SAA Revisited: Would I Have Been in Dumbledore's Army?

In case you're living under a rock and didn't realize that the seventh Harry Potter movie has come out, let me tell you that the seventh Harry Potter movie has come out. I haven't seen it yet, and I probably won't because I'm socially awkward and hate fighting movie-going crowds. But I thought I'd repost this magical blog post to celebrate the coming out of the seventh Harry Potter movie.




Wait...that didn't sound right. Oh well. Enjoy the post!



Let's pretend Harry Potter is real.

Some people who are reading this might actually be gasping at their computer screens, shouting, "What do you mean PRETEND Harry Potter is real?  OF COURSE Harry Potter is real.  I'm pretty sure the owl who was trying to deliver my Hogwarts letter got eaten by a Kneazle, thus ending my magical education before it even started!!!" 

Ok, so for the sake of sane people, let's pretend that we're JUST pretending Harry Potter is real.  While we're at it, let's pretend that we're pretending Hogwarts is real, too.  Now let's pretend that I got my Hogwarts letter at the age of eleven and was accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  We don't have to pretend to pretend that part, because I can assure you, it did NOT happen. 

BUT if it did happen, I would have been Harry Potter's classmate.  I would have been in the same year as him, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy...you get the idea.  How do I figure that?  According to the death date on Harry's parents' gravestone, they were killed on Oct. 31, 1981.  Harry was a year old when his parents died.  Therefore, Harry Potter was born in 1980.  I was also born in 1980.  So I am the same age as Harry Potter.  (Did you know Harry Potter was 30 years old...almost 31?  The book version is.  Now you know...not that it matters...because MOST of us believe he's not real...).

So let's assume I got my Hogwarts letter and arrived at Hogwarts at the ripe old age of eleven.  I honestly don't remember much about being eleven.  I could barely tie my own shoes, so I'd imagine being on my own in ANY kind of boarding school would be an adventure...so the whole magical thing just takes it to a whole other level.  I'm pretty sure I would have been raised by Muggle parents, pretty much because I WAS raised by Muggle parents.  Well, my mom might be secretly magical...she's kind of awesome like that....

And speaking of my mom, I'm pretty sure a mama's girl like me would have a VERY difficult time adjusting to being away from home.  I would NOT have been placed in Gryffindor.  No, no.  I wouldn't be nearly brave enough.  The Sorting Hat would have taken one look at my cowardly brain and put me in HUFFLEPUFF! 

Back to reality for a moment.  Harry Potter didn't exist until I was almost an adult.  I didn't read any of the books until I was twenty-one, and by that time the fourth book was already out.  In 2001, most good Christian parents were telling their kids to stay away from Harry Potter, saying it was all about witchcraft and evil.  That encouraged me to want to read them (I'm always looking to read things that other Christians call evil--I want to make my own judgments), but I hadn't made the effort yet.  My good Christian parents?  They read the books and told me I HAD to read them.  They put the books into my hands and left me for a weekend to go visit my sister.

I mentally devoured those first four books within the span of three days.  From that time on, I was a Potterhead.  There was no going back.  I imagine that if I had gotten my hands on those books as a I teenager, I would have had wild fantasies about living at Hogwarts.  Shoot, I had wild fantasies about living at Hogwarts even in my 20s...but by that time I think I'd mellowed a little.  See, when I was a teenager, I latched on to whatever fantasy I could.  I did this because my reality pretty much sucked. 

A lot of that was my fault.  I realize that now.  And if anyone from my high school years ever reads this, please accept my apologies for being an arrogant brat.  People didn't like me, but I didn't exactly give them reason to like me.  I thought I was better than everyone, and I'm sure that attitude came out in my actions.

So yeah, I was unpopular.  I was a social misfit.  I still am, but it seems like I fit in better now.  I guess everyone else is a social misfit, too.  My attitude is a lot better now, at any rate.  But my teenage years were so uncomfortable that I sought escape.  I'm a little embarrassed to admit that my favorite fantastical escape was Star Trek.  It was bad....

But I can't help but think that I would have fantasized about Hogwarts if the books had been available when I was fourteen.  I would have imagined myself learning magical spells and going on wild adventures, facing Dementors and Death Eaters, and maybe even fighting Voldemort, himself.  The thing of it is, now that I'm older and wiser, I realize that things would not have gone like that at all.

I would have been just as unpopular at Hogwarts as I was in the real world.  I probably wouldn't have been friends with Ron or Harry.  I mean, getting to hang out with Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom would have been a step up for me.  I might have gotten along, to some degree, with Hermione. 

I even dressed up as Hermione Granger (complete with Crookshanks) for Halloween one year.

I always did well in class, so maybe Hermione would have been nice to me.  But I doubt we would have hung out socially...except for maybe the occasional study group. 

Oh wait...I always preferred to study alone.  I probably would have only left my common room for class and meal times.

And speaking of meal times, they would have been EXTREMELY detrimental to my health and social status.  I was a chunky child and a chunky teenager.  Well, the Great Hall is kind of like a magical All-You-Can-Eat buffet three times a day...and I'm pretty sure pumpkin juice wasn't that healthy.  I'm not picturing just plain old juice from a healthy pumpkin--I'm picturing liquid pumpkin pie complete with a large dollop of cool whip.  I mean, theoretically speaking, the magical food might have had some kind of calorie reducing enchantment...but I doubt it.  I would have gained even more weight at a school like Hogwarts...which would make me less popular.

And I doubt I would have mad magical skills.  Considering the fact that I was fifteen before I learned how to ride a bike and that it took me THREE tries before I got my driver's license, I'm pretty sure that broom riding would NOT be my very special talent.  And even though I understand Quidditch better than MOST sports, I probably would have not understood it enough to enjoy it.  So while the house teams were playing Quidditch and all the other students were down cheering, I'd have probably snuck up to my common room to fantasize about living in a non-magical world or something.

I also would probably suck at Potions class because, well, I can't cook.  And Defense Against the Dark Arts?  No way.  I'm pretty sure my Patronus would be a grub worm or something lame.  That wouldn't scare off any Dementors.  But...then I'd have more excuses to eat chocolate...which again...bad for my waistline and popularity.

The only place where I might have succeeded magically would have been Divinations class...but that's mainly because I like tea.

I have a feeling I'd be a Squib.

And when Voldemort came back, I'd probably just go home and hide with my non-magical parents while Harry Potter and his friends saved the day.  I wouldn't have followed spiders into the Forbidden Forest.  I wouldn't have fought for the freedom of house elves.  I wouldn't have tried to enter the Triwizard Tournament.  I wouldn't have trained in Dumbledore's Army.  I would have sat in my room wishing that my life were different...because the gillyweed is always greener on the other side of the Black Lake.

I would be a Hufflepuff, and that fact used to depress me a lot.  That's because I didn't understand how awesome Hufflepuffs are.  If I had been in Hogwarts as a teenager, I wouldn't have understood how awesome Hufflepuffs are, either.  I didn't realize Hufflepuffs were awesome until fairly recently.

I used to see Hufflepuffs as the left-overs.  If you weren't evil enough to be in Slytherin, or smart enough to be in Ravenclaw, or brave enough to be in the coveted Gryffindor, then the Sorting Hat would just throw you into Hufflepuff: The Leftover House.

But that's not a true representation of a Hufflepuff.  Cedric Diggory (before Voldemort turned him into a sparkly vampire) was in Hufflepuff.  What was so awesome about Cedric Diggory?  What's so awesome about most Hufflepuffs?  They're honest.  They're fair.  They're compassionate.  They're encouraging.  They work hard, and they care about others.  Eventually, and probably years after I graduated fair Hogwarts, I would have realized that being a Hufflepuff is a great honor.  That's when I would have known the truth that my life was just as it should be...that there was no fantasy greater than the reality of my magical life!

...but we're just pretending, remember?

SAA Ep. #26: Book Withdrawal

I was going to write a blog a couple of nights ago, but I couldn't.  I couldn't function enough to form a three word sentence, let alone write an entire blog.  My hands were shaking.  I couldn't think clearly.  All I could do was sit on the floor, rocking back and forth, staring at the phone.  I was waiting for a phone call.  I was waiting for the phone call that would end my misery.  I was waiting for that smooth, automated voice to tell me that my next fix was ready...

...I was waiting for a call from the library to let me know the book I'd reserved was waiting for me.

I made the mistake of reading a book (The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins--I highly recommend it, but only if you have immediate access to the sequels) last week without making sure the sequel was readily available.  I finished the first book, only to discover that not only was it extremely well-written and enticing, but it also ended on a cliffhanger (of sorts)!!!!  So I immediately went to reserve the sequel, and was dismayed to find that I was #79 on the waiting list.  Just to be safe, when I reserved the sequel, I also reserved the sequel to the sequel.  When the library finally called, guess which book was ready?  The sequel?  No.  The sequel to the sequel.

I'm still waiting for the sequel.  Anxiously, anxiously awaiting the sequel...  I have bitten off all of my fingernails.

And I'm wondering how in the world I survived waiting for three out of the seven Harry Potter books to come out (book four was still only available in hardcover when I started that addiction).  I do remember rereading the books, watching the first movie (it had just come out) over and over.  I remember reading the fan-theory websites, trying to figure out what was going to happen to poor Harry.  Would he live?  Would he die?  Would Voldemort rule the world?  Would Ron and Hermione ever figure out they were supposed to get married and have red-haired babies?  Those things tided me over.

This time, there is no movie (it's set to come out sometime next year, though!).  I can't read fansites without reading spoilers.  So, there's only that first book.  That first wonderful, addicting book.  Only now it mocks me.  It mocks me because it's over, and I'm left wondering what's going to happen to the characters, who's going to end up with who, if everyone is going to live until the end...

Things have gotten better.  I'm no longer breaking out in cold sweats, muttering the main character's names in my sleep.  But if the library doesn't call me soon, I might have to go do something desperate.  I might...I might...visit...a book dealer...

Please someone out there tell me they can relate to this.  I need to know I'm not the only one nerdy enough to need a book fix!  Have any of you ever suffered from book withdrawal?

SSA Ep. # 25: Would I Have Been in Dumbledore's Army?

Let's pretend Harry Potter is real.

Some people who are reading this might actually be gasping at their computer screens, shouting, "What do you mean PRETEND Harry Potter is real?  OF COURSE Harry Potter is real.  I'm pretty sure the owl who was trying to deliver my Hogwarts letter got eaten by a Kneazle, thus ending my magical education before it even started!!!" 

Ok, so for the sake of sane people, let's pretend that we're JUST pretending Harry Potter is real.  While we're at it, let's pretend that we're pretending Hogwarts is real, too.  Now let's pretend that I got my Hogwarts letter at the age of eleven and was accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  We don't have to pretend to pretend that part, because I can assure you, it did NOT happen. 

BUT if it did happen, I would have been Harry Potter's classmate.  I would have been in the same year as him, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy...you get the idea.  How do I figure that?  According to the death date on Harry's parents' gravestone, they were killed on Oct. 31, 1981.  Harry was a year old when his parents died.  Therefore, Harry Potter was born in 1980.  I was also born in 1980.  So I am the same age as Harry Potter.  (Did you know Harry Potter was 30 years old...almost 31?  The book version is.  Now you know...not that it matters...because MOST of us believe he's not real...).

So let's assume I got my Hogwarts letter and arrived at Hogwarts at the ripe old age of eleven.  I honestly don't remember much about being eleven.  I could barely tie my own shoes, so I'd imagine being on my own in ANY kind of boarding school would be an adventure...so the whole magical thing just takes it to a whole other level.  I'm pretty sure I would have been raised by Muggle parents, pretty much because I WAS raised by Muggle parents.  Well, my mom might be secretly magical...she's kind of awesome like that....

And speaking of my mom, I'm pretty sure a mama's girl like me would have a VERY difficult time adjusting to being away from home.  I would NOT have been placed in Gryffindor.  No, no.  I wouldn't be nearly brave enough.  The Sorting Hat would have taken one look at my cowardly brain and put me in HUFFLEPUFF! 

Back to reality for a moment.  Harry Potter didn't exist until I was almost an adult.  I didn't read any of the books until I was twenty-one, and by that time the fourth book was already out.  In 2001, most good Christian parents were telling their kids to stay away from Harry Potter, saying it was all about witchcraft and evil.  That encouraged me to want to read them (I'm always looking to read things that other Christians call evil--I want to make my own judgments), but I hadn't made the effort yet.  My good Christian parents?  They read the books and told me I HAD to read them.  They put the books into my hands and left me for a weekend to go visit my sister.

I mentally devoured those first four books within the span of three days.  From that time on, I was a Potterhead.  There was no going back.  I imagine that if I had gotten my hands on those books as a I teenager, I would have had wild fantasies about living at Hogwarts.  Shoot, I had wild fantasies about living at Hogwarts even in my 20s...but by that time I think I'd mellowed a little.  See, when I was a teenager, I latched on to whatever fantasy I could.  I did this because my reality pretty much sucked. 

A lot of that was my fault.  I realize that now.  And if anyone from my high school years ever reads this, please accept my apologies for being an arrogant brat.  People didn't like me, but I didn't exactly give them reason to like me.  I thought I was better than everyone, and I'm sure that attitude came out in my actions.

So yeah, I was unpopular.  I was a social misfit.  I still am, but it seems like I fit in better now.  I guess everyone else is a social misfit, too.  My attitude is a lot better now, at any rate.  But my teenage years were so uncomfortable that I sought escape.  I'm a little embarrassed to admit that my favorite fantastical escape was Star Trek.  It was bad....

But I can't help but think that I would have fantasized about Hogwarts if the books had been available when I was fourteen.  I would have imagined myself learning magical spells and going on wild adventures, facing Dementors and Death Eaters, and maybe even fighting Voldemort, himself.  The thing of it is, now that I'm older and wiser, I realize that things would not have gone like that at all.

I would have been just as unpopular at Hogwarts as I was in the real world.  I probably wouldn't have been friends with Ron or Harry.  I mean, getting to hang out with Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom would have been a step up for me.  I might have gotten along, to some degree, with Hermione. 

I even dressed up as Hermione Granger (complete with Crookshanks) for Halloween one year.

I always did well in class, so maybe Hermione would have been nice to me.  But I doubt we would have hung out socially...except for maybe the occasional study group. 

Oh wait...I always preferred to study alone.  I probably would have only left my common room for class and meal times.

And speaking of meal times, they would have been EXTREMELY detrimental to my health and social status.  I was a chunky child and a chunky teenager.  Well, the Great Hall is kind of like a magical All-You-Can-Eat buffet three times a day...and I'm pretty sure pumpkin juice wasn't that healthy.  I'm not picturing just plain old juice from a healthy pumpkin--I'm picturing liquid pumpkin pie complete with a large dollop of cool whip.  I mean, theoretically speaking, the magical food might have had some kind of calorie reducing enchantment...but I doubt it.  I would have gained even more weight at a school like Hogwarts...which would make me less popular.

And I doubt I would have mad magical skills.  Considering the fact that I was fifteen before I learned how to ride a bike and that it took me THREE tries before I got my driver's license, I'm pretty sure that broom riding would NOT be my very special talent.  And even though I understand Quidditch better than MOST sports, I probably would have not understood it enough to enjoy it.  So while the house teams were playing Quidditch and all the other students were down cheering, I'd have probably snuck up to my common room to fantasize about living in a non-magical world or something.

I also would probably suck at Potions class because, well, I can't cook.  And Defense Against the Dark Arts?  No way.  I'm pretty sure my Patronus would be a grub worm or something lame.  That wouldn't scare off any Dementors.  But...then I'd have more excuses to eat chocolate...which again...bad for my waistline and popularity.

The only place where I might have succeeded magically would have been Divinations class...but that's mainly because I like tea.

I have a feeling I'd be a Squib.

And when Voldemort came back, I'd probably just go home and hide with my non-magical parents while Harry Potter and his friends saved the day.  I wouldn't have followed spiders into the Forbidden Forest.  I wouldn't have fought for the freedom of house elves.  I wouldn't have tried to enter the Triwizard Tournament.  I wouldn't have trained in Dumbledore's Army.  I would have sat in my room wishing that my life were different...because the gillyweed is always greener on the other side of the Black Lake.

I would be a Hufflepuff, and that fact used to depress me a lot.  That's because I didn't understand how awesome Hufflepuffs are.  If I had been in Hogwarts as a teenager, I wouldn't have understood how awesome Hufflepuffs are, either.  I didn't realize Hufflepuffs were awesome until fairly recently.

I used to see Hufflepuffs as the left-overs.  If you weren't evil enough to be in Slytherin, or smart enough to be in Ravenclaw, or brave enough to be in the coveted Gryffindor, then the Sorting Hat would just throw you into Hufflepuff: The Leftover House.

But that's not a true representation of a Hufflepuff.  Cedric Diggory (before Voldemort turned him into a sparkly vampire) was in Hufflepuff.  What was so awesome about Cedric Diggory?  What's so awesome about most Hufflepuffs?  They're honest.  They're fair.  They're compassionate.  They're encouraging.  They work hard, and they care about others.  Eventually, and probably years after I graduated fair Hogwarts, I would have realized that being a Hufflepuff is a great honor.  That's when I would have known the truth that my life was just as it should be...that there was no fantasy greater than the reality of my magical life!

...but we're just pretending, remember?

Embarrablast from the Past Ep.# 9: Weird Waiters

I have about six months combined experience working in a restaurant. For three months, I was a hostess at one of those franchised sit down family type restaurants that also has pie. I gained weight working there. I also worked for three months as a pizza delivery girl. I think I actually lost some weight with that job. Pie is better than pizza. *MUST RESIST URGE TO GO ON FIVE PARAGRAPH RANT ABOUT HOW I DON'T LIKE IT WHEN SOMEONE REFERS TO A "PIZZA PIE."*

So, yes, I have worked in the food service industry *just* long enough to learn that there are some weird characters who work in restaurants. Most of these people are kept behind the scenes--in the kitchen--cooking your food. Occasionally, however, I've been eating establishments where they keep their crazies right out in the open. I guess the management figures that it provides atmosphere...or something. At any rate, I think I've had more than my fair share of awkward experiences with restaurant employees.

My first example comes from my high school years. I went out to Shoney's with my family for my birthday. I think I was 16. Well, suddenly, the Shoney Bear pops up. You know...guy (girl?) in a big ol' cartoon bear costume. Smiling. Always smiling.

Shoney Bear comes up to my table and just stands there. My parents were at the salad bar or something. Shoney Bear just stands. Stupid big cartoon bear eyes. Smiling.

My parents came back, yet the Shoney Bear stood. Finally, I was like, "Do I know you?"

Shoney Bear, smiling, very slowly shakes his head "no."

"Can I help you with something?"

Shoney Bear smiles. And nods. And smiles.

Then Shoney Bear sits next to me in the booth and gives me a hug. Then Shoney Bear got up and went to harass someone else. Still smiling.

I had nightmares for weeks.

The second incident came from my later teenage years. I was in college at this point. I also had about the worst attitude in the world. Let me set the stage for you. It was the summer after my freshman year of college, where I had developed this ridiculous and completely unhealthy crush on this guy who just really didn't LIKE like me at all. I was still basking in the depths of despair, and my friend was like, "Oh come spend the weekend with me." So I did. And a few other friends came, too. In that weekend, my friend started dating someone. Two others who were there started dating. The other guy who was there was in a relationship and I wasn't interested anyway.

So we went to a restaurant (sidenote: does anyone find the word "restaurant" ridiculously awkward to spell??) and I was in a mood. So the waiter comes up and seats all of us. There were six of us. Two couples, me and this other guy. The waiter's name was Greg. I remember that vividly, because as the evening progressed, so did my intense hatred of Greg.

First, he just assumed all of us were dating each other somehow, which really was a pretty fair assumption. When I explained that I would be paying for my food separately, that's when he began being a phenomenal jerk. He started making this big show of how everyone else was dating and I wasn't. Did he think he was being cute? Idk. I just thought he was being rude. And I still think that.

Well, eventually everyone ordered dessert. One couple ordered a dessert to share. The other couple ordered a dessert to share. The guy ordered a dessert just for himself. I didn't want anything, so I didn't order anything. When Greg brought out the desserts, each of them had two spoons. He set them all down on the table, then jerks one of the spoons out of one of the desserts, looked right at me and said, "Oops! We won't be needing THAT one!"

Then, when he brought everyone their checks, he came over to me and said, "Oh, it's all right." And he put his arm around me and rubbed my shoulder. I don't know how I refrained from punching him in the face.

Greg did not get a tip. If you know me, then you know that's pretty serious.

The last example happened about a year ago. I went to a restaurant with one of my friends. The waiter comes up to our table and sits down next to me in the booth. "Hi, my name is "Not Greg" and I'll be your server today. Our specials are...."

I just glared at him. Really? In what universe is it okay for a waiter to just come and casually sit down next to someone they don't know? "Not Greg" eventually stopped telling us about the specials long enough to pay attention to my reaction.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" he asked.

I nodded. "Um, yes."

He stood up, did not apologize, and asked us what we wanted to drink. Then later, when he came back with our orders, he made this big deal about making ME sound like a jerk because I wouldn't let him sit next to me while taking my order.

He did get a tip...a minimal one...I mean, after all, he wasn't Greg.

I have probably had other weird restaurant employee experiences, but those are the big ones. A few months ago, I'm pretty sure I had Harry Potter for a waiter, but he wouldn't admit to anything.