Tripped across another one of those wretched quizzes. I have been so good for so long, but I broke down and clicked radio buttons and discovered that I am…
The Goddess Life:
Pure, innocent, naive; the embodiment of sweetness and light.
Represented by the color white and the element air, Life is all that is good and true.
She loves order, stability, and all things beautiful and serene.
Shows an inexplicable affinity for operas, curly hair, and corsets.
Er. Okay. Half of me, maybe. I checked out the other possible answers and found my other half, which, fittingly enough, happens to be…
The Goddess Death:
Dark, moody, logical, pessimisstic; probably sarcastic, cynical, and frighteningly intelligent.
Dark, morbid, appropriately represented by the color black and the element water.
Death is reserved, intellectual, introspective.
Rarely does she do anything requiring a lot of energy or display of emotion —
but when she does, anyone within a few planes would do well to duck and cover.
See? That’s why net quizzes can be so disappointing. They only take part of you into account.
Silly net quizzes.
Thanks to my circle of friends who bought me the Uber-Music-Stand last summer for my birthday, I am happily equipped for home practice and concerts. No one, I thought, would ever have a stand like mine. (Mainly because no one else would be enough of a loon to cart the six-ton thing around. But I digress.) Solid and sturdy, with a beautiful shiny black desk that folds out to both sides, creating space enough to lay out an entire string quartet if I so desired. Adieu, page turning! Of course, adieu to page turning at home, not at concerts; we’re usually packed in like little musical sardines, so there’s no room for my Uber-Stand to achieve its full wingspan in public.
Well, at our last concert, I set up my Uber-Stand and went downstairs to stash my coat. When I came back, a second violinist was walking away with it.
“Hey! Hey!” I said. “That’s my stand!”
We argued about it for a moment, then I convinced her that it was mine and off she went in a bad mood to locate hers, which she had just bought. (Someone had put it behind the door. Go figure.) So, with my beloved Uber-Stand back in my possession, I then and there resolved to find some way to identify it as mine forever and ever.
As of yesterday, I now have sparkly Harry Potter Hedwig owly stickers to put on it in a relatively inconspicuous place. Heck, I’ve had one on my laptop since I got it; why shouldn’t I put some on my music stand too?
No one will try to claim it as theirs now. No, sir.