Alas.
Here's what happens: Harry is horribly disfigured and almost dies but his watch face saves his life, Voldemort gets blue contact lenses and becomes Minister of Magic, and Hermione and Neville get plastic surgery and Bellatrix adopts them. And Ron is blown up on the London subway.
So ends the turmoil and strife of the greatest series this decade.

I had a fabulous time at the Smith's pool today. We stayed all day, and ate cheese and crackers and had flourless chocolate cake, and got very wet. It was drizzly the first half of the day, but dad showed and it all cleared up and was very nice and sunny and the tops of my feet got tan. But the rest of me is lobster pink. How did I manage this?

Today is my Sixteenth Birthday

...And that's about it.
I'm opening a whole lot of cards, and eating a little cake (hopefully), and going to the Smiths' pool, and maybe maybe maybe watching the new Harry Potter movie, if my brothers and I can actually stay in the theatre to see them mangle another one for three hours.

...The Capitol Steps have their 4th of July radio broadcast up! All hail the deranged mocksters!

After Rome, it was a simple matter of our plane from JFK being delayed thirteen hours and an overpriced Starbucks meal to get home.
The limo was not nearly as much fun the second time around. Although that might have been because we spent the night in a deserted terminal under the florescent lights of the seventh level of hell.

And now our fabulous trip is over, and the boys are away at Summer camp, and when we pick them up, we will all go up to the mountains for a week of CFO. (Yes, the many reports you are hearing are true, mum will be camping. All week. In a tent. Without Laura Ashely.)

First thing tomorrow morning, we head out to get my guys, go to the nearest Laundro-Mat to wash a week's worth of boy camping laundry, then go to CFO, where they will just get stinky all over again, but this time with parental supervision.

See you when I get back (again)!