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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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...

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...

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!

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.

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!

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?

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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!

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?

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.

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?

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!

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.

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.