The boy who lived

The first person who introduced me to Harry Potter was my grandma.  She sent our family the first book.  I'd heard of it, but didn't know many people who read it and had no interest, really, in reading it.  But hey, free book!  Why not read it?  Since then, there have been four (I think) midnight book releasings and two midnight movies.  T-shirts, hours of conversation, hundreds of hours of listening and reading and watching, Harry Potter food experiments, nicknames, reenactments (with and without sparklers), magic wand finding, and party planning.  Although it may sound dramatic, it is 100% completely true that my life has never been the same.  I owe you big, Grandma.  :)

I may or may not have just spent a lot of time looking at Harry Potter-related videos, interviews, pictures... you get the drift.  I love it, you guys.  Seriously.  I LOVE Harry Potter.  The books, the movies (except #6), the actors, J.K. Rowling... They hold such a huge place in my heart and in my life that sometimes I can hardly stand them not being real.  Get over it.  Yes, I may be obsessed.  Not that weird.  Anyway, if you've never read them, READ THEM.  or LISTEN TO THEM.  and WATCH THEM. (Notice that's not an "or" - you should always read them, whether or not you also decide to watch them.)  And ponder on the greatness that is J.K. and the amazingness that is her creation.

I could keep gushing.  Really, I could.  But I'll allow you to keep the amount of respect you still have for me regarding my love of fictional ideas.  (That should be an insanely huge amount, considering how great these fictional ideas are, but I know some people just don't love them as much as I do.)  So goodnight.  Sweet dreams.  I hope they're about a boy in a scar who finds out he's a wizard.