WWeellll,,  tthhiiss  iiss  nnoott  ggooiinngg  ttoo  wwoorrkk  aatt  aallll!!

Well, okay, that works.  Another copy and paste job from WordPad.

Aside from one brief terrible stretch of actual deathmarchery where we had to get from Harry Potter’s wild world of magical mysterious mysticism or whatever to the front of Universal in 30 minutes and we marched on my stumped feet until I wasn’t entirely sure if I could feel them or move them or if I was going to die from the heat or running or whatever.  But, spoiler alert, I did not die and now we’re here in the hotel room.  I’ve had a smidge of a margarita , some Chinese food, and we’ve got Harry Potter’s musical on again and I’m just having a good day.

Tragically, happily, that typical mixture of emotions that is stirred up in me when a vacation is over is surging in me now.  I am completely grateful that I am happy that I am missing my friends already and the happy memories versus being giddy about getting back to reality.  That will come far too soon.  Tomorrow we will invent adventures at the airport before all our flights come and separate us once again. At least until next year, or maybe sooner if I can get a few things figured out.

But yes, I’ve had a butterbeer.  And it is amazing.  It is glorious.  It is frozen cream soda and marshmellow and other shit and it is candy and crack cocaine and I’m totally glad that I have no access to have that on a regular basis because I’m pretty sure that I would die from being strung out on it.  We ate it with Shepherd’s Pie in the Three Broomsticks and it was actually one of my favorite moments this week.

Harry Potter World. I’ve been in Hogwarts and saw Dawn French in the portrait, though I didn’t go on the ride through it because I am sane and sensible and prefer to make eyes at the Gryffindor random door guard guy who was hilariously too cool for school. Ahem. Both cool and silly and strange all at once. There’s this certain part of my heart that is bound up in the magical, mystical worlds one finds in books even if Harry Potter was never my opiate of choice.

There were other delightful things that happened, too, though, not just Harry Potter-wise. Getting our picture with Spiderman today and he seemed like a cool guy. This is so poorly written. All seven of us were there and we sort of bad boyband posed and he asked how we all got together as a group and the consensus was “magic.” And I got my sister some things and I got a few things for everyone (I think, I tried to, anyway).
Okay, so I kind of need to pack and get myself in some kind of order. Tomorrow’s basically shot with travelling and being at the airport so I may provide you, dear readers, with some airport missive roundup type post that I hope will not be written like a race but instead help me parse my own memories and get everything down that I want to say in one spot. So, farewell!