I Wanna Be…The Very Best…

 

I should have commenced my Pokemon training when I was ten. Professor “Named After A Tree” should have asked what my gender was, gifted me with a Charmander and sent me on my way.

This never came to pass.

But that’s okay, because at eleven, I should have received my letter from Hogwarts, informing me of the Mudblood riddled through my veins. A dim witted oaf should have bashed down my door and taken me to a crowded alley where I would be traumatised by goblins and egotistical authors.

“A-ha!” I thought. No wonder it took ten years to get here! Poor thing had to fly all the way from England!

Sadly, this never came to pass.

And thus, my childhood ended.

But there are times in your life when your childhood passion can be reignited with distinct events.

This one time (not at band camp), I was sitting on the lounge, wrapped with guilt after learning how many calories there are in each mini packet of Nutella.

And then…it happened.

There was a bang at the window. Intrigued, I rushed outside and found a dazed, white owl.

“A-ha!” I thought. No wonder it took ten years to get here! Poor thing had to fly all the way from England!

I didn’t, however, feel it would be appropriate for a 20 year old to be participating in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, so I helped the owl fly away and accepted that my time at Hogwarts was over before it began.

The next year, I participated in the Harry Potter Exhibition in Sydney where you can play Quiddich, sit in Hagrid’s chair and be sorted into your house by the Sorting Hat. I was competing against dozens of eager children who wanted to be chosen, so, I did what any mature adult would do in the situation. I raised my hand, waved it hysterically and cried in a shrill voice; “It’s my birthday! Sort me first!”

Needless to say, it worked. This smart, selfish cookie was sorted into Ravenclaw before all of the ten year olds.

So, my wish kind of came true. For a brief time, I was a Witch. But what about my dream of being a Pokemon trainer? Well, they found this strange animal. 

Look at it. It’s a real life Mudkip! Not to mention the lengths people go to transform their kittens into Pikachu’s.

Me? I’m just happy with my Pika-shoes.

Sometimes life isn’t always what you think it is. It’s what you make of it. And I feel like I’m making it pretty good.

And who knows; I could be Sailor Moon yet.