Harry Potter

London is nowhere near as freak about Harry as America is.

I know weird right? The premier was very tiny with less than a thousand people corwding around and less than 100 screaming. Weird. But whatever.

Yes, folks I stood in line outside the Odeon Theatre in Leicester Square and waited for the actors to descend from the podium and into the theatre for the premier. And waited. And waited.

And discovered that I am not a premier person. If you’re going to go, you have to go all out and camp since six in the morning to secure a good spot and be invited into the prime area to secure autographs. You can’t go three hours in advance, get stuck behind a six foot tall person (when you’re 5’4”) who keeps sticking his jacket in the air when it’s raining and people are also using umbrellas to obstruct your view.


Other people yelling and chanting at the umbrella idiots.

Fire shooting in front of the posters.

Seeing the tops of the heads of Ginny Weasly and Belatrix LeStrange (I think).

Seeing my roommate wrap her head in her scarf and get steadily pushed farther and farther away from us in the back of the crowd. Running joke of the night: “Where’s Brittany?!?!?!?!”

Going Tri-State Area on the people in front of us who kept literally leaning on us, stepping on our toes and pushing us to the back. Example:

  • Megan from New Jersey: “I’m gonna kill her. I’m gonna kill her.”
  • Rosemary from New York: “I’m gonna punch her in the face.”
  • Brittany from Connecticut: “I will arrogantly stick my nose up at her.”

All in all, it was fun and something I’m glad I experienced while in London.



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