My latest, craziest night to date out here was a night of soup, guitar hero, and the new harry potter movie at a theatre that was
not near me. I also found out that I can't shoot pool worth shit unless I have at least one beer.
On the drive home at 2am there my windshield was covered in this amazing lattice of ice crystals. My eyes kept flickering from the background, the road (which was boring), to the foreground, the ice crystals (which were enchanting). Everytime I drove under a street light the cystals were set ablaze with light, mezmerizing me further and blocking those pesky road obstacles from my vision.
The movie was okay. The kids are all grown up now and are not nearly as cute. The orange haired kid (Weasle, or whatever his name is) was pouty and annoying. The effects were neat but nothing new. This (Goblet of Fire) was the last book in the series which I touched, and I got bored after reading about 50 pages. The film felt kind of the same. As new characters or plot twists were dragged onto the screen, I kept imagining the author, J.K. Rowling, tapping away at her laptop, smiling at her own fabulous wit. This sort of broke the spell, so to speak. It was still a well made movie, though, and definitely more aptly crafted for the screen.

Fourteen and feisty