Me in the comics!

i am really enjoying the photo booth.. it's my favorite form of pro
cras
tin
nation.

me in the comics.

maybe that's what I should do for the rest of my life.

learn to kick butt and start a new character that dishes out vigilante justice... only problem is that i actually dont like breaking the law. its a weird ocd thing i think. i think thats the attraction for working within the system for me--maybe i should look into covert ops ;)
if i wasn't convinced that my career would get screwed because they wouldnt let me advance within the system with being a brown muslim and all u know might actually have gone for it.. well that and the fact that I cant see myself taking a life--slight problem in the covert ops issues... anyway, right now im not thrilled with the politics of it all anyway--maybe i should just learn to kick box first--and get into shape. hahah baby steps right. okay back to cleaning the kitchen ;)

Discovering the photo booth

I now know why stinky has so many pictures of herself. the photo booth is so addictive!!! i havent figured out how to do the series stuff but I have managed to take a few pictures in London--okay so theyre all me and all in my room.

Oh maybe i take one now?

hmm okay i dont know why it doesnt want to work... but here are some from before.

Rain Writing

As I sit here waiting for midnight--or rather 22:30 so I can call my mom and then head out for the pottermania at midnight, I figured I might as well do something constructive.. so i turn to bloggin. And don't worry, it wont be another potterpost.

It was freakish in London again today--weatherwise. I slept in and woke up to gloomy skies and light rain. After a slight mishap with setting my phone come alarm clock, I jolted out of bed at about 10:30 with the realization that there was no way it could still be midnight—especially since I went to bed at 2 am! In any event, I got up and headed out to work feeling happy despite the gray gloomy sky and light rain… I started working, then decided the day was better spent procrastinating and looking for tickets for next week. I could have left and taken the day off officially, seeing as there were all of 4 people at work today, but by this point the rain was hammering down and I figured I might as well try and sort out some issues. So I worked. And facebooked and worked some more. Eventually, just past noon, the murkiness gave way to golden sun filled brilliance. Every cloud was gone, and the only sign of the torrential downpour were pockets of puddles and wet, windswept hair. Of course that meant going out for a long lunch walk—out towards Planet Organic for the amazing organic sobu noodles with mushrooms and sun dried tomatoes. Yummy. At about 5 when I realized the afternoon sun was really here to stay and not just taunt us, I decided I was done for the day and took a long walk out to the mac store at oxford circus then down the street towards marble arch to head up edgeware for a café Helen shawarma. I took one bite, luckily with my headphones off, and my phone rang—it was my mommy! For some reason she couldn’t really talk then but she wanted to talk to me when I was at home—so here we are, as I wait (another 3 minutes) so I can call here from home… Anyway, that’s when I decided perhaps the plan of sitting around edgeware alone and smoking sheesha wouldn’t happen and I would get home, getting groceries on the way, eat dinner, call and then get over to cue at the gower street waterstones for my copy of harry… I can’t believe it’s the last one. But wait.. bfore I go off on harry—though I wont since I promised I wouldn’t, I wanted to wrap up the weather weirdness. Since the rain is once again come down in light sheets outside, soaking all the little dressed up wizards and muggles alike (ok ok.. the closer to midnight it gets, the more it comes up naturally!) where were we? Oh right the weather, yea so its back to the light drizzle, which is very London I suppose. It’s just hard to figure out how to dress for it. And yes, I just wrote an entire entry on the weather. But only because it really is freakish out here in London.

Countdown to Harry...

The world of Harry Potter is a place where the mundane and the marvelous, the ordinary and the surreal coexist. It’s a place where cars can fly and owls can deliver the mail, a place where paintings talk and a mirror reflects people’s innermost desires. NY Times

Waterstones, here in London has a children's version that has a different cover. I'll probably publish that here once I start reading my copy tomorrow. I do think this artwork is better (hence I'll be getting a copy in the States still)

appie and bf came!

oh so clearly i stopped posting.. but appie's here! bf's here.. and now they're gone. (yea we pretend like i was interrupted in my writings) anyway, it was a whirlwind sister reunion, after my quick trip out to granada... a lot of stuff... will write more later.. just wanted to get the appie pic out sooner rather than later... that is before z rubs in the fact that i havent written about appie coming! ;)

Stinky's Coming!!! Stinky's Coming!!!

This is one of my favorite me and stinky shots in london... okay not that i look good or anything--though i think z does--but it was our random fun poser shot in the middle of leicester square. AND all we did that trip was put on lip balm and oh have me carry that brown bag everywhere with tons of crap in it! i also like the building behind us--the white-ish one. sadly its actually been converted into a starbucks on the ground floor. oh we're also standing in front of the theater that premiered Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix for europe just a few days ago (see earlier post for funy harry moments).

Actually I have another favorite stinky and me moment... but i dunno if we can put both on here... hmm lets try. Oh look it works!!!!

Ok so this is us on the Westminster bridge--i think--with the eye and i think the aquarium etc behind us. There's a nice book market just east of the area you can see that I went to, or rather bumped into, last weekend. Tons of old and rare books. Oh and a little further out theres the OXO stores--some of their things actually looked really cool. I'm actually heading out that way again today--well not the Oxo area but the westminster lambeth bridge area. It's beautiful out right now--after DAYS of raining and nasty cold weather.. so i should probably head out before the capricious london weather god decides to shart spittin on the city again. Well, anyway, this is more of a celebration post since stinky finally bought her ticket and should be here tomorrow!!! :) Appie dont worry, i start posting about ur trip soon too... i just dont have any pics of you since my comp crashed--oh no wait! i do. so stay tuned for the next one.

the babies and the babas..

guess who's who. heheheh

eat, pray, love

An exerpt from the book "eat, pray, love."

Sometimes I wonder what I'm doing here, I admit it.

While I have come to Italy in order to experience pleasure, during the first few weeks I was here, I felt a bit of a panic as to how one should do that. Frankly, pure pleasure is not my cultural paradigm. I come from a long line of superconscientious people...We were taught to be dependable, responsible, the top of our classes at school, the most organized and efficient babysitters in town, the very miniature models of our hardworking farmer/nurse of a mother, a pair of junior Swiss Army knives, born to multitask...

Generally speaking, though, Americans have an inability to relax into sheer pleasure. Ours is an entertainment-seeking nation, but not necessarily a pleasure-seeking one. Americans spend billions to keep themselves amused with everything from porn to theme parks to wars, but that's not exactly the same thing as quiet enjoyment. Americans work harder and longer and more stressful hours than anyone in the world today. But as Luca Spaghetti pointed out, we seem to like it. Alarming statistics back this observation up, showing that many Americans feel more happy and fulfilled in their offices than they do in their own homes. Of course, we all inevitably work too hard, then we get burned out and have to spend the whole weekend in our pajamas, eating cereal straight out of the box and staring at the TV in a mild coma (which is the opposite of working, yes, but not exactly the same thing as pleasure). Americans don't really know how to do nothing. This is the cause of that great sad American stereotype- the overstressed executive who goes on vacation, but who cannot relax.

I once asked Luca Spaghetti if Italians on vacation have the same problem. He laughed so hard he almost drove his motorbike into a fountain. "Oh, no!" he said. "We are the masters of il bel far niente." This is a sweet expression. Il bel far niente means "the beauty of doing nothing."...il bel far niente has always been a cherished Italian ideal. The beauty of doing nothing is the goal of all your work, the final accomplishment for which you are most highly congratulated. The more exquisitely and delightfully you can do nothing, the higher your life's achievement. You don't necessarily need to be rich in order to experience this, either. There's another wonderful Italian expression: l'arte d'arrangiarsi- the art of making something out of nothing. The art of turning a few simple ingredients into a feast, or a few gathered friends into a festival. Anyone with a talent for happiness can do this, not only the rich.

For me, though, a major obstacle in my pursuit of pleasure was my ingrained sense of Puritan guilt. Do I really deserve this pleasure? This is very American, too- the insecurity about whether we have earned our happiness. Planet Advertising in America orbits completely around the need to convince the consumer that yes, you have actually warranted a special treat. This Bud's for You! You Deserve a Break Today! Because You're Worth It!...Such advertising campaigns would probably not be as effective in the Italian culture, where people already know that they are entitled to enjoyment in this life. The reply in Italy to "You Deserve a Break Today" would probably be, Yeah, no duh. That's why I'm planning on taking a break at noon, to go over to your house and sleep with your wife.

Which is probably why, when I told my Italian friends that I'd come to their country in order to experience four months of pure pleasure, they didn't have any hang-ups about it. Complimenti! Vai avanti! Congratulations, they would say. Go ahead. Knock yourself out. Be our guest. Nobody once said, "How completely irresponsible of you," or "What a self-indulgent luxury." But while the Italians have given me full permission to enjoy myself, I still can't quite let go. During my first few weeks in Italy, all my Protestant synapses were zinging in distress, looking for a task. I wanted to take on pleasure like a homework assignment, or a giant science fair project. I pondered such questions as, "How is pleasure most efficiently maximized?" I wondered if maybe I should spend all my time in Italy in the library, doing research on the history of pleasure. Or maybe I should interview Italians who've experienced alot of pleasure in their lives, asking them what their pleasures feel like, and then writing a report on this topic. (Double-spaced and with one-inch margins, perhaps? To be turned in first thing Monday morning?)

When I realized that the only question at hand was, "How do I define pleasure" and that I was truly in a country where people would permit me to explore that question freely, everything changed. Everything became...delicious. All I had to do was ask myself every day, for the first time in my life, "What would you enjoy doing today, Liz? What would bring you pleasure right now?"...

It was interesting for me to discover what I did not want to do in Italy, once I'd given myself executive authorization to enjoy my experience there. There are so many manifestations of pleasure in Italy, and I didn't have time to sample them all. You have to kind of declare a pleasure major here, or you'll get overwhelmed...I found that all I really wanted was to eat beautiful food and speak as much beautiful Italian as possible. That was it. So I declared a double major, really- in speaking and in eating (with a concentration on gelato)...

Elizabeth Gilbert
Eat, Pray, Love

Divorce Iranian Style

So I wrote this whole long post about the picture and people in it.. and then the stupid blogger thing ate it. grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr so here's the short version:

Left to right: armin, neda, nisrine, me, dan, aphrodite (with sergey taking the photo) at the end of the reception after the showing of Divorce Iranian Style.

Friedman Op-Ed

July 4, 2007
Op-Ed Columnist
At a Theater Near You ...
By THOMAS L. FRIEDMAN


London

I knew something was up when I couldn't get a cab. Then there were
sirens and helicopters whirring overhead. I stopped a passerby to ask
what was going on. He said something about a car bomb outside a disco
six blocks from my hotel. A few hours later, I finally found a taxi.
The driver warned me that it was nearly impossible to get across town.
Another bomb had been uncovered in a car park. Next day, more news: a
suicide bomber had driven his Jeep into an airport and jumped out, his
body on fire, screaming "Allah! Allah!"

Where was I? Baghdad? Kabul? Tel Aviv? No, I was in England. But it
could have been anywhere. The Middle East: Now playing at a theater
near you.

But this movie gets more confusing every time you watch it. When you
watched it on 9/11 it was about America's presence in the heart of
Arabia. And when you watched it on 7/7 it was about unemployed and
alienated Muslim youth in Britain. In Jordan not long ago it was about
a wedding at a Western hotel. In Morocco recently it was about an
Internet cafe. And two days ago in Yemen it was about seven Spanish
tourists who were killed when a suicide bomber drove into them at a
local tourist site. Wasn't Spain the country that quit Iraq to get its
people out of the line of fire?

Because these incidents are scattered, we're growing numb to just how
crazy they are. In the past few years, hundreds of Muslims have
committed suicide amid innocent civilians -- without making any
concrete political demands and without generating any vigorous,
sustained condemnation in the Muslim world.

Two trends are at work here: humiliation and atomization. Islam's
self-identity is that it is the most perfect and complete expression
of God's monotheistic message, and the Koran is God's last and most
perfect word. To put it another way, young Muslims are raised on the
view that Islam is God 3.0. Christianity is God 2.0. Judaism is God
1.0. And Hinduism and all others are God 0.0.

One of the factors driving Muslim males, particularly educated ones,
into these acts of extreme, expressive violence is that while they
were taught that they have the most perfect and complete operating
system, every day they're confronted with the reality that people
living by God 2.0., God 1.0 and God 0.0 are generally living much more
prosperously, powerfully and democratically than those living under
Islam. This creates a real dissonance and humiliation. How could this
be? Who did this to us? The Crusaders! The Jews! The West! It can
never be something that they failed to learn, adapt to or build. This
humiliation produces a lashing out.

In the old days, you needed a terror infrastructure with bases in
Beirut or Afghanistan to lash out in a big way. Not anymore. Now all
you need is the virtual Afghanistan -- the Internet and a few
cellphones -- to recruit, indoctrinate, plan and execute. Hence, the
atomization -- little terror groups sprouting everywhere. Everyone now
has a starter kit.

Gen. Michael Hayden, the C.I.A. director, recently noted in a speech
that during the cold war "the enemy was easy to find, but hard to
finish," because the Soviet Union was so big and powerful.
"Intelligence was important" back then, he added, "but it was
overshadowed by the need for sheer firepower."

In today's war against terrorist groups, said General Hayden, "it's
just the opposite. Our enemy is easy to finish, but hard to find.
Today, we are looking for individuals or small groups planning suicide
bombings, running violent Jihadist Web sites, sending foreign fighters
into Iraq."

I'd go one step further. The Soviet Union was easy to find and hard to
kill, but once it died, it was dead forever. It had no regenerative
power because it had no popular base. The terrorists of Iraq or London
are hard to find, easy to kill, but very difficult to eliminate. New
recruits just keep sprouting.

Of course, not all Muslims are terrorists. But it's been widely noted
that virtually all suicide terrorists today are Muslims. Angry
Norwegians aren't doing this -- nor are starving Africans or unemployed
Mexicans. Muslims have got to understand that a death cult has taken
root in the bosom of their religion, feeding off it like a cancerous
tumor.

This cancer is erasing basic norms of civilization. In Iraq, we've
seen suicide bombers blow up funerals and schools. In England, seven
out of the eight people detained in the latest plot are Muslim doctors
or medical students. Doctors plotting mass murder? Could that be? If
Muslim leaders don't remove this cancer -- and only they can -- it will
spread, tainting innocent Muslims and poisoning their relations with
each other and the world.

Great News: Johnston released...and Hamas upholding rule of law...

Heard him speak this morning on TV--looking a bit thin but generally good Johnston was released after 114 days. Hamas was getting credit for essentially bring law back to the region after the chaos the last several days... funny how we haven't heard the international political community talk about this directly. Isn't this what we want. A political entity that actually upholds the rule of law and works hard against international terrorists....
obviously im not saying there aren't other issues, but if we don't recognize the good and comment on it explicitly, things will be harder to change.

anyway here's the article from BBC:



Hamas role in Johnston's release
By Martin Asser BBC News
Looking thinner and a little older, but with his characteristic self-effacing grin visible through the scrum of Hamas gunmen and journalists, Alan Johnston emerged from the mortal danger of his abduction.
The BBC correspondent was freed after 16 weeks of imprisonment in the Sabra neighbourhood of Gaza city, held by members of a much-feared family known for lawless behaviour with a dash of extremist Islam.
In the words of their captive, they were not interested in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, they wanted to target Britain in the name of a global holy war.
Alan quickly gave a series of press statements, showing incredible professionalism after such an ordeal.
He disclosed how he had been held by the only group in Gaza thought to have a Jihadist character, and who were capable of doing the unthinkable to their captive.
It was like being buried alive. I felt removed from world. It was occasionally terrifying, being held by people who were dangerous and unpredictable Alan Johnston
"On the first day the leader of the group came in and told me I would not be killed or tortured," he told BBC television.
But soon afterwards he said he was hooded and handcuffed and dragged out into the night by his captors, an experience which raised fears which stayed with him for the rest of his incarceration.
"It was like being buried alive. I felt removed from world. It was occasionally terrifying, being held by people who were dangerous and unpredictable," he said.
Splinter group
Alan Johnston did not name his captors, though he clearly knew who they were.
The family is called the Dogmush, and the branch of the clan which held him styled itself as the "Army of Islam", under the command of Mumtaz Dogmush.
This tiny armed faction had in the past thrown its lot in with Hamas, the radical Islamist movement which won power in Palestinian parliament elections in 2006 beating its rivals, the secular nationalist Fatah movement.
ARMY OF ISLAM FACTS
Small, Islamist armed group operating in Gaza
Splinter group of the Popular Resistance Committees
Seeks liberation of Palestine and an Islamic state
Influenced by, but not affiliated with, al-Qaeda
Led by Mumtaz Dugmush, also known as Abu Muhammad, a member of a powerful clan
One of three groups allegedly holding captured Israeli soldier Cpl Gilad Shalit
But when the Army of Islam captured Alan, it was at loggerheads with both groups.
It appeared to be taking advantage of the massive upheaval that eventually saw Hamas take-over Gaza by force from pro-Fatah Palestinian Authority security forces in mid-June 2007.
There seemed to be nothing that the warring factions could do to free Alan, despite a world-wide campaign to put pressure on the Gaza authorities to achieve this aim.
Fortunately for Alan, when Hamas took control in Gaza the rules of the game changed.
Hamas's priority is to restore law and order to the Gaza Strip, and one the first items on that agenda was to get Alan Johnston freed.
The group's Executive Forces, a kind of irregular police force in Gaza, and its military wing, the Izzedine al-Qassam Brigades, deployed in the Dogmush neighbourhood.
It is a relief all round that the pro-Hamas forces did not resort to a military solution, which could have endangered the lives of Alan Johnston, as well as captors, rescuers and bystanders
Up to five members of the clan were detained in the last few days. There are reports that water and electricity were cut off in some streets.
Calls also came from senior members of the family from different branches to free Alan.
It is a relief all round that the pro-Hamas forces did not resort to a military solution, which could have endangered the lives of Alan Johnston, as well as captors, rescuers and bystanders.
The captors were clearly afraid of such a possibility. At one point they dressed Alan in what appeared to be an explosives belt, of the type used by suicide bombers, which they said would be detonated if they were attacked.
Friend
The final details of Alan's release have not been made clear.
At his right-hand side when he came out of a building that presumably had been where he was handed over was his friend and BBC Gaza bureau colleague Fayed Abu Shammala.
Fayed and a group of Hamas gunmen guided Alan through the throng to a car, and they drove straight to the house of former Prime Minister Ismail Haniya.
There he held a press conference with Mr Haniya and another Hamas leader, former Foreign Minister Mahmoud Zahhar, who was reported to have taken a lead in efforts to free him.
Mr Zahhar hailed it as part of Hamas's efforts to extend security to all in Gaza "without fear" and so that journalists could be free to work objectively.
He insisted no deal had been done with Alan's captors - who had been calling for the release of prisoners held in the UK and Jordan.
Story from BBC NEWS:http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/pr/fr/-/2/hi/middle_east/6268232.stmPublished: 2007/07/04 07:27:21 GMT

wow almost a year..and a bit of harry

okay so its been a while. if i could i'd blame it on my laptop crashing but i can't. Actually i had even forgotten about this blog.. Z reminded me. Even though she didnt know i had one already. She told me to start one.. haha opps. anyway. i'll write more soon.. just felt that i ought to add something immediately to make sure it's not a year before i post again!

so in celebration of the hari potties uk premier of the movie.. here are some funny lines:

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone/Philosopher's Stone

"So light a fire!" Harry choked.
"Yes...of course...but there's no wood!" Hermione cried wringing her hands.
"HAVE YOU GONE MAD!" Ron bellowed, "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT!"

"I believe misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat." -Dumbledore

"But we're not stupid -- we know we're called Gred and Forge." -George Weasley

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
"Lockhart'll sign anything if it stands still long enough."
-Ron

"We had to write about our hero at school Mr. Mason; I wrote about you." -Dudley

"His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad
his hair as dark as a blackboard,
I wish he was mine, he's really divine,
The hero who conquered the dark lord." -Ginny

Fred and George, however, found all this very funny. They went out of their way to march ahead of Harry down the corridors, shouting, "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin, seriously evil wizard coming through..."

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

"Well...when we were in our first year, Harry--young, carefree, and innocent--"
Harry snorted. He doubted whether Fred and George had ever been innocent.

"Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business."
"Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git."
"Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor."


Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

One of them was a very old wizard who was wearing a long flowery nightgown. The other was clearly a Ministry wizard; he was holding out a pair of pinstriped trousers and almost crying with exasperation.
"Just put them on, Archie, there's a good chap. You can't walk around like that, the Muggle at the gate's already getting suspicious-"
"I bought this in a Muggle shop," said the old wizard stubbornly. "Muggles wear them."
"Muggle women wear them, Archie, not the men, they wear these," said the Ministry wizard, and he brandished the pinstriped trousers.
"I'm not putting them on," said old Archie in indignation. "I like a healthy breeze 'round my privates, thanks."

"Anyone can speak Troll, All you have to do is point and grunt." -Fred Weasley

"'Constant vigilance!' You'd think I walk around with my eyes shut, banging off the walls...." -Harry Potter

"Wild! I can make that old bloke down there pick his nose again...and again...and again..." -Ron

"Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?" said Fred. "That was a sample of fertilizer from Norway!" said Percy, going very red in the face. "It was nothing personal!"
"It was," Fred whispered to Harry as they got up from the table. "We sent it."


"Aaaah," said Ron, imitating Professor Trelawney's mystical whisper, "when two Neptunes appear in the sky, it is a sure sign that a midget in glasses is being born."

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

"He got off, he got off, he got off-" - Fred, George, and Ginny

"I'll make Goyle do lines, it'll kill him, he hates writing," said Ron happily. He lowered his voice to Goyle's low grunt, and, screwing up his face in a look of pained concentration, mimed writing in midair.
"I...must...not...look...like...a...baboon's...backside..."

"Don't put your wand there , boy!" roared Moody. "What if it ignited? Better wizards than you have lost buttocks, you know!"
"Who d'you know who's lost a buttock?" the violet-haired woman asked Mad-Eye interestedly.

"Did you like question ten, Moony?" asked Sirius as they emerged into the entrance hall.
"Loved it," said Lupin briskly. "'Give five signs that identify the werewolf.' Excellent question."
"D'you think you managed to get all the signs?" said James in tones of mock concern.
"Think I did," said Lupin seriously, as they joined the crowd thronging around the front doors eager to get out into the sunlit
grounds. "One: He's sitting on my chair. Two: He's wearing my clothes. Three: His name's Remus Lupin..."

"I said to him-didn't mention names, of course-but I said I knew a werewolf personally, very nice man, who finds the condition quite easy to manage...."
"What did he say?" asked George.
"Said he'd give me another bite if I didn't shut up," said Mr. Weasley sadly.

"-but you get these massive pus-filled boils too," said George, "and we haven't worked out how to get rid of them yet."
"I can't see any boils," said Ron, staring at the twins.
"No, well, you wouldn't," said Fred, "they're not in a place we generally display to the public-"
"-but they make sitting on a broom a right pain in the-"

"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?" said Zacharias Smith.
"Here's an idea," said Ron loudly, "why don't you shut your mouth?"
"Well, we've all turned up to learn from him and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it," he said.
"That's not what he said," said Fred Weasley.
"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" inquired George, pulling a long and lethal-looking metal instrument from inside one of the Zonko's bags.
"Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this," said Fred.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

"You have not asked me, for instance, what is my favorite flavor of jam, to check that I am indeed Professor Dumbledore and not an imposter."
"I didn't..." Harry began, not entirely sure whether he was being reprimanded or not.
"For future references, Harry, it is raspberry... although of course, if I were a Death Eater, I would have been sure to research my own jam preferences before impersonating myself"

"Why Are You Worrying about You-Know-Who?
You SHOULD Be Worrying About
U-NO-POO -
The Constipation Sensation That's Gripping the Nation!" - Fred & George's Ad


"And they'd love to have me," said Harry sarcastically, "We'd be best pals if they didn't keep trying to do me in."

"Sometimes you remind me a lot of James. He called it my 'furry little problem' in company. Many people were under the impression that I owned a badly behaved rabbit." - Remus Lupin

Friends they might be, but if Ron started calling Lavender "Lav-Lav," he would have to put his foot down.

"A ghost, as I trust that you are all aware by now, is the imprint of a departed soul left upon the earth... and of course, as Potter so wisely tells us, transparent."
"Well, what Harry said is the most useful if we're trying to tell them apart!" said Ron. "When we come face-to-face with one down a dark alley, we're going to be having a shufti to see if it's solid, aren't we, we're not going to be asking, 'Excuse me, are you the imprint of a departed soul?'"

"You'd think people had better things to gossip about,' said Ginny, as she sat on the common-room floor, leaning against Harry's legs and reading the Daily Prophet. "Three Dementor attacks in a week, and all Romilda Vane does is ask me if it's true you've got a Hippogriff tattooed across your chest.'"
Ron and Hermione both roared with laughter. Harry ignored them.
"What did you tell her?"
"I told her it's a Hungarian Horntail," said Ginny, turning a page of the newspaper idly. 'Much more macho."
"Thanks," said Harry, grinning." And what did you tell her Ron's got?"
"A Pygmy Puff, but I didn't say where."