it's all fun and games

[Marissa, Dominique, Tessa, Nanette, Harlan]

Resolution fail. In a major way. Updated resolution: fuck resolutions. I'm all for the positive statement of goals, but the unrealistic expectations on New Years resolutions especially is like inciting failure. Let's have a bit of flexibility about it. That's all I'm saying.

Also note that if anyone tells you I kissed Devin Finnigan in the corridor outside the History classroom, that would be an actual fact. You don't need to take action against the perniciousness of gossip or anything. Unless, I don't know, you want to.

Talking Professor Little into letting me into the art space for a concentrated session? Not as good an idea as it seemed at the time. Creativity was surprisingly difficult with her breathing down my neck and making mild comments on my perspective and placement and negative spacing. I got quite a lot done, I just don't feel very positive about it.

Devin Finnigan, I hate you, gaelic football, Mary Malone, Ireland, Christmas carols, fucking BELLS, and my entire family.





OK, that's unfair, you didn't force me to drink... whatever that was at wandpoint. And Mary Malone was hilarious. And so was the football even if you had no right to carry me away before I'd convinced those two guys that they were wrong. Which they were. Totally. Anyway, I don't hate you. I just hope your knuckles are really sore.

This headache, however, is BALLS, and I'm going to kill my brother as soon as I can move.

I kept the Longest Night vigil the other night, something I've been wanting to do since I was about eleven, but was only allowed to do this year because apparently conforming to pagan ritual is only acceptable when it's stolen and rebadged in a sanitised version. And it was less allowed than Mum throwing up her hands and noting that I'll be eighteen in a month and can do whatever the hell I please. Damn straight.

I didn't keep the fire going, because that seemed wasteful for just me, but I had a candle. When it started to snow around three it was just so beautiful outside, and I opened the window, and then the candle blew out, which actually just made everything more beautiful and still. I relit the candle by wand, and that seemed... fitting. Affirming. My magic - my will - pushing back the darkness and confirming life on the darkest night of the year. We make light and warmth in the world by our choices and determination. It's something to carry into the new year.

Merry Christmas; bring some light. I'm off to help Mum with the mince pies.

AND THAT'S THE AUCTION CLOSED.

The lucky winners are:
For Dominique Weasley - Daniel at 10 galleons
For Amelia Longbottom - Bast at 10 galleons
For Harlan Macmillan - Harrison at 10 galleons
For yours truly - Ian at 45 galleons
And for Cora Finnigan - Dylan at a whopping 200 galleons (now there's a charitable man!)

Gentlemen, payments due by no later than the day after the Ball. (And may I remind you of the rules, and note that ungentlemanly conduct may result in penalties.)

We also have independent donations from Autumn and Rose totalling 35 galleons.

Total raised for Oxfam Unwrapped: 310 galleons

CONGRATULATIONS, HOGWARTS! That's truly amazing. I didn't think you had it in you, but thanks for proving me wrong.

Dom, Amelia, Harlan and Cora

Ladies, remember that no matter how much we went for, or how good the cause of the auction is, there is no obligation to engage in any activity you don't wish to. The contract was for accompanying, and at least half the evening spent reasonably near the winner. I fully endorse your own definition of "reasonably" as seems appropriate to you.

And thanks again for your help. You're all stars.

Just a reminder: you have a little over four hours to get your bids in before the auction ends just before midnight. Make sure you make it clear who you're bidding on: Dominique, Amelia, Harlan or myself - and special last-minute addition, Cora Finnigan! Get your charitable Christmas spirit on!

Like so many of us, I have officially completely had it with ball talk. But since there's still two weeks to go and absolutely nothing short of cement that will shut you lot up about it, I figure the best thing to do is try and channel some of this into a little bit of good work.

So I'm auctioning myself for charity. Yes, for sale to the highest bidder: me, going with you to the Yule Ball.

There are no gender, age, or even quantity restrictions to bidders. If you and three friends want to go equal shares, more power to you. Note that the contract of sale includes accompanying only: I will arrive with you and spend at least half of the evening in your relatively immediate vicinity, but all further instances of talking, dancing or other activities will be considered on their merits in situ.

All proceeds will go to Oxfam's Unwrapped charity, whereby useful things like clean water, livestock and other resources are purchased for people in needy areas around the world. If you wish to simply make a donation to this worthy charity in this traditional period of goodwill towards men (and women), I will gladly add that to the pot. In fact, if you want to join the fun and auction yourself as well, we could start to get into raising a significant amount here and maybe give an impoverished village a cow or even a camel.

Bidding opens right now and will take place in this journal entry. All bids must be unwarded. Bidding will close, and the highest bidder win, at 11:59 on Sunday night. All bids will be considered intentional and welchers will be dressed down in as public a forum as I can find. Since it's going to charity, cash only; all bids in galleons, though I'm happy to accept equivalent payment in pounds.

Edited to add: Also up for auction: Rose Weasley; Dominique Weasley; Amelia Longbottom; Harlan Macmillan; Cora Finnigan! (So make sure you mention who you're bidding for!)

It struck me, around the point where I was charming my quill to copy out the text with minor variations twenty times, that getting involved in a letter-writing campaign with the aid of magic might possibly be cheating. On the other hand, Muggles have computers. All's fair in love and politics, baby.

Speaking of which, if any of you wanted to spare five minutes from the stressful business of agonising over who or what you're going to wear to the ball - I know that's absolutely essential business - you could also get involved in petitioning the government for improvements to foreign aid distribution accountability such that we aren't funding, say, the brainwashing of child soldiers. Just a suggestion. If any of you lot are actually interested.

I have neither a date nor a dress for the ball, but frankly, I don't know how any of you find time to worry about social engagements. What with quidditch practice starting before I actually go to sleep, sixteen different pieces of classwork due yesterday and trying to actually compose a visual response to the Art Louvre trip that doesn't suck rancid donkey balls, I haven't even had time to even skim the editorial of the latest edition of Bitch magazine.

But hey, at least I'm not a child soldier.

Music and quidditch, huh? Aren't we cultured!

Actually, I do want to say thanks to Hufflepuff, because that was a damn good game. Half the satisfaction in having won comes from knowing we were pushed to excel by a truly excellent opponent, which you certainly were. The great keeping obviously stands out in my mind, but Vi, your arm is a menace, and I mean that in the best way.

Speaking of culture, let's get our Louvre on! Roman antiquities and stuff stolen by pillaging Francophiles in the Near East will obviously be fascinating, but tell you the truth, I am most eager to see the Islamic Art collection. A whole different mindset and alternative history on display. I just wish they had better representation of Asian or African art. Mona Lisa whatEVER, man.

Sometimes I despair of both this school and our future. Actual despair. It'd be nice to think that gross disregard for individual worth and blatant lack of consideration would be shunned and therefore disappear from the gene pool, but since this type of stupidity appears to have achieved gender equality, it will no doubt breed. If anything were going to drive me to drink, this would be it, but in the morning, I will be sober, and people will still be spiritually ugly.

And I can't say that the Department of Magical Games and Sports filled me with hope either. They were clearly all on their best behaviour (the staff, obviously not the students) but there were still some of those appallingly objectifying Harpies posters in some of the cubicles. You know, the ones where they're in bikinis. Wow, that really makes me confident that whoever worked there would really take my points under serious consideration, if only he could spare time from his strenuous workload of imagining me naked.

Countdown to graduation so underway. Anywhere but here, baby.

I'd just like to announce that our beloved - and totally benevolent; don't believe everything you read on the walls of the quidditch changerooms (I am going to enjoy my sleep-in, thank you) - captain Dimitar Dachev has agreed to have meat-free Fridays! If anyone else thinks they're as manly as the Big D, or is just curious about tasty and karma-positive food options, I invite you to join us! Hogwarts provides an absolutely delicious vegetarian alternative at all meals now that I've spent six years yelling at them about it and you'll be amazed how good you'll feel.

I should be doing that potions homework, but question three still doesn't make any sense, and I'm exhausted. I anticipate my knees are going to kill me tomorrow. I haven't sat a broom for that long in... ever? Maybe if I'd spent all summer zipping around I'd... well, I wouldn't be able to meet my own eyes in the mirror for having been so fucking frivolous. I wish I'd done more volunteer time as it is, but my travel-fund has appreciated the pain to my social conscience!

( APPLICATION )