Sharing our feelings

Since it seems like we're all sharing our feelings here on our blogs, I'll join in, although be prepared: as with most of what I write, it's tongue-in-cheek.

I have to express my gratitude that Heavenly Father blesses me in spite of my lack of faith. I asked specifically today for two things: One, that I would not throw up in the middle of my final exam for my BYU class, and two, that I would be able to remember at least the things I studied. Both requests were granted. This proves to me that I need to stop worrying and start believing, because honestly, most of my prayers are answered, and they're usually answered in the way I asked for them to be.

I'm also having some feelings about Harry Potter. No, I don't imagine myself WITH him in any significant way or anything like that (get our minds out of the gutter!). I just have this nagging worry in my mind that Book 7 will come out, I'll cheat and look at the last page, and he'll be gone. Lots of people had the same worry prior to Book 6's release and he was fine (although we had to deal with the collective anguish of losing Dumbledore). It's one thing to have the books over and done with; another thing completely to have him leave his fictional existence forever. And honestly - it's not like he'll die and Voldemort will die, but then Harry gets to be resurrected. There's only one way that happens and we'll all have to wait for that. On the other hand, what a shame if someone else (traitor!) were to continue the series after Rowling dies - or even 50 years from now - and we get another "Scarlett?" Remember that scene on the beach?

Fortunately, I have a lot of other things to do besides mull this over constantly. Either way, life goes on for me (unless that semi with my name on it comes around the corner) and it's only going to get busier at this point.

While I'm on the topic of second-rate sequels - what was up with that last Anne of Green Gables movie - "Anne: The Continuing Story?" I think it would have been better NOT to have continued the story. They garbled the plot and, let's face it, Anne looks about 48 years old. Let's stop now before we get seriously depressed.

"Wish I was an English muffin about to make the most out of a toaster..."