I feel as though I've been punched in the stomach and bludgeoned over the head. A friend I made at ISI, Julie, who it turns out also lives in St. Louis, is completely addicted to Harry Potter. She sewed costumes for her sister, Chrissy, and herself to wear to the last Harry Potter movie, and she and Chrissy decided to wear them again last night to a midnight bookstore party for the release of The Half-Blood Prince. They invited me and one of Julie's friends, Mark, to go along, and I thought, sure, why not, though I refused to dress up.

It was mostly uneventful. We decided to reserve books at a large Barnes & Noble near where Julie lives. She drove in at 6pm to collect our wristbands for later on, ensuring that we were #s 58 and 61 in line. We all came back at 10pm and roamed around the store. In one corner, a large semicircle of children grouped around a store employee shrieked answers to obscure Harry Potter trivia questions in exchange for tiny plastic frogs. In another, a bored teenager sold Every-Flavor Beans and chocolate frogs. Small clumps of parents and preteens roamed restlessly, the parents fond and amused, the preteens shooting each other sidelong glances as they passed, as if to confirm each other's duplicity in the sheer uncoolness of the setting. Everyone gave Julie, in her kelly-green McGonagall robes and pointed hat, a delighted smile.

After half an hour or so, we realized there was nothing to do and settled in a corner of the store to play Apples to Apples until midnight, when the book-selling began. We formed a laughing, insular little group, and attracted quite a few spectators, since nobody else had anything to do either. Kids especially hovered around, not-so-subtly wishing to be asked to play. Julie, Chrissy, and Mark are not as outgoing as myself, so they didn't seem to notice this. I eventually asked one especially persistent little guy to join in, and he promptly offered us his Every-Flavor Beans, a few of which I uneasily accepted.

At midnight, which the employees greeted with cheers and Silly String, the atmosphere changed. They began to call for the first few groups of customers to approach the registers for the honor of receiving their new books. People lined up quietly and politely, thankfully without the shoving or desperate rudeness I have come to associate with these sorts of fads (esp. during my beanie baby years!). The lines processed through quickly, since the employees had an assembly-line system of book-into-bag; bag-to-customer working smoothly. Within fifteen minutes we were out the door with our new acquisitions.

We drove back to Julie's house, where I'd left my car, and parted swiftly, since Julie wanted to read her new book. By the time I reached home, it was already 1am. But I was wide awake. I thought, what harm can it do? I'll read the first couple chapters. Next thing I knew, it was 2:30am and I was still going strong. I grabbed a Diet Mountain Dew from the fridge and continued gamely on through. Somewhere around 5:30am and page 400, my eyes closed of themselves. I woke up at 8am, fetched food, and pushed on. By 10:30am, I had finished all 654 pages. Seven hours; 654 pages; not too shabby. The book was OK, though it lacked much of the joyful sparkle that carried the previous volumes through. Also, there was too much teenage romance. Kids do not need to figure out at age sixteen the persons with whom they will spend the rest of their lives. And I don't like the ending at all.

I'm satisfied with my experience. A person has to do at least a few irrational and silly things in her lifetime. Staying up all night to read the next Harry Potter book is one of those. I realized the futility of the whole thing this morning, however, when the doorbell hauled me off the living room couch at 11:30 to retrieve the mail from the mailman, and he handed over two boxes from Amazon. They contained the two copies of The Half-Blood Prince that my mom and sister had reserved from the peaceful hygienic splendor of our own home. So I read the latest Harry Potter book a few hours before the rest of my family. So what? I groaned and fell back onto the couch.

So now I have pulled three all-nighters in my life. I did the first when I was ten, just to see if I could. The second, in which I wrote my only Dr. Sanders paper that has ever received an A, was last semester at college. Now this. Let me just say that, although it is bright and beautiful outside, my poor brain is still telling me it is the middle of a very long night. Would I do this again for book #7?

Only if I am invited. :)  ¶ 11:28 AM