Are you READY?!

Ok, this post is going to get a little intimate and reveal a bit more of my nerdy side. However, if you already know me, you can definitely attest to that without a shred more of evidence than what you already know.

But, that's what we do in blogs and online journals, right? Transcribe our most private, deepest thoughts and feelings, while, oh yeah, forgetting they are accessible to everyone in the world. My online readers -- should you exist -- all have the key to this journal's proverbial lock.

So, back to my confession. I'm probably going to post word-for-word a conversation I had with Jenn earlier today.

So, Jeff and I went to see the next installment in the Harry Potter cinematic series earlier this week and that is the farthest I'm caught up with the novels. Honestly, the fifth book upset me because it was close to 1,000 pages and just rambled and rambled. Much like the Pirates of the Caribbean series, I really felt that J.K. Rowling was shooting aimlessly in order to keep her readers' attention. Obviously, she wants us right in the palm of her hand until the next book came out.

Well, that didn't work on me.

...Until I saw the movie. It has been a while since I read that book and I thought the movie was quite well-done.

I gave in. Besides, I secretly want to know what happens at the end of the series. And I really don't want anyone ruining it for me, which is why I have been francticly reading Book 6, because today I purchased Book 7.

Which is the point of today's entry. As I was standing in Borders this afternoon, the male checker was talking to a woman in a very adult-like voice, explaining his choice of vocabulary words to study for the GRE.

When she was done, he rang me up and said in a very loud and obnoxious voice, "ARE YOU READY?!" obviously implying for the ending of Harry's journey in print.

I was confused for a half second, and then kind of stuttered, "Oh, this isn't for me, it's a gift." I wonder if he or the other checkers picked up on my lie of the century. And might I interject here, that I don't feel as much as a giant dork when I'm sitting next to a 6-foot-4 baseball player in the theater playing Harry Potter. But there's still a piece of me that is a little ashamed to admit that I read Harry Potter at 22 years old. Despite my decision NOT to read it for a very long time. And despite all my 22+ year-old friends who already finished the story the day it came out.

So he pushed my tolerance a little further and then proceeded to ask if I wanted to give the recipient of the book a life-sized Harry Potter in the form of a poster. Shaking my head hastily, I grabbed the reciept and ran out the door, ashamed for the lie. And then as I closed my car door, all I could do was laugh at myself.

Yes, I'm sick. I know. And now so does everyone else.