(No spoilers, I promise.)

Well, I did it.

I lived until June 21, made it through the suspense, grabbed my Fed Ex package almost before it hit the doormat, and spent the day reading.

So I’ve read “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.” And if you want to make fun of me for being so excited about it, for reading it so fast, or for being a dork in several of many ways, go ahead.

Okay now. All done? Good.

I haven’t had this feeling in a long time. I guess if you like to read, you’ll know what I mean, and if you don’t, you probably won’t. That feeling of having wanted to do nothing else but turn pages for as long as it took until you were done, and whenever you did have to stop, mentally arguing with yourself and reviewing what happened and making connexions and wondering… and then picking up the book again. And now that I’m done I’ve got that satisfied kind of finished feeling. That kind of “Well. There now. Hmm. Wow.” feeling. I’m sorting things out and flipping again to reread parts and I’m sure I’ll reread the book another hundred times.

Cause God knows I’ve got a few years to wait till the next one. Sigh. I just hope J.K. Rowling stays nice and safe and healthy till she’s done with all this. I’m not saying that she’s a master of literature or anything. But she tells an awfully good story.