Harry Potter. Finally.

I can't remember the specifics of it all, but I do know that around the age of 13 (when Harry Potter was becoming all the rage) I was programmed to believe magic was evil and Harry Potter was the devil. I know my parents meant well, and perhaps I wasn't mentally sound enough to read of such adventure without becoming an all out silly wizard-dressing, potion-making, quidditch-playing fanatic. So, maybe they did me a favor.......

(Argument: Why was the magic in The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings different? Narnia? Beats me.)

At any rate, I've done it now! I've read the first book. I'm hooked. My dreams are full of invisibility cloaks and jelly beans of every flavor. I find myself fascinated with the world that J.K. Rowling has created and I'm so excited to learn all that happens there! I feel like a little kid discovering magic for the very first time and I just can't get enough! And.........I'll admit, part of me wants to dress in robes, mix funny colored liquids, and ride on a broomstick dodging temperamental flying iron balls ("bludgers"). Luckily for everyone, I'm an adult now...so I can't do any of that. In public. 

Until I can tear myself away from The Chamber of Secrets..............................................