Sunday Morning

What I'm eating: Organic challah, montasio cheese, and nectarines purchased half an hour ago from the farmer's market.

What I'm reading: Harry Potter 4.

Who I ran into: Amy Robbinson. We basically talked about how we avoid Swatties and dispersed.

She's Back!

Like a bat in the dark. Like a viper, having lain in wait, then lunging forward and striking! Biting at your ankles when ... oh no! Those fangs are poison! Mr. Weasley has been attacked.


You thought you were safe and you ate your picnic lunch, but the wind moved through the grass and you realized it was colder, somehow, then it had ever been and you imagined would ever be. Voldemorte... said the frog, and you nodded, and he knotted the rope holding the sky down.



I am JK Rowling, holding what you have waited years to read and leaving it on your door step 2 hours later than it was supposed to arrive. I am the pair of plastic Harry Potter glasses B&N gave you at Midnight but you couldn't fit over your normal glasses. I am the sound of everyone around you reading Harry Potter and I am the sound of Harry Potter reading you.


I am the half-blood prince and you are Scott Adams. There is no need for discussion.