histrionic: | Moderate |
| Narcissistic: | Moderate |
| Avoidant: | Moderate |
| Dependent: | Low |
| Obsessive-Compulsive: | High |
-- Click Here To Take The Test -- | |
A few weeks ago I had a dream in which I had wings. Huge, beautiful, blue, feathered wings. I didn't use them in the dream, though, and when I woke up I wanted to cry because I had no wings.
Last night, I dreamed that I had wings, but they were smaller than in the previous dream, and thus couldn't maintain prolonged flight. I was able to fly over a castle wall, but when I tried to fly over a short stretch of land I stayed close to the ground and scattered a crowd that had assembled there to watch a quest or test of some kind, as myself, a knight and a girl on a stocky pony with bells in its hair were all trying to find the princess. The princess was off behind the castle somewhere, and as the knight was the clear favourite he was allowed to go off to the left of the castle. The girl on the pony and I had to go by the right, and we weren't allowed to start until well after the knight had got going.
I'd love to dream some more of this story, or perhaps write it. In any case, I'm excited about the prospects my dreams hold and am almost anxiously waiting to sleep tonight, so I can learn to fly some more.
Listening: Theme From A Summer Place - Percy Faith
Listening: Zoot Suit Riot - Cherry Poppin' Daddies
I also applied for two jobs: one casual at one of my favourite museums, and the other part-time temp doing night shift data entry. I am greatly proud of having shaken off my inertia. Congratulate me!
I'm off to meet up with Andrew. We're seeing Chamber of Secrets. I am still jampy about this.
Listening: Love You Madly - Cake
Perhaps I should name my computer 'please'.
Listening: Without Me - Eminem
Listening: Mary - Supergrass
Listening: Super 50 - Lunapop
In previous years, I've done temp work at this time of year. I'm quite valuable as a temp because I type at ninety words per minute, so the work isn't hard to come by, and it pays well. The problem lies in the fact that I then have to struggle to find a new job at the start of the university year, which I hate. Previous start-of-year job hunts have led me to working at the Evil Homogenous American Coffee Franchise, and for the Sleazeball Accountant. For these reasons, I've been trying to find something ongoing and casual. No job has been forthcoming. So, as of today, I'm going to start looking for temp work. I figure I couldn't possibly be any more desperate for money at the start of the year than I am now, less than three weeks before Christmas.
Listening: Alienation's For The Rich - They Might Be Giants
Listening: I Want You To Want Me - Letters to Cleo
News has come over the radio that the majority of houses in our area have lost power. I'm off to scrounge up all the candles I can find.
Listening: Something Borrowed, Something Blue - Ben Lee
Listening: Yeh Yeh - They Might Be Giants
Listening: Praise You - Fatboy Slim
The portrayal of The Burrow was wonderful although I hadn't imagined that it would be so very vertical. I liked how wooden the living areas were but since we didn't see any of the rest of the house it didn't feel quite complete. Percy's rumpled appearance at the kitchen table was accompanied by a break from his usual bombast, which was refreshing but perhaps not the most consistent characterisation, while Mr. Weasley's introduction was smooth. Julie Walters' Mrs. Weasley in full rant mode was less shrill than I had imagined, but my enjoyment of her character was jarred by the one line of blatantly expositional dialogue in the film: "There's one place we can get all that: Diagon Alley."
Ginny's flouncing entrance seemed hollow and fake, much like Harry's, and this did not effectively convey Ginny's crush on Harry, a matter not helped by the film's complete eschewal of the Valentine scene. The creation of the tension between Harry and Ginny because of her crush on him is not complete, where in the book this serves to add to Ginny's feelings of alienation and betrayal of wizard-kind everywhere as she almost brought Voldemort back to life and power, as well as awkwardness at the fact that Harry saved her. In addition, Mr. Weasley in the book advises his children sagely: "Don't trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain," creating additional pathos for Ginny, but Mr. Weasley's lines in the film are minimal and he does not advise his children in this way.
The Floo network in the film was rather different from how I had imagined it based on the books - I thought the idea was that a fire had to be burning already, then you threw Floo Powder into it, then said where you wanted to go, and then stepped into the flames. This system gives a plausible reason why Harry misspoke as he chokes on ash and Floo Powder, rather than just being a silly git who says "Diagonelly". His time in Knockturn Alley rather disappointed me as well, seeing as it was so short and skipped a very interesting scene with Harry in the cupboard while Draco and Lucius Malfoy chat with Borgin about Dark artefacts, revealing much about the relationship between Draco and his father, and also suggesting that Draco is deeply jealous of Harry's fame.
Harry is re-united with Hermione who puzzlingly performs Oculus Reparo on his glasses once more - is there something we don't know about the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry? Then again, this charm was performed by Hermione in the film of The Philosopher's Stone before she had received any magical education at all, and the failure to include mention of Harry's warning for destroying the hideous cake suggests a decision to ignore this legislation altogether. The scene in Flourish and Blotts introduces Gilderoy Lockhart, as well as showing how Harry is quite literally dragged into the public eye, as well as that his resentment about this is not perceived by those who envy his fame, as shown here by Draco who descends from his vantage point to grumble, “Bet you loved that.” His acting was no more flouncy than his character demanded, although his frequent eyebrow raising gave the impression that he was hitting on almost every other character, and leaving me expecting him to ask, “How you doin’?” Interactions with the deliciously evil Lucius, played perfectly by Jason Isaacs, somewhat made up for the deleted seen in Borgin and Burkes, while the interaction between Lucius Malfoy and Arthur Weasley was deeply disappointing, as instead of kicking some dark wizard arse Mr. Malfoy simply makes a few not-so-snappy remarks and nods at Malfoy almost meekly, leaving me with a feeling that, even in the wizarding world, nice guys finish last.
When the day arrives for the trio to go back to Hogwarts the pace accelerates considerably. Suddenly they are having their first lessons with the astonishingly incompetent Gilderoy Lockhart, who in my opinion could not have been played by anyone other than Kenneth Branagh. The first Quidditch match comes and goes with all the tension and rivalry expected of Harry and Draco. As the mystery picks up, even less attention is paid to the running of the school - lessons are ignored, as is the House Cup, while Harry, Ron and Hermione work on the Polyjuice Potion. This section of the film passed in something of a blur, and the next thing I knew, Hermione had been petrified and the boys were struggling to solve the mystery without the brains of the team. Professor McGonagall's announcement that the school will have to be closed if the culprit is not found (clearly blatant incitement to place themselves in danger in order to solve the mystery) marked the start of the final phase of the film, and the contempt she shows for Lockhart would have been more effective if his popularity with witches everywhere had been made clearer, and if his many irritating actions had been included. Harry and Ron's insistance on Lockhart accompanying them is amusingly punitive although it's clear that his presence is of little benefit. Lockhart's determination to perform memory charms on Harry and Ron is delightfully foiled by Ron's broken wand, and while Ron has suffered through a year without a working wand it seems worth it as it brings Lockhart his comeuppance. Ron's calmness in knocking Gilderoy out with a rock (albeit a ridiculously small rock) is the perfect counterpoint to his frequently terrified manner due to the number of spiders in the story.
The confrontation with Tom Riddle struck me as rather short and confused, although I found the scene in the book a bit too litany-of-woe. Had Harry built up a relationship with Tom through his diary prior to jumping into his memory, this scene would have been all the more effective through the irony of Harry Potter having been friends with Voldemort, as well as that Harry's resentment at Voldemort's treatment of his parents (and all right-thinking wizards everywhere) would have taken on a more personal note, as he was friends with the evil wizard as a boy. Instead, Harry recognises Tom from the memory sequence but their acquaintance is not sufficient to make Harry overly surprised that Tom is responsible, although the revelation of Tom alter ego is shocking in the film not because Harry particularly trusted him, but because Voldemort's origin in such a charismatic figure does not allow sufficient distancing of the 'good' viewer or participant (e.g. me, Harry) from the figure of evil. The sword Harry pulls out of the Sorting Hat is so light as to appear a toy, while in the book the sword is granted to Harry in response to his desperate wishes for help, as he believes his situation to be hopeless. The lack of any such cry leaves Dumbledore's assertion that "Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it" unproven and thus something of a loose end. The money shot, in which Harry stabs the Basilisk in the brains with his toy sword, looked gory for the sake of goriness, and reminded me of an old Chinese horror movie. Ginny's awakening does not have the poignancy it would have had if time and effort had been dedicated to developing the crush relationship, and it seems to me that this failure will have negative ramifications for the rest of the films in the series.
The confrontation between Harry and Dumbledore and Lucius Malfoy in Dumbledore's office provides the dramatic conclusion - as Dumbledore has been restored to his office as Headmaster and Lucius' underhanded methods have been revealed, it is clear that the good guys have won, although Harry's knowledge of the Malfoys' cache of Dark artefacts would have added to this victory. Harry's manumission of Dobby works perhaps better in the film than in the book - the physics of getting a book into a sock puzzle me, and the demonstration of the powers of a House Elf sets Dobby up as a considerable ally such as he will become.
The final scene of the leaving feast has sparked some controversy. Hermione's running into Harry's arms has prompted some to view this as an implication of something more than friendship between Harry and Hermione. Far more significant to my mind was the following not-hug between Ron and Hermione - I know that at age twelve I would have happily hugged the boy with whom I was friends on a purely platonic level, especially if he was always being pursued by a force of terrible evil and I feared for his safety, but that level of physical intimacy would have been awkward with the boy I had a crush on. My R/H shipper heart thrilled at this inclusion, although I was puzzled as I had not read it into this book - perhaps, despite ignoring several of the more obvious elements of foreshadowing in this book, the filmmakers elected to develop this plot before it becomes crucial. It is also possible that Rowling's advice prompted them to begin this subplot now, as the woman has declared on several occasions that such a relationship is being developed.
Ultimately, any adaptation is just that, and bits have to be taken out for the sake of the flow of the piece and brevity - well, relative brevity. Although I resented the lack of foreshadowing and the fact that the clues were only revealed when the characters discovered them, it makes sense for a film to show the mystery being uncovered while the book allows the reader to solve the mystery. I loved the film, and despite my complaints I found it far more enjoyable than the book (which is my least favourite of the Harry Potter books) and even better than the first film.
