A Painting and #dumbledore

"It's pretty!" says Mom, holding it out at arm's length with her head tilted, questioning. And then, "...I don't get it." Dad waves his hand in a bring-it-here motion, saying to my mother, "Of course you don't. Let me look at it some more." Dad stares at the painting for several minutes, under the dull living room light. Announcers on the television argue with each other about a baseball player. My sister argues with herself about whether or not the painter is gay. "As if it's your job to classify him in one category," Dad says, looking it up and down. I suddenly like my dad a lot. My brother says, "What's that, Haylzie?" and reaches out his hand. I transport the painting to him, and watch as he surveys it. "Are these hidden words?" he asks, staring closely at a small section. "No," I say, because I like feeling authoritative. "I don't think so," I add, as I realize I'm not. "That's cool," Tad says. I believe him. And, goodness, do I agree.

I'm talking about this:

Which Sebastian painted for me last night. It's a lot cooler irl, but I think it looks rather awesome here, too. I have some pretty incredible people in my life.

In other news (as if it's an afterthought!!) tonight I'm going to see the movie version of my favorite book ever written, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. I'm wearing scattered Gryffindor garb (tie, scarf, probably robes, maybe glasses, might even splurge on an eyeliner forehead scar) and going with my brother, sister, and good friend, Kathleen. Kathleen will be dressed better than I will, which is precisely why I'm seeing it with her. Half of me is thrilled, half of me is [pure-blooded (lol)] nervous, like I've handed my best friend over to Warner Brothers and am waiting for them to create a clone. It'll never, ever be my best friend, but hopefully it'll be better than my enemies, you know?

As for VBS, the slow-burning torture burns slowly onward. Today I led kids around the third floor of the church in a "parade" to the tune of "Every Move I Make," allowing them to drown out the music with shakers and drum sticks and jingle bells. Four-year-olds have difficulty following in a line. I have difficulty smiling through chaos. It doesn't help that my partner is a singer/pianist/guitarist, whereas I just try to grin widely enough so nobody notices I can barely hit the high notes in "This Little Light of Mine." Ah, well. That's why I'm a superghettofly rap star. That, and my constant need to slap a ho.

Sexy: #dumbledore, especially this LOL-worthy tweet from @kristinahorner.

Unsexy: Michael Gambon. "DID YOU PUT YOUR NAME IN THE GOBLET OF FIRE?!" No, Gambon, I didn't. But I might put my foot in your ass.

Chipotle burritos this year: 23

S'mores this summer: 3

Subscribers: 18,145

Bye, guys! Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow. <3