Looking Back on Another Crazy Year

This past year has been a wild ride. It's not a stretch for me to say that it contained the highest highs I've ever had in my life, as well as the lowest lows. Moments I forgot the world existed because of how happy I was, and moments where I was just going through the motions to get to the next day. Looking back, I'm shocked the universe was able to pack so much in in just 365 days, and I already know the next 365 are going to be another wild ride.

Last December and early January was one of those lows. After an incident in Khartoum, which drained me physically and emotionally, I returned to Washington more than a year earlier than expected. I had anticipated two years overseas living and working and traveling, and suddenly my life was uprooted, with only a few days' notice. I was in a funk, trying to process the events that led to my quick return to Washington. I used the rest of January and almost all of February to pick myself back up. I spent a lot of time with friends and family, and even if I didn't know it at the time, I am now extremely grateful to the friends who encouraged me to go out, whether for a dinner or a few hours outside the house.

By the time February was ending, I felt that I could really reengage the world and decided to use my unexpected return to Washington to try my hand at dating again. It had been a fair time since I had been on a real, proper date, although that was largely because I was "focusing on my career." While I don't have any regrets about focusing on my career, I realize now that the personal relationship side was lacking, and not just a little. The dating pool in Khartoum was...limited, to say the least. The dating pool in Washington is much bigger and I needed to take advantage. Through early March I had three dates, two of which I noted in my earlier post about girls who were incapable of hiding their crazies. The third, however, was not crazy. One date turned to a second, to a third, and is now at a point that I've lost count of the number of dates.

The dating mostly continued in April and May, although it was punctured by three trips--one week to St. Thomas; two weeks to Lagos and Yaounde; and two weeks to Stockholm, Oslo, and Copenhagen. On St. Thomas, I did some of the touristy things I hadn't done on any of my previous trips, such as visiting Coral World, a marine park and conservation center. Lagos and Yaounde was my first trip back to Africa since leaving in January (can't keep me away for long!). Among the most interesting parts of this trip for me--as odd as this might sound--is that I finally found my least favorite airport in the entire world. I've flown into and out of 91 airports in my life, and Nsimalen International Airport in Yaounde was by far my least favorite. Even countries like Burundi and Comoros had better airports, as well as tiny Mwanza, Tanzania. So congrats to Yaounde?

My trek through Scandinavia also had a nice milestone. The crossing from Sweden to Norway meant that I had finally visited 50 countries (a few days later, Denmark would make it 51). Despite their similarities, the three Scandinavian capitals were all so different. Stockholm was a business city and wasn't exactly my cup of tea. Oslo had a cool vibe and I'd love to go back. Copenhagen was the hipster that is fun for a few days but could certainly become tiring trying to live in it every day. That was my last big vacation because I started an assignment that doesn't allow for me to do my fun 2-3 week jaunts in other parts of the world.

That also means that I spent the rest of the summer and the fall not focused on my next overseas adventure, but on me and the still relatively new relationship. An outdoor movie, an interactive modern art exhibit, apple picking...these are all things I did because I had someone to do them with. Two years ago on Christmas I wrote a sad post that wasn't intended to be a pity post, but it basically asked what I was supposed to do as Jewish, single, and alone on Christmas. I may still be Jewish, but I'm not single and alone. I have reached the highest of my highs this year.

So how did this year compare by the numbers? Well, I flew 39,114 miles this year (about 5,000 more than last year) on 25 flights (1 less) through 19 airports (6 less) in 9 countries (1 less). Of those airports, 7 were airports I flew into or out of for the first time. I experienced Ethiopia, Nigeria, Cameroon, Sweden, Norway, and Denmark for the first time, but missed out on going to Lalibela (Ethiopia) and the fjords (Norway), two places on my "want to visit" list. There's always next year to cross some places off!

That was my 2017. Started from a deep low, and made it to very high high that I'm sure will only continue to get higher throughout 2018. I look forward to seeing what the new year actually has in store!

No contest in my mind that this was the best song to come out of 2017:

We'll Be Moving Momentarily

And with that, half the people in the DC area cringed, then sighed, then gave up on getting to work on time. It's amazing how one simple phrase--seemingly innocuous to the outside ear--can evoke so many emotions from people in a metropolitan area of several million. People from Ashburn and Springfield to Laurel and Frederick have strong feelings about the word "momentarily," all thanks to the inability of the Washington Metropolitan Area Transit Authority (WMATA) to accurately know what the word means.

In WMATAland, momentarily ranges from a low of a few seconds to as many as 15 minutes. I'm a transportation junkie and some of the blogs on transportation and smart growth in the area have rightly pointed out that people would prefer to hear nothing than hear this phrase which should mean so much but really means so little. With no communication, I don't expect my train to move and therefore get excited every time it does. Yes, a problem, but at least setting the bar low. Even though I know "momentarily" has such a wide range here, I always believe this time will be a correct application of the word and that my train will, in fact, be moving momentarily.

I started conceptualizing this post on Sunday as a post about catchphrases and things we say so much that we have warped the meanings of those words. I have a lot of them and am trying to be better about saying words I truly mean. But then my Monday morning commute rolled around, and in true WMATA fashion, there were unannounced delays and lots of momentarilies. So a post about catchphrases will have to wait (maybe forever...I intend to come back to topics but then forget about it) and instead, y'all get a lovely post about WMATA. And the fact that we are not, contrary to what the train conductor says, moving momentarily as we hold each stop for several minutes and in between stops for several more.

No matter how bad the commute may be, my day is always brightened when I get off the Metro and my favorite street musician--Emma G--is performing. She's a good singer, has a positive attitude, and it's hard walking away from Metro steamed after hearing her. Sadly, she wasn't outside Metro on Monday. :(

Hiding Your Crazy

We all have a little crazy inside of us, and most of us are socially aware enough to know how to tone it down. But sometimes the crazy just shines through anyway, either because you're comfortable with the other people around or because it's so strong that no amount of shielding can keep it all in. Especially in dating, I try to hide things that might be seen as nutty--such as talk of zombie apocalypses and wormholes, or some of my excessively OCD qualities--until I feel confident that the girl won't roll her eyes and then ghost me. But over the past few years, there were three incidents that make me think that others don't have the same filter to hide their crazy.

First there was R, who on date 1 told me I held hands wrong. Apparently when a couple holds hands, the girl's thumb should end up on top or else the man is perpetuating the United States' misogynistic culture by subjugating women to being under men. No matter that sometimes hands just fit better together one way over another; for instance, when I clasp my hands, my left thumb ends up over my right one. Against my better judgment, there was a date 2 where I learned that I was discriminatory against people who were left-handed. The easiest way to see that was that when I cross my arms my right hand shows while my left hand is tucked under my right arm. Needless to say, there was no date 3. I felt that someone who find faults in such inane things as holding hands and crossing arms was trending towards what I deem crazy and would find endless faults in everything else in my life.

Then there was C, who is a huge fan of soccer. Except not playing the sport...or watching it. To play the sport would require athletic ability, and being on an open field opens one up to being hit by lightning (even on a clear day) or being attacked by birds that might be flying overhead (all her words, not mine). When I asked if she liked to watch the sport, she said that 45 minutes straight with little action and (on TV) no commercials made it boring. So I'm still not quite sure what part of soccer she is a fan of, but it doesn't amount to playing the sport or watching it.

Finally there was J, whose side job is as a balloon animal maker for children's parties. During the middle of the date, to appease a rather raucous child sitting at the table next to us, she reached into her bag and took out an air pump and some balloons, and proceeded to make the child a turtle. This attracted pretty much every other child in the restaurant, and so she continued to make balloon animals and other things (including a sword and a soccer ball) until she was out of balloons. She assured me later that she doesn't usually do this, but she does carry around the balloons and the pump at all times, so it wasn't the most convincing comment.

I am sure there are people out there for R, C, and J who don't find those things crazy, but I am none of those people. I felt like I hid some of my crazy on the dates, but they just let it all out. What scared me was the idea that they might have thought they were hiding their crazy, meaning there would only be more to come. That wasn't something I wanted to stick around for.

Something not crazy? My love of the song below: What Ifs by Kane Brown, featuring Lauren Alaina. Enjoy!

Catching Up

I'm a clean inbox sort of guy. Having more than five emails in my inbox can stress me out, especially if any of them are unread because I still have some sort of action I need to take on them. This extends beyond just my inbox and includes things like my YouTube subscriptions and DVR too. Based on previous experiences, it usually takes me about 1 week to catch up on TV for each week I am away. Except this time.

I cleaned out my DVR before I left on a two-week work trip in late April. I then had six days back before going on a two-week vacation. And from there, I felt like I was swimming in an awfully-full DVR. To the point I got excited when I had it regularly under 50%. But even though it's my DVR and not something actually important, my inability to clear it out was incredibly frustrating.

Until today. 118 days after I left on that trip in April, I finally finished clearing out all of the shows, movies, and specials I had recorded. Add that to the fact that I only have 4 emails in my inbox, and I feel as if I am caught up and have complete control over all of these easy elements of my life.

An empty DVR!!!

I know it's silly and that there are more important things to get concerned about, but as someone who likes everything in its place and doesn't understand how some people could have unread messages (or record shows without ever watching them), I'll take the victories as I get them.

As for something making me happy right now, I love Pink's new song, so here it is. Hope you enjoy it too.

My Journey With Harry

On my 12th birthday, my aunt gave me one of the best gifts I ever received. I didn't realize it at the time, but one simple gift was my first step to getting lost in another world, making friends that I feel like I will always have, and enjoying the power of the word. For my 12th birthday in 1999, my aunt gave me a copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone and told me to enjoy the adventure. And boy did I ever.

It was a slow start. My first few months with the book were a series of fits and starts while I tried to understand the new world so eloquently described on the pages. After about five months of mixed results, I finally decided to dive in and see what the burgeoning hype around this Harry Potter kid was all about. Within a few days, I found myself in Diagon Alley, aboard the Hogwarts Express, and roaming the castle with my new best friends. I became enamored with the work of 650-year old Nicolas Flamel and started thinking about what I would see if I looked in the Mirror of Erised. I learned how to correctly pronounce Wingardium Leviosa and discovered--to Professor Snape's delight--the wide variety of things that are magic and that make the magical world magical. I remember thinking, "What took me so long to read this book?"

After Harry vanquished Voldemort for the second time, I couldn't wait any longer. I borrowed the second and third books from my Language Arts teacher (she had them in the classroom) and had a deadline of mid June--the end of the school year--to finish them. I went full-force into reading. Then in 2000 when the Goblet of Fire tome came out, I bought it with the intention of reading it on the 6-hour drive up to Boston and the family vacation to Cape Cod. I had only 3 chapters left when I got in the car to start our trip.

I think one of the main reasons I loved the series was because the characters were relatable. I was practically the same age as them for most of the series, so when Harry dealt with the awkwardness of talking to girls, I dealt with that same awkwardness. When Harry started being more cognizant of who his friends were and how they all worked together as a team, I was understanding who my friends were and why we were all actually friends. I was Harry. But I was also Hermione, the bookworm who sometimes missed the social cues. And I was Ron, the "less interesting" person in my friend group. And I was Neville, trying to get in with the popular clique. And Ginny, the person you wouldn't want to double cross. And Luna, the fiercely loyal but quirky friend. And I was even Draco, the kid aware of his parent's expectations but also trying to find his identity in a wacky world. In short, I saw a bit of myself in each of the characters, and I understood the trials and tribulations they went through because growing up is hard whether your'e a wizard or a muggle.

I laughed with the characters and cried with them too. And while the movies weren't perfect, they took the images in my head and made them real. I see Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, and Emma Watson when I think of the main trio. The books introduced me a world I could only dream of being a part of. The movies made me believe that the world really existed.

I remember reading the last book with an impending sense of doom, as if the world I loved was going to disappear. "But there are always the movies," I told myself. That let me put off the pain for just a little bit longer. But then the final movie premiered and that feeling returned. I laugh-cried at Professor McGonagall's joke as she activated the stone statues and told them to do their duty and protect the school. I beamed with pride as Molly Weasley showed her fierce side and destroyed one of the most evil witches of the modern era. And even though I knew how it ended, I couldn't help but sit on the edge of my seat hoping Neville would kill Nagini.

Finally the series was over. I would have to accept that I wouldn't see my friends as I had for the past 12 years. That doesn't mean I stop thinking about them, though. ABC Family--now FreeForm--ensures that the moves are easily accessible whenever I want to waste a few hours on a weekend. I keep the books--now all very worn, including my copy of Goblet of Fire which is literally falling part--fresh by opening them up and returning to my favorite passages, reimmersing myself in the magical world. I take online quizzes that tell me where I'd end up if my letter for Hogwarts and the registry of muggle-born wizards wasn't destroyed in the Battle for the Ministry in 1996 (my letter would have come in 1997/1998). So even though the series is over and has been for years, my many years with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and everyone else in that fantastic world means that I will never not be a part of it. I joined when I was 12, and I will remain until my last breath.

So thank you, Harry Potter, for showing me the wonders of another world, a world I can't physically be in but which is a major part of me now. And also a big thank you to my aunt who introduced me to Harry before I even knew who he was or could envision how big a part of my life he would play. As the great Albus Dumbledore said, "Let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress: adventure!" And what an adventure it has been and will continue to be.

Also, of course this makes me happy. Not only is John Williams brilliant, but could anything be more fitting to express all of my emotions surrounding Harry Potter than this iconic theme?