"That Sounded Terrible. Thanks For Playing."

A couple weeks ago I got a cold, so I ended up missing some work and all that*. By Sunday I was doing a little better, but I decided it would be best if I only went to church for Sacrament meeting, to play the organ.

That was a bad idea.

Here is a tip from me to my future self: if you are ever the organist and are ill on Sunday, find a sub and skip church altogether.

My organ playing was abysmal. My brain was all jumpy, my eyes were jittery, my hands were shaking, and my feet kept arguing with my left hand about whose turn it was to play.

Blah.

As a classically-trained musician (can I say that without sounding pompous? hm), I know there are moments when I am aware of how terribly I messed up on the organ, but then it turns out most people had no idea I messed up at all.

This was not one of those moments.

How do I know? Because over half a dozen people came up to me afterwards and thanked me for playing the organ**. Some of them even placed their hand on my shoulder to show me how sincere they were. Note that these people were not complimenting me on playing the organ, they were thanking me for playing the organ. What that really translates to is, "Boy, it sounds like playing the organ is really hard. I'm glad you have to do it instead of me. Thanks."

Normally, no one thanks me or compliments me on my organ playing. Ok, maybe one person might compliment me--usually a member of the bishopric. But anyway, to have that many people thank me... I really must have messed up big time. The good news is I can't really remember any of it, because my brain wasn't firing on all cylinders.

The moral here is: if you are sick, stay in bed and let someone else play the organ!

*I also ended up watching the entire first season of Star Trek (the original series) and now I think I would like to marry Spock, except that he is a fictional character and doesn't really exist, so too bad for me. ;o)

**My ward only has about 40-50 people attending each Sunday, so that's almost 20% of the congregation.

A Child's Drawing

Prince Tuffett gave me this beautiful drawing the last time I saw him:

"It's of you," he said.

"Oh!" I said. "Why am I frowning?"

"Because you're sad."

"Why am I sad?"

"Because you miss me."

Awwwwwww. :o)

"It's true," I said. "I do miss you."

I'm not sure what's going on with my hair in that picture, but it sure made me smile.

Pottermore House Sorting

Now that I have all this free time (*cough* *cough*) because the semester is over, I did something I've wanted to do for a long time: signed up for Pottermore. If you are a Harry Potter fan and have never heard of Pottermore, for shame. Go sign up for it right now.

As you may or may not know, I am a Ravenclaw. I have always been a Ravenclaw; I will always be a Ravenclaw. I have prided myself on this fact since first reading the Harry Potter books over ten years ago. My multiple online sorting quiz attempts all place me in Ravenclaw (but that's sometimes not saying much, as you can often tell what the "right" answer is for your desired house), and I was known in one online RPG* as Betty the Ravenclaw.

Maybe you can guess where this is going. Here's how my Pottermore experience has gone so far:

Day 1:

I signed up for Pottermore. I did everything as best I could, clicked all around, figured out what was going on, and gave honest answers to all the questions. My wand was silver lime and dragon heartstring, 12-and-something inches long. I was so excited to be sorted, and the sorting questions were really interesting as I went through them. At last the results loaded and I saw...

ARGH! Slytherin!

Just to set the record straight, there's nothing wrong with Slytherin. Slytherin would be my second choice if I were picking each house in order, so it's not a bad thing that I was put in Slytherin. It's just that I'm a Ravenclaw. Surely there must be a mistake. I logged off of Pottermore and wept into my pillow. (Ok, I didn't really weep... it was more like sniffling.) ;o)

Day 2:

I signed up for Pottermore again**. I did mostly the same things I'd done the day before, but I changed my answers a little. My wand was maple with a phoenix feather core, 10-and-something inches (way too small). The sorting questions were different, which was fun. After answering all the questions I got...

Gryffindor! That's even worse than Slytherin! Blah!

I did a Google search and found a blog that expanded my vision of the houses, and particularly of Ravenclaw. See here.

Day 3:

All right, I thought. I am armed with knowledge. I know what to do!

I signed up for Pottermore again and answered questions honestly, but chose the answers that would skew more towards Ravenclaw. This may sound dishonest, but I don't think it is. I am usually of many opinions on any given subject, so my preferences can change, depending on the day or the setting or whatever. My wand was sycamore and dragon heartstring, 12-and-something inches. I got to the sorting. I crossed my fingers. And...

Ravenclaw! Hurray! Third time's a charm!

...

Ironically, I kind of think the fact that I re-registered until I got the house I wanted means I should really be in Slytherin after all.

But I'd rather be in Ravenclaw.

Hmm.

Which house are you?




*I joined an online academy where I actually did homework assignments for herbology, potions, flying lessons, DADA, etc. It was pretty fun, but it ultimately took up too much time, so I quit after a few months. Still, if you ever hear about the quidditch team called the California Pipers, I created that.

**Pottermore requires a name, birth date, and email address. Luckily, I have plenty of names and email addresses to choose from; I have fewer birthdays.