I think this means I'm doing something right. Or wrong. I get the two confused.

So I was texting the lovely Liz earlier today when I gleefully realized that within the month that I've had this phone, I'd already texted the word Voldemort at least once so it's saved in my predictive text.

True story, last night I had my second Harry Potter dream in six months. As in, I have now twice dreamed that I was Harry Potter. Last night the aforementioned Liz was my loyal sidekick. When I realized that I was indeed Harry Potter, I immediately started looking for the golden snitch that would have the resurrection stone in it. Liz handed it to me, saying something like, "Oh yeah, this is the part of the story when we find this, huh?" I tried to put it away in my pocket so I could save it for the end...or the "close" (I'm killing myself with my nerdiness right now) but it was made of this really cheap plastic and the clasp kept opening. This was very frustrating because I wasn't ready to fight Voldemort yet and it was ruining the storyline. I think I might have tried to eat it. Huh. But then apparently it was time to fight, because I went in to some cheap restaurant building, and there you-know-who was. Except, well, he looked like a cross between Kenneth Branagh and my friend Andrew.

My paint skills are incredible, I know.

So everything was pretty fuzzy after that, mostly because I think I was really confused at having to kill a Voldemort who looked like that. Who could resist that face?

And in case you were wondering just how nerdy I get, here's a little gem I made after my first "Hi I'm Harry Potter" dream:

I'm especially proud of my scar. And my glasses.

Wow. Thanks for being my friends, guys. Sometimes it can get lonely on the special bus.