I’ve never seen Lost in Translation, but judging from what I’ve heard and read so far, I think it’d be a movie that I’d really like.

The reason I brought it up—have you ever found yourself in the middle of this huge place, with people shuffling past you in every direction, and the only one that seems to be stagnant is you? I love that: stopping still and watching the world move—anyway, the title of the movie always reminds me of that.

So on Saturday I was Lost in Oslo S, in the interim between Xenia and Eric’s departure and my train to Holmestrand. Usually I don’t think too much about Oslo—it’s not an exciting place—but I guess in these last days here you start to appreciate everything a little more. So on Saturday, Oslo S was an exciting place to be: the hustle and bustle of people, all headed to different places—the airport, Drammen, Vestlandet, Sørlandet. But I was going to Holmestrand.
Of all the possibilities, of all the different trains you can take from Oslo Sentralstasjon, I was taking that particular one. (Actually, I ended up taking a replacement bus because of “tog innstilt.”)
I guess what I’m really trying to say is: I have a really bad case of the wanderlust.

I want to go places, see the world, do things. I want to sleep in a Mongolian ger, I want to bike around Iceland, I want to go Scuba diving again. I want to be in those pictures you see in those DK Eyewitness Travel Guides, not just look at them. Ahhh!

Two other thoughts that have been nipping at me i det siste:

1. What if you’re not who you want to be, but who you’re good at being? I mean, let’s say a person is amazingly gifted at computer programming. It’s not shabby right? A computer programmer earns good dough! So let’s say this person has everything it takes to be the next great computer programmer, but: what if it’s not his dream to be the next great computer programmer? What if he really wanted, more than anything, to be a weightlifter? The typical clichéd advice would be to follow his dreams right? But what if he was really scrawny and sucked at weightlifting. What would he do then? Continue doing something he’s really good at but not really agreeable “with,” or pursue something he wants but never achieving the success that he wants? What would you say to him then?
Sometimes, I don’t like the things I do, and there are many qualities about myself which I don’t necessarily agree with. But I would never want to be a second-rate version of somebody else, even if I admire them profusely.

2. 这个산쟈오…
I’m not even sure what my true intentions are anymore. I know what my role is and what is appropriate and not, but I’m dancing dangerously along the edge and I’m not sure if I can even control myself. When does this stop becoming “no strings attached?” I will not let passion undermine my morality; I have more respect for myself than that.

PS: There was no appropriate place to integrate this into any of the above so I’ll just write it here.
Etter jeg kom hjem på søndag sykla Mamma, Pappa og jeg ned til en privat strand for å se på solnedgangen, grille marshmallows og feire St. Hans (Midsummer) med Hans-Ingar, Christina og Henning.
Og formiddagen idag tok vi våre kajakker ut til den samme stranden og paddla sammen med Mariëtte rundt Mellomøya og Løvøya. Det var kjampedeilig med sjokolade og bølgane.