My Secret Life, Well, According to Jon...

I've been having trouble thinking of things to blog about as of late. There's really nothing to talk about except books (which is always a good subject for me, but I realize that 3 out of the 4 people who read this blog get bored with book talk) and where I'm going to travel. I refuse to get too involved in politics or issues that kind of matter because who knows who can actually read this thing and use it against me someday.

So I'm telling my boyfriend about this dilemma of mine. He's super creative and decided to write an entry for me, as if it was written by me. I must note that he loves to mock me for being a super dork (mainly because he's one too and can do that without it being demeaning). I must also note, and you should get this unless you're really stupid, that this story is COMPLETE fiction, and that some of the things that I say or do, I don't necessarily agree with in real life (ex. I don't catalog books and I don't database my kitchen utensils, and I would never call my dog a "rat dog", and I don't plan on leaving my job anytime soon for Colorado). Also note that the agency listed that I supposedly work for is very similar to a popular Harry Potter fan site. But here it is. I hope it is at least a bit more interesting than my previous entries.

I realize my life is not very interesting….in fact I know it is not. Why I write in this blog is beyond me. I guess it is habit, or maybe I want to believe that somebody out there actually cares about what I do with my life. Scratch that, I know there is somebody out there that cares. Unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury, the mean or the will to actually find out, say for those who comment on this blog. Is my life really worth dialogging on a monthly, no, weekly basis? I can hear my inner monologue as I write this. A witty voice inside my head reading what I write. I think I will make her British. Yeah, a cheeky Brit girl is my inner voice. I find that people respond more to elegant accents, especially one that uses fun words such as, arse and shag.

Dear god, I have just turned this entry into Bridget Jones’s diary. I am not some middle aged, lonely, British woman looking for a lover, I promise…... Where was I? Oh yes, my life. As you can imagine the life of a bibliophile, as exciting as it sounds, is not in the least exciting as I want to imagine it. As a librarian, I am limited to daily tasks such as cataloging and checking out books and the even more mundane, ordering books. If my love of books wasn’t so great, I would think that I’d hate my job. But being that my love for books is tremendous, I absolutely love what I do! I just wish I could have a change of venue, somewhere less like Georgia, and more like…let’s see…Colorado, yeah, Colorado!

I find that it is a rare thing that one actually enjoys what he does. When I am not ordering books for the small university library, I so HAPPILY work in; I spend my time reading young adult novels, and databasing my cooking utensils. Yes, I know what you are thinking how can anyone live like this? Well, unless they live with their parents, no one can live like this! As exciting as it sounds, that is my life… well until recently. What I am not telling my readers is my real life. Yes, you read correctly. Believe it or not, all this academic book-loving-bull-shite I so lovingly pretend to enjoy is nothing but a farce… A debauchery if you will. You see, I belong to a group so secret, so underground, that the secret government agencies don’t even know that we exist. Before I go, on I must warn you that what you are about to read, you will not remember once you are finished. In fact, it is impossible to remember this entry no matter how many times you read it. That is because this entry contains a higher power… This entry is enchanted. Those who look at it will remember the words when they are reading it, but as soon as they look away, they instantly forget its contents. It won’t even be a distant memory. It would be as if it never existed. I am sorry to disappoint you, but this enchantment is a must. My organization can not afford to be compromised. So enjoy this while you read it because you will never hear it again…

You are probably asking yourself why, and more importantly, how I became a part of an organization so secret that reading about it erase your memory, and why would I risk writing about it on the internet. I write about it for my protection. So, if I shall have my memory erased as well, my story will never be lost… So I can be assured that somewhere, someone, even if it is for a brief instant, will know who I am and what I was. Hell, I may even stumble across this and read about myself, a self that does not exist anymore. There may be some off chance that if this is the case this entry may jump start my mind allowing me to remember my alternative life.

Interestingly enough it was my love of books that brought me to this organization, collectively known as the Muggle Net. The Muggle Net is an organization dedicated to the survival and secrecy of witches and wizards. We are a liaison, between the world of magic and the world of humanity. We are the keepers of secrets that pre-date time. We have operatives in every branch of government and on every police force. The MugNet, works behind the scenes to protect a secret so immense that penetrates every part of life. That déjà-vous feeling you get…..that is a side-effect of coming in contact with a magical entity. The MugNet keeps tabs on the non magical folk that have in some way knowingly or unknowingly come in contact with it. You can imagine what hysteria there would be if everybody knew that magic was real. My job is dangerous. I, myself, have been on the receiving end of spells and charms dealt by those who worship the dark arts. If it was not for my protection charms, who knows what state I would be in.

As I have said before, it was my love of books that led me to join Muggle Net. One series of books in particular, the Harry Potter series is what lead me to the organization. You may think that Harry Potter is fiction. You’d be wrong. Harry is real and so are his adventures. I fact the whole cast is real. J.K. Rowling is a Muggle Net informant. Her mission is to write of wizards and witches and present them as fiction in order to help strengthen the Muggle Net cause. Her writings have helped Muggle Net bring only best brightest non magical folk to our organization. It is because of her that I believe and that I am part of MugNet. Let me explain my story.

The day that changed my life started as usual, my damn dog decided to annoy the crap out of me that morning until I woke up and put him on the bed. Then, after two minutes he decided to jump down, only to want to get back up two minutes later…….and so it went….That stupid little rat dog… all I wanted to do was sleep!!!!! I was dead tired from the day before. I had a hard day of ordering books at the library followed by a night of extensive databasing. I am proud to report that my spatulas have properly numbered and filed away. Needless to say the antics my dog was pulling that morning was undesirable. Unbeknownst to me there was a reason for his eccentric behavior. Dogs have been known to sense things that a person can not feel. Of course at the time I did not know this, I just thought He was being a pest. I finally managed to drag myself out of bed since my dog would not let me sleep. I wrapped my self in my lovely soft on sale for $7 robe, and made my way downstairs to see what the entire ruckus was about. I was startled to find that my parents had been what seemed to be frozen in time. As a matter of fact, the world around me seemed paused. My mother seemed to be in the middle of pouring herself a cup of coffee. The stream of liquid resembled a frozen brown waterfall with a billow of soft mist dead in midair. My father dressed for work was halfway out the door in mid-stride. My heart beat rapidly and I wiped my eyes hoping that when I removed my hands from my face I would wake up to find the normal routines of life moving again. But to no avail, my attempt to wake up was futile. I stood there mystified in my PJ’s. My dog came running up to me and bit the cuff of my pant leg, his attempt to pull me into the living room. Why had he not been frozen? I would soon find out.

One thing I did notice was the sweet smell of pipe tobacco. It permeated the entire house. My parents did not smoke a pipe. Where was it coming from? As soon as I noticed, a voice billowed out across the room and directly toward me.

“Are ya jist goin’ to stand there all day, or ya goin’ to come enjoy a wee bit of pumpkin juice with me?”

How did he know I was there? I had not made a noise. I cautiously made my way into the foyer adjacent to the living room. I poked my head around the door frame. On the sofa was a rather plump man with frizzy white hair and beard wearing very small round spectacles and reading a rather large dusty and worn out book. His clothes were as tattered and disheveled as his hair. He seemed fully engrossed with what ever he was reading. On the coffee table in front of him sat a rather large silver tray with a complete tea service. Interestingly enough, none of the pieces in the service matched. They weren’t even all silver. I stared inquisitively at the whole scene. Without breaking his concentration from his tome he said:

“Well, come on in lass. You got nottin’ to be afraid of.”

“Who are you? And what happened to my parents?” I asked

“Oh, I wooldn’t worry yer self aboot them. They’ll be ookay. Me name is Billings, Archibald Billings at your service. Now come here and talk wit me.”

For some strange reason I was not afraid. I actually felt like I could trust him. By this time my dog had made his way to the sofa and jumped right up on Billings’ lap. Amazingly he did not bark or growl at Billings. Those of you who know my dog know that he does not like anyone.

“Ya got ya self a mean little tike there.”

“Yeah, I am very surprised by his behavior. He never takes kindly to strangers.”

“Oh, I jist ave a way with animals, that’s all. Any way I bet your wonderin’ why I’m here. Am a right lass?”

“Are you a wizard?”

“Aye, you are a bright one. I am a wizard. In fact I lead a of a group a muggles that are very special. Like ya self lassy.”

“Muggles? For real?”

“Aye. Believe it or not thems story you read, they’re real.”

“Real!!! You mean………”

“Aye, every bit o them. And cause ya believe in them is why I’m here this morn. I want you ya to join me group. Will ya be a part of the Muggle Net?”

“Muggle Net, what is that?”

Billings poured me a cup of juice and explained to me the inner workings of magic and wizardry. He told that witches and wizards relied on muggles more times than not, especially when in trouble. He told me that from this point on, my life would change forever and the Muggle Net must never be talked about to any one.

“What ya say lass? Ya in?”

I thought about it for a moment. I don’t why I said yes. Maybe it was because I wanted to believe in something, I wanted to be special. All my life I dreamed of something better, something more. I knew there was more to this world and it had just come full force into my living room. I wanted to be part of something. Change my life? Yes it did. Do I regret my decision? Hell no. Sure dodging curses and always looking behind my back gets old, but so does databasing my cooking utensils. I am a part of Muggle Net. You know what that says? Elite! Life is more than just living…

Hold on………….Flash traffic on the Muggle Net Band. I gotta go! Official Hogwart’s business. Thank you for reading this. I am glad that you have gotten to know me. I am truly sorry that you will never remember me. Such is the life a Muggle Net agent. Maybe I’ll see you in the future… too bad you won’t know who I am…

Obliviate!