I'm all for comfort dressing. There's nothing better after a long day (/hour) at uni than chucking the outfit that took all morning to prepare in the washing basket and slipping into some PJs. It's practically a tradition in our house, you step through the door and into your trackies. Our lounge is littered with an assortment of blankets and pillows, duvet day is everyday. 
But I don't think I'm quite ready to embrace winter's latest weird and wonderful trend, Pyjamas.

Sure, we've already seen slouchy silk tops and harem trousers dominate the catwalk last season, but this is taking things a step further. This is a combination of barely-there slip dresses and matching printed tops and trousers. Loose-fit, of course. Underwear as outerwear is a thing of the past, fashionistas should be showing us what they wear in the bedroom, literally. Corsets are a lost relic, as is anything remotely figure-flattering. Androgyny has reached a whole new level.

(l-r BCBG Max Azria, Proenza Schouler, Karen Walker, D&G)

(Celine, Louis Vuitton)

Well designers, I'm sorry to disappoint but my house-mates and I have been rocking this style for years now. We pop down to Sainsburys on a weekly basis in our garishly-patterned, ill-fitting apparel, getting many a look of admiration (not disgust) from passers by. So all those months of head-scratching and frustrated sketching have gone to waste, your hot new trend has already been done to death. 

Seriously though, I can't see this style dominating the high-street any time soon, except in the nightwear departments. While I'm not adverse to a cheeky flannel button-down pajama-esque shirt, I certainly won't be donning a pair of trousers to match. Unless it's in the comfort of my own home. 

Note to Santa: Bring me some pretty, cosy pjs please. Preferably the Celine pair, but Marks & Spencer will do. 

Fluorescent Adolescent

It's really beginning to sink in that in a few short months university will be over, and a lifestyle of lazy days and takeaways will be replaced by the dreaded condition which all 'adults' eventually suffer from, a JOB. As the workload increases to terrifying levels, and the piles of books on my desk threaten to bury me in a small avalanche, there's a constant niggling thought bouncing around in the back of my mind. Although I try to drown it out with loud music, or make it forget what it's on about with alcohol, I'm reminded of it when that most dreaded of questions is asked, by lecturers or family members who think they're being kind by taking an interest but really you just want to vomit on their head in fear every time they ask it.
"So what are you going to do when you finish university?"


Reading this article on the Guardian website really doesn't do anything to encourage a positive attitude at the notion of entering the workplace. 

• Youth unemployment rate = 21.9%
• 1.02 million unemployed people age 16-24 between July and September of this year
• 1 in 5 young people out of work

That's more terrifying than any horror film I've ever watched. 

Certain members of the government are trying to lay the blame for this on the Eurozone crisis, but it's an issue which I've always been aware of, and acknowledged when I made the decision to go to into further education. I could have stayed at my job at Matalan, earned a full time wage and by now I could have saved enough dollar to consider moving out of my parent's house, or even learnt to drive (Yep, never had a lesson in my life. My rail card is my best friend). But I know from experiencing a summer of a full time retail career that while I may have been in a better position financially, I would almost certainly be suffering from crippling depression and on the verge of being institutionalised. Fair play to anyone who works in that field, but I always knew that it wasn't the profession for me. I kind of hate people, so working in a job serving them definitely doesn't suit me. Smiling literally pains me, it hurts my cheek muscles. Sure, journalism involves contact with people, but I wouldn't be paid to be nice to them. So I went to university, to get a degree in something I had always had a keen interest in and wanted as a vocation. 

I don't regret my decision, especially now that the fees are rising, I feel lucky to have received my education at the 'cheap' yearly rate of £3,225.  But all the negative press surrounding youth unemployment and university graduates who have top degrees yet can't even get a job stocking shelves in the supermarket, is thoroughly disheartening. Where are the success stories, where are the articles detailing the lives of graduates who have landed their dream jobs and are living the perfect lives? There must be some...surely?

The government complains about the number of young people on the dole, but then constantly barrage them with the news that there are no jobs and degrees have lost their value. That's not going to make anyone want to get out of bed and look for work, let alone someone my age. Getting out of bed is difficult enough before 3pm, let alone with the knowledge that today is just going to be one big waste of time, there's no point going to your lecture because everything you learn will be useless because you'll never get a bloody job. They may have work programmes and work experience 'schemes' (I always think this has such a sinister undertone, like an evil secret plot or something) which are apparently "significantly reducing the number of young people on benefits and out of work", but I know that myself or none of my friends want to spend another year without earning money - we actually want to work! The stereotypical view of students as being lazy and unwilling to get  a job is so untrue, everyone I know can't wait to actually have some money in their pocket to spend on something other than Asda Smartprice food or textbooks. We've done the education thing for a good 16 years now, we're ready to start injecting some money into our banks and diminishing those dreaded overdrafts. 

Who knows what will happen to us when May comes hurtling along and we hand in our FMP's, and visit uni for the very last time. I think that while many of us try to remain positive, it's a bleak picture that's being painted out there. While journalists are always going to be required, with the apparent death of print being on the horizon, and a growth in blogging and 'citizen journalism', what is the need for a degree, when anyone can boot up their laptop and publish their views for the whole world to see? Sure, you can argue that 'quality' journalists will always be required, those with writing experience, knowledge and credence, and while I do think that blogging is an excellent platform for developing writing skills and getting your content out there, it's a double-edged sword. 

It remains to be seen, watch this space. It will either be filled with tales of my employment success or a sad story of my weekly trips to the job centre. At least the walk up the hill to the high-street will keep me fit. Every cloud eh.

I apologise.

I've been a bad blogger. 
I could give you 101 quite valid excuses, but really my main problem has been a severe case of writer's block, mixed with a large heap of laziness and too much goddam uni work. Oh, and a dire lack of internet for many, many months, thanks very much to the idiots at Virgin for managing to Tweet me several times but being unable to perform the fairly simple task of booking an appointment to fix our bloody connection.Thankfully, saviour came in the form of a humble piece of post from Orange offering me cheap internet and free M&S vouchers. What's not to love. 

Anyway let me take a moment to ramble on about some of the more memorable events that have occurred in life since we last spoke. For your enjoyment, here they are in picture form:

1) I turned 21 on 17/09/11, and decided that the only way to celebrate this was to have Halloween early with a horror themed party. Any excuse to douse myself in fake blood. Also, I can pull off my natural 'deathly pale' look without being mistaken for an albino. Twas a marvellous evening, of which I remember everything. Until the Absynth came out. I only know what happened after this due to excruciatingly cringey video evidence.

2) I did the whole angel stint again, for the last time (sobs). Although this year's bunch of Freshers were surprisingly tame/lame I still managed to have a pretty good night, and I blagged about ten slices of Dominos and multiple free cocktails from the Fresher's fair ;)

3) 69 Morris Road has a new resident! :) Adding to the menagerie we have a kitty cat named Simba (homage to the re-release of The Lion King obvs). When this photo was taken he was such a cutie... all a distant memory now. While the face remains the same he has turned into a devious little bastard, who enjoys eating toes and dipping his whiskers into your beverage. While my fellow house-mates retain a fairly positive attitude about his relationship with the hamsters, I will not be surprised if one day we find a furry little corpse with a very smug looking Simba standing over it...

4) The legend that is Eveey P also turned the big 2-1, and her awesome theme was 'What did you want to be when you grew up?' She looked stunning as Audrey Hepburn, I of course could go as no one else but my all time favourite literary/film character Harry Potter. I had it all, Hedwig, wand, Firebolt and even the sword of Godric Gryffindor. Unfortunately, the Firebolt snapped in half, my wand went walkabouts, the sword was stolen and Hedwig, staying true to character, perished. However, this was due to my careless placement of her on a candle rather than catching a killing curse in the face. To add to the downright disaster of the evening, I managed to set fire to the cape I was wearing, which happened to be Eveey's brother's graduation robes...definitely not going to be invited back to the Petrusic house any time soon. Oh and I puked in their bush. Again, apologies Eve. And, perhaps worst of all, I dropped my most precious of possessions, my Blackberry, into a dustbin full of freezing cold water. GOOD times. Thankfully, the healing powers of rice (?! thank you google...) restored it to its former glory <3 Asides from all the mishaps, it was an awesome party. When there's a pool-house involved, how can it not be?

5) It was HALLOWEEN! To a creep-freak like me, the best holiday of the year. Bob and I decided to go all out and, being slightly obsessed with horror and everything that encompasses it, spent a night at Tulley's Farm Shocktober Fest. The number one Halloween attraction in the UK, it features a variety of different 'haunts' (mazes) designed to scare the...spirit out of you. Which it well and truly did, Bob was crying and shaking the whole time bless his little cottons. After staying in a fancy hotel for the night we went home and carved some pumpkins (Bob's on the left, mine on the right) and watched tons of scary films. Perfecto. On the actual night itself, although we technically didn't go out, me and Eve decided to paint our faces and run up and down the street 'scaring' people driving past. (l-r: Laura, skeleton face, Eve, dead...leopard lady, Me, dead child).

Annnnd I think that's about it. It may seem like I've been busy having the time of my life, but I can assure you, I have not. Life is horrible. These glimpses of fun were spread over the space of 2 1/2 months. The rest of the time I am a dead-eyed, grey-skinned shell of myself, suffering from a hideous condition which has ruined my social life and stripped my soul of any hint of fun or happiness. Uni has killed me. Freshers and Second Years, make the most of being alive while you can, it's all downhill from there. Nights out will be replaced with nights in clawing your hair out in front of your laptop, trips to town will be substituted by trips to the library. Life becomes a never-ending stream of hand-ins and late nights, free from alcohol of course. The government should be paying me for this.

Which leads me on to my awful lack of blogging. Understandable now I hope. 

And now for my ulterior motive. Shameless self-promotion.

The powers that be at uni have decided that it would be a brilliant idea for us to start a blog! Err...cool. Most of us already have one...well done. But due to ridiculous rules and regulations it has to be a totally new blog, and on Tumblr. Gag. I've just about managed to deal with making things work on here, why make me use a whole new website you swines?! It also has to have a particular theme, "something original, that is relevant and interesting". So, in a selfish bid to get myself some new hobbies, mine is focussed on the 'vintage lifestyle' i.e. a return to 'traditional' hobbies such as baking and sewing. It's going to have a whole mixture of things: how-to's, interviews, pictures, maybe even some cheeky videos if I can get over my technophobia and work out how to operate a video camera. It's something I am actually interested in (oh god, I sound so old and boring. To digress, I recently went deaf in one ear so I actually am fully living up to the granny stereotype these days) and also a bit of a dedication to the legend that is Debs, whose baking masterpieces have kept me and my friends abundant in sweet treats throughout my time at uni. 

So here's a little linky, there's no actual content on there yet but keep your eyes peeled. If you want to know how (not) to bake cakes then check it outttt.

http://diaryoftheyesterdaygirl.tumblr.com/

To close, a nice bit of aural pleasure for you all. I quite liked the original song, but after being directed to the Live Lounge version by Eveey P, I can't stop listening to it. Well, watching it. The old chap on the end of the choir looks like he's having the time of his life, getting his rapper moves on.

I predict you will enjoy...

The Other One

While everyone else's attention may be firmly fixed on a certain pregnant member of Destiny's Child (it's just a baby, it's not going to come out of the womb singing and/or rapping you overexcited fools) my focus has been on new X Factor judge Kelly Rowland.

Cheryl's designer clad feet have barely left the judging panel, and already Kelly is stealing her style crown - way before the live shows and the spectacular frocks. Her quirky and cool outfits combined with THE most shiny hair to have ever graced a television screen are a far cry from some of the tacky coordinated disasters that appeared in the DC days.





My favourite so far has been the yellow blazer ensemble, having a penchant for a nice bit of tailoring and a bright colour, it was a perfect example of relaxed, effortless style.

 
While I definitely won't be sporting the killer heels around campus, (or ever) and bare legs would get frostbite in this weather, this look could easily be adapted to suit the recent chillier climate with some black opaques. There's now less than a month until uni starts again and, being on a fashion course, sporting a stylish first-day-back outfit is about as essential as having a pen and paper. Adding another blazer to the collection will definitely be on my back-to-school agenda, especially with the ol' birthday coming up (I like money).

Anyone who buys me this necklace would have my eternal love and gratitude.

It's A Beijing Thing

So it's been a while since I've really thought about my impending trip to China at the beginning of next year. Although I am HUGELY excited about it, it's still not really sunk in yet. Maybe once I part with the remaining £798 it might become a bit more of a reality... Having only been on a plane once (making the not-so-lengthy journey to the exotic destination of Spain) it's going to be a bit of a shock to the system being in the air for nearly 12 hours. My sympathies go out to my friends and travel companions, who will have to put up with me jumping around like a five year old in the airport and oohing and aahing out of the window every ten minutes. If they're considering getting a nice little nap in on the plane, they can think again ;)

Anyway, I hadn't really given it much thought until I was reading this month's issue of Marie Claire. I was flicking through when I got to the 'Fashion Cities' feature. There were the usual suspects, London, New York and Milan, and then I came across a page which filled me with excitement. 

'China's Fashion Revolution. Walk down the street in Beijing and you'll more Pradas per paving stone than anywhere else in the world. Welcome to Fashion's newest capital.'

Of course, it's hard to have the mildest interest in fashion and not be aware that the East has always had a prominent influence on runways and designers across the globe. But it's usually Japan that is spreading its quirky and original concepts overseas, from the first designers bringing their innovative clothing to Paris in the late 80's, to the Harajuku girls of the streets of Tokyo becoming style icons and Gwen Stefani's new best friends. Now, China is pushing forward into the consciousness of the fashion world. Having had a little peek on Lookbook, it's clear to see why this is the case:

I'd better get saving for my spending money now...

Seoana xoxo

Now You See It...

Since McQueen launched his optical illusion dress in s/s 2009, other brands and designers have been creating garments that use colour and pattern to dazzle the senses. There's no need to sweat it out in the gym, or cut out all those carbs to achieve the perfect hourglass figure or knock off a few pounds, a cleverly designed dress can do it for you. We're not talking spandex panels or hidden corsets, using fabric in an intelligent way can trick the mind into seeing what is or isn't there. 

Kate Winslet recently stepped out in a figure-hugging Stella McCartney design, that emphasised her slim build and nipped her in in all the right places. 

She isn't the first celebrity to use this clever cheat though, as I have noticed:

(Apologies for the shocking cropping, since my Photoshop licence ran out it's been a constant battle with Paint to produce anything of a half-decent quality)

Although a designer dress may break the bank balance, it's still a cheaper and much less painful alternative to cosmetic surgery.

I haven't seen any high-street versions as of yet, but I'm sure it won't be long until they're offering us the perfect figure for under fifty quid.

Seoana xoxo

Colour My Life With The Chaos Of Trouble

After being alerted to this news story by my dad, and seeing as it coincided perfectly with today's events, I felt it was necessary to share it.

John Mosley raised £2,000 for charity by having this 'Where's Wally' themed tattoo of his home-town of Norwich across his back. It took a spine-tingling 24 hours to complete and features 150 different characters, including Darth Vader and a pair of Roman soldiers.

Having had my first tattoo a while ago, I'd been itching to get under the needle again. Yes, I may turn into a pale, quivering, nervous wreck when faced with having one tiny pin-prick for a blood test, but the idea of being stabbed with ink fills me with nothing but glee. Endless hours in front of the TV  have also led to a mild obsession with the 'Ink' TV series'; Miami Ink, LA Ink and London Ink, following the work of three tattoo studios and their artists. Watching people getting masterpieces etched across their bodies on a daily basis has only fuelled the need for more of my own, and having bribed my parents into funding any new additions in exchange for my cooperation in the doctor's surgery, I had settled on my designs and was ready for more of that pleasurable pain.

A quick trip to the tattoo studio to query an appointment led to me having not one but two more tats. Pictures will appear at some point, once the layer of bepanthen and cling film is removed. 

It's strange to think how socially acceptable tattoos have becomes in the last decade, everyone from teachers to pensioners are getting them these days. No longer restricted to the biceps of sailors, or making a statement across the pale skin of punks, it's as easy to get inked as it is to get a new hair cut or pierce your ears. It makes me wonder what the next step is for body modification. You can change the colour of your skin, and as Lady Gaga has recently demonstrated with her bizarre facial horns and shoulder implants, the shape of it. We can dye our hair, change the colour of our eyes, and alter any part of our body that we don't deem to be acceptable with plastic surgery. How long until we're having face transplants in our lunch break? With science and technology offering us more opportunities for change as the years tick by, will human's even appear as we know them in a hundred years time? 

I guess I won't be around to find out, so I can only imagine. A world full of Gaga-esque pointy-faced freaks? Maybe I'll be glad to be gone...

Seoana xoxo

You've Been Gone For Too Long

Well, this is strangely familiar.

My keyboard was once a dear friend to me, but now it has become an adversary, mocking me as I stare desperately at it trying to form words and sentences. The dark days of non-blogging have rendered me a writing dunce, with only a few measly ideas for posts floating around between my ears.

Virgin Media, I accuse you of murder - you have killed my blog. You swines. If any of you are seeking a reliable, helpful internet provider, DON'T go with Virgin. They'll swipe your money, lie to you, and leave you heartbroken and poor without even the faintest of internet signal to comfort you. 

So yes, since moving into my new house (69 Clunge Castle as it has been affectionately named by Laura) I have been stuck in a hideous internet-less existence. I could only weep as I had to accept the fact that I only had Sky TV and the friendly and familiar face of Noel Edmunds to keep me company. 

But anyway. Those days are behind me. After a fifty quid phone bill I have accepted that mine and Virgin's relationship is over. I'm moving on. Or, more accurately, going back to an old relationship, that of O2 and I. He never let me down, and he was cheap.

Soo... what's been occurring.

I moved house.

I got a 2:1 for second year.

I worked a disgusting amount. 

I went to V.

I had an anaphylactic shock after coming back from V, resulting in my face swelling to about three times the size of normal. 

After being pumped full of steroids and hiding away in my bedroom for a week, my face is restored to it's former glory(?) Now I'm being treated by the doctors surgery and the hospital to find out what the devil I'm allergic to. I've actually just returned from having a blood test, bleurgh. I may have had a tattoo no problem but having blood drained from my arm left me crying like a baby about to puke on the nice nurse. Being bribed with another tattoo courtesy of my rents did make it slightly more bearable though.

Enough of that, on to the fun things.

V was bloody awesome. Asides from a small and very sudden torrential downpour (thank you to the charging tent for supplying me and Alix with waterproof ponchos) the weather was perfeccct, and I saw everyone I was hoping to. For those of you with nothing better to do, they were:

Wretch 32, Aloe Blacc, Bruno Mars, Example, Jessie J, Tinie Tempah, Chase and Status, Ellie Goulding, Good Charlotte, Plan B, N Dubz, The Wombats, The Script, Rihanna & Eminem. 

For those of you who like visuals, here are some lovely images:

There were so many highlights, the whole thing was pretty much one big sunny highlight. Moments of particular joy were: the silent disco on Friday night (sweaty but awesome), Bruno Mars and Aloe Blacc's smooth moves, dancing (well, jumping) to Chase and Status covered in glow stick juice, Jessie J and her mini-me version, and of course - Rihanna and Eminem's duet. Oh, and sneaking booze in in my wellies was a personal triumph for me. 

So now summer seems to have pretty much wandered off to another continent, and there's only a (whole) month left until it's back to uni to start my third year. Gag. But in the meantime myself and everyone I know (baha) has the glorious event of my 21st birthday to look forward to. Fancy dress is mandatory, of course, with the horror theme specifying that all guests must have fake blood somewhere upon their persons to enter.

I'm going to go demand more sympathy from my mother, and start working on my costume ;) Top Secret except to a privileged few, of course.

Seoana xoxo

I Wanna Be Like You

"Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery"
This is the value my mum desperately tried to instil in me throughout my childhood, in a bid to stop me from punching my sister in the head as she relentlessly copied everything I did (sorry sis, but you know it's true. I was your inspiration.)

When it comes to this principle, I think there is definitely a line that can be drawn between replicating something you've seen and like, and downright originality theft.
If a friend went out and bought a top that they'd seen me wear, I wouldn't mind at all. In fact, I'd ask them why the heck they wasted their money when they could have just borrowed mine! Me and my group of friends unintentially copy each other on a daily basis, not just with our style but as far as our speech and mannerisms too. I always find myself saying phrases and words that I've picked up from my mates, that have subtlety entered my vocabulary until I'm sick of hearing them.

However, there is a point at which this notion becomes a huge pain, and you can feel your individuality being ripped away from you by a personality thief. Whilst aimlessly perusing the web today, I found a particularly bad case of this. The genius behind this year's best single, Swagger Jagger, seems to have a severe case of copycatitus.

During the X Factor, Cher Lloyd was often referred to as a 'mini Cheryl', as she was dressed up and given the big bouffant in the famous style of the pop princess.

And now it looks as though the *ahem* talented young superstar has found a new idol to imitate. As this lady changes her hair style more times than I wash mine, it must be pretty hard work to keep up, but so far Cher is doing a pretty successful job.

Also has a touch of the Jessie J about it too...

Ever heard of personal style Cher? No, clearly not. If you have a stylist, sack her, she's clearly just ripping of Ri Ri.

Being an international superstar I doubt Rihanna's too fussed, but I'm annoyed on behalf of her! How dare this talentless gypsy slut think she can pull it off! (Not a massive Cher Lloyd fan, you may guess)

Rihanna seems to be sticking with the red for the time being, while I think Cher Llyod has gone back to a more natural colour, and is working the ombre trend. Time will tell whether another rip-off occurs, perhaps next it'll be another star in the line for total image plagiarism. Perhaps Britney would be a more apt role model, being from a redneck community I'm sure Cher and her caravan roots will be able to identify...

xSx

Magick

There is no doubt where I would love to be right now. Not some hot, exotic country, lapping up the sunshine on a golden sandy beach, but right here in rainy Blighty. Trafalgur Square, to be precise, among the thousands of fans who have been camping for up to 10 days in eager anticipation of the premiere of the final Harry Potter film.

Harry's journey ends tonight (for the rest of us commoners, July 15th), and for die-hard fans like myself, it's more than just the end of a film series, it's the end of an era.

I got my first Harry Potter book for Christmas, when I was about 10. My nan had given me the first two in the series, and being a mega bookworm at that age I quickly finished them both within a few weeks. This was before the films had been comissioned, and before he was a household name and worldwide phenomenon. For me, it wasn't about following a craze, or reading them because everyone else was, it was love.

Given my unfortunate appearance and my parent's foolish mistake in letting me pick my own glasses, I had my very own pair of Potteresque frames that earned me the nickname 'Harriet Potter'. I woke up eagerly each day, convinced that my letter from Hogwarts would arrive on my doorstep, and I'd be able to join the adventures that I read about. I still think it must have got lost in the post...or that my parent's cruelly hid it from me, knowing that once I went I wouldn't want to come back.

I've read a lot of books in my life, from the Narnia chronicles to all the Jaqueline Wilson's, to sick horror and crime novels that would have some people questioning my mental wellbeing. But nothing else has had me eagerly turning each page, refusing to go to bed until I'd finished just one more chapter, like the Harry Potter books.

Although, as any true fan will tell you, the films aren't as good as the books, each one that's come out has been better than the last. I treasure each DVD, they sit lovingly besides the books, hidden from the grasp of fiends who might scratch a disk or bend a page corner. While it is impossible to captivate the magic of the written form, or include all the small details and extra bits that enhance the story, the screen version has brought Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, Privet Drive, and all the characters to life.

[If you hadn't read the books (shame on you, go punch yourself) then this may ruin the films for you.]

I've wept at numerous points throughout the series. I'm suprised the ink hasn't run right off the page in Deathly Hallows, I cried so much. I couldn't stem the flow of tears in the cinema, regardless of being in public and age 19 I wept like a baby when Dumbledore took his final tumble from the battlements of the castle. When Dobby died, I wanted to die myself. With the onslaught of deaths coming in Part 2, I seriously believe I may just pass away from sheer grief. People have reportedly died of heartbreak, so I really do fear for my health.

If I had a limitless flow of cash, or I won the lottery, I wouldn't be hitting the highstreet, or purchasing fancy cars and nice houses, my first act as a rich bitch would be to hop on a plane to Florida and visit live in The Wizarding World of Harry Potter. There, I could sip Butterbeers all day, and practice my wand skills to my heart's content.

Oh how I wish I was among that wet and weary crowd, dressed of course in full Gryffindor regalia. I will just have to make do with a Harry Potter marathon tonight, and finishing Deathly Hallows in preparation for the 15th. I plan on seeing the film at least three times...and then when the DVD comes out watching them all back to back with no sleep, allowing myself short breaks for use of toilet facilities and munching on chocolate frogs and all flavoured jelly beans.

Thank god for Pottermore, the website that JK Rowling is launching, to provide extra material not included in the books and to generally keep Harry Potter fans such as myself alive now that it's all coming to an end.

Now I'm going to get back to scouring the web for anything HP related, and watching the trailer on repeat until my eyes are so dry from crying that they shrivel up inside my head and turn to dust.

xSx