Is it too much to ask?

Because stereotypes.

Is it too much to ask that you put down the new edition of vogue and pick up a real book (I know Hugo will be gibberish to you but I think we can start with Austen)

Maybe Marilyn is your hero, but is it too much to ask for you to give She Hulk a chance? (Green and smart what’s not to like?)

Yes we know she is wearing an ugly dress and slept with a dozen guys in a week. But is it too much to ask that you don’t judge and let her be? (Then again, gossip feeds your size 0 body. I wouldn’t want you to starve.)

I admire your confidence and your sense of style. But is it too much to ask for you to stop asking me if I want a makeover? (Bitch please. My sweater vest is vintage)

If your boyfriend physically abuses you is it too much to ask that you find your voice and make a stand? (Because if you can’t get a happy ending there sure is no hope for me)

When you are 40 and single is it too much to ask that you stop throwing yourself at every man you meet? (And in case you are in that place and wondering what to do with your life; I am always low on perpetually horny study subjects)

Is it too much to ask that you understand the real difference between a Ursula and Ariel is not in appearance but in spirit. (Although you have one on me. You figured out good girl gone bad makes the frat boys drool)

The brain is not an ornament on display. Is it too much to ask that you use it? (But then again, You would if you could)

There are so many questions unanswered. So many ideas. So many thoughts. Is it too much to ask that you find some answers? (No! How skinny you can get without dying is not what I meant!)

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A letter to Santa

A ministry of magic official from the general owl post office was sorting the mail at a local muggle post office when he came across this letter.

To,
Santa Claus
North Pole

From,
Hermione Granger
London

Dear Santa Claus,
Mom wants me to write to you because she says even though you are not mentioned in any wizarding book I should believe in you. I mean an old man with a long beard on a rain deer sleigh sounds like Aberforth got confounded and didn’t use a disillusionment charm. But my parents believed in you growing up and you were their favourite part about Christmas(I did too before I started at Hogwarts). Though I think dad’s best part is egg nog, he just doesn’t want to argue with mom.

I am a witch and studied at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. And to be honest I am appalled at the leniency the ministry officials have shown in dealing with you(if in fact you exist) jingling on that sleigh in plain sight. And to think harry and Ron got into so much trouble over a flying car.

But I do like all the stories about you. Did the ministry ask you to use the floo network? Is that why you are always spotted near the fireplaces?

The muggle kids ask you for presents each year. Mom and dad get me wonderful ones (yes I know it’s not you). And after all I have said i can imagine you think this letter is worse than a howler. You should know Ron (I guess you can call him my boyfriend, we havn’t made it official yet) never forgets to remind me of how I can be a know-it-all and Luna(a dreamy witch who believes in crumpled horn snorkacks) thinks I can be narrow minded. But I don’t hate you, I would rather like to believe you exist (but Bathilda not mentioning you in A History of Magic seems a bit odd don’t you think?)

I will tell you what I wish for this Christmas. Maybe you get me a present even if it is only to prove I am wrong (because i would sooner wear dirigible plum earrings than picture you dashing through the snow).
Freedom for house elves, they still seem to be resisting my efforts to free them (don’t think you can help with that though)
An early edition of hogwarts a history.
A friend for crookshanks (with scabbers gone he really has no one to play with)
A two-way-mirror (Ron still shouts into the receiver and besides the village telephone is not very practical for a late night conversation)

So I hope you get this. And happy Christmas!

Hermione.

PS I am sending this by muggle post because I know the Wizards sort out mail before it reaches the muggle postoffice; and also I don’t want to send Pig on a wild hippogriff chase.

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Nerd and proud

Dear world who claims nerdy is the new sexy. Let me tell you what that really means,

Though I am a nerd, I am no Hermione Granger(hit puberty, look nothing like Emma Watson!)

When you picture a nerd girl don’t think of Victoria’s Secret Angels with nerd glasses. (They might have perfected the art of cloning but still can’t seem to get the brain to work)

Make up is what I do on halloween (most of the people can’t guess who I am, I pick characters from books or sometimes take it too seriously and show up as me braces and all!)

I am a book nerd. I consume books like a whore on crack! I fall in love with fictional characters.(Those are the only relationships I need)

TV shows Dr Who & Sherlock.(David Tennant and Benedict Cumberbatch, If only!!)

Hollywood movies show me as a shy invisible girl who morphs into a fairy tale princess (please stop. Just stop.)

Only I get to say “I would rather give myself to Voldemort” to the perv at the bar.

Every girl cried while watching Titanic. I cried more while reading about Snape’s love for Lily.

Best memories growing up: school library(reading about stolen kisses) The thing I miss most about school: homework.

I am not what I wear or how I look. Yes I am sexy in my own way. And what makes me sexy is my brain.

I am a nerd because I was born this way. I will never change.

Nerd, and proud.

The REEL love story

For me love stories are forever. Some of them are from Jane Austen novels and some from the movies. This post is about my favorite actor who reminds me of the magic in romance, and why it will never work for me!
When I watch Audrey Hepburn movies, I want to…..

Find the right english gentleman
ME: I washed me face and hands before I come I did.
HE(slouches): where the devil are my slippers?
(If only there was a man who loved me even after I promptly threw ‘them slippers’ at him in an estrogen fueled rage!)

Go to the bar just to use the best pickup line ever “I don’t bite you know … unless it’s called for,”(how would I know it worked? If I woke up alone next morning in a strange apartment with a nasty hangover)

Write a diary and start the first entry with
“When I finally say I love you to any man and really mean it, it will be like a defeated general who’s lost all his troops, surrendering and handing his sword to the enemy.” (And follow that up with pages of conquests that will put my ‘oh-so-slutty’ girlfriends to shame)

Go to a ball and look disdainful so no one would know its my first! And end up dancing with my Prince Andre. (But Mom!! So what if he is a widower and old enough to be my dad? He is a very hot Russian)

Be a real phony. Own a cat just so I could call her “cat you poor no name slob” (all that just so I could fall in love with a ‘can barely earn enough to get a cracker-jack ring engraved at Tiffany’s’ writer)

Get high on phonetics(who needs weed?!) and dance to ‘the rain in spain stays mainly in the plain’ in the middle of the night!

Sing ‘I can do without you’ in the shower without it sounding like something Miley Cyrus would twerk to.

Sneak out in the middle of the night and pretend I am Princess Ann from the Roman Holiday! Fall in love with a beautiful stranger. Look at those who don’t approve(Mom) and say, “Were I not entirely aware of my duty to my family and my country, I would not have come back tonight… or indeed ever again!”(Yeah you heard me! Wait a minute, did I give up on my perfect love story just to see the look on my Mom’s face? How damaged am I?)

And yes…. dream in black and white (because to say I dream in color is like saying I dream I am in bed with Justin Bieber every single night)

My midsummer night’s dream

Let me tell you a hilarious comedy,
Let’s save that polytrauma they said.
Four surgeons ran into the OR,
And everyone ended up wed.

Helena, Hermia, Lysander and Demetrius,
Around the table they stood,
All scrubbed up clean,
Like gods in green.

Hermia painted the enormous abdomen,
Her eyes like orbs ‘neath the OR lights,
Lysander gazed upon her as he wore his gloves,
Benath the mask her rosy lips just out of sight.

Lysander loved Hermia and she loved him,
The fate of Demetrius’s love for Hermia was grim.

Hermia’s father wanted her to marry Demetrius,
After all he is the best in plastics thought he,
And so he told Theseus the chief of surgery,
Theseus was set to marry his love in all Athenian splendour,
He gave Hermia time until then,
She decided to run away and marry Lysander.

As they stepped into the OR that day,
Demetrius was blinded by hate,
nothing could stop him from mutilating Lysander’s face.

The nurse fairy pock,
With his love potion saw this all,
To set things right he has been sent,
By the fairy neurosurgeon Oberon himself.

As Hermia took the scalpel and inscised the skin,
Puck used the potion on Lysander,
He asked Helena for the forceps,
And thus struck the fatal arrows of love.

Puck cursed the masks,
But all was not lost,
He used the potion on Demetrius,
Who then asked Helena to hold the retractor,
He fell in love as Lysander noted a fracture.

Lysander and Demetrius fought the beast to woe the fair maiden,
Through layers of fat and hardly any muscle they toiled.
The jealousy in Hermia’s eyes like blood in a cauldron boiled,
As Demetrius cut, clamped, sutured,
To nail the femur Lysander began to drill.

This time Puck cursed his brain,
And used the potion on Lyssander again.
Lysander saw Hermia this time,
As she handed him the plate,
His love restored to its former infatuation like state.
She held the retractors with such dignity,
After all she was surgeon blood thought he.

When at last the skin was stapled
And all that broken was mended,
At the start they were like a ship lost at sea,
But when they stepped out of the OR,
They were four newly weds to be.