The title of this post may be a bit dramatic, but I will share about the series of unfortunate events that happened around Harry Potter this past week. Last Saturday, my sister-in-law had a Harry Potter-themed birthday party. She decorated her house with wizarding decor – complete with broomsticks, a “Have You Seen This Wizard?” sign, different characters, wands, quills, and golden snitches for giveaways. The table was set with a feast of yummy food and she had homemade (non-alcoholic) butterbeer! I asked her what was in the butterbeer, and she told me it was a cream soda base, with rum-flavoring and butter-flavoring, and marshmallow fluff. It was amazing. The whole day I chugged down that delicious drink, with a red cup in my hand, and a merry smile on my face.
We happily chatted as different guests arrived throughout the day, and I played with my 23-month old nephew, as the Harry Potter movies played in the background. We ended the night playing the Harry Potter version of the game, Scene It? At this point in time, our energy was waning, and my sister-in-law and I started having stomach aches. I asked her again what was in the butterbeer, and she then told me that she just remembered that she also put heavy whipping cream in it with the marshmallow fluff. Since we are both lactose intolerant, we did not have the best of nights. While her stomach ache passed, my sensitive stomach proceeded to hurt for the next two days. I blame Harry Potter for this butterbeer hangover.
Thankfully, I was still able to go on vacation with my parents the next weekend to Lake Tahoe. It was a lovely trip, as Tahoe has such beautiful scenery, and I enjoyed basking in the beauty of it all. I rode up with my parents, but since they were staying for a week for their 33rd anniversary, and I needed to go back to work after the weekend, I had a flight from Reno to LA for Sunday afternoon. As I waited in the airport to board the plane, I busted out my Kindle and started reading Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I have to admit, that this book had been difficult for me to get into, but during this time at the airport, I finally got more traction in getting more absorbed in the story. In fact, I got so engrossed in the book, that I missed hearing the announcement that my gate had changed from what it said on the boarding pass. I waited in line, thinking that it was my gate. Then I reached the front, and as the stewardess scanned my ticket, she said that my ticket was for LAX, and that this flight was headed to Phoenix. To my horror and confusion, I looked up at the sign, and saw that, in fact, I had waited to board the wrong plane. I went to the correct gate, and my plane had already left. At this point, I was so frustrated at myself for missing the announcement, and then asked the airline worker if there were any other flights out to LA. There were no more direct flights, but she said that I could go on the next flight to Phoenix, which would then have a flight back to LAX.
For both of these flights, I waited on stand-by, since they were fully booked, which was one of the most nerve-racking experiences I’ve ever had. Yet, when the airline worker called my name with a boarding pass and seat number, I felt as if I had won the lotto! Such happiness and relief! So, two flights and eight hours later, I finally arrived at my correct destination. After a very stressful day, I was so grateful to be back in LA, and as I saw my boyfriend’s truck pull up at the airport, I exclaimed, “There’s no place like home!” I could potentially make some theological lesson out of these two stories, but for now, I will just laugh at myself (since it’s not really Harry’s fault, and really only mine), and you can join me in laughing, since laughter is good for the soul.
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