HermAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Happy Birthday, Emma Watson! Today is your special day, and, guess what, it's Friday! Friday! GOTTA get down on Friday! I bet you're lookin' forward to the weekend. Weekend. As we all know, Emma Watson is a character that Hermoine Granger plays in real life. Hermoine is so smart. She has tricked several people into thinking that Emma Watson is her real personality. Well played, Hermy, well played. Still, I see straight through her clever disguise. Harry Potter is real and so are all of his friends. In order to celebrate your birthday, let us take a look back at some of your finest moments.

1. Remember that time turner you used? Not only did it help you remain a top-notch AP student, but you also helped save the hyppogriff and Sirius Black. Your dedication to your schoolwork is inspiring to many and raises the standards of those who get accepted into Hogwarts.

2. Wingardium leviosa? No, it's wingardium leviosAH.  HAHAHA. You're so funny. You pay such attention to detail that nothing gets by you. Now that you're another year older, let's hope that eyesight doesn't fade.

3. Who could forget all of the intimate and beautiful moments that you shared with Ronald Weasley? Well, i certainly didn't. Not even Lavender Brown could break you two apart. Ain't no love like a Ron-Hermoine love because a Ron-Hermoine love don't stop.

4. I know this is a list of your finest moments, but I would just like to address that weird, sexual scene in the seventh movie between you and Harry. Nah uh, not happenin'. You and Ronald are meant to be together. You have finally found a ginger that isn't crazy or a serial killer. Hold onto him and never let him go. You can name one of your kids Harry, I don't care, just keep the touching to a minimum. Thanks.

5. You punched Draco in the face! Alright, gurl! You were overworked, tired, and annoyed outta yo' mind. So, when he let his snippy little tongue run wild, you popped one right in the kisser. Looked like it hurt. Well played, Hermoine's fists of fury, well played. 

So, there's your life in a nutshell. Now that you are 21, don't go too crazy! There's only so much butterbeer in the world, start off slow.

There Ain't No Cursin' Durin' Rehearsin'

I am in a new musical. This production is entitled, "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.' And guess what! It's actually really funny. When we did our read-through in February, I hadn't expected the script to actually make me laugh as much as it did. Well played, script...well played. Anyway, the rehearsal process has been rather vigorous lately. We started off in early march learning choreography. There are a few numbers (one in particular) that have a lot of dancing in them. While it isn't the hardest stuff in the world, and dance is somewhat difficult for me. Then we did a few one-on-one vocal rehearsals and we began blocking the show.

Blocking was a monotonous process, because you need to write down everywhere you go and develop reasons for why you are moving there. I realize that it helps quite a lot to have a purpose and to know where to go and when, but at the time it felt like it was just going to change anyway. Now, though, we are in the process of focusing on more of the acting now that we have the basic foundation covered. I had a bit of trouble with memorization in the beginning, but now that we have run through everything, it is coming along quite well.

My character, Pseudelous, is a slave to one of the rich family's in Ancient Greece, the house of Senex. Senex's son, Hero, falls in love with a beautiful virgin courtesan, but she has been sold to the great captain, Miles Gloriosus. My character attempts to bring the two lovers together by weaving a twisted tale of lies and disguises. Just as the opening song says, it truly is a comedy tonight. As far as acting goes, I have decided to play my character with a bit of variety. On the page, he appears to be a witty, outspoken character, but as a slave I picture him being only outspoken to certain people. For example, he would speak to his master, Hero, with his arms folded across his body and arched over to look up at him. Whereas, when speaking to Marcus Lycus, the owner of the courtesans (who thinks that Pseudelous is free), he would stand straight and speak in a relaxed manner. 

The show goes up on April 27th for the world to see. It is coming up quite fast! I am sure that we will be ready. Rehearsals have been really great for the past few weeks and the show is only getting stronger. I hope everyone enjoys it....or else.

For Every Jim/Pam, there is a Grandma/Rudolph

Some people call me a sea urchin of desire. I'm not sure why but I am pretty sure it had something to do with my dashing good looks, incredible talent, and my amazing ability to woo my prey with a toss of the hair. Now, I know you are thinking, who is this Justin Beiber-like character and why is he telling me all of these outstanding things about himself. He's so cool! I wish I were as nice, funny, and charming as he is! Well, that's what I am here to address. To all those that pine over me, you should know that I will not accept you as a blossoming romance if we work together. Office relationships are the quickest way to having your heart broken, a pie in your face, and twelve laughing girls pointing their snooty fingernails at you saying, "You should quit!"

That's the first thing about sweet, sweet love in the workplace. It will get you fired or force you to quit. My grandma said she once worked with a man at a local farmer's market. They would work real close together and one day they were suddenly an item. When my grandma found out that her boyfriend, Randolph, had also been seeing Margaret, Jan, and Phillice, well....let's just say Randolph was the one who got run over by Grandma that Christmas eve. Anyway, the point is that my grandma felt she had to quit because she couldn't handle being around Randolph (who has, personally, never been one of my favorite reindeer of the sleigh). Another big possibility is being fired. Let's say your girlfriend, Liza, is actually a prostitute and you find out during the middle of shift. You are going to walk right up to Liza and ask, "Are you a prostitute?" Well, it turns out that she wasn't a prostitute. That was Lisa. Well, Liza responds by hitting you repeatedly with the statue of Jesus she keeps in her purse. Your manager witnesses this commotion and promptly fires both of you. Soon, you become a prostitute to pay the bills.

There are just two simple results of office romances: quitting or being fired. Not everyone turns out like Jim and Pam from 'The Office". Instead, you could end up like Kevin or Creed (alone and creepy). Although I love my Kevin coffee mug, I wouldn't consider his life a road I would be willing to go down. Heed thine warning, mortals! If you do not obey the law of never having an office relationship, you will be cursed forever to listen to Rebecca Black's "Friday" for the rest of your lives!

How to Succeed at Hogwarts Without Using Unforgivable Curses

I saw him. I was so close to him that had he spit in an upwards direction and there had been a good, solid wind, his loogie would have hit me in the face. He was everything I had ever dreamed of. He was epic. He was magical. He was...short. He was HARRY POTTER. I can feel the jealousy of anyone who reads this seeping through the blog. I would be jealous, too, had it been someone other than myself. What is strange is that I didn't run into him at Hogwarts, or spy him at Diagon Alley, or even catch the same train at Platform 9.75, instead, I saw him in a Broadway musical. Harry Potter was playing Daniel Radcliffe playing J. Pierrepont Finch in "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying."

The trip to New York was a part of our school's choir program, so we had to go see a Broadway musical. One word got out that Harry Potter was performing, the tickets were booked. I waited anxiously outside. Next to his big, shiny face on all of the posters, i got plenty of pictures taken. We had great seats on the second balcony which only made the anticipation that much greater. The first sighting of His Greatness came when he was lowered down from the ceiling in the opening number. He was there!! The screams were obnoxiously loud and I wanted so badly to just jump out off the balcony and steal him, but i knew that without my Firebolt it was suicide.

The musical was great. Harry Potter, though he didn't have the greatest voice, acted the piece beautifully and was hilarious. The most impressive part, to me, was the company. Their dancing was spot on and whenever singing was required, they always sounded full and supported. Still, most of the time I found it difficult to unglue my eyes from the tiny, little magic man on stage. Dumbledore would have been so proud if he could have seen this moment.

The most disappointing part came once the show was over. The standing ovation had died down and people had begun to pile out into the streets. Outside, a van had been blocked off and everyone knew it was Harry Potter's. We waited patiently on the other side of the street and refused to leave until a glimpse of the Boy Wonder was achieved. Eventually, a bus pulled up and parked itself firmly in our way. Despite our loud chants of, "Move that bus!" it didn't move for quite some time. We had to leave. Our efforts were noble and courageous, but unfortunately no one got to meet him. Still, I will always remember that day as the day I saw the greatest boy-wizard of all-time.

These Eagles bear a Striking Resemblance to the Simpsons

These last few days have been somewhat hectic. With work, the musical, and homework, I am a little bit low on my recreational requirements. So, for entertainment, what do I do? I grab a bowl of popcorn and I creep on some eagles. A pair of eagles has nested in Decorah, IA and let me tell you, it has been quite exciting. Even now, I watch as the mother guards her egg from invaders. There used to be three eggs, but the miracle of life has worked its magic on two of them already.

From what I have observed, the father and mother have a very...complicated...relationship. Margaret (the name I have given the mother, sometime shortened to Marge) is very good at sitting down. Not only is the form that she uses excellent (a series of complicated shuffles and shimmies), but she also manages to stay graceful even in the most mundane of moments. Homer (the father), on the other hand, seems to be somewhat of the opposite. An old, indecisive bird, Homer can leave the nest for hours at a time and return later with nothing but a dead, bloody rat. What was he doing all that time? Hmm? Homer wasn't even there when his own children were born (Bart and Lisa). Their births were magical. Sure, Marge blocked most of the hatching with her big butt, but we still got to see the finished product. On the way is another baby eaglet i assume will be named Maggie.

The eagles are apparently being observed as something referred to as the Raptor Resource. Hopefully the title of the initiative doesn't reveal true Jurassic Park-tendencies. The live feed I am watching right now comes directly from their website. The camera is a little fuzzy and every gust of wind sounds like a shattering earthquake, but the birds are clearly visible. If you like a good nature show or a bit of family drama, I suggest checking it out.
Website: http://www.raptorresource.org/falcon_cams/index.html

The Name's Shaney.....SlimShaney...

Night is a lonely period. Filled with smokers and binge drinkers, I often find that the store is a peaceful place where I can be alone with my thoughts and the cash register. Sometimes, when I am working nights I will think to myself, "What would happen if I was the only person in the store when something devastating happened?" Here's the story I concocted:

SlimShaney was an artsy, good looking kid who had grown up on the streets of Redar Capids (I've obviously changed the city to protect my identity). Five years ago, he had been recruited by the FBI and trained in all things martial arts related. He could count on seven hands the number of people he's killed if each of his seven hands had seven fingers because of a birth defect. Sadly, he didn't have seven hands with seven fingers each, so he had to settle for counting the number in his head. He had run off from the FBI two years ago and was now working in a local grocery store called Freddy's. No one had ever found him....until now.

It was a quiet, dark night and the wind hissed like an angry cat who had just been dropped in a bucket of water. A man walked into the store wearing a black trenchcoat and dark hat that covered his eyes. He immediately went to SlimShaney's register and grabbed some gum. "This all for ya' tonight, sir?" Slimshaney asked with the politeness of three hundred British butlers. "I guess there's one more thing you could do for me....you could DIE!" The man pulled out a machine gun from his oversized trenchcoat and fired away at SlimShaney, but he was too fast. SS threw the gum straight at the man's eye and ran for customer service. The assassin grasped at his eye in agony. "Butt-Whooping to Customer Service please," SS called out over the intercom.

Luckily, there was a bag of flour in the Go-Back section. SS took the flour and threw it everywhere. He ran straight for the man who was trying to kill him. How brave! The next five minutes, the two men engaged in an intense karate battle that could have been featured in some sort of Jackie Chan vs. Godzilla battle movie. Eventually, they ended up in aisle five (the one with all the cereal). The two exchanged puns like world-class punmakers. "I'm gonna Crunch-a-Tize you, captain! I'm more than good....I'm great! They're always after me lucky arms!" Making their way into the parking lot, SS grabbed a cart and pushed it around the white lines. The assassin had obviously been in this situation before, because he pushed his cart like an expert. Still, SS being 8-time employee of the month knew his way around the parking lot. He cornered the man next to the salt bags. There, SlimShaney had placed a bomb in case anything like this ever happened. The assassin was startled when SS began running away from the salt bags and took a moment to bask in his glory. SS had just enough time for one witty pun: "Salt and Pepper? More like Salt and Bombs." Not his best one, but it worked. The bags of slat exploded in a fiery-

Then it was ten. My shift was over. I left. 

How I Learned that Beards are Stupid...

Three beards for the three homeless men that live under the bridge.
Seven for the struggling writers who seem to be writing their dissertations for quite a long time...
Nine for the Mortal Men who think beards make them look "cool" and "sophisticated.
One for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his snake.
In the land of No-Shaving where the five o'clock shadows lie.
One beard to rule them all. One beard to find them.
One beard to grow forever and in the morning, shave them.
In the Land of Hogwarts where the Wizards lie.

This beard belongs to a man of pure beauty. A man who defies boundaries and pushes limits. A man that doesn't have to prove himself. This man is none other than the great Albus Dumbledore. His flowing, luxurious white beard hangs down from his face like a monkey hangs gracefully from a tree branch (except, in this case, Dumbledore's beard is well picked and free of bugs).

I, SlimShaney, once tried to grow out a beard. It was....unsuccessful. I figured that I would grow out a goatee. Once it had grown long enough, I noticed that goats were following me everywhere! I tried to run, but their leader, Ba-Ba Black Goat, cornered me in a dark alleyway. He told me, if I didn't shave off my goatee, they would have to do it for me. I panicked. What was I to do? I couldn't shave off my goatee! I loved it! So, I did the only thing I could think of, I used magic. I cast a spell that made my beard invisible to the human/goat eye. The next day, the goats came to my house. "Where's your beard?" said Ba-Ba Black Goat. "I shaved it off. I'm done with facial hair." They didn't believe me. Black Goat grabbed my face and felt that I still had my goatee. He ran to the kitchen and grabbed my mother. He put his mouth up to her neck and said, "If you don't shave off that beard, I'm going to bite her. Rabies ain't somethin' you wanna mess with, kid." Again, I did the only thing I knew how to do. I pulled out my wand, cast a deadly spell, and suddenly, guts were flying everywhere! I narrowly dodged the tongue of one of the goats as it raced past my head. My mother was soaked in goat blood. We embraced in our slimy, putrid clothes and began to collect the shattered remains of the goats I had killed. That night, as we sat around the table, thinking about what had happened, I asked my mom, "Do you like my goatee?" She merely shoved some goat meat in her mouth and said, "No."

And that is why beards are stupid.