Pardon Me While I Fangirl

My last post was about how I don't know how to "act my age". This post is going to prove that point. It's going to prove it so good.

This weekend I finally got to visit The Wizarding World of Harry Potter in Islands of Adventure. Sure, to a lot of people it's just a theme park with a cool castle and a couple of rides and a delicious Butterbeer drink. But to others (me) it's literature come to life. It is, almost literally, magic.

Let me give you a little history about my love affair with Mr. Potter. My younger sister was interested in the movies when she was a kid but I didn't really see what the big deal was at the time. Today (June 26th, 2014) marks the 17th anniversary of the release of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's (Sorcerer's to Americans) Stone. So, seventeen years ago I was in high school and the extent of my reading was either the required lists in my English class or some sort of trashy romance novel.

It wasn't until the third movie came out in 2004 and I took my sister to see it that I actually became interested in the series. It happened for a very specific reason that I remember so very clearly: I needed to know more. I even borrowed the first book from one of my classmates even though I'm pretty sure she hated me. There are so many things that were left unanswered for me in that two hours that I absolutely had to find them out as soon as possible. See, movies aren't always all they're cracked up to be. ;) 

I know there are people who don't like to read and there are people who definitely don't like to read children's fantasy books, but all I know is that the book is always better than the movie. This is something that the Harry Potter series has taught me. It's also taught me patience, though I consider myself lucky enough to not have started the journey with Mr. Potter until after what I can only imagine was a torturous three year wait between Book 4 and Book 5.

So, in the ten years since I've become a Potterhead I have been to two midnight book releases and five midnight movie openings. One thing I hadn't done? GO TO THE WIZARDING WORLD OF HARRY POTTER WHEN IT OPENED IN 2010.

Until now:

"Yep, I'm home."

I can't really explain what it's like to see this place without waxing poetic about it, okay? I just know that I got a little emotional. Now, for a non-Potterhead (ie: normal person) that probably sounds weird. However, if you've read any of my other posts you know that I'm weird and you are either a) also weird, b) okay with my weirdness, or c) indifferent and like when I say stupid things. Like I said before, this park is literature come to life. Not only that, it's one of my favorite books of all time come to life. And, guys, it's amazing.

The details that are put into the stores and rides and the castle. This place is everything I hoped it would be and more. Even with the hundreds of people (tourists) milling about the little town of Hogsmeade it was an experience to remember. (So much so that we went back after spending a day at Universal Studios BECAUSE DIAGON ALLEY ISN'T OPEN YET.)

Pretty impressive. 

Anyways, the whole visit really was like magic and even though phase two isn't open at Universal Studios yet, they do offer you a sneak peek of the outside streets and some of the London buildings. 

King's Cross Station

The Knight Bus (The conductor looks just like Stan Shunpike.)

Outside buildings, including Grimmauld Place at the end.

If you (Potterheads) have seen any of the photos from Diagon Alley, you know this is pretty much nothing. But it was so exciting to catch a little glimpse of it even though it is apparently very tightly under lock and key. Universal workers said that they haven't seen any of it either, so it must be good. Oh, and don't try to jump the fence. They don't like when you do that. 

She was a good sport. 

That was my Wizarding World of Harry Potter experience and it was awesome. Nothing too embarrassing happened. I even survived riding Dragon Challenge solo because my family is a bunch of chickens. Well, nothing embarrassing happened until I met Captain America... 

Funny story for you okay? You know I love superheroes. Captain America is probably my favorite. (Okay he is. And okay it probably has something to do with the beauty that is Chris Evans. I can't help it, I like pretty things.Oh, and FREEDOM.) So here's what happened: 

My sister loves Wolverine and while we're hanging out in the Marvel Superhero Island the X-Men characters are out taking pictures. Now, when I went to Disney as a kid this was the coolest thing ever. I mean, those people are practically famous, right? Here I am at the ripe old age of thirty-one and I just don't care that much. (Can you sense the foreshadowing here?) So, Sarah is super excited to get her picture taken with Wolverine and I'm joking on her about it but she doesn't care 'cause the guy's pretty cute and nice so it's okay. I'm not sure what I was expecting in this part of the park since Disney owns Marvel and other things that I don't know a lot about, but I didn't think they would have any other heroes there. 

So. We're leaving to go on a ride and I'd turned around to say something to my mother and when I faced forward again there he was. Okay, I know he's just a dude in a suit. I KNOW. However, when some dude in a suit with a shield looking like your favorite superhero just appears right in front of you, sometimes you forgot how to human. That's not a typo, I forgot to how to human. As in: what are words? (Did I mention he was tall?) So, my mother jumped in (she could talk to a brick wall, for real) shook his hand and told him to shake mine, which he did and then he walked away. (He had nice eyes, too.)

How'd I get the picture, you ask? Oh, that's because I may have kind of stalked Captain America just a little bit. Of course, in true Captain America fashion he a) remembered me b) thanked me for coming to see him c) asked me if I wanted to be protected or hold the shield. 

After that I had to put up with a lot of crap from my sister because, yeah, they're just guys in suits taking pictures with gross, sweaty, weird people all day. I deserved it, though. To each fangirl her own, after all.

Some of us are just weirder than others.

That's it in a nutshell. I don't really know if this post had a point except for me to be excited about something and tell you an embarrassing story. I don't really mind that much, though. Laughter is the best medicine, in my book. Also, if you can't laugh at yourself then you suck, okay? 

But really, I don't think anyone is ever too old to experience magic. Maybe it's in a book or a theme park or a dude in a suit. Go have some fun or something and then tell me about it, because I love fun. 

XOXO

Act Your Age

So, Friday is my birthday.

It's not a milestone of a birthday and I'm not that upset about it. It will just be a change for me, a new era, if you will. Friday I turn thirty-one. Friday I will no longer be "thirty, flirty, and thriving. Friday will mean I am officially in my thirties.

This is okay. I can handle it. For one: sometimes I think I look like a twelve-year-old boy. I think it's my hair and my love of silly t-shirts. I'm okay with that. Just yesterday I was complimented by the cashier at Total Wine when I showed her my ID she said "Wow, I didn't think you were that old". Thank you, cashier who was probably barely old enough to sell me the six tiny bottles of vodka I needed to make my Cosmo Pops (recipe here). That's the kind of thing that doesn't make getting old seem so bad.

Of course, there are things, like an article shaming people for reading Young Adult novels (how rude) that make me feel guilty for getting older. Yeah, guilty for reading and enjoying what I read. (I do what I want, lady.)

Here's the thing: I don't act old because I don't feel old. Yeah, sometimes my joints hurt, I need more sleep than I used to, and I don't party the same way...but I've got a young heart, you see. Just last night at praise band rehearsal we were talking about age and one of my friends said to the other (not to me) "I'd never guess you were that old because you don't act your age". It's a compliment, if you ask me, when someone says that. But at the same time, how am I supposed to act at my age?

How does anyone know when we're all so damn different?

Two of my favorite television shows are Friends and How I Met Your Mother. Both of these shows are about thirty-somethings living in New York City. It showcases all their relationships, their job struggles, and their extra-curricular activities. In Friends the majority of the "hanging out" happens in a Central Perk, the coffee shop. Where as in HIMYM they are always at McClaren's, the bar downstairs.

If I based my "acting my age" on these two shows that people in my generation actually grew up with I'd split my time between being totally wasted and too strung out on caffeine to function!

When my mother was my age she was looking to have her second child and I was ten years old. When my Mema was my age she had just had my mother, her fourth daughter! Here I am going to be thirty-one and contemplating which book I'm going to read next or which television show I'm going to binge on this week.

I can't act my age, because I don't know how. I don't know how my age is supposed to act! Wine tastings? Art galleries? Silent movies? (Snoozefest 2014 if you ask me. I'll be going to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter for my birthday!)

All I know is how to be me.

My recent binge on Veronica Mars made me feel this was a necessity.

The me I am likes to read Young Adult novels and is not ashamed of it, no matter what that rude woman says. (I read all kinds of books, not just YA, thankyouverymuch.) The me I am likes to be interested in things wholeheartedly and not half-ass things. The me I am likes superhero movies over male stripper movies and that is just fine with me. The me I am loves her job, family, friends, church, cat, books, etc...

The me I am will be enjoying life in my thirties with people of all ages, who help keep me grounded and make me feel young, but most of all make me smile.

I hope you don't "act your age", either.