I often find myself wondering why so many people are so obsessed with beauty, with perfection. It's something that I find very difficult to fathom. I mean, as I've said before, I too want to look good, but I don't strive for perfection. And even when people do, it's one thing striving for your own perfection, but a whole different story if you admire beautiful people merely because they're beautiful. Surely other qualities must weigh in as well, surely a person cannot be admirable just by looking good?
Being bored at work, I've come across countless blogs about fashion and beauty, some with more self-distance than others. One particular blogger often puts up pictures of women that she finds beautiful, and then goes on and on about how amazing they look and how much she admires them.
I don't even know how to express myself on this matter, but I just don't understand! How is this relevant, who gives a rat's ass and what have these people ever done to improve the world that deserves our admiration?
Looking good when you're rich and famous is not a tough quest. First of all, it's your job to look good. I, too, would spend hours at the gym every day if I didn't also have to spend 8 hours in the office. I, too, would eat healthily all the time if I had someone cook my food for me or all the money in the world to buy the best food possible. I, too, would have glowing hair and skin if I had the time and money to get all the treatments that money can buy. And I, too, could have the trendiest and most eclectic style if I had a stylist, or at least time, energy and money to spend all my time shopping.
Yet, these aren't things that I wish for. Or that's not true, I wish I could have all those things, but I'm not prepared to work for them. They're just not that important to me.
I admire people who work to end world hunger, or those who try to mediate in a conflict between countries. Those who find solutions to combat aids, human trafficking, honor crimes.
I wish I could one day be one of those people. Odds are I won't, I just the wrong field of study, but you never know.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
Whatever happened to just enjoying life?
I was watching Super fat vs. Super skinny, or whatever the heck that program is called, yesterday. In one part of the program they had a clip from LA, and they talked about how if you’re fat you have to go out outside of the city, because fat people just aren’t accepted as part of the LA population. But what was worse, I thought, was that although being pregnant is ok, carrying some baby weight after the pregnancy is not.
Women put themselves through extreme work-out regimes and diets just to get back into their size zero a few months after giving birth, risking their own health as well as their babies’.
What I don’t understand is this: How can adult women be so obsessed with their looks that they’re prepared to do almost anything to remain slim? Why is it so goddamn important to be that skinny, to look picture perfect?
I understand that most women (and men) want to look as good as they can, but seriously, there must be some kind of limit. I would rather not be obese, but I also have no desire to be a walking skeleton.
I like eating, and frankly, I think that there are much more pressing things to worry about in this world than your weight. Being healthy and active is one thing, spending all your time and energy on trying to look good is a whole different matter.
It’s selfish and quite absurd. And very much the opposite of my motto: true perfection has to be imperfect!
Women put themselves through extreme work-out regimes and diets just to get back into their size zero a few months after giving birth, risking their own health as well as their babies’.
What I don’t understand is this: How can adult women be so obsessed with their looks that they’re prepared to do almost anything to remain slim? Why is it so goddamn important to be that skinny, to look picture perfect?
I understand that most women (and men) want to look as good as they can, but seriously, there must be some kind of limit. I would rather not be obese, but I also have no desire to be a walking skeleton.
I like eating, and frankly, I think that there are much more pressing things to worry about in this world than your weight. Being healthy and active is one thing, spending all your time and energy on trying to look good is a whole different matter.
It’s selfish and quite absurd. And very much the opposite of my motto: true perfection has to be imperfect!
New start
Whatever happened to my love of writing? Whatever happened to my love of commenting on everything, all the time? Did Facebook steal my need to express myself? The status updates allows me to comment on everything I find odd, interesting, funny or disturbing, and hundreds of people can see it at the same time (even if they would probably prefer not to..).
I’ve always been very opinionated, even though I’ve rarely thought that my opinions counted for much. I still don’t, but that shouldn’t stop me from commenting. Through expressing my opinions, I can make sense of them, and the more I write about a certain matter, the more interested I become in it and consequently the more I will read up on it and the more I will learn about it and the better I will be able to write about it.
So, from now on, this blog is first of all going to be updated more frequently, and second of all it’s going to be an opinion blog. I myself find it far more interesting than writing about the boring life that I lead.
I’ve always been very opinionated, even though I’ve rarely thought that my opinions counted for much. I still don’t, but that shouldn’t stop me from commenting. Through expressing my opinions, I can make sense of them, and the more I write about a certain matter, the more interested I become in it and consequently the more I will read up on it and the more I will learn about it and the better I will be able to write about it.
So, from now on, this blog is first of all going to be updated more frequently, and second of all it’s going to be an opinion blog. I myself find it far more interesting than writing about the boring life that I lead.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
the sun has gone to bed and so must iii
So what the hell happened to summer, that's what I want to know. I mean, yeah it's great not waking up swimming in your own sweat, but this endless greyness is starting to get to me. Granted it's only lasted for about two days so far, but two day is a long time when you've gotten used to eternal sunshine. I just kind of thought that that was the way the summer was going to be now, three months of sun, blue sky, bare legs and an effortlessly built up tan, as my skin would absorb the lovely rays of sun by just living life outside.
Guess I was wrong. Guess it's not the first time. Not the first time I'm wrong, not the first time summer's weather lets me down.
But it is crazy how the weather can affect your mood. Although the air is fresher, it's easier to breath, to move, to feel clean, my happy mood quickly deteriorates when those grey clouds come out to cover the sun.
I do like rain, though, I do. Which is completely contradictory, I know, but then again, I never claimed that I wasn't a contradictory person. As a matter of fact, I think that I've said many times that I have quite a contradictive personality. And I like it.
Guess I was wrong. Guess it's not the first time. Not the first time I'm wrong, not the first time summer's weather lets me down.
But it is crazy how the weather can affect your mood. Although the air is fresher, it's easier to breath, to move, to feel clean, my happy mood quickly deteriorates when those grey clouds come out to cover the sun.
I do like rain, though, I do. Which is completely contradictory, I know, but then again, I never claimed that I wasn't a contradictory person. As a matter of fact, I think that I've said many times that I have quite a contradictive personality. And I like it.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
a triple date with england
Finally, after weeks of hoping and worrying that it might not happen, thanks to my wonderful ambassador's inability to plan ahead, I got my tickets to London and off I went last Saturday. With a slight hangover after a girls' night out the day before, I boarded the ryanair flight (and I who swore never to fly with them again...) in Västerås and arrived in London a couple of hours later. For such a short flight it's ok, but never again will I fly with ryanair if I don't really have to. This time I blame the ambassador, had I been able to book my tickets sooner I would have been confortable on a BA flight, that not only would have served me food (well, not the plane itself as we all understand) but also would have taken me to Heathrow's terminal 5, within much closer reach from Fulham, where I stayed with Michelle and Nina.
The week started off with an unexpectedly expensive Thai restaurant by the river in Putney Bridge, just a short walk from my friends' apartment. The food was lovely, but I accidentally ate a chili and consequently almost died as a result. But as I'm apparently alive to tell the tale, I guess it's safe to say that my tendency to exaggerate is making an appearance.
Sunday had a lovely trip to Brighton in store. Brighton was hot and sunny, and I did my best to soak up the sun as I had just arrived from a sun-deprived Stockholm and was in desperate need of some vitamin D. I probably should have gone easy on the sun, though, because despite not actually attempting to sun bathe, I, along with the two others, managed to burn majorly. My forehead, my arms and my neck were all bright red, although perhaps not quite as red as the others. Painful enough, though, but luckily the pain didn't set in until I'd safely returned to London.
Brighton is indeed a lovely city. Just by the beach, which unfortunately is pebbled, but nonetheless a lovely, busy beach with an abundance of bars, restaurants and touristy shops, and an even greater abundance of people. And of course, not to forget, the lovely pier where you can easily spend (or waste, rather..) a few dimes on rides and other attractions.
The cute and quirky lanes, the bohemian yet stylish people, shops and bars all make for a great city with a relaxed, friendly atmosphere. Brighton is definitely a city where I could see myself live some day. Quieter than London, yet only an hour away by train when the shopping addiction needs feeding and the spending pants come on.
London, too, of course, is indeed lovely. Busy as always, insane crowds that I sometimes had to escape for some coffee and a book in one of the parks, yet difficult not to love, and miss. Because I do miss it. But do I want to move back? That I don't know.
What I do know is that I had an amazing time with some of my greatly missed friends. Marina came in from Slovenia, Marina my favorite Marina. Audrey came for a few days. I stayed in Michelle's room on a floor on which I could not lie straight but collapsed into bed late every night anyway so didn't mind too much. Went to visit Manuela in Kingston, we went bowling and good old Annie from AZ came along too, as did Manuela's boyfriend and I kicked all of their asses. Who knew I was that good, I haven't played in 5 years.
Manuela also drove us down to Bournemouth one day, we relaxed at the beach, strolled through te gardens and the city, and most importantly, had beer at O'neill's, the one place I most associate with Bournemouth. No place has given me so many memories, and nowhere else have I had so many encounters with weirdos that still make us all laugh, years afterwards.
I ate fish and chips on the beach in Brighton, pizza slices at Leicester square, a triangle sandwich from M&S and Krispy Kreme donuts for breakfast and I drank enough beer to last me a lifetime.
I walked more than I had thought possible, I spent more money than I knew I had, I collected pebbles (that turned out to be shells..) on the beach which caused me some overweight on the plane, and I managed to pack all my new purchases without any major difficulties.
I did the Beatles walk at Abbey road and felt ridiculous and along with some other tourists I was the source of great annoyance for the many cars trying to pass by.
I am quite happy to be back home though. Sad as it was to leave, and as much as I'm going to miss all my friends again, and London too, of course, it feels quite nice to have a proper bed to sleep in, to not live in a suitcase, and to have my own apartment to move around it (closet-like as it may be).
But I will be back, this time hopefully without letting more than a year pass by. London will always be my home, and I will always feel like I'm returning home whenever I go there. Maybe one day it will be my home again, maybe it won't, but it won't really matter because it's true as they say, home is where your heart is. And my heart is definitely in London. But it's also in Sweden, and it's also true as Travis says, home is where the heart is, but my heart had to go. Right now a bigger part of my heart is in Sweden.
At least I think. But I'm known to be torn, and indecisive to add to that. Which is why I've decided not to make any decisions anymore, but to just take things as they come.
The end.
The week started off with an unexpectedly expensive Thai restaurant by the river in Putney Bridge, just a short walk from my friends' apartment. The food was lovely, but I accidentally ate a chili and consequently almost died as a result. But as I'm apparently alive to tell the tale, I guess it's safe to say that my tendency to exaggerate is making an appearance.
Sunday had a lovely trip to Brighton in store. Brighton was hot and sunny, and I did my best to soak up the sun as I had just arrived from a sun-deprived Stockholm and was in desperate need of some vitamin D. I probably should have gone easy on the sun, though, because despite not actually attempting to sun bathe, I, along with the two others, managed to burn majorly. My forehead, my arms and my neck were all bright red, although perhaps not quite as red as the others. Painful enough, though, but luckily the pain didn't set in until I'd safely returned to London.
Brighton is indeed a lovely city. Just by the beach, which unfortunately is pebbled, but nonetheless a lovely, busy beach with an abundance of bars, restaurants and touristy shops, and an even greater abundance of people. And of course, not to forget, the lovely pier where you can easily spend (or waste, rather..) a few dimes on rides and other attractions.
The cute and quirky lanes, the bohemian yet stylish people, shops and bars all make for a great city with a relaxed, friendly atmosphere. Brighton is definitely a city where I could see myself live some day. Quieter than London, yet only an hour away by train when the shopping addiction needs feeding and the spending pants come on.
London, too, of course, is indeed lovely. Busy as always, insane crowds that I sometimes had to escape for some coffee and a book in one of the parks, yet difficult not to love, and miss. Because I do miss it. But do I want to move back? That I don't know.
What I do know is that I had an amazing time with some of my greatly missed friends. Marina came in from Slovenia, Marina my favorite Marina. Audrey came for a few days. I stayed in Michelle's room on a floor on which I could not lie straight but collapsed into bed late every night anyway so didn't mind too much. Went to visit Manuela in Kingston, we went bowling and good old Annie from AZ came along too, as did Manuela's boyfriend and I kicked all of their asses. Who knew I was that good, I haven't played in 5 years.
Manuela also drove us down to Bournemouth one day, we relaxed at the beach, strolled through te gardens and the city, and most importantly, had beer at O'neill's, the one place I most associate with Bournemouth. No place has given me so many memories, and nowhere else have I had so many encounters with weirdos that still make us all laugh, years afterwards.
I ate fish and chips on the beach in Brighton, pizza slices at Leicester square, a triangle sandwich from M&S and Krispy Kreme donuts for breakfast and I drank enough beer to last me a lifetime.
I walked more than I had thought possible, I spent more money than I knew I had, I collected pebbles (that turned out to be shells..) on the beach which caused me some overweight on the plane, and I managed to pack all my new purchases without any major difficulties.
I did the Beatles walk at Abbey road and felt ridiculous and along with some other tourists I was the source of great annoyance for the many cars trying to pass by.
I am quite happy to be back home though. Sad as it was to leave, and as much as I'm going to miss all my friends again, and London too, of course, it feels quite nice to have a proper bed to sleep in, to not live in a suitcase, and to have my own apartment to move around it (closet-like as it may be).
But I will be back, this time hopefully without letting more than a year pass by. London will always be my home, and I will always feel like I'm returning home whenever I go there. Maybe one day it will be my home again, maybe it won't, but it won't really matter because it's true as they say, home is where your heart is. And my heart is definitely in London. But it's also in Sweden, and it's also true as Travis says, home is where the heart is, but my heart had to go. Right now a bigger part of my heart is in Sweden.
At least I think. But I'm known to be torn, and indecisive to add to that. Which is why I've decided not to make any decisions anymore, but to just take things as they come.
The end.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Therapy blogging?
It seems as though I only blog when I’m depressed, or at least feeling a bit down. When I’m dreaming of better days, a different life, more excitement, more things to be proud of. When I’m content with the way my life is going, when I’m busy being fabulous, blogging is definitely not on my top ten list.
I’m finding this rather odd, though. Surely one would be more eager to share the good aspect of one’s life, rather than the dull parts that you really want to escape from? But then blogging for me isn’t about bragging about my über cool and awesome life, about the trendy bars that I go to and how culturally enlightened I’m trying to be. It’s more a form of therapy, of untangling the messy thoughts in my head and trying to make some kind of sense of them.
Right now life is pretty good, though, and I feel no need to analyze and question everything. I’ve sort of landed in some kind of live-in-the-moment feeling, what ever happens happens, life doesn’t always turn out the way you expect, make the best of what you have and yadaya.
I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t know where I’m going to be in October, let alone in a year. It could be here, it could be in London, in Brussels, anywhere. And I don’t care. I’ll be wherever it’s meant for me to be. I’m just enjoying today, trying not to think too much about the future. Just waiting to see what life is going to throw my way.
All I know is that right now I adore Stockholm and its amazing beauty. Summer (or I guess it’s still spring, although today seems to think otherwise) has definitely done wonders to this city.
I feel more and more at home here. Now all I need is a better place to live. Living in a closet kind of gets to you sometimes. Luckily I’m not home that much. But when I am home, I seem to have a strange tendency to always have guests staying over. My apartment definitely is not made for two people. It’s not even big enough for half of me. And it’s definitely not big enough for my clothes. It would make for the perfect walk-in closet though. One can always dream.
I’m finding this rather odd, though. Surely one would be more eager to share the good aspect of one’s life, rather than the dull parts that you really want to escape from? But then blogging for me isn’t about bragging about my über cool and awesome life, about the trendy bars that I go to and how culturally enlightened I’m trying to be. It’s more a form of therapy, of untangling the messy thoughts in my head and trying to make some kind of sense of them.
Right now life is pretty good, though, and I feel no need to analyze and question everything. I’ve sort of landed in some kind of live-in-the-moment feeling, what ever happens happens, life doesn’t always turn out the way you expect, make the best of what you have and yadaya.
I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t know where I’m going to be in October, let alone in a year. It could be here, it could be in London, in Brussels, anywhere. And I don’t care. I’ll be wherever it’s meant for me to be. I’m just enjoying today, trying not to think too much about the future. Just waiting to see what life is going to throw my way.
All I know is that right now I adore Stockholm and its amazing beauty. Summer (or I guess it’s still spring, although today seems to think otherwise) has definitely done wonders to this city.
I feel more and more at home here. Now all I need is a better place to live. Living in a closet kind of gets to you sometimes. Luckily I’m not home that much. But when I am home, I seem to have a strange tendency to always have guests staying over. My apartment definitely is not made for two people. It’s not even big enough for half of me. And it’s definitely not big enough for my clothes. It would make for the perfect walk-in closet though. One can always dream.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
The secret life of Sundbyberg
You never really see a lot of people on the streets in the Stockholm suburb where I live, Sundbyberg. What you do see, though, is a million restaurants that most of the time look completely deserted, and I've often wondered on on earth so many restaurants can survive in such a small town. Today I found the answer. I'm sick and home from work, and for the first time since I moved here I have today experienced Sundbyberg by day. Or should I say, by weekday. Expecting it to be even emptier than normal, I obviously made no effort to look good. After all I have a fever, a headache and a sore throat, and was just going to the supermarket for some food, a movie and some ice cream, and I really did not look good.
But unexpectedly the town was full of people. Where they came from I will never know. It wasn't even noon, and yet all these people were heading out for lunch, filling up the otherwise so empty restaurants and all looking very businesslike. And here I was thinking that Sundbyberg is a place where people live, not a place where they work. Apparently it's the opposite. Where are all these people when I get home after work?
I liked seeing all these people, it made this little shithole seem somewhat more alive, but I just wish they'd chosen to show their faces on a day when I looked a bit more like my usual self.
But unexpectedly the town was full of people. Where they came from I will never know. It wasn't even noon, and yet all these people were heading out for lunch, filling up the otherwise so empty restaurants and all looking very businesslike. And here I was thinking that Sundbyberg is a place where people live, not a place where they work. Apparently it's the opposite. Where are all these people when I get home after work?
I liked seeing all these people, it made this little shithole seem somewhat more alive, but I just wish they'd chosen to show their faces on a day when I looked a bit more like my usual self.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
blogging hiatus..
So, it's been a while. Not that it matters, no one really reads this, except perhaps for my mom and maybe a handful of friends. Nonetheless, I like writing here, it keeps me entertained for a moment or two and if nothing else I get to practice my already pretty perfected touch-typing.
I've been in Malmö since Tuesday night, and tomorrow I have to go back to Stockholm and I'm really not ready for it. I like Stockholm and for a long time I've been saying that I certainly don't want to leave Stockholm until I've at least experienced one summer there. But I've had such a good time these past days, I had been longing for this for a really long time. My work really doesn't demand a lot from me, but being stuck in an office with nothing to do can make you feel just as trapped as being swamped.
The weather since I came home has been perfect. Sweden has gone from being a place almost uninhabitable only a few weeks ago, to something closely resembling paradise. It's not summer yet, but most definitely spring. Around 15 degrees every day, and since I got home the sun has been shining more or less the whole time. Today I've spent the whole day in the backyard, and burned my nose along with pretty much the rest of my face. I don't care, though, because I don't know when I'll next get to spend a day in a backyard.
Soon I'll be back in my closet of an apartment with windows that are admittedly facing the sun around the time when I get home from work, but which definitely lacks a balcony and a nice view to go with it.
But going back to work on Tuesday will be a lot easier after these wonderful days. I've met everyone I wanted to meet, including my friend's newborn baby, I've gone shopping, I've kicked back with some wine and a good book in the garden, I've had a lovely dinner at a Caribbean restaurant with possibly the best Mojitos I've ever had, and I've somehow managed to accumulate 10 pairs of shoes that one way or another have to make it back to Stockholm with me. Some new, some old and some that I brought with me here and which consequently have to travel back with me too.
That is one thing that I won't complain about, though, because shoes I have been needing for a long time. Boots are now a distant memory, or so I dearly hope. If I have to one more time stick my feet into a pair of warm leather boots I might just have to go jump off a bridge!
I've been in Malmö since Tuesday night, and tomorrow I have to go back to Stockholm and I'm really not ready for it. I like Stockholm and for a long time I've been saying that I certainly don't want to leave Stockholm until I've at least experienced one summer there. But I've had such a good time these past days, I had been longing for this for a really long time. My work really doesn't demand a lot from me, but being stuck in an office with nothing to do can make you feel just as trapped as being swamped.
The weather since I came home has been perfect. Sweden has gone from being a place almost uninhabitable only a few weeks ago, to something closely resembling paradise. It's not summer yet, but most definitely spring. Around 15 degrees every day, and since I got home the sun has been shining more or less the whole time. Today I've spent the whole day in the backyard, and burned my nose along with pretty much the rest of my face. I don't care, though, because I don't know when I'll next get to spend a day in a backyard.
Soon I'll be back in my closet of an apartment with windows that are admittedly facing the sun around the time when I get home from work, but which definitely lacks a balcony and a nice view to go with it.
But going back to work on Tuesday will be a lot easier after these wonderful days. I've met everyone I wanted to meet, including my friend's newborn baby, I've gone shopping, I've kicked back with some wine and a good book in the garden, I've had a lovely dinner at a Caribbean restaurant with possibly the best Mojitos I've ever had, and I've somehow managed to accumulate 10 pairs of shoes that one way or another have to make it back to Stockholm with me. Some new, some old and some that I brought with me here and which consequently have to travel back with me too.
That is one thing that I won't complain about, though, because shoes I have been needing for a long time. Boots are now a distant memory, or so I dearly hope. If I have to one more time stick my feet into a pair of warm leather boots I might just have to go jump off a bridge!
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
One week from now
give or take a couple of minutes, my train will be pulling into Malmö central station, and I'm so excited I might vomit. (classic Chandler quote if you didn't know. If you didn't, you probably need to watch more Friends)
I'm looking forward to drinking beer in Copenhagen, to seeing my friend's little baby, to living in a proper house for a while, to having someone cook for me (hint hint mommy..), to taking a long walk in the woods and to just doing nothing. I think some shopping in Malmö can be expected too, doing it in Copenhagen would be madness right now, what with the weak Swedish krona and all.
I've said it before and I'll say it again. Fuck what the people want, what to they know? Why did we even have a referendum in the first place? We wouldn't be where we are now if we hadn't. Now we have to have another one, because we are a democracy and anything else would be disrespecting the voice of the people. Still, it really can't be said enough; introduce the euro in Sweden!
I'm looking forward to drinking beer in Copenhagen, to seeing my friend's little baby, to living in a proper house for a while, to having someone cook for me (hint hint mommy..), to taking a long walk in the woods and to just doing nothing. I think some shopping in Malmö can be expected too, doing it in Copenhagen would be madness right now, what with the weak Swedish krona and all.
I've said it before and I'll say it again. Fuck what the people want, what to they know? Why did we even have a referendum in the first place? We wouldn't be where we are now if we hadn't. Now we have to have another one, because we are a democracy and anything else would be disrespecting the voice of the people. Still, it really can't be said enough; introduce the euro in Sweden!
Maybe I'll stay
So I was thinking. I've been working at my current job for pretty much exactly six months. Six months that have passed by rather swiftly, despite it being the most depressing time of year and despite my being bored half to death most of the time.
I have a one year contract, which will end on October 1st, I believe. I want to spend the summer in Stockholm anyway, because I've always wanted to try it, Stockholm really is amazingly beautiful in the summer. And since I haven't yet decided whether I want to stay in Stockholm, or whether I want to move somewhere else (Malmö, London), I'm thinking that perhaps I should just endure these coming six months and then go from there.
I could take my two weeks off in August to go to Boston and New York just like I planned, and I'd get to experience what it's like working at an embassy in Sweden when Sweden has the EU presidency. 1st October really is just when things start getting worse again, weatherwise I mean. Until then Stockholm will be a pretty neat place to live. And I will have my new, higher salary and will be able to enjoy Stockholm life better. More money, more sunshine, I think I really can't say no to that.
I have a lot to look forward to, for once. In a week, I'm going home to Malmö for easter, something that I'm VERY excited about. Then a few weeks later, Michelle is coming to visit, and after that perhaps Annie. And then I'm going to Düsseldorf to visit my Spanish friend Mercedes, who I met in Arizona when I studied there, and perhaps some of the other people will come too. Then it's the Bruce Springsteen concert in June, and hopefully I'll also go on a little trip to London in June, together with Marina and perhaps Audrey, to visit the people who still live there. And then, in August, I will visit Misha in Boston and together we will travel down to New York, where she has a friend.
With all these plans, I don't think I should be leaving neither Stockholm nor my job. I'll just stay here for a year, which was the original plan after all, and then I'll just have to wait and see what live throws my way. All things considered, my life feels pretty damn good right now.
I have a one year contract, which will end on October 1st, I believe. I want to spend the summer in Stockholm anyway, because I've always wanted to try it, Stockholm really is amazingly beautiful in the summer. And since I haven't yet decided whether I want to stay in Stockholm, or whether I want to move somewhere else (Malmö, London), I'm thinking that perhaps I should just endure these coming six months and then go from there.
I could take my two weeks off in August to go to Boston and New York just like I planned, and I'd get to experience what it's like working at an embassy in Sweden when Sweden has the EU presidency. 1st October really is just when things start getting worse again, weatherwise I mean. Until then Stockholm will be a pretty neat place to live. And I will have my new, higher salary and will be able to enjoy Stockholm life better. More money, more sunshine, I think I really can't say no to that.
I have a lot to look forward to, for once. In a week, I'm going home to Malmö for easter, something that I'm VERY excited about. Then a few weeks later, Michelle is coming to visit, and after that perhaps Annie. And then I'm going to Düsseldorf to visit my Spanish friend Mercedes, who I met in Arizona when I studied there, and perhaps some of the other people will come too. Then it's the Bruce Springsteen concert in June, and hopefully I'll also go on a little trip to London in June, together with Marina and perhaps Audrey, to visit the people who still live there. And then, in August, I will visit Misha in Boston and together we will travel down to New York, where she has a friend.
With all these plans, I don't think I should be leaving neither Stockholm nor my job. I'll just stay here for a year, which was the original plan after all, and then I'll just have to wait and see what live throws my way. All things considered, my life feels pretty damn good right now.
Monday, March 30, 2009
So much for being healthy
Today I paid the English Shop in Söderhallarna another visit. I picked up a small easter egg, a creme egg, mini eggs and some McCoy's flame grilled steak chips. And I'm working my way through it all at quite a fast pace. I adore easter in general, and English easter eggs in particular. Thick, creamy, hollow chocolate eggs, preferably Cadbury beat a normal chocolate bar any day.
My first easter in England was spent over-indulging in these easter eggs. I probably put on a couple of kilos only because of this. I was completely obsessed with these eggs, and one day I even had an entire egg for breakfast. Luckily I think I'm over that initial obsession and can now have a somewhat healthy relationship with the chocolate eggs. But that doesn't mean that I don't once in a while treat myself to a couple, after all easter only comes once a year.
My first easter in England was spent over-indulging in these easter eggs. I probably put on a couple of kilos only because of this. I was completely obsessed with these eggs, and one day I even had an entire egg for breakfast. Luckily I think I'm over that initial obsession and can now have a somewhat healthy relationship with the chocolate eggs. But that doesn't mean that I don't once in a while treat myself to a couple, after all easter only comes once a year.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
In a slow part of town
I had a date yesterday, or what could very well have been a date if it had been with someone other than my friend Ida. Dinner and a movie. Very datish. But it also makes for a good evening with one of your best friends.
I'd reserved a table for us at Nhu's, which is supposedly the best budget thai restaurant in town. It's located in a part of Södermalm called Hornstull, a trendy area that I know little about. All I know is that from what I've seen of it, it looks everything but trendy, it's grey and industrial looking and definitely does not look much to the world. I must have missed something because apparently it's full of trendy bars and cafés.
From my experience, it's just a very slow part of town. Traffic lights take forever to turn green, and when I say forever, I really mean forever. Waiting for five minutes at a red light just isn't acceptable. The restaurant, too, was slow. Appallingly bad service, it took half an hour for us even to get our drinks on the table. And not only was the waitress slow, she also wasn't very friendly. Not once during the evening did I see her smile. And for a budget restaurant, it really was very expensive. Perhaps it's just me, but I don't think that paying 170 kronor (17 euro) for a main course is very budgety.
The food was good, though, but not more amazing than any other thai food I've had for that price.
After dinner, we headed back to Medis to catch a movie, Confessions of a shopaholic. It was alright, not exactly high quality stuff, but that wasn't what I expected or wanted. Sometimes a good chick flick is all you need. And it didn't hurt that Hugh Dancy, who played Luke, is very easy on the eye either... http://www.imdb.com/media/rm729061888/nm0199215
Now it's once again Sunday night. And we have lost a whole hour today. Thankfully something good will come out of it. But heaven knows I'm not looking forward to going to work tomorrow. Hopefully a new job is on the horizon. If only the horizon didn't seem so out of reach.
I'd reserved a table for us at Nhu's, which is supposedly the best budget thai restaurant in town. It's located in a part of Södermalm called Hornstull, a trendy area that I know little about. All I know is that from what I've seen of it, it looks everything but trendy, it's grey and industrial looking and definitely does not look much to the world. I must have missed something because apparently it's full of trendy bars and cafés.
From my experience, it's just a very slow part of town. Traffic lights take forever to turn green, and when I say forever, I really mean forever. Waiting for five minutes at a red light just isn't acceptable. The restaurant, too, was slow. Appallingly bad service, it took half an hour for us even to get our drinks on the table. And not only was the waitress slow, she also wasn't very friendly. Not once during the evening did I see her smile. And for a budget restaurant, it really was very expensive. Perhaps it's just me, but I don't think that paying 170 kronor (17 euro) for a main course is very budgety.
The food was good, though, but not more amazing than any other thai food I've had for that price.
After dinner, we headed back to Medis to catch a movie, Confessions of a shopaholic. It was alright, not exactly high quality stuff, but that wasn't what I expected or wanted. Sometimes a good chick flick is all you need. And it didn't hurt that Hugh Dancy, who played Luke, is very easy on the eye either... http://www.imdb.com/media/rm729061888/nm0199215
Now it's once again Sunday night. And we have lost a whole hour today. Thankfully something good will come out of it. But heaven knows I'm not looking forward to going to work tomorrow. Hopefully a new job is on the horizon. If only the horizon didn't seem so out of reach.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
One lovely spring day
First, we took a ferry from Slussen/Old Town to Djurgården. It's a really beautiful ride, and since yesterday was the first time the weather permitted us to sit outside, I took the opportunity to take some pictures of the beautiful surroundings. Unfortunately blogger is playing up and won't let me move the pictures around, so the will appear in a bit of a random order.
Södermalm, the old working quarters. It may not look much to the eye, but to me it's beautiful. Walking down those cobbled streets, you can almost imagine what it was like living there a hundred years ago.
Once we reached Djurgården, we found a small bridge where we sat down to enjoy the sunshine and have some coffee. It was slightly cold, but the coffee did its best to warm up our frozen bodies.
I sure don't look very warm, and I felt rather like an elderly woman with my home-brewed coffee in a thermos and a home made sponge cake to go with it.
Ida preferred some tea... And left her mittens on.
The ice was still pretty thick, but was definitely melting. We had a good time trying to make holes with our feet, but were too scared to put our entire body weight on it. This little bird evidently was not.
Another picture taken from the ferry, of one of my favorite streets in Stockholm. These quarters are the opposite of Södermalm, this is where the posh and rich people live. And where I work. The street is called Strandvägen, and it's absolutely gorgeous. I like this part of town too, Östermalm it's called. As a moved in Stockholmer, I'm allowed to like all parts of town. If you're born and raised here, I think you have to take your pick. You're either a Söder och Östermalm girl. I'm both and neither.
The Vasa Museum and another museum which I believe to be the Nordic museum, but I could be wrong. Another picture taken from the ferry.
Also from the ferry. This is Slussen, the first part of Södermalm that you come across if you walk from the city to old town. It's worn down and dirty, but it has its charm. I like it, and I'm worried that all the grand plans that are being made for its future will take away its charm and history.
Södermalm, the old working quarters. It may not look much to the eye, but to me it's beautiful. Walking down those cobbled streets, you can almost imagine what it was like living there a hundred years ago.
Once we reached Djurgården, we found a small bridge where we sat down to enjoy the sunshine and have some coffee. It was slightly cold, but the coffee did its best to warm up our frozen bodies.
I sure don't look very warm, and I felt rather like an elderly woman with my home-brewed coffee in a thermos and a home made sponge cake to go with it.
Ida preferred some tea... And left her mittens on.
The ice was still pretty thick, but was definitely melting. We had a good time trying to make holes with our feet, but were too scared to put our entire body weight on it. This little bird evidently was not.
Another picture taken from the ferry, of one of my favorite streets in Stockholm. These quarters are the opposite of Södermalm, this is where the posh and rich people live. And where I work. The street is called Strandvägen, and it's absolutely gorgeous. I like this part of town too, Östermalm it's called. As a moved in Stockholmer, I'm allowed to like all parts of town. If you're born and raised here, I think you have to take your pick. You're either a Söder och Östermalm girl. I'm both and neither.
The Vasa Museum and another museum which I believe to be the Nordic museum, but I could be wrong. Another picture taken from the ferry.
Also from the ferry. This is Slussen, the first part of Södermalm that you come across if you walk from the city to old town. It's worn down and dirty, but it has its charm. I like it, and I'm worried that all the grand plans that are being made for its future will take away its charm and history.
Unfortunately, days like yesterday are few and far between. Today got off to a good start, but the weather quickly deteriorated, and just as I was heading out to buy dinner, it started to snow. And as it did, the love for Stockholm that I felt yesterday quickly turned into utter disgust.
I think it's safe to say that you'd be hard-pressed to find a more depressing view than this right now:
Wanting everything and nothing at the same time
I like Stockholm, especially when the sun is shining. I think I could like it even more if I had a job I enjoyed, more money and less studying to do. I dislike the fact that Stockholm is so far north that winter is eternally long, I wish Stockholm had markets to go to and I wish I had more time to do all the things I want to do.
I adore London, no matter where I end up living in the future, London will always be my second home and I will always miss it, despite the poor living standards. Now I might have an opportunity to move back there, and I can't decide whether to go for it or now, if I'm given the opportunity. Granted, I have no idea if anything will actually come out of this opportunity, and if it doesn't, I'm not sure if I'd go on applying for other jobs myself. Because if I do, I'd be making a conscious choice to leave Stockholm and the people I know here.
And why would I want to leave some of my best friends voluntarily?
I'm also tempted to move back to Malmö, to live a settled down life and have Sunday dinner with my mom every week. But truth be told, I know that I wouldn't be happy in Malmö in the long run. Yes my mom lives there, and another one of my best friends, but that's about it. Right now one of my best friends from uni is living there too, but I'm pretty sure she won't be staying too long.
Why does a part of me want a fancy career in London, and another a settled down life in Malmö, while a third part of me just wants to stay where I am right now, albeit with another job? And why does it feel like no matter what I finally decide to do, I'll be letting someone down? And why is it so hard to know what is the right thing to do?
Guess there's no point in worrying before I know anything, but it's really hard not to. It's hard being a grown-up, I wish someone could just tell me what to do and what would make me happy. Then again, as soon as someone does try to tell me what to do, it annoys the hell out of me, so I guess I'm better off making my own decisions. But still, it's pretty damn hard.
I adore London, no matter where I end up living in the future, London will always be my second home and I will always miss it, despite the poor living standards. Now I might have an opportunity to move back there, and I can't decide whether to go for it or now, if I'm given the opportunity. Granted, I have no idea if anything will actually come out of this opportunity, and if it doesn't, I'm not sure if I'd go on applying for other jobs myself. Because if I do, I'd be making a conscious choice to leave Stockholm and the people I know here.
And why would I want to leave some of my best friends voluntarily?
I'm also tempted to move back to Malmö, to live a settled down life and have Sunday dinner with my mom every week. But truth be told, I know that I wouldn't be happy in Malmö in the long run. Yes my mom lives there, and another one of my best friends, but that's about it. Right now one of my best friends from uni is living there too, but I'm pretty sure she won't be staying too long.
Why does a part of me want a fancy career in London, and another a settled down life in Malmö, while a third part of me just wants to stay where I am right now, albeit with another job? And why does it feel like no matter what I finally decide to do, I'll be letting someone down? And why is it so hard to know what is the right thing to do?
Guess there's no point in worrying before I know anything, but it's really hard not to. It's hard being a grown-up, I wish someone could just tell me what to do and what would make me happy. Then again, as soon as someone does try to tell me what to do, it annoys the hell out of me, so I guess I'm better off making my own decisions. But still, it's pretty damn hard.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Stockholm spring
Spring has definitely come to Stockholm. It's not as warm as one might wish, nor is it as sunny, but it's a far cry from the past months' snowy winter weather. In celebration of spring's dawdling arrival I went out for a jog this morning, and it actually felt better than I thought it would, if you don't consider the fact that I almost passed out when I finally stopped, after running up a hill. I bent over to tie my shoelaces, and all of a sudden the world started spinning. It passed quickly, though, and I could soon continue my walk home.
Now I've just baked a cake, and I'm going to make some coffee to put in a thermos, and then I'm meeting up with a friend for a celebratory spring picknick in the park. I don't think it's actually warm enough for a picknick, my thermometer says it's 10 degrees, but it faces the sun, which is admittedly hidden by some light clouds, so is probably not completely trustworthy.
Nevertheless, a picknick we are going to have, even if it means being covered up in coats and scarves and freezing half to death. I'm determined to live life as though it were spring with the motto, fake it till you make it. If I fake it long enough, spring will indubitably be upon us before we know it, am I right? And I'll have my coffee to warm me up if my plan, contrary to expectations, fails...
Now I've just baked a cake, and I'm going to make some coffee to put in a thermos, and then I'm meeting up with a friend for a celebratory spring picknick in the park. I don't think it's actually warm enough for a picknick, my thermometer says it's 10 degrees, but it faces the sun, which is admittedly hidden by some light clouds, so is probably not completely trustworthy.
Nevertheless, a picknick we are going to have, even if it means being covered up in coats and scarves and freezing half to death. I'm determined to live life as though it were spring with the motto, fake it till you make it. If I fake it long enough, spring will indubitably be upon us before we know it, am I right? And I'll have my coffee to warm me up if my plan, contrary to expectations, fails...
Friday, March 20, 2009
Believing in myself?
Although I know that my English isn't bad, I also don't think it's all that great. There are far too many words that I don't know and when entering unknown territory, I sometimes find it hard to express myself. To be fair though, the same thing happens in Swedish.
But I'm constantly amazed at the mistakes that other people make, grammatical mistakes, spelling mistakes. Mistakes that are obvious and easily spotted. Even people who've lived in English speaking countries for a long time, and sometimes even native English speakers themselves.
I'm not trying to point out how bad other people are at using the English language correctly, I'm just trying to convince myself that perhaps my English is better than what I give myself credit for. Perhaps with some training I COULD be a full-time writer in an English speaking country.
Oh to live in Notting Hill...
But I'm constantly amazed at the mistakes that other people make, grammatical mistakes, spelling mistakes. Mistakes that are obvious and easily spotted. Even people who've lived in English speaking countries for a long time, and sometimes even native English speakers themselves.
I'm not trying to point out how bad other people are at using the English language correctly, I'm just trying to convince myself that perhaps my English is better than what I give myself credit for. Perhaps with some training I COULD be a full-time writer in an English speaking country.
Oh to live in Notting Hill...
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Changes don't come easily...
For many years I've stubbornly stuck to my quasi-American accent, for no particular reason other than that it just felt more like me, and it still does. It has definitely gone through different stages, improved and gotten worse throughout the years, but it has never ceased to be more American than anything else. During my time in England, at least when I spent time with real Brits, my accent suddenly turned very Swedish, as I somehow felt the need to hide my American accent, but I also couldn't bring myself to adopt a British one. The American accent had just stuck by me for so long, it had become a part of me.
I first wanted to have an American accent because I was insanely in love with Nick Carter from the Backstreet Boys, and since they were all American, I wanted to be too. Why, I will never know. Nonetheless, I still have them to thank for my interest in the English language, and I probably wouldn't be so interested in it now if it hadn't been for those crazy teenybopper years.
Despite everything, I'm now starting to change my mind. If I do ever move back to London, I'm going to do my very best to adopt a British accent, and I'm going to start using British spelling instead of American, even though I think they over-complicate things far too much. Why all these extra u:s?
Although I think I will always identify more with the American society in general, and though I still dream of moving there one day, I do think that I would stand a better chance of integrating into the British society if at least I tried to speak like them, however unsuccessfully.
With that said, I'm now off to start practicing my caaaan'ts, banaaaanas and tomaaatoes!
I first wanted to have an American accent because I was insanely in love with Nick Carter from the Backstreet Boys, and since they were all American, I wanted to be too. Why, I will never know. Nonetheless, I still have them to thank for my interest in the English language, and I probably wouldn't be so interested in it now if it hadn't been for those crazy teenybopper years.
Despite everything, I'm now starting to change my mind. If I do ever move back to London, I'm going to do my very best to adopt a British accent, and I'm going to start using British spelling instead of American, even though I think they over-complicate things far too much. Why all these extra u:s?
Although I think I will always identify more with the American society in general, and though I still dream of moving there one day, I do think that I would stand a better chance of integrating into the British society if at least I tried to speak like them, however unsuccessfully.
With that said, I'm now off to start practicing my caaaan'ts, banaaaanas and tomaaatoes!
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Unnecessary irritation?
On dn.se, a Swedish news site, there's a woman who writes about code of conduct and anything related to behavior toward others. People can write in and ask questions or just comment on issues that they've been thinking about. Now this one girl wrote in, complaining about having to put up with another woman putting on makeup on the train. According to her this was public space, and such things as putting on makeup should strictly be done in the private sphere of your own house (or possibly a public restroom). I don't understand this problem. What harm could putting on some makeup possibly do? I much prefer this to people eating smelly food or with their mouths open, or people listening to loud music or talking too loudly on the phone. But applying some makeup, unless the woman spilled her powder all over me, would not bother me the slightest. I probably wouldn't do it myself, I look too horrendous to be seen in public before I've put on my mask, and I also think I'd feel a little uncomfortable being stared at while applying my makeup. Not to mention the general bumpiness that you have to endure on a train or a bus, I have a hard enough time getting an even result when the surface I'm standing on isn't moving!
I think people need to find better things to worry about, than if someone who was perhaps running a bit late was putting on makeup on a train.
I think people need to find better things to worry about, than if someone who was perhaps running a bit late was putting on makeup on a train.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Spring is in the air
I hate my job, I'm fat, my hair is funny looking at the moment, I have bad skin, I hardly have any friends, I'm constantly broke and I never have time to do anything because I always work out, go to French lessons, political meetings or have to study.
BUT none of that matters because SPRING IS HERE! It's not warm but the sun is shining, this morning it was raining (as opposed to snowing) and I can just feel it in the air. It smells like spring!
And I just ordered spring clothes from H&M and I'm already picturing myself strutting down the streets in my new skirts and funky shoes.
All is good now, winter is a thing of the past and the ungainly coats can soon be tucked away, not to be seen again until October. I like it, I like it!
BUT none of that matters because SPRING IS HERE! It's not warm but the sun is shining, this morning it was raining (as opposed to snowing) and I can just feel it in the air. It smells like spring!
And I just ordered spring clothes from H&M and I'm already picturing myself strutting down the streets in my new skirts and funky shoes.
All is good now, winter is a thing of the past and the ungainly coats can soon be tucked away, not to be seen again until October. I like it, I like it!
Sunday, March 15, 2009
A walking contradition
I think that one of the reasons why I haven't gotten further in my career at the ripe age of 26 is that I want everything and nothing at the same time, that I keep changing my mind as to what I want to do, and because of the antagonism between the deep and meaningful, and the shallow and fun. One day I want to be a human rights activist, fighting for everybody's right to enjoy the same life no matter where they live. The next day I want to be a PR exec, having cocktails at fancy bars and organizing media events. And how can you ever develop, advance in your career, if your two sides are pulling in two completely different directions?
Sometimes it bothers me that I will never change the world. And I think that having a job that means nothing, that's just about having fun, would be completely meaningless. That I should be helping those worse off, kids suffering in Africa, women suffering in Arab countries, etc etc etc. And I would enjoy doing that, I would, but at the same time I'm too scared to just go off to Africa and help out. I mean what would I do and how could I provide for myself? A girl's gotta eat!
And sometimes I feel like having a superficial media job wouldn't be so bad, after all. I mean after all, what's wrong with being just a little selfish, at least when it comes to the job that you do? I'm not a selfish person in general, on the contrary I think I'm one of the least selfish people I know, always trying to be there for everyone that needs me. So why then not just have a fun, stupid job that I enjoy? That's about material things such as clothes and good wine? About enjoying yourself while you can?
And who's to say that you can't combine the two?
Not that I know if the media industry is really one I want to enter into. Or I do, I know I do, ideally I'd write for a living, but I know that that's a dream next to impossible to achieve.
I love politics, and I started to get involved politically here in Sweden, thinking that I would one day become a politician. I was so enthusiastic about this, for all of... I don't know, five minutes? Then I had my mind set on something else for a minute or two, only to move on the the next dream. And only to realize that I don't know if I want to live here. But why don't I? There's nothing wrong with Stockholm.
There is something wrong with my life in Stockholm, though. I've never had so few friends, and done so little in my free time. I'm not taking advantage of what Stockholm has to offer, because one, I don't have the money to, two, I don't have the time to, and three, I don't have the people to do it with. And I don't know what makes me think that this would be different some place else?
I don't know, I think I've just been unable to connect with Stockholm. There's really nothing that ties me to Stockholm, no family, no memories and hardly any friends. With London it was different, I came to London as a 19-year-old and I created memories there, that I later came back to when I'd finished uni. And I know that I can create memories here too, but sometimes I think I'm just too old. I mean I can't see myself meeting new people in the near future; I never go out so I don't meet people that way and I work with only middle aged men. Then again, I don't know that many people in London these days either, a lot of people have moved back to their respective countries. But I do know more people than I know here, and I do know people who all know a lot of other people. Here my circle of friends consists of about 3 people and perhaps a couple of their friends occationally, but that's it.
Even Malmö seems like a better place to be. At least I have something that ties me to Malmö, family, old friends. Good friends. Perhaps Stockholm is just too in between for me? It's not the comfort of what I've always known, but it's also not the exciting and challenging. Perhaps it's just the fact that I feel really lonely here. I live alone and I almost work alone, and rarely see people. Back home in Malmö, if I didn't have anything to do one weekend, I could always go home to my mom. Here I have no one. And in London I always lived with people, thus there were always people around me. Here, it's just me.
And although I am very independent and even sometimes a bit of a hermit, I do like to have people around me. And I know that I'm restless and always want to move on to something better, but this time it's not about that so much as wanting to have a life, a career, friends. At least one or the other. Right now I have nothing. I don't need everything, but I also don't need nothing. No one needs nothing. Everyone needs something. Where's my something?
Sometimes it bothers me that I will never change the world. And I think that having a job that means nothing, that's just about having fun, would be completely meaningless. That I should be helping those worse off, kids suffering in Africa, women suffering in Arab countries, etc etc etc. And I would enjoy doing that, I would, but at the same time I'm too scared to just go off to Africa and help out. I mean what would I do and how could I provide for myself? A girl's gotta eat!
And sometimes I feel like having a superficial media job wouldn't be so bad, after all. I mean after all, what's wrong with being just a little selfish, at least when it comes to the job that you do? I'm not a selfish person in general, on the contrary I think I'm one of the least selfish people I know, always trying to be there for everyone that needs me. So why then not just have a fun, stupid job that I enjoy? That's about material things such as clothes and good wine? About enjoying yourself while you can?
And who's to say that you can't combine the two?
Not that I know if the media industry is really one I want to enter into. Or I do, I know I do, ideally I'd write for a living, but I know that that's a dream next to impossible to achieve.
I love politics, and I started to get involved politically here in Sweden, thinking that I would one day become a politician. I was so enthusiastic about this, for all of... I don't know, five minutes? Then I had my mind set on something else for a minute or two, only to move on the the next dream. And only to realize that I don't know if I want to live here. But why don't I? There's nothing wrong with Stockholm.
There is something wrong with my life in Stockholm, though. I've never had so few friends, and done so little in my free time. I'm not taking advantage of what Stockholm has to offer, because one, I don't have the money to, two, I don't have the time to, and three, I don't have the people to do it with. And I don't know what makes me think that this would be different some place else?
I don't know, I think I've just been unable to connect with Stockholm. There's really nothing that ties me to Stockholm, no family, no memories and hardly any friends. With London it was different, I came to London as a 19-year-old and I created memories there, that I later came back to when I'd finished uni. And I know that I can create memories here too, but sometimes I think I'm just too old. I mean I can't see myself meeting new people in the near future; I never go out so I don't meet people that way and I work with only middle aged men. Then again, I don't know that many people in London these days either, a lot of people have moved back to their respective countries. But I do know more people than I know here, and I do know people who all know a lot of other people. Here my circle of friends consists of about 3 people and perhaps a couple of their friends occationally, but that's it.
Even Malmö seems like a better place to be. At least I have something that ties me to Malmö, family, old friends. Good friends. Perhaps Stockholm is just too in between for me? It's not the comfort of what I've always known, but it's also not the exciting and challenging. Perhaps it's just the fact that I feel really lonely here. I live alone and I almost work alone, and rarely see people. Back home in Malmö, if I didn't have anything to do one weekend, I could always go home to my mom. Here I have no one. And in London I always lived with people, thus there were always people around me. Here, it's just me.
And although I am very independent and even sometimes a bit of a hermit, I do like to have people around me. And I know that I'm restless and always want to move on to something better, but this time it's not about that so much as wanting to have a life, a career, friends. At least one or the other. Right now I have nothing. I don't need everything, but I also don't need nothing. No one needs nothing. Everyone needs something. Where's my something?
Friday, March 13, 2009
Fabulous Facebook
Isn't it funny how some people unexpectedly make their way into your life, and before you know it they're such an integral part of it that you can't remember a time when they weren't?
My friend Ida is one of those people. We met in London through Facebook of all places. Before we met for a coffee the first time, I can't say that I had very high expectations. And even after our first "date" at a café in Covent Garden, I wasn't completely convinced. Although I did think she was nice, I never expected her to now be one of my best friends. Turns out, that was one successful blind date.
During all our evening walks around pretty much all of central London, we talked a lot about Sweden, how much we missed certain things and how so many English things bothered us. Single glazed windows, two taps in the sink, wall to wall carpet and countless other things were a constant source of irritation for us. And although I had always had every intention of staying in London pretty much forever, because of our constant talk about the greatness that is Sweden, I started to feel homesick and could think of no reasons to stay, and reasons aplenty to move back home.
So I did, and after five months I finally moved to Stockholm, and we both now live here and we're still good friends. We don't see each other as much as we did when I first moved here, mostly because there really isn't much time for it, rather than because we don't want to. We can still talk about most anything, her emails keep me alive at work, and I've met few people who share so many of my values as she does.
I still can't say that I've completely come to terms with being back in Sweden, I guess that the orignial desire of returning to what was known and comfortable has changed into a restlessness that I should have known was residing deep within me. It's always been there, so why did I think that it had somehow mysteriously disappeared, just because for a second I thought that I wanted to move home and settle down?
I don't know what's going to happen with my life yet, where I'm going to end up, if I'm leaving or if I'll just stay put. But I do know that I think it's pretty amazing that a girl that I met through Facebook about a year and a half ago in London is now one of my best friends in Stockholm.
Funny, how life turns out.
My friend Ida is one of those people. We met in London through Facebook of all places. Before we met for a coffee the first time, I can't say that I had very high expectations. And even after our first "date" at a café in Covent Garden, I wasn't completely convinced. Although I did think she was nice, I never expected her to now be one of my best friends. Turns out, that was one successful blind date.
During all our evening walks around pretty much all of central London, we talked a lot about Sweden, how much we missed certain things and how so many English things bothered us. Single glazed windows, two taps in the sink, wall to wall carpet and countless other things were a constant source of irritation for us. And although I had always had every intention of staying in London pretty much forever, because of our constant talk about the greatness that is Sweden, I started to feel homesick and could think of no reasons to stay, and reasons aplenty to move back home.
So I did, and after five months I finally moved to Stockholm, and we both now live here and we're still good friends. We don't see each other as much as we did when I first moved here, mostly because there really isn't much time for it, rather than because we don't want to. We can still talk about most anything, her emails keep me alive at work, and I've met few people who share so many of my values as she does.
I still can't say that I've completely come to terms with being back in Sweden, I guess that the orignial desire of returning to what was known and comfortable has changed into a restlessness that I should have known was residing deep within me. It's always been there, so why did I think that it had somehow mysteriously disappeared, just because for a second I thought that I wanted to move home and settle down?
I don't know what's going to happen with my life yet, where I'm going to end up, if I'm leaving or if I'll just stay put. But I do know that I think it's pretty amazing that a girl that I met through Facebook about a year and a half ago in London is now one of my best friends in Stockholm.
Funny, how life turns out.
Missing you Marina
I just got a call from one of my best friends, a girl who now lives in Slovenia, and who I used to share a life with back in the day. We studied together in Bournemouth, became friends only at the beginning of the second semester and have been inseperable ever since. Well, that is since we both moved back to our respective countries. Before that we did everything together. We would make dinner for each other, we'd spend countless nights in her kitchen drinking beer and eating doritos and analyzing each other's lives. We'd go to O'Neill's, our favorite hang-out in Bournemouth more often than was perhaps wise, and bump into all kinds of freaks and geeks.
When we'd finished uni, we moved to London together, shared an amazing house with some other amazing Bournemouth people, but somehow it was as though living together did the opposite of bringing us closer together. We both worked a lot, and we never had the energy, time or money to just go out and have fun together. I regret that now. Our time in London together was supposed to be amazing, yet all I remember from that time is hating my job.
I still consider her to be one of my best friends, though, and when I think about it I can't believe that we are so far apart, that we will never live in the same city again. That we used to be so close, she was the one I would confide in, always. I want those days back. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Studying abroad is both one of the best and one of the worst things you can ever do. It's the most amazing experience, and you meet some of the most amazing people in the world, but then you have to leave it all and go back to the dull reality that is real life.
I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm not so sure that this whole real life thing is for me. I much preferred the fantasy life I lived during my study abroad experiences, when everything seemed possible and I was still young. Although I still have the same dreams, I feel like I'm getting too old to achieve them, like life is slipping away, and all the people I used to know with it, and all I can do is sit at my frikkin embassy with my joke of a job and watch it happen.
And I don't like it. I don't like it at all.
When we'd finished uni, we moved to London together, shared an amazing house with some other amazing Bournemouth people, but somehow it was as though living together did the opposite of bringing us closer together. We both worked a lot, and we never had the energy, time or money to just go out and have fun together. I regret that now. Our time in London together was supposed to be amazing, yet all I remember from that time is hating my job.
I still consider her to be one of my best friends, though, and when I think about it I can't believe that we are so far apart, that we will never live in the same city again. That we used to be so close, she was the one I would confide in, always. I want those days back. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Studying abroad is both one of the best and one of the worst things you can ever do. It's the most amazing experience, and you meet some of the most amazing people in the world, but then you have to leave it all and go back to the dull reality that is real life.
I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm not so sure that this whole real life thing is for me. I much preferred the fantasy life I lived during my study abroad experiences, when everything seemed possible and I was still young. Although I still have the same dreams, I feel like I'm getting too old to achieve them, like life is slipping away, and all the people I used to know with it, and all I can do is sit at my frikkin embassy with my joke of a job and watch it happen.
And I don't like it. I don't like it at all.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Time flies
The weeks really just fly by, don't they? Tomorrow it's Friday again, and I have yet to discover what it has to offer. I think it's going to be hard to deny the fact that I'm getting older much longer, as last weekend, amazing as it was, has left me longing for a weekend of doing nothing.
I think I need to do some damage control on my political science class, which I seem to have put on hold until further notice, and perhaps that's not the best idea as the first two classes are supposed to come to an end soon. I suspect that I have two or three papers to catch up on this weekend, something that should prove to be easier than I first thought it would be. I've so far submitted three papers, and I spent way too much time and effort on the first two. They were around 4 pages each, and had 4 or 5 references. Before the third one, I was informed that each question (there were three) needed an answer consisting of about 100-200 words. So my third paper was written in no time, as will hopefully the ones I have to write this weekend.
I guess having studied at masters level, I've forgotten just how basic the A-classes, as we call them, can be. And I guess distance learning is less demanding than regular university studies, especially if you like me, forget to watch the lectures that are put up online. What's the point, I wonder, if I can pass the classes with next to no effort at all? I guess I will learn less, but to be honest I feel like I know most of what we're doing already. I mean it's politics, for heaven's sake.
I just signed up for an online writing class in freelance journalism too. I have no idea if it's any good, but I'm hoping to improve my writing at least to some extent. It can't really get any worse, I'm sure. And supposedly you're given a personal tutor who's an experienced journalist in your chosen field, and they're supposed to work with you until you get something published. It was relatively inexpensive, so I decided to give it a go. If it works out, no one will be happier than me, and if it doesn't, I guess no harm will have been done. You'll never know if you never try, right?
I think I need to do some damage control on my political science class, which I seem to have put on hold until further notice, and perhaps that's not the best idea as the first two classes are supposed to come to an end soon. I suspect that I have two or three papers to catch up on this weekend, something that should prove to be easier than I first thought it would be. I've so far submitted three papers, and I spent way too much time and effort on the first two. They were around 4 pages each, and had 4 or 5 references. Before the third one, I was informed that each question (there were three) needed an answer consisting of about 100-200 words. So my third paper was written in no time, as will hopefully the ones I have to write this weekend.
I guess having studied at masters level, I've forgotten just how basic the A-classes, as we call them, can be. And I guess distance learning is less demanding than regular university studies, especially if you like me, forget to watch the lectures that are put up online. What's the point, I wonder, if I can pass the classes with next to no effort at all? I guess I will learn less, but to be honest I feel like I know most of what we're doing already. I mean it's politics, for heaven's sake.
I just signed up for an online writing class in freelance journalism too. I have no idea if it's any good, but I'm hoping to improve my writing at least to some extent. It can't really get any worse, I'm sure. And supposedly you're given a personal tutor who's an experienced journalist in your chosen field, and they're supposed to work with you until you get something published. It was relatively inexpensive, so I decided to give it a go. If it works out, no one will be happier than me, and if it doesn't, I guess no harm will have been done. You'll never know if you never try, right?
Men are dangerous
At least those who attend fitness classes. They seem to have no conception of the people around them and their own proximity to these people. They wave their arms, they jump around and if you're not careful you risk getting punched in the face by a flying hand. They just seem to be so determined to get a good workout out of it, that it doesn't matter to them if others won't, due to the fact that they have to watch their every move in order not to get knocked out. I say let women keep the fitness classes to themselves, and just stick to the gym. At least that's a place I never set foot in.
Enunciation problems
Goddammit, these diplomats are really starting to rub me the wrong way. How hard is it to enunciate, I’m asking you? Or to even spell your name, letter by letter? If you’re Portuguese, and named José Carlos, and if you are aware of the fact that two of your colleagues are also named José Carlos, wouldn’t it be a good idea to pronounce your last name in an at least somewhat audible fashion? And as a diplomat, shouldn’t you be well aware of problems such as this, of cultural differences and of the efforts that have to be made in order for people from different countries and cultures to understand each other? I always spell my last name, even to Swedes, because I know it’s not a common name and people usually don’t know how to spell it. It’s really not that hard, and it doesn’t take that long. You can’t just assume that other people are familiar with your name if it’s not a very common name, like Smith or Jones. And now I’ll be the one getting into trouble for not taking a proper message, but it really isn’t the easiest thing to do when the person calling refuses to enunciate, no matter how many times he’s asked to do so.
Monday, March 9, 2009
I ain't no party girl no more
I think it's safe to say that it would be hard to be more tired than I am right now. Many nights of too little sleep are taking their toll, and in particular I think that Saturday night has something to do with it too. I haven't been out clubbing in a long time, and it seems as though I'm just not cut out for that anymore. Today's Monday and I still feel hungover. Or perhaps it's just that not even last night did I go to bed at a decent hour, even though I was immensely tired. I just don't really like going to bed at night, and I dislike getting out of bed in the morning even more. I think extended mornings should be introduced in everyone's lives.
I skipped my work-out today, not just because of my tiredness, but because my legs really hurt for reasons unknown to me. I guess they don't appreciate a good work out. I needed to get home anyway, I had some books that I ordered a while ago to pick up, and the store closes at 7, a time which I rarely seem to be home by. And I've had time to do the dishes, unpack my weekend bag and vacuum the floor. Now I just have the bathroom to deal with, and then a can go to bed without feeling guilty.
I aim to be in bed by nine, but although it's an hour away, I already believe it to be doomed to fail. If only I can get my butt out of my bed soon and get that bathroom cleaned, then perhaps it could actually happen.
I skipped my work-out today, not just because of my tiredness, but because my legs really hurt for reasons unknown to me. I guess they don't appreciate a good work out. I needed to get home anyway, I had some books that I ordered a while ago to pick up, and the store closes at 7, a time which I rarely seem to be home by. And I've had time to do the dishes, unpack my weekend bag and vacuum the floor. Now I just have the bathroom to deal with, and then a can go to bed without feeling guilty.
I aim to be in bed by nine, but although it's an hour away, I already believe it to be doomed to fail. If only I can get my butt out of my bed soon and get that bathroom cleaned, then perhaps it could actually happen.
Penny Bridge revisited
2,5 years had passed, yet arriving in Örebro on Friday felt like the most natural thing in the world. Like I was coming home, albeit to a home I no longer belonged to. Almost every single person I used to hang out with when I was studying there was there, and as we were walking around the streets together, having breakfast at Java like we used to, and having coffee at one of my favorite places of all time, Bara Vara, it felt as though I had never been away. I felt as though I could just grab my pink and black and rusty old bike and ride it home to my dorm room where I'd get ready for that night's party.
But the times, of course, had changed, and instead of going "home" I went back to my friend Charlie's place, who incidentally I lived with in the dorm, and who's place I was staying at for the weekend. After a well-needed rest and general freshening up, we headed to Jenny's place for drinks before going out. She had a lovely place and the party was fabulous. I can't remember when I last had so much fun. I really wish that we could all still live in the same city, although I guess that nights such as this wouldn't be as fabulous if they happened all the time.
I always enjoy the pre-drinking more than the club, I'm not really a clubbing kind of a girl, I much prefer intimate bars or British pubs. Still, I enjoyed myself, because of the company more than anything. A club is always a club and they always play the same crappy music, and it's always loud, sweaty and crowded. But phenomenal people makes for a phenomenal night.
Phenomenal was as usual not the morning after. Unfortunately most of the day was wasted in bed, and despite having booked late tickets home, we didn't have time to do any of the things we had planned on Sunday. I'd wanted to take a walk to campus, and to Wadköping, a really old part of town, but instead I had to settle for a salad at Bara Vara.
All in all, though, I had a pretty marvelous weekend, one that I wish would repeat itself very soon.
But the times, of course, had changed, and instead of going "home" I went back to my friend Charlie's place, who incidentally I lived with in the dorm, and who's place I was staying at for the weekend. After a well-needed rest and general freshening up, we headed to Jenny's place for drinks before going out. She had a lovely place and the party was fabulous. I can't remember when I last had so much fun. I really wish that we could all still live in the same city, although I guess that nights such as this wouldn't be as fabulous if they happened all the time.
I always enjoy the pre-drinking more than the club, I'm not really a clubbing kind of a girl, I much prefer intimate bars or British pubs. Still, I enjoyed myself, because of the company more than anything. A club is always a club and they always play the same crappy music, and it's always loud, sweaty and crowded. But phenomenal people makes for a phenomenal night.
Phenomenal was as usual not the morning after. Unfortunately most of the day was wasted in bed, and despite having booked late tickets home, we didn't have time to do any of the things we had planned on Sunday. I'd wanted to take a walk to campus, and to Wadköping, a really old part of town, but instead I had to settle for a salad at Bara Vara.
All in all, though, I had a pretty marvelous weekend, one that I wish would repeat itself very soon.
The world is full of complete idiots.
A man just called and wanted to speak to one of the guys who work here. When I asked what his name was, he told me, but when I asked where he was calling from, he gave me the name of the city he was in??? Why did he think that that would be of any importance to me? Doesn't the question: may I ask where you're calling from, kind of imply that it's the company or organization that you're interested in, not the location?
If I have learned one think during my time at this embassy, it is that people are generally stupid. I don't know how many people I've had calling here asking for the Swedish embassy in Sweden. Quite a few Swedish men who've wanted to know how to bring their Thai girlfriends back to Sweden. A Swedish guy in Germany who thought that Berlin was too far for him to go to renew his passport, so could I please tell him what he could do instead? And just on Friday, a woman called asking how she could go about having some Russian friends over. I told her that she has to contact the Russian Embassy instead, but she said that she doesn't speak Russian and that the line was busy all the time. So she just randomly picked another embassy, or what? I finally gave her the number to the Swedish embassy in Moscow, because obviously they're the ones who will be issuing the visa. But then she wanted to know if we could find out who this girl is that is coming to visit, because apparently she wanted the woman to send her money for the visa. I was a little taken aback and asked if she didn't know the person, to which she replied that no she didn't, it was some woman that her son had met on the internet. Oh the humanity!
If I have learned one think during my time at this embassy, it is that people are generally stupid. I don't know how many people I've had calling here asking for the Swedish embassy in Sweden. Quite a few Swedish men who've wanted to know how to bring their Thai girlfriends back to Sweden. A Swedish guy in Germany who thought that Berlin was too far for him to go to renew his passport, so could I please tell him what he could do instead? And just on Friday, a woman called asking how she could go about having some Russian friends over. I told her that she has to contact the Russian Embassy instead, but she said that she doesn't speak Russian and that the line was busy all the time. So she just randomly picked another embassy, or what? I finally gave her the number to the Swedish embassy in Moscow, because obviously they're the ones who will be issuing the visa. But then she wanted to know if we could find out who this girl is that is coming to visit, because apparently she wanted the woman to send her money for the visa. I was a little taken aback and asked if she didn't know the person, to which she replied that no she didn't, it was some woman that her son had met on the internet. Oh the humanity!
Friday, March 6, 2009
Completely lethargic
I'm half asleep at work, for reasons that only half of the population can understand. Maybe it would have helped if I was actually remotely busy, but evidently I am not. I’m just tired, and slightly nauseous. A lovely way to spend a Friday afternoon. But I know it will all go away when I’m sitting on the train with destination Örebro in just a few hours.
Unfortunately, though, I’ll be wearing my boots that by then I will have picked up at the shoe repair. The shoes I’m wearing now, and that I wish I could still be wearing when I board the train at 6.07, have met the same fate as my boots and will thus be left where my boots will be picked up. I nearly came down into a split when I went to the bathroom earlier, unaware of the fact that my shoe was missing its sole which apparently made it very slippery indeed. I caught on to the door handle just in time and managed to keep myself in an upright position, but god knows how it could have ended if I hadn’t. I could have been at the ER waiting to see a doctor. And as a consequence I would have missed my eagerly anticipated trip to Örebro.
Either the entire worlds’ shoe makers are out to kill me, or I just have a very funny way of walking that causes soles to fall off, because by now I’ve lost count of how many I have lost in my life.
Unfortunately, though, I’ll be wearing my boots that by then I will have picked up at the shoe repair. The shoes I’m wearing now, and that I wish I could still be wearing when I board the train at 6.07, have met the same fate as my boots and will thus be left where my boots will be picked up. I nearly came down into a split when I went to the bathroom earlier, unaware of the fact that my shoe was missing its sole which apparently made it very slippery indeed. I caught on to the door handle just in time and managed to keep myself in an upright position, but god knows how it could have ended if I hadn’t. I could have been at the ER waiting to see a doctor. And as a consequence I would have missed my eagerly anticipated trip to Örebro.
Either the entire worlds’ shoe makers are out to kill me, or I just have a very funny way of walking that causes soles to fall off, because by now I’ve lost count of how many I have lost in my life.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Why oh why?
Goddammit, my bedlamp light bulb just went out and I have no desire to look for another one. Guess reading in bed will have to wait till Sunday night... Sex and the City, here we go again.
I need help
Alternatively a new wardrobe. I couldn't pack a suitcase well with a gun pointed to my head. I'm going to my old college town Örebro tomorrow, for a weekend of fun with the girls, some of whom I haven't seen in 2,5 years. I've been very much looking forward to this for weeks, and and I'm still thrilled to go, but I'm less than thrilled about my fruitless attempts to pack a suitcase that will provide me with clothes, makeup, accessories, and whatever else I may need for two days. Two days doesn't sound like a lot, but regardless of the time spent away from your home, the makeup bag, the toiletries, the hairdryer and straightener still take up just as much space. And you obviously need two daytime outfits and an additional one for the mandatory Saturday night out. And shoes to go with everything. As well as purses.
Thank heavens the boots I had to take to the shoe repair today, as the sole fell off the heel, will be ready to collect tomorrow already. My tan boots are just too worn out and curling boots just feel too January to wear in March. And they really are more for emergencies, such as heavy snowfall or sleet covered streets. This weekend, I hope, will contain none of that.
Either way, I'm going to spend the weekend with some of my best friends, in a town which was my home for many years, where I had some of the best times of my life, and some of the worst. But definitely a place where I met some of the most important people in my life. And I doubt that I'll be able to get much sleep tonight, the prospect of being reunited with more or less every single one of my college friends is just too exhilarating!
Thank heavens the boots I had to take to the shoe repair today, as the sole fell off the heel, will be ready to collect tomorrow already. My tan boots are just too worn out and curling boots just feel too January to wear in March. And they really are more for emergencies, such as heavy snowfall or sleet covered streets. This weekend, I hope, will contain none of that.
Either way, I'm going to spend the weekend with some of my best friends, in a town which was my home for many years, where I had some of the best times of my life, and some of the worst. But definitely a place where I met some of the most important people in my life. And I doubt that I'll be able to get much sleep tonight, the prospect of being reunited with more or less every single one of my college friends is just too exhilarating!
Some of us back in the day, perhaps 4 or 5 years ago. I would like to think that some improvement has been made, at least on my part.
Blonde bimbo
I'm watching a show on Swedish TV called Lyxfällan (Luxury Trap) about people who are spending more money that they're making and sometimes they're so deep in dept they have little chance of ever getting out of it.
Tonight it's about a 23-year-old girl, super blonde and clearly with one thing or another pumped into her lips. And she's not even in debt, she's just extremely spoiled. Her (American) dad is also on the show, and he seems to be the one who pays for her to have the lifestyle that she has. I'm not saying that it's wrong for parents to help their children, I know my mom helps me out a lot, but I certainly don't life a life in luxury.
This girl had her own company and got 2000 euros net every month. For a 23-year-old, that's quite a lot here in Sweden. The thing is that she doesn't seem very bright. How can someone so stupid have a job that pays that well? I'm clearly far more intelligent than her, yet I don't make anywhere near as much money as she does. And how can you be irresponsible enough to spend 1200 euros more than you make every month and still be able to manage your own company?
And how in the world can you spend 15 euros on a cab ride that would take five minutes to walk? I guess I'll never understand that overly excessive lifestyle. I too like clothes, bars and restaurants, but surely life can't be all about surface?
Tonight it's about a 23-year-old girl, super blonde and clearly with one thing or another pumped into her lips. And she's not even in debt, she's just extremely spoiled. Her (American) dad is also on the show, and he seems to be the one who pays for her to have the lifestyle that she has. I'm not saying that it's wrong for parents to help their children, I know my mom helps me out a lot, but I certainly don't life a life in luxury.
This girl had her own company and got 2000 euros net every month. For a 23-year-old, that's quite a lot here in Sweden. The thing is that she doesn't seem very bright. How can someone so stupid have a job that pays that well? I'm clearly far more intelligent than her, yet I don't make anywhere near as much money as she does. And how can you be irresponsible enough to spend 1200 euros more than you make every month and still be able to manage your own company?
And how in the world can you spend 15 euros on a cab ride that would take five minutes to walk? I guess I'll never understand that overly excessive lifestyle. I too like clothes, bars and restaurants, but surely life can't be all about surface?
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
A hazard to myself?
I don't think I'm actually literally a hazard to myself physically, I mean I don't think I'm going to get myself killed any time soon. Hurt, yes, I'm the clumsiest and most accident prone person I've ever met and I tend to break things one wouldn't have thought breakable.
But I also have no self control. For the past 6 weeks or so, I've been working out regularly and I'm trying to eat healthily, hoping to lose a few kilos by easter, and another few by summer. But altough I have no problem sticking to my exercise routine, keeping myself from the chocolate and cookies has proved to be a lot more difficult.
At work, someone always insists on putting a bowl of chocolate in my room. It's dark chocolate, but nonetheless having too many pieces even of healthy chocolate can't be good. And when I get home at night, after starting off on the right track with a nutritious salad, it doesn't take long before I reach for something less healthy. Today actually hasn't been that bad, only had a couple of digestives and I guess I can live with that.
I'm just going to have to learn never to have anything unhealthy in close proximity to myself. I think that's the only way to keep my sweet tooth at bay.
But I also have no self control. For the past 6 weeks or so, I've been working out regularly and I'm trying to eat healthily, hoping to lose a few kilos by easter, and another few by summer. But altough I have no problem sticking to my exercise routine, keeping myself from the chocolate and cookies has proved to be a lot more difficult.
At work, someone always insists on putting a bowl of chocolate in my room. It's dark chocolate, but nonetheless having too many pieces even of healthy chocolate can't be good. And when I get home at night, after starting off on the right track with a nutritious salad, it doesn't take long before I reach for something less healthy. Today actually hasn't been that bad, only had a couple of digestives and I guess I can live with that.
I'm just going to have to learn never to have anything unhealthy in close proximity to myself. I think that's the only way to keep my sweet tooth at bay.
Me and my milky tea
When I first moved to London seven years ago (a painfully long time, am I really that old?) I couldn't stand having milk in my tea. I didn't even know that this was how most every Brit drank it, so when I was first asked if I wanted a cup of tea I just agreed, not knowing what I was signing up for. And the first time you meet someone and they're making you tea in their house, you're not really going to ask them to make you a new cup when you realize that they put milk in it.
A couple of moves back and forth to England, however, have made me unable to drink my tea without milk in it. There's nothing more relaxing than a big cup of hot, steaming English breakfast tea with a drop of milk in it.
And tonight the tea tastes better than ever, as I made a little trip to the English shop here in Stockholm, http://www.englishshop.se/, and bought myself som PG Tips, the bestest tea in the world. I love the English shop, I'm quite a frequent customer, but mostly I just go there to browse the aisles. Food is such a big part of a country and certain foods just really remind you certain people, situations or places.
When you love tea just as much as the next English person, is that when you have become one of them?
A couple of moves back and forth to England, however, have made me unable to drink my tea without milk in it. There's nothing more relaxing than a big cup of hot, steaming English breakfast tea with a drop of milk in it.
And tonight the tea tastes better than ever, as I made a little trip to the English shop here in Stockholm, http://www.englishshop.se/, and bought myself som PG Tips, the bestest tea in the world. I love the English shop, I'm quite a frequent customer, but mostly I just go there to browse the aisles. Food is such a big part of a country and certain foods just really remind you certain people, situations or places.
When you love tea just as much as the next English person, is that when you have become one of them?
Loyal to my company?
Or should I say embassy... Before I was offered this job, during my second interview when I met the Ambassador for the first time, he said that he was slightly hesitant to hire someone as young as me, because young people don't tend to stay very long and they needed someone to stay for at least one year. I said that this was no problem, and it was true. I had no intentions of leaving anytime soon, after all I'd been waiting for a job for five months and wasn't going to give it up that quickly.
But little did I know then how incredibly bored and under stimulated I would be. I got this job in competition with many others for reasons unknown to me. Some of the people were fluent in both Swedish and Slovene and probably would have been better suited for the job, but I guess they didn't have my good command of the English language. I'm not saying that my English is amazingly, unbelievably good, but I do think that my translating skills are at least half decent. Or at least so I've been told.
Unfortunately, there are only so many articles, annotated agendas and Globalization Council reports to translate, and it normally only takes up a few hours of my time every day. So when I've gone through the papers, translated what I found important, and printed out a couple of papers that get sent to us every day, I'm pretty much done for the day. Ok, sometimes I have to update the agenda, confirm or regret a couple of inviatations, make a few phone calls to different ministries and embassies, and write a summary of what the Swedish ministers have been up to during the week, but this still isn't enough to fill up a whole week.
I know many people probably think that I'm lucky, that being able to just kick back at work and do more or less nothing is a luxury that most people can only dream about. Well let me tell you something. It's not that great. I like to be busy, to be challenged, to be kicked out of my comfort zone and find myself in situations that I don't quite know how to get out of.
More importantly I want to grow, to learn and develop at work. I want to be able to take my career further, but obviously I won't be able to be promoted at work as I work at an embassy and to hold the higher positions you obviously have to be from the country which the embassy represents. And I'm not learning enough or gaining enough knowledge that I'll be able to bring with me to my next job for it to be worth staying here for an entire year.
If something better comes along, then I'm out of here. Tomorrow if possible. Because although I did promise to stay for a year, I feel like I was given the job under false pretenses. Had I known then that this job would provide no challenges whatsoever, I don't know if I would have taken it.
Then again, my original plan was to apply to the Diplomat Program at the MFA, and as they won't be recruiting this year as I thought they would, there's not much point in me wasting my time here.
Instead I'll be looking into finding a job in the publishing industry in London. Or here for that matter, but I do think that jobs like that are a lot harder to find in Sweden. Plus, the English weather is just so much better than the Swedish!
But little did I know then how incredibly bored and under stimulated I would be. I got this job in competition with many others for reasons unknown to me. Some of the people were fluent in both Swedish and Slovene and probably would have been better suited for the job, but I guess they didn't have my good command of the English language. I'm not saying that my English is amazingly, unbelievably good, but I do think that my translating skills are at least half decent. Or at least so I've been told.
Unfortunately, there are only so many articles, annotated agendas and Globalization Council reports to translate, and it normally only takes up a few hours of my time every day. So when I've gone through the papers, translated what I found important, and printed out a couple of papers that get sent to us every day, I'm pretty much done for the day. Ok, sometimes I have to update the agenda, confirm or regret a couple of inviatations, make a few phone calls to different ministries and embassies, and write a summary of what the Swedish ministers have been up to during the week, but this still isn't enough to fill up a whole week.
I know many people probably think that I'm lucky, that being able to just kick back at work and do more or less nothing is a luxury that most people can only dream about. Well let me tell you something. It's not that great. I like to be busy, to be challenged, to be kicked out of my comfort zone and find myself in situations that I don't quite know how to get out of.
More importantly I want to grow, to learn and develop at work. I want to be able to take my career further, but obviously I won't be able to be promoted at work as I work at an embassy and to hold the higher positions you obviously have to be from the country which the embassy represents. And I'm not learning enough or gaining enough knowledge that I'll be able to bring with me to my next job for it to be worth staying here for an entire year.
If something better comes along, then I'm out of here. Tomorrow if possible. Because although I did promise to stay for a year, I feel like I was given the job under false pretenses. Had I known then that this job would provide no challenges whatsoever, I don't know if I would have taken it.
Then again, my original plan was to apply to the Diplomat Program at the MFA, and as they won't be recruiting this year as I thought they would, there's not much point in me wasting my time here.
Instead I'll be looking into finding a job in the publishing industry in London. Or here for that matter, but I do think that jobs like that are a lot harder to find in Sweden. Plus, the English weather is just so much better than the Swedish!
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
give up life for love?
Tonight after work I was supposed to have a French class but after waiting for half an hour for the teacher to show up, we all decided to give up and leave. As we were walking towards the metro station a couple of girls that I hadn't talked to before decided to grab a glass of wine and invited me to come with them. I happily did as I had just realized that communist alcohol store had closed and I wouldn't be able to get the wine I'd been planning on buying.
Said and done, we found a bar called Tranan, just next to the metro station. It was a pretty nice place, and the wine was decently priced for once. And the girls were very nice, a few years older than me and far more grown up. One had even bought a house with her boyfriend, something that I can perhaps see in a far distant future, but certainly not in the next couple of years. That didn't bother me though, but what did was that she told me that when she was 26, she'd been accepted to some school in New York, a place where she had always dreamed of moving to. But as she had just met her (now ex) boyfriend and was so in love she decided not to go.
I was having a very hard time understanding this. How can you give up your life long dream because of a guy? When you're 26? If he's the one he'll still be there in a year. Right? If not, he definitely wouldn't have been worth staying for.
I want no regrets in my life, especially not regrets of not doing what I dreamed of doing when given the opportunity. Of course I regret doing certain things, but at least I've tried, and sometimes failed. I've never not done anything because of fear, or because of someone else.
Perhaps I'm selfish, although I don't think that I am. But I would never give up on a dream because of another person. Because in the end, the only thing that's constant in my life is me, and I'm the one who's going to have to live with the decisions that I've made. And I would never be able to look myself in the eyes knowing that I've disappointed myself.
Said and done, we found a bar called Tranan, just next to the metro station. It was a pretty nice place, and the wine was decently priced for once. And the girls were very nice, a few years older than me and far more grown up. One had even bought a house with her boyfriend, something that I can perhaps see in a far distant future, but certainly not in the next couple of years. That didn't bother me though, but what did was that she told me that when she was 26, she'd been accepted to some school in New York, a place where she had always dreamed of moving to. But as she had just met her (now ex) boyfriend and was so in love she decided not to go.
I was having a very hard time understanding this. How can you give up your life long dream because of a guy? When you're 26? If he's the one he'll still be there in a year. Right? If not, he definitely wouldn't have been worth staying for.
I want no regrets in my life, especially not regrets of not doing what I dreamed of doing when given the opportunity. Of course I regret doing certain things, but at least I've tried, and sometimes failed. I've never not done anything because of fear, or because of someone else.
Perhaps I'm selfish, although I don't think that I am. But I would never give up on a dream because of another person. Because in the end, the only thing that's constant in my life is me, and I'm the one who's going to have to live with the decisions that I've made. And I would never be able to look myself in the eyes knowing that I've disappointed myself.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Just an ordinary citizen?
After work on Friday, I went to pick up my mom at the train station. As people were getting off and I was trying to spot her face in the crowd I spotted a face that I definitely wasn't expecting to see. Prince Carl Philip. I know he's studying some sort of farming down in Skåne, and he was probably just going home for the weekend to see his family and girlfriend. But still, he's a prince! And he was just walking there like a normal person, bag slung over his sholder and baseball hat on his head. He was definitely more attractive in real life than when he's on the cover of old ladies' gossip magazines. This was actually the second time I saw him, the first I was maybe 10 or so and we were taking a tour of their summer house premises at Öland, and he came by in the back of a car. Perhaps we're meant to be together?
I do admire him for wanting to be normal. People sometimes complain that they're given too much money for doing nothing, but seriously, I would not want to trade places for all the money in the world. Those kids did not choose a life in the spotlight, they're not like the other celebs out there who even if they're in the business just because of their passion for acting or music or whatever it may be, actually made an active choice to be in the public eye. And other celebs can make mistakes and they will be forgiven for them. Royalties are just scrutinized, their every move is closely monitored and they'd best behave or they'll be in a whole lot of trouble. The people that they've finally ended up with, their significant others, are very brave indeed in my eyes, for being willing to put up with the whole media frenzy, for accepting that they have to give up their life as they know it to become part of the most famous family in Sweden, a family that people either love or hate, but always have an opinion on.
It's a good thing that they do, though. Imagine if royalty would only marry royalty. The royalties of the world would be very messed up by now, perhaps even extinct. And even if I can't say that I'm the biggest royalist in the world, I wouldn't wish upon anyone to be forced to marry their cousin.
I do admire him for wanting to be normal. People sometimes complain that they're given too much money for doing nothing, but seriously, I would not want to trade places for all the money in the world. Those kids did not choose a life in the spotlight, they're not like the other celebs out there who even if they're in the business just because of their passion for acting or music or whatever it may be, actually made an active choice to be in the public eye. And other celebs can make mistakes and they will be forgiven for them. Royalties are just scrutinized, their every move is closely monitored and they'd best behave or they'll be in a whole lot of trouble. The people that they've finally ended up with, their significant others, are very brave indeed in my eyes, for being willing to put up with the whole media frenzy, for accepting that they have to give up their life as they know it to become part of the most famous family in Sweden, a family that people either love or hate, but always have an opinion on.
It's a good thing that they do, though. Imagine if royalty would only marry royalty. The royalties of the world would be very messed up by now, perhaps even extinct. And even if I can't say that I'm the biggest royalist in the world, I wouldn't wish upon anyone to be forced to marry their cousin.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Slovene overload
I have absolutely nothing against the Slovenian language, and I absolutely love the country, and pretty much every single Slovenian person that I've met has been very nice and friendly. But I cannot stand having to listen to it anymore. After a while it really does get on your nerves when two or three men are standing in your room, speaking loudly in Slovene and you have little to no chance of ever finding out what they are talking about. It makes it hard to focus on what you're doing, and if I have nothing to do it makes it hard to just go on facebook, because I don't want them to see that.
And I'm sick of everything on my computer being in Slovene, and of all the documents that come my way being in Slovene, which leads me to never know what it's regarding, thus I never know who to give it to. And today I was trying to access my hotmail, but all of a sudden it had turned into Slovene and some message came up that I couldn't understand and couldn't get rid of either. After som random clicking around I finally managed to change it back into Swedish, but it really shouldn't have to be so damn hard.
And every time they call from the ministry in Slovenia, I pick up the phone and say Slovenian Embassy. And yet they release this flood of words in Slovene that can't be stopped, and despite my efforts to interupt them and ask if they speak English, they just keep going. When they've finally finished talking, I ask them if they speak English, they sound slightly annoyed and repeat what they just said, but in English. And they never enunciate very well, I always have the hardest time picking up their names, which causes me a great deal of distress at the office when people get mad at me for not being able to say exactly who's calling them.
Another person who definitely didn't enunciate was the woman who called a little while ago. She sounded Finnish, but I'm pretty sure that she was using Swedish words. She talked for about 3 minutes and I didn't understand a thing. I did hear something about opening hours, and the word embassy, so I think she might be coming over. I do wonder how I'll manage to fend her off. Hopefully she understands Swedish better than she speaks it.
And I'm sick of everything on my computer being in Slovene, and of all the documents that come my way being in Slovene, which leads me to never know what it's regarding, thus I never know who to give it to. And today I was trying to access my hotmail, but all of a sudden it had turned into Slovene and some message came up that I couldn't understand and couldn't get rid of either. After som random clicking around I finally managed to change it back into Swedish, but it really shouldn't have to be so damn hard.
And every time they call from the ministry in Slovenia, I pick up the phone and say Slovenian Embassy. And yet they release this flood of words in Slovene that can't be stopped, and despite my efforts to interupt them and ask if they speak English, they just keep going. When they've finally finished talking, I ask them if they speak English, they sound slightly annoyed and repeat what they just said, but in English. And they never enunciate very well, I always have the hardest time picking up their names, which causes me a great deal of distress at the office when people get mad at me for not being able to say exactly who's calling them.
Another person who definitely didn't enunciate was the woman who called a little while ago. She sounded Finnish, but I'm pretty sure that she was using Swedish words. She talked for about 3 minutes and I didn't understand a thing. I did hear something about opening hours, and the word embassy, so I think she might be coming over. I do wonder how I'll manage to fend her off. Hopefully she understands Swedish better than she speaks it.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Broadening my horizons
R&B normally isn’t my cup of tea, but I’m really feeling Jenny Wilson’s latest single, The Wooden Chair, and I’m contemplating downloading the album from which it was taken, Hardships, from iTunes when I get home from work. And just before I left this morning I downloaded Duffy (it was on discount) so that means I’ll have some good tunes to listen to while I clean my kitchen and start preparing the salmon I’m going to cook tonight. Good music and good wine are essential when Malin cooks, or she just doesn’t cook at all.
Money in the bank!
I never thought this day would come. Never have I been so short of money as this past month. Too many quarterly bills, a French course to pay for and a Bruce Springsteen ticket that in itself made it worth living almost below the poverty line.
But now my bank account yet again holds some money. Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure that, as always, they won’t be there for long. Despite my efforts to live cheaply, it somehow never works out. No matter what you do, it costs money. I’m going to have to start making budgets for each months – and stick to it.
Either way, today I’m with money and two of my favorites are coming over for dinner and copious amounts of wine tonight. I cannot wait to get out of this godforsaken office and pour myself a nice, large glass of Periquita!
But now my bank account yet again holds some money. Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure that, as always, they won’t be there for long. Despite my efforts to live cheaply, it somehow never works out. No matter what you do, it costs money. I’m going to have to start making budgets for each months – and stick to it.
Either way, today I’m with money and two of my favorites are coming over for dinner and copious amounts of wine tonight. I cannot wait to get out of this godforsaken office and pour myself a nice, large glass of Periquita!
Change of heart...
The papers this morning were filled to the brim with the royal engagement. And after reading and hearing about it all night yesterday and all day today, I’m beginning to realize just how huge this is. Not just in Sweden, but for Sweden abroad, it will certainly put Sweden on the map, if only for a short period of time. And I am happy for the two; it can’t have been easy for her to be with a man of the people, against the wishes of her family, and for him to suddenly find himself in the spotlight, with all eyes on him, watching his every move.
It annoys me slightly when there are talks about the succession order and how now that he’s not actually a Bernadotte, the family won’t live on through them, and instead her younger brother’s children will be the real Bernadottes. So just because she’s a woman she can’t carry on the family name? Thank goodness our prime minister repudiated such statements and said that when the succession order was changed, it was changed to make our society more equal and that this should not be any kind of problem today. Hear, hear!
And although I’m still pretty indifferent towards the monarchy’s being or not being, I’m still very much looking forward to seeing all the lavish dresses at the wedding!
It annoys me slightly when there are talks about the succession order and how now that he’s not actually a Bernadotte, the family won’t live on through them, and instead her younger brother’s children will be the real Bernadottes. So just because she’s a woman she can’t carry on the family name? Thank goodness our prime minister repudiated such statements and said that when the succession order was changed, it was changed to make our society more equal and that this should not be any kind of problem today. Hear, hear!
And although I’m still pretty indifferent towards the monarchy’s being or not being, I’m still very much looking forward to seeing all the lavish dresses at the wedding!
No thank you!
Well, as could be expected, here’s now my first post about Hanson. Come on, we all know I wouldn’t be able to go too long without one. But, surprise, surprise, it’s not a very positive one. I still like their music, I do, and obviously their newer stuff more than their old teeny-bopper pop. Their latest album, which is now two years old, is still played pretty frequently on my iTunes.
But now Taylor apparently has some sort of side project with some other guys, one from Smashing Pumpkins and the others from god knows where. They call themselves Tinted Windows. When I first heard about it, I thought that it might be kind of cool, different sound, different people and just altogether fresh. I do find it difficult to understand how his wife and four kids can be ok with it, though. At least I wouldn’t be too happy if I had a husband who was away from home most of the time, either on tour or in the studio, and then when he finally has some time off he goes and joins another band, instead of spending it with his family.
But that’s beside the point. The point is that the music sucks. Big toe. The lyrics are lame and I hate to say it but it kind of sounds like the Jonas Brothers. Or worse. It’s definitely very different from the Hanson music that I’m used to listening to, and I don’t think it’s a far off guess to say that what Smashing Pumpkins used to sound like was nothing like this.
Oh well, to each their own. As long as I’m not forced to listen to it.
But now Taylor apparently has some sort of side project with some other guys, one from Smashing Pumpkins and the others from god knows where. They call themselves Tinted Windows. When I first heard about it, I thought that it might be kind of cool, different sound, different people and just altogether fresh. I do find it difficult to understand how his wife and four kids can be ok with it, though. At least I wouldn’t be too happy if I had a husband who was away from home most of the time, either on tour or in the studio, and then when he finally has some time off he goes and joins another band, instead of spending it with his family.
But that’s beside the point. The point is that the music sucks. Big toe. The lyrics are lame and I hate to say it but it kind of sounds like the Jonas Brothers. Or worse. It’s definitely very different from the Hanson music that I’m used to listening to, and I don’t think it’s a far off guess to say that what Smashing Pumpkins used to sound like was nothing like this.
Oh well, to each their own. As long as I’m not forced to listen to it.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
A nation of sluggards
Saab isn't doing so well, as we all know, and the government isn't going to take over, thank heavens. I don't feel like paying for a company that has been making losses for 20 years. I understand that a lot of people will be affected and that as many as 15 000 people might lose their jobs, and now they're all expecting the government to solve all their problems.
And my question is this. Why is it only people working at big companies who demand and receive all this help? What about people who get laid off a small agency that nobody has ever really heard about? Or what if like me and many of my friends, you return to Sweden after some time abroad, and you look for a job for almost six months before you find one? Why don't we receive any help?
And why do people always ask what the government can do for them, but not what they can do for themselves? Why are Swedish people so helpless? Yesterday I read about a couple who both worked at Saab and they had both been doing so for years and years. They had two teenage children, and now that they were probably going to lose their jobs they said that they obviously can't move because their kids have all their friends where they live now.
Excuse me? How is it ok to cut your income almost in half and live off of tax payers money because you don't want to take your children away from their friends? If you can get a job somewhere else, something that pays at least somewhere close to what you made before, how can you even hesitate? Of course you move. And how to do you expect to get a new job in a town where one of Sweden's biggest companies just went bust?
I do understand that older people who've worked at the same company all their lives need more help than younger people. But when a 20-year-old on TV is asking what the government can do for her now that she's lost her job at Volvo, I just want to punch her face and tell her to think for herself for a change. Go to university, move abroad, move to a different city in Sweden if abroad is too scary. But for the love of god don't just stand there like some pathetic loser, completely unable to manage your own life.
And my question is this. Why is it only people working at big companies who demand and receive all this help? What about people who get laid off a small agency that nobody has ever really heard about? Or what if like me and many of my friends, you return to Sweden after some time abroad, and you look for a job for almost six months before you find one? Why don't we receive any help?
And why do people always ask what the government can do for them, but not what they can do for themselves? Why are Swedish people so helpless? Yesterday I read about a couple who both worked at Saab and they had both been doing so for years and years. They had two teenage children, and now that they were probably going to lose their jobs they said that they obviously can't move because their kids have all their friends where they live now.
Excuse me? How is it ok to cut your income almost in half and live off of tax payers money because you don't want to take your children away from their friends? If you can get a job somewhere else, something that pays at least somewhere close to what you made before, how can you even hesitate? Of course you move. And how to do you expect to get a new job in a town where one of Sweden's biggest companies just went bust?
I do understand that older people who've worked at the same company all their lives need more help than younger people. But when a 20-year-old on TV is asking what the government can do for her now that she's lost her job at Volvo, I just want to punch her face and tell her to think for herself for a change. Go to university, move abroad, move to a different city in Sweden if abroad is too scary. But for the love of god don't just stand there like some pathetic loser, completely unable to manage your own life.
Princess marriage?
Apparently Crown Princess Victoria just got engaged to her long-term boyfriend and now it's the major news of the day. And apparently nine million people are now very excited and have great expectations on the couple and their ability to reproduce. I believe that we expect them to have 3-4 children.
First of all, the woman is almost 32, I do not expect her to have 4 children! Second of all. I don't care. At all. I mean good for her if she's happy, but it's certainly not something that just made my day.
It's not that I'm against the monarchy, I'm just very indifferent towards it. Their being or not being is totally irrelevant to me. And I'll probably watch the ceremony, because it's bound to be beautiful. But I don't appreciate being told what kind of expectations I have on a couple that I've never met, nor will ever meet, before I've even had my morning coffee!
First of all, the woman is almost 32, I do not expect her to have 4 children! Second of all. I don't care. At all. I mean good for her if she's happy, but it's certainly not something that just made my day.
It's not that I'm against the monarchy, I'm just very indifferent towards it. Their being or not being is totally irrelevant to me. And I'll probably watch the ceremony, because it's bound to be beautiful. But I don't appreciate being told what kind of expectations I have on a couple that I've never met, nor will ever meet, before I've even had my morning coffee!
Monday, February 23, 2009
Sorry, but it's just not there
Ok so today my friend Ida brought me along to a fitness class that I don't normally go to. It was some sort of mix between boxing, aerobics and some yoga crap or whatever else you can call those slow things that are supposed to be relaxing. It was all fine up until the end, when we were told to take the energy between our hands and make it into a ball and then gently push the ball of energy into our stomachs. I mean, come on! Between my hands, there was nothing but air, no energy, zilch, nada. Who believes that kind of crap anyway? And then he told us to meditate, to practice just letting our thoughts flow through our heads without actually catching them. But seriously, I'm a thinking human being, human beings think, that's what we're supposed to do, that's what makes us different from most other animals. How can blocking my thoughts help me in any way, why would it make me feel more relaxed?
When I work out, I want to work out. Not listen to some guy who tells me that I have a ball of energy between my hands that can somehow mysteriously be pushed into my body, through the skin and all. All I could think while I was doing that was, god a beer would be nice.
When I work out, I want to work out. Not listen to some guy who tells me that I have a ball of energy between my hands that can somehow mysteriously be pushed into my body, through the skin and all. All I could think while I was doing that was, god a beer would be nice.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
friendship with foreigners
Studying and living abroad is amazing in many ways; you meet people from all over the world, you face challenges that you never could imagine, you learn how to conquer most of them, and you alway come out stronger than you were before. And while at first making friends with people from cultures far different from your own can be tough, it's so extremely rewarding once you do, and after a while you stop seeing the differences and start seeing the similarities. They become you're very good friends but their nationality is never an issue or something that you even think about. The only time when it's brought up is when you share your memories from home, or teach your friends about your country, and is there really a better way of learing about other countries than to experience it first hand through your closest friends?
The downside of it all is that eventually it all inevitably comes to an end. People go back to their countries, or they move on to a different one. In England, I was one of the people who stayed for a while, but then I became one of those who moved back, something I wouldn't have thought possible even just a few months before I actually moved.
And although when I was abroad I missed the friends at home, people that I can now see every week, I now have to miss a ton of people spread out around the world, knowing that I may never see them again. When I was living abroad, I always knew that my friends in Sweden would still be there when I came home to visit, and they would be there if I ever decided to move back home. But the friends living abroad, some as far away as Australia, Indonesia, America, others still in Europe and not that far away, how can I know that I'll see them again? I'm sure I'll go to visit some of them, but how often will I go to Indonesia? And how often will a person from Indonesia go to Sweden?
It really makes me sad to think about people that I shared my life with for a pretty long time, good times and bad, knowing that they're so far away now, and that we'll never ever have what we had again. It used to be the people that I met in America that I missed, I would compare everything to my time there. But I was there for such a short period of time that I can't honestly say that I knew them all that well. Some more than others, sure, but it's the Bournemouth people that I miss the most now. I spent a year with most of them, even longer with some. In such a long period of time you manage to establish a solid friendship that won't just fade away with time, like it did with most people I met in Arizona. I never shared the mundane everyday life with my friends in Arizona, I only experienced the grandeur of partying and traveling. In Bournemouth it went so far beyond that. Yes we partied together, but we also stayed in watching movies together, had dinner at each other's places and cried in each others arms.
In the end, that brings people so much closer together than the greatest party of all.
The downside of it all is that eventually it all inevitably comes to an end. People go back to their countries, or they move on to a different one. In England, I was one of the people who stayed for a while, but then I became one of those who moved back, something I wouldn't have thought possible even just a few months before I actually moved.
And although when I was abroad I missed the friends at home, people that I can now see every week, I now have to miss a ton of people spread out around the world, knowing that I may never see them again. When I was living abroad, I always knew that my friends in Sweden would still be there when I came home to visit, and they would be there if I ever decided to move back home. But the friends living abroad, some as far away as Australia, Indonesia, America, others still in Europe and not that far away, how can I know that I'll see them again? I'm sure I'll go to visit some of them, but how often will I go to Indonesia? And how often will a person from Indonesia go to Sweden?
It really makes me sad to think about people that I shared my life with for a pretty long time, good times and bad, knowing that they're so far away now, and that we'll never ever have what we had again. It used to be the people that I met in America that I missed, I would compare everything to my time there. But I was there for such a short period of time that I can't honestly say that I knew them all that well. Some more than others, sure, but it's the Bournemouth people that I miss the most now. I spent a year with most of them, even longer with some. In such a long period of time you manage to establish a solid friendship that won't just fade away with time, like it did with most people I met in Arizona. I never shared the mundane everyday life with my friends in Arizona, I only experienced the grandeur of partying and traveling. In Bournemouth it went so far beyond that. Yes we partied together, but we also stayed in watching movies together, had dinner at each other's places and cried in each others arms.
In the end, that brings people so much closer together than the greatest party of all.
Sweden's best
Yesterday, after a rather dull day of going to the gym and then pretty much doing nothing, I went to my friend Matilda's place to watch "Melodifestivalen". Now, I guess most people who live or have lived in Europe have heard of the Eurovision Song Contest, and Melodifestivalen is just the Swedish tryouts for this. And to make it all the more fun an interesting (read: to make more money) they've for a few years now been making this into a whole series of shows, with people going through to the finals, or to the second chance, where another two songs will make it to the finals. Yesterday was the third week, and as always there were just so many fabulous songs that it was impossible to choose which one to vote for.
Wrong. There was one song that I liked, and one only. And I would never ever sink so low as to call in and vote for a song in Melodifestivalen. Melodifestivalen is a parody of what good music is all about. The only reason I watch it is to make fun of the participants and to feel slightly embarrassed about the deteriorating taste in music in Sweden. The host, a popular Swedish comedian, is the only thing worth watching. She's hilarious, and sometimes a bit cruel to the contestants, but being in the public eye, they really should know how to handle that.
I'd say that one decent song and one absolutely horrendous song made it to the finals, while one good song and one decent made it to the second chance. And I'll be watching, of course. Because no matter how bad it is, and no matter that I never cease to be amazed by the utter crappiness of the show, I still have to watch it, see who wins and then degrade the artist and the whole Swedish population for having such appalling taste.
I had a lovely time at Matilda's, though, with good company, good wine and a far too big bowl of chips right in front of me. Good thing I started off my day by going to the gym!
Too bad I can't say the same about today. I should go out for a walk or something, but there's snow on the ground and it somehow seems to be both raining and snowing at the same time and it's just not the most tempting weather to go out in. Yesterday I was trying on some spring clothes, getting in a really good mood when thinking about spring's imminent arrival. As I walked home in the snow that started falling last night, spring felt more distant than ever and it certainly isn't looking any better today. Maybe one more day of escaping reality and watching Sex and the City isn't so bad after all.
Wrong. There was one song that I liked, and one only. And I would never ever sink so low as to call in and vote for a song in Melodifestivalen. Melodifestivalen is a parody of what good music is all about. The only reason I watch it is to make fun of the participants and to feel slightly embarrassed about the deteriorating taste in music in Sweden. The host, a popular Swedish comedian, is the only thing worth watching. She's hilarious, and sometimes a bit cruel to the contestants, but being in the public eye, they really should know how to handle that.
I'd say that one decent song and one absolutely horrendous song made it to the finals, while one good song and one decent made it to the second chance. And I'll be watching, of course. Because no matter how bad it is, and no matter that I never cease to be amazed by the utter crappiness of the show, I still have to watch it, see who wins and then degrade the artist and the whole Swedish population for having such appalling taste.
I had a lovely time at Matilda's, though, with good company, good wine and a far too big bowl of chips right in front of me. Good thing I started off my day by going to the gym!
Too bad I can't say the same about today. I should go out for a walk or something, but there's snow on the ground and it somehow seems to be both raining and snowing at the same time and it's just not the most tempting weather to go out in. Yesterday I was trying on some spring clothes, getting in a really good mood when thinking about spring's imminent arrival. As I walked home in the snow that started falling last night, spring felt more distant than ever and it certainly isn't looking any better today. Maybe one more day of escaping reality and watching Sex and the City isn't so bad after all.
Drinks with an ambassador
I have to say, the ambassador's place wasn't as impressive as I thought it would be. It had a reception room and a dining room for entertaining, but I can imagine that they never use those rooms when they're just home alone. The rest of the place just looked like any old aparment, nice, but nothing too extravagant. And better decorated than the reception room, which was a bit too old-fashioned for my taste.
I ended up having a much better time than I had anticipated. I was actually quite nervous before, I didn't know what to expect and I thought that things might be awkward, but it was all very relaxed. Those who had significant others brought them along, except for the new guy whose girlfriend is visiting but preferred to be touristing around Stockholm alone than accopany him to drinks with his boss. Somehow I understand her.
I ended up talking a lot to the other assistant's husband, who to my surprise was 80 years of age. She's just 65 and he looked as though he was around 70. He's British, but has lived in Sweden fora long time, but it was very clear that his heart was still in England. And he had very old-fashioned values, he said that when he was working his wife was home with the kids, and that's how he wanted it, but now he was at home and she was working and he was having a very hard time getting used to this. And boy was he a royalist! He was very upset about royalties marrying commoners, he thought it to be very important that they stick to the blue-bloods.
It's strange being at your boss' place, especially when he's an ambassador. He's supposed to be this important person, he's met all kinds of politicians and other high-flyers, and there I was drinking wine in his living room. It definitely made me see him in a different light. All of a sudden he was a father, a family man. They had pictures of him and his daughters when they were younger, he was hugging them and smiling happily. I guess even ambassadors are only human, and being an ambassador is just a job like any other, only you get to work in a bunch of different countries. But once you're home with your family, you're like any other person. Except you have a cleaner, a cook and someone who does your laundry. And money in the bank.
I ended up having a much better time than I had anticipated. I was actually quite nervous before, I didn't know what to expect and I thought that things might be awkward, but it was all very relaxed. Those who had significant others brought them along, except for the new guy whose girlfriend is visiting but preferred to be touristing around Stockholm alone than accopany him to drinks with his boss. Somehow I understand her.
I ended up talking a lot to the other assistant's husband, who to my surprise was 80 years of age. She's just 65 and he looked as though he was around 70. He's British, but has lived in Sweden fora long time, but it was very clear that his heart was still in England. And he had very old-fashioned values, he said that when he was working his wife was home with the kids, and that's how he wanted it, but now he was at home and she was working and he was having a very hard time getting used to this. And boy was he a royalist! He was very upset about royalties marrying commoners, he thought it to be very important that they stick to the blue-bloods.
It's strange being at your boss' place, especially when he's an ambassador. He's supposed to be this important person, he's met all kinds of politicians and other high-flyers, and there I was drinking wine in his living room. It definitely made me see him in a different light. All of a sudden he was a father, a family man. They had pictures of him and his daughters when they were younger, he was hugging them and smiling happily. I guess even ambassadors are only human, and being an ambassador is just a job like any other, only you get to work in a bunch of different countries. But once you're home with your family, you're like any other person. Except you have a cleaner, a cook and someone who does your laundry. And money in the bank.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Dreams of spring
If I did my best to forget my numb legs and runny nose while walking to work this morning, and if I tried to ignore the woman who just walked past wearing a beanie and warm mittens, I could almost pretend that spring has come to town. The sky is clear blue, the sun is shining, although I can only see it mirrored in the fender of that pink bike across the street, and in the shadows cast by the cars parked on the other side of the street. The Slovenian flag that’s hanging outside my window is floating softly in the mild breeze, a far cry from the days when it was ferociously trying to escape the thrashing wind and rain.
I wish today weren’t Friday, because on Fridays the other secretary isn’t here and I can’t take my usual lunch walk down by the water and past all the other, fancier, embassies in the Diplomat City. Getting some fresh air, and more importantly, some sun, really does help me survive the weariness of most afternoons at this office. Yet, I guess a missed lunch walk is a decent price to pay for the week to be over.
Although I am excited about going to the Ambassador’s residence for drinks tonight, I’d much rather just go home and indulge in my Sex and the City addiction or even read the fabulous book that was given to me by Matilda on my birthday. A large glass of red, a good book and rattling rain on the conservatory roof, while cuddled up under a blanket, enfolded in a warm, big couch; that would be my ideal Friday night tonight. But I have no conservatory, I have no red wine, nor the money to buy any, and as a matter of fact I don’t even have a couch as I live in a tiny studio where such a piece of furniture would have a hard time finding a place to reside.
So when you think about it, going to a luxurious apartment to have drinks with an ambassador and various other diplomats might not be such a bad thing after all. Not when the alternative is getting home to my closet of an apartment, where the kitchen and the hallway have merged into one, sit on my bed which during the day serves as a sofa, and watch Sex and the City DVD’s on my computer, as I have yet to buy a scart cable to connect my DVD player to my TV. And at least tonight I’ll be getting drinks. I’m hoping for cocktails but will settle for wine. Red wine is always cool in my book.
I wish today weren’t Friday, because on Fridays the other secretary isn’t here and I can’t take my usual lunch walk down by the water and past all the other, fancier, embassies in the Diplomat City. Getting some fresh air, and more importantly, some sun, really does help me survive the weariness of most afternoons at this office. Yet, I guess a missed lunch walk is a decent price to pay for the week to be over.
Although I am excited about going to the Ambassador’s residence for drinks tonight, I’d much rather just go home and indulge in my Sex and the City addiction or even read the fabulous book that was given to me by Matilda on my birthday. A large glass of red, a good book and rattling rain on the conservatory roof, while cuddled up under a blanket, enfolded in a warm, big couch; that would be my ideal Friday night tonight. But I have no conservatory, I have no red wine, nor the money to buy any, and as a matter of fact I don’t even have a couch as I live in a tiny studio where such a piece of furniture would have a hard time finding a place to reside.
So when you think about it, going to a luxurious apartment to have drinks with an ambassador and various other diplomats might not be such a bad thing after all. Not when the alternative is getting home to my closet of an apartment, where the kitchen and the hallway have merged into one, sit on my bed which during the day serves as a sofa, and watch Sex and the City DVD’s on my computer, as I have yet to buy a scart cable to connect my DVD player to my TV. And at least tonight I’ll be getting drinks. I’m hoping for cocktails but will settle for wine. Red wine is always cool in my book.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
I don't secretly want to punch slow walking people in the back of their heads
as the group I've joined on Facebook suggests. On the contrary, I'm very open about my desire to punch, kick, scratch and yell at them. And seriously, what is it with these slow walking people who are very determined to get in front of you, only to pretty much stop dead the minute they've managed to squeeze in, bringing you to a sudden halt and causing you to spill coffee all over yourself?
And how can people be so totally unaware of what's going on around them? How can they occupy an entire sidewalk, and when you're trying to get past they don't move an inch, even though they can clearly hear your heavy breathing and discrete (or not so discrete) coughs, indicating that you want to get past them. But no, instead you're forced to step down on the street and risk getting hit by a car.
And what's with those people who just walk slowly, and even though they're alone they walk in the middle of the sidewalk. Any normal person would walk on one side, right? So you're trying to pass them, but somehow they mysteriously manage to walk slightly to the left just as you're trying to pass them on that side, only to walk slightly to the right when you're trying that side instead.
And these flat escalators, whatever they're called. They're clearly not escalators as, well clearly they don't escalate. Conveyor belt? Anyway, so why would anyone in their right mind stand still on those? Clearly they're meant to transport you faster to the other side of building, they're not a place for a rest. And those who do walk, but slowly and in the middle, do they really think that everyone else wants to walk at the same slow fucking pace as they are? Show some respect and keep to the right for the love of humanity!
Maybe I'm just an abnormally fast walking person, but I'm of the opinion that if I still have to get from A to B, I might as well do it fast. Could be because I'm extremely restless, no matter how exhausted I am from a workout, I always walk down the escalator, because I cannot stand just standing there. And if I have to wait five minutes for a bus that would then take five minutes to get me where I need to go, I'd rather walk the 20 minutes to that place than stand still for 5.
Knowing this, imagine how tormented I felt at that meeting yesterday, stuck in a chair which my ass did not leave in over three hours. Agonizing it was, agonizing indeed.
And how can people be so totally unaware of what's going on around them? How can they occupy an entire sidewalk, and when you're trying to get past they don't move an inch, even though they can clearly hear your heavy breathing and discrete (or not so discrete) coughs, indicating that you want to get past them. But no, instead you're forced to step down on the street and risk getting hit by a car.
And what's with those people who just walk slowly, and even though they're alone they walk in the middle of the sidewalk. Any normal person would walk on one side, right? So you're trying to pass them, but somehow they mysteriously manage to walk slightly to the left just as you're trying to pass them on that side, only to walk slightly to the right when you're trying that side instead.
And these flat escalators, whatever they're called. They're clearly not escalators as, well clearly they don't escalate. Conveyor belt? Anyway, so why would anyone in their right mind stand still on those? Clearly they're meant to transport you faster to the other side of building, they're not a place for a rest. And those who do walk, but slowly and in the middle, do they really think that everyone else wants to walk at the same slow fucking pace as they are? Show some respect and keep to the right for the love of humanity!
Maybe I'm just an abnormally fast walking person, but I'm of the opinion that if I still have to get from A to B, I might as well do it fast. Could be because I'm extremely restless, no matter how exhausted I am from a workout, I always walk down the escalator, because I cannot stand just standing there. And if I have to wait five minutes for a bus that would then take five minutes to get me where I need to go, I'd rather walk the 20 minutes to that place than stand still for 5.
Knowing this, imagine how tormented I felt at that meeting yesterday, stuck in a chair which my ass did not leave in over three hours. Agonizing it was, agonizing indeed.
What about my shopping trip?
This whole financial crisis situation is really getting me down. It hasn't really been affecting me that much, or at all reallly, to be honest. I mean I have no money anyway, be it boom or recession. And I don't have a mortgage, but if I did I would probably be better off, what with the lower interest rates and all.
But, now I just realized that although I thought I could escape the crisis and get out safely on the other side, it will seriously affect my trip to America in August. Last summer, a dollar cost around 6 kronor, a bit less at times even. Today it cost 8,80 and it's expected to go up over 9. And the euro has gone from 9,50 to over 11. Damn those fools who said no to the euro, look where we are now.
Even though I'm not going to America to shop, I was still looking forward to the added value that it would bring to my trip. Many things will still undoubtedly be cheaper than they are here, but a hell of a lot more expensive than they would have been last summer. Why oh why did I have to be unemployed and broke beyond belief when the American economy was still bleeding worse than the Swedish?
Instead of shopping for clothes, perhaps I'm just going to have to shop the bars for a tall, handsome American man. Or a cocktail. Or perhaps these days you can get them two for one, I've been told that sales are huge right now.
But, now I just realized that although I thought I could escape the crisis and get out safely on the other side, it will seriously affect my trip to America in August. Last summer, a dollar cost around 6 kronor, a bit less at times even. Today it cost 8,80 and it's expected to go up over 9. And the euro has gone from 9,50 to over 11. Damn those fools who said no to the euro, look where we are now.
Even though I'm not going to America to shop, I was still looking forward to the added value that it would bring to my trip. Many things will still undoubtedly be cheaper than they are here, but a hell of a lot more expensive than they would have been last summer. Why oh why did I have to be unemployed and broke beyond belief when the American economy was still bleeding worse than the Swedish?
Instead of shopping for clothes, perhaps I'm just going to have to shop the bars for a tall, handsome American man. Or a cocktail. Or perhaps these days you can get them two for one, I've been told that sales are huge right now.
all the weirdos gathered in one room
Why is it that some people are just so goddamn perky? Went to a fitness class today, and this one girl, this tiny, cute little blond thing, was jumping around, smiling from ear to ear and basically just looked like a happy little rubber ball. How do you get like that? I mean I sort of enjoy working out, and it makes you feel good about yourself afterwards and all that crap, but seriously. It's impossible to enjoy a workout THAT much.
Then there was this other lady, probably getting close to her 60's, with long, braided, (definitely not natural) blond hair, with a bright orange top and lipstick to go with it. And another one with hair that just went way too far below her ass.
What's wrong with people these days? Is it really that hard to be normal?
Then there was this other lady, probably getting close to her 60's, with long, braided, (definitely not natural) blond hair, with a bright orange top and lipstick to go with it. And another one with hair that just went way too far below her ass.
What's wrong with people these days? Is it really that hard to be normal?
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Oh dear mother of god
I made a huge mistake today. I went to a political meeting in my town. Not only did I have no clue about most of the things they talked about, I'm a new member of the party and also very new in this town, thus many issues that were brought up were brand new to me. But to add to the misery, the meeting lasted for almost 3,5 hours! That's an insanely long time to have to endure when you've just worked all day. And I swear to god, out of the 30 or so people that were there, 20 of them will be dead by the time I have my first child. I was by far the youngest person in the room, a few people seemed to be around 40, but the majority really was over 70.
As many people my age, my wallet rarely has cash in it, and today was no exception. This caused me a bit of embarrassment when it was time for coffee break and everyone was required to pay 50 kronor for their coffee and cake. I just didn't have any money to pay with, so I just sat where I was, texted some people and pretended to be very focused on what I was doing. Luckily only one lady commented on my not eating cake and drinking coffee, and said that there was tea too, if I didn't drink coffee. So I lied and said that I had just had coffee with a friend and really couldn't have any more. I generally avoid telling lies, but little white lies to save your dignity are alright, aren't they?
Now I just got home and I'm pretty much ready to hit the sack. And tomorrow I will wake up yet again, not feeling rested because I went to bed too late. Then again, even when I do get my eight hours of sleep, I find it hard to get out of bed in the morning. God, whoever invented the alarm should be severely punished!
As many people my age, my wallet rarely has cash in it, and today was no exception. This caused me a bit of embarrassment when it was time for coffee break and everyone was required to pay 50 kronor for their coffee and cake. I just didn't have any money to pay with, so I just sat where I was, texted some people and pretended to be very focused on what I was doing. Luckily only one lady commented on my not eating cake and drinking coffee, and said that there was tea too, if I didn't drink coffee. So I lied and said that I had just had coffee with a friend and really couldn't have any more. I generally avoid telling lies, but little white lies to save your dignity are alright, aren't they?
Now I just got home and I'm pretty much ready to hit the sack. And tomorrow I will wake up yet again, not feeling rested because I went to bed too late. Then again, even when I do get my eight hours of sleep, I find it hard to get out of bed in the morning. God, whoever invented the alarm should be severely punished!
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