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?

Falling in Love With Oslo

Cities have vibes, personalities, characters. I am a firm believer that a person's personal vibe can match with a city's, and those are the places that you sometimes hear someone say, "I could see myself living there." Up until now, my list of locations where I felt my personal vibe match a city's vibe was pretty small. In the US, it consisted of Washington, DC, and Boise, Idaho. And perhaps places like Atlanta, Georgia, or Albuquerque, New Mexico, but I'm not fully sure about those. Abroad, the list is even shorter, consisting of only Port Louis, Mauritius, and maybe Toronto, Canada, although Toronto is in line with Atlanta and Albuquerque. So if you're keeping track, I could only see myself enjoying living long-term in Washington, Boise, or Port Louis. And would consider Atlanta, Albuquerque, and Toronto. Not an extensive list, but that list has just grown by one: Oslo, Norway.

Slottsparken (Palace Park)

My love of Oslo started from the moment I stepped off the train from Stockholm. There was a pep in the step of the people in the train station. People were smiling and laughing, even the people with headphones in. There were people buzzing around outside the train station (this was a Sunday late afternoon). It just felt...right. My following three days, out and about walking and seeing the sights, just added to my love of Oslo. Whereas Stockholm felt sterile and forced, Oslo was relaxed and natural. There was a diverse group of people on the streets of Oslo, and those who didn't match the blond hair/blue eyed stereotypical Scandinavian look or look like they were direct descendants of Erik the Red--especially those whose heritage comes from places like Somalia, South Sudan, and Pakistan--actually blended in with the crowd. And then the beauty of the city didn't hurt either, especially with all of the green space everywhere!

This is not to say that Oslo was perfect. Some things were just bizarre, like (1) the prevalence of unicorn balloons everywhere, including one on my floor in the hotel (and strangely, these balloons never seem to deflate). Other things made me think someone needs to bop Norwegians on the head. For instance, (2) just because the temperature got to 65 or 70 does NOT mean it's shorts weather. Or a time to go sunbathing in a park. Those temperatures are still on the cooler side. (3) Then there's the cost. Oslo is consistently rated as one of the most expensive cities in the world, and it shows. I've basically decided that I'll just deal with four days of Oslo expenses later. (4) Separately, Norwegian doesn't sound like a real language to me. I have a hard time explaining what I hear when people speak Norwegian, but the best approximation I can come up with is that it is a bunch of Germans trying to sound out English words and accidentally getting into a spitting competition (I told you this was hard for me to describe!). And finally, (5) this sun things needs to be sorted out. The sunset after 10pm, with a light-ish twilight until about midnight, which then returns by about 2am for a sunrise not long after 4am is really messing with my internal clock.

But overall, I loved Oslo, and here are a few of my favorite photos:

Bislett Stadium, 1952 Oslo Winter Olympics

Det Kongelige Slott (Royal Palace)

Operahuset Oslo (Oslo Opera House)

Fields on Bygdøy Peninsula

Vikingskipshuset (Viking Ship Museum)

Aker Brygge Marina

And for the video that makes me incredibly happy, here's a song I've heard a lot here in Oslo. I don't understand Norwegian (see #4 above), but it's such an infectious and happy-sounding song!