I need a security blanket

I finally finished the last Harry Potter book. Considering that it was bought on the night it came out, I don't think it really could've taken longer, but I've been reading it a page or two at a time until the night before last, when I read from about page 200 to the end in one marathon session.

Page 665 was when I started enjoying it, and I know that because I remember looking down at the page number and thinking, Wow, page 666 and Snape is being nice.

I've always been a Snape fan, moreso now that Hermione seems to have been consistently ragging since book 3 on, and Sirius got whacked. So needless to say, the authoress gained at least a little respect from me by the way she peppered hints about my favorite Dark Arts Professor. When I realized who's patronus the white doe was, I about squealed. Although, it would have been better for me at least, if it wasn't lamed down by 'Oh, he was in love with Lily and that was why he had that patronus, not because he could have had further redeeming values or anything'.

My problem with the books has always been that Harry is a boy of very little flaw, and everyone does seem either unfairly against, or so very in love with him. I'm pretty sure that if I tested the boy who lived with the Mary Sue Litmus Test, the results would be in the top percentile. I also wasn't a fan of how out of the blue the Hallows was.

Wow, that has to be one of the nerdiest rants to ever leave my head. I'll go back to internally obsessing about the new Indiana Jones movie now.

... because it belongs in a museum!

Yesterday I hopefully cleared up my apartment stuff, but just didn't go back to work. I'm going to put in 40 hours next week and from therein, but to be honest, I was wee inches close to locking myself in the regrettably unisex bathroom and hiding, I was so upset. Knowing my track record of behavior when I'm upset, leaving really was the better option.

After getting to Brandon's pad, he, and a friend, and I watched this hilarious documentary about sex addiction and commitment phobias, the latter of which I really could've taken notes on. His friend was really cool too, and I wouldn't mind hanging out with her more (omig subtle hintery).

On the drive home though, it was weird. The weather had cleared up but it was very foggy out, it was about midnight or midnight thirty and I was going down the highway at about 50mph because it was deserted anyway, and I didn't want to hydroplane. Going that slow though, I still almost hit a car that was halfway on the shoulder. The emergency lights were on and a woman was walking not too far from it.

I called the highway patrol to report a possible accident, and it was in the middle of nowhere but near a landmark everyone knows (how can you miss a quarry?), gave them the car's color and as good a description of the woman that I could, but kind of hung around a little bit just in case. When I volunteered for the Red Cross, I noticed that a lot of the people we looked for in the woods were seen earlier by people who just drove by; I don't want to be one of those people, obviously.

Not too long afterward, maybe an half an hour, an officer called my cell and told me they found the car but no woman, and asked if I was sure about what I saw. I told him yes, she had bright blond hair and that's hard to miss even in the dark, then I told him to call again if they still don't find her and I'll lend a hand.

They never called back so I'm assuming they found her, but I can't help but remembering when I was younger and with the car that seemed to hate me. So many times that, without a cell phone, I was stranded on the side of the road. For miles I would walk, but I never really thought about how easy it would be for me to just slip into the woods and disappear forever.

Has anyone ever called the highway patrol for me, and have they ever gone looking, only to find I was already gone?

There's something upsetting about that.

There needs to be a hotline, a 1-800 number that you call, you leave your name and a message just to let them know you're okay. That way, if anyone ever calls, they can know. Even if by then you're not fine, you need to hear that from people sometimes, that they're safe and secure.