I’m a muggle. Am I happy about that? Not a damn bit. I’d rather be a squib than a muggle. I don’t even care if I have magic, I just want to know a fantasy world exists, and that I’m part of it. Even if I’m looked down on. Maybe I could write musicals about being an outcast in the magic world and that it would be grand to be a muggle instead, so I didn’t have to worry about even knowing what I wasn’t fully a part of.
What I’m trying to say, is I’m not meant for the mundane world, and I bet you totally didn’t get that from the title, did you? I write (which I’m sure is something astonishing to you as well) so you’d think that living in a fantasy world during my writing time would be enough for me, but it’s not. I want to live there, not just write about it. Well, maybe not my fantasy worlds because they are pretty screwed up.
Anyway, here are just five reasons I don’t think I’m meant for this world.
Sometimes when I go out and my dog is walking her pet (that’s me) I tend to imagine all kinds of scenarios that wouldn’t ever happen. Like, EVER! For instance: what would I do right now if a nosgul came flying out of the sky? What would I do if Hagrid came flying out of the sky and said that I was supposed to be a wizard, but they didn’t deliver my acceptance letter to the right place? What if a white horse with blue eyes came bounding out of the woods and told me that I was chosen to be a Herald of Valdemar and I needed to start training right away. What would I do if a zombie horde came lumbering over that hill? Then I realize that I’m still not convinced that the zombie apocalypse can’t happen and that I’m vastly unprepared for such a thing. How should I start planning? Damn, I might as well consider it a lost cause right now because I’m so far behind in preparing that there’s no way I can catch up now!
No, scratch that, sometimes I wish I was a stud, but a magical stud would be better, right? Oh, but if I was magical, wouldn’t I already have the means to make myself a stud? Alright, yea, I totally wish this was me.
Sometimes I just can’t do household chores. For instance, today I was sweeping, and it wasn’t in any discernible pattern, just random spots. My mind just couldn’t get the hang of this infernal muggle task called sweeping! What was this arcane device I was holding? What was it’s function? And why wasn’t I able to sweep the entire floor without skipping to other places? I almost hung the dustpan up, but had a serious (and somewhat temper tantrum ridden) talk with myself. “Self,” I said. “You can do this. If you can take down dragons on your morning walk, you can sweep this accursed floor!”
While watching The Little Mermaid (yes, I watch The Little Mermaid, don’t judge), I often wonder WHY she would ever want to live with humans? I mean, the humans don’t have FINS, for one. They can’t do magic. They can’t breathe water. They can’t talk with fish. They aren’t (normally) royalty. And plus, doesn’t she know that mermen are a million times hotter than Eric? I mean, just LOOK at him!
And finally, I’m actually really angry that I didn’t get an acceptance letter to Hogwarts. I’m pretty angry that when I clean my closet I don’t fall through to another world. I’m furious that when I read a really great book, I don’t actually start living it. And, I’m really upset that I don’t have a flying car(pet).
Stay tuned next week for the top five reasons I’m GLAD to be a muggle.
What about you? What fantasy world would you love to live in, and why?