The news from my head

I just found the change font color function, so, don't mind if I do!
It has been a couple of very uneventful days here lately. In case I haven't complained to you personally about it, I have been awfully sick with a cold that I hope is going to be over soon but is lingering in my ear making me deaf and kind of dizzy if I tilt my head to one side. Soon I will have consumed an entire jar of honey, a little lemon shaped bottle of lemon juice, and who knows, maybe 20-30 bags of tea. Taking into account that each bag is reused once or twice, that's a lot of tea. I have watched a lot of TV, including a cheerful little old film today featuring the Swedish armed forces in training camp, which as far as I could tell involved a lot of practical jokes and chasing down cute nurses to ask them out for dinner. There were subtitles (in Swedish) which gave me at least a chance at understanding what was going on. I have slept a lot. I have patted a lot of kitties. Well, the same two kitties, but lots of times. I have not, however, done any thinking about what is coming up in the next semester, or how I'm feeling now besides congested, or what I want to accomplish before its really all over and I fly back to the US again. I am having trouble thinking, generally speaking, partly because I am asleep all of the time and therefore don't have any conception of what date or day of the week it is. Also, I haven't left the house except once since I got here, so I don't know very well what the weather is like. And most of my social interactions have been extremely cute and pleasing conversations in Danish with a three year old that go like this: JONAS "bim baum pffffftt!!" ME "bim baum pfffft!" JONAS " Bim! Baum! PFFFFFFFFTTTT!" ME "Bim Baum PFFFFFFTTT!!!"..., or this conversation we had a few days ago: JONAS "Now I am going to sit...HERE." ME "Now I am going to sit... HERE." JONAS "Now I am going to sit... HERE!" ME "Now I am going to sit... on YOU." JONAS "Noooooo!!!" Like I said, this is something I enjoy a lot, but when you don't know what day of the week it is, or what its like outside, or what people are saying most of the time, its hard to feel in control and clear and ready to do some good thinking. Also, I am a bit distracted by two things. Firstly, I keep thinking something is scraping on the outside of the house, like the time squirrels got inside the porch roof at home, when in fact it is the cat eating out of its food dish. Secondly, the fact that my ear is full of junk or something means that I can hear what sounds like approaching footsteps but what actually is my heartbeat pounding in my ear.

The problem is I feel like it would be really good to do some thinking. Before Christmas in the week after I left Stockholm, I was feeling really weird, every night I was having anxious dreams where I would be in a situation that I had worried about but had gone fine in real life but in my dream the things I worried would happen came true. It wasn't really dramatic, just stuff like I took the last piece of cake and in my anxious dream everyone was mad at me - JUST AS I'D FEARED! I still feel kind of unsettled, even though I haven't had these dreams since I've been here in Denmark. I was kind of fixating on all of the sad, awkward or upsetting things that have happened or could have happened, and it would just be really nice to have something else to fill my head with. Did I mention I am also compulsively checking my email and facebook? Yeah, I need something to think about. Wow that sentence just brought these two songs to mind. #1 That part in the Buffy musical where Buffy is singing that song about the apathy resulting from being pulled out of heaven by her friends to the dancing demon "Please, just give me something to sing about!" (replace sing with think) #2 the song in the musical South Pacific song called Happy Talk where bloody Mary gives relationship advice to the young Lieutenant who is in love with her daughter "Talk about the moon, floating in the sky..." (replace talk with think).

Actually, I see no reason why I shouldn't continue this exercise for the rest of the song. Maybe it will give me some good advice.

"Happy think, keep thinkin' happy think Think about things you'd like to do.
You got to have a dream, If you don't have a dream, How you gonna have a dream come true?
Think about the moon floatin' in the sky Lookin' at a lily on the lake; Think about a bird learnin' how to fly. Makin' all the music he can make. Think about a star lookin' like a toy Peekin' through the branches of a tree; Think about the girl, think about the boy Countin' all the ripples on the sea. Happy think, keep thinkin' happy think, Think about things you'd like to do. You got to have a dream, If you don't have a dream How you gonna have a dream come true? If you don't think happy, and you never have a dream, Then you'll never have a dream come true!

Aus Hamburg; or This isn't Kansas, Dorothy

Is it strange that the first thing I noticed about being in Germany was the group of excited teenagers playing Foosball/table soccer in the corner of the coffeeshop/bar/club I ended up in? I think I have finally given up being jealous of people who are really good at Foosball; it doesn't interest me at all anymore.

It's hard to tell how I am feeling right now. I left Stockholm without really thinking about what that means. And right now what that means is I can't eat pepperkakor non-stop or go out and buy a kanelbulle for breakfast at noon, or go to Hötorget to get yelled at by the vegetable market people, or eavesdrop on people and understand some of what they are saying. German sounds like complete nonsense to me, and I didn't really realize that Swedish doesn't sound like a bunch of random sounds anymore - it sounds like Swedish which i sometimes somewhat understand.

Actually, I left Stockholm in a mess, perhaps epitomized by this picture. Ryanair's weight limits inspired me to wear as much of my clothes as possible, which as it turns out included 4 pairs of pants, with 3 skirts on top, three dresses, 3 shirts, 2 sweaters, 1 sweater vest and 2 coats. Oh yeah, and 3 scarves. Take that, Ryanair! Also I almost missed my flight, as in I was running towards the plane on the runways at 2:20 and the flight was supposed to leave at 2:30. Completely my fault, but still it had the feeling of "why is this ALWAYS HAPPENING TO ME at the end of the semester?"

I miss knowing where to go, at least sort of, even if I got lost walking Pepe in Gamla Stan and ended up in Slussen after walking to Statshuset, and I miss all of my Swedish friends. I don't have any German friends, although I thought about asking Erik's neighbors to play games with me, they might think I am a creep or mildly retarded or maybe they don't speak English; either way I'm afraid to knock on doors of complete strangers just because I'm lonely.

my last Friday in Stockholm, and what am I doing?

I thought I lost this post, but blogger is smarter than i am and autosaves everything that i do. So here is what I was thinking about last Friday.



I really can't believe this is the last day! Tomorrow morning around noon I will leave for Hamburg, where I will meet up with Erik and then together we are going to spend Christmas in Denmark with Ditte and Lars and the whole family I suppose.

Tonight I think I will be having my last earthenware glass of mjöd with Alexandra (from Belgium) and Linnea (from Sweden!) and then sledding with my housemates on garbage sacks down the avenues of Gamla Stan (yippie!)

OH, I learned a new word yesterday, no WEDnesday. It was one of Siri's favorite words: upplopp. It means "riot"

Today around noon I saw a jul konsert I think it was called at Norra Real, the school that Linnea goes to. It was like an end of the year talent show/concert for the last day of school before break. There was a group of dancers who did a routine to Michael Jackson songs, and then maybe 30 kids got up and sang something about giving your heart away for Christmas only to have it broken the next day... and then came the 3 or 4 teenage girls who thought they were hot shit singing Christmas classics with as sexy of an inflection as they could muster (some were pretty good, the sexy version of White Christmas kind of threw me off though). BUT THE BEST was the very last guy who was just a guy who could play the bagpipes and then stomped/marched around the stage playing the bagpipes for like 10 minutes, ending with a bagpipe rendition of the Swedish national anthem. Oh, and they also distributed the prize for the winner of the gingerbread house competition. Fun!

Its really pretty here now with snow everywhere. Last night at the apartment we had a "pyssel kväll" which actually just means "crafts evening" but its something people do around Christmas time - you drink glögg and then take oranges and make patterns by sticking cloves in them so that you can tie a ribbon around them and hang them in your window to smell good. We ate goat cheese on pepperkakor, and I made spinach artichoke dip and we also had some wine so it was pretty successful.

Its three o'clock now and I'm watching the sunlight disappear behind the building next door. I still have a lot to do this afternoon - pack and weight my bags, mail the stuff that doesn't fit within the weight limit, oi, I don't know what else. It doesn't feel very dramatic because I'm not REALLY leaving, I'm just going to Denmark, but at the same time I won't be living in Stockholm any more and that is actually a big change. I can always visit, but this is the end of a four month long romance with the city and now I have to say adieu and I don't really know how to feel.

What???

totally random guy sitting behind me.. asks in swedish if I know much about computers as I sit here typing and checking my email. Then, oh you're american. He wanted to scan something. Told him to go to a place where they have scanners. He could tell I was being sarcastic. Said, "America. That's not a country anyone would want to be from." I said, "Last time I checked, you can't choose what country you're born into."
He says, "who knows? We're just little ants in a huge universe. We think we know so much but we know so little."
"you know," he says, I thought you were a lot older, with your grey hair. Why would a person choose to look so much older when they are young?"
WEll, I responded, I didn't realize that i looked older. I was bored. That's why, and so I died it blue and that was fun and I don't care how old I look.

"oh its blue is it."

Yes""

We continued to chat like this (why are you here, where are you staying, oh punk was coming out in my time, the revival is not the same as the original...) I asked him about the small oriental looking doll pinned to his bright red women's coat with fuzzy black lapels. He said, "oh this. I borrowed this. tomorrow I'm playing music on a train platform. It's traditional you know, they give out bread. I didn't want to wear a hood (santa cap) like all the others. So I borrowed this and I will wear a sparkly hat. I'm conducting. I play so much music.

you know, he said, I can tell that you are heavy in yourself.
What? I said. What exactly do you mean?

"I don't believe this," he said, "but some people, who have lived several lives before this one, they're like that." "I don't know how else to say it. When i was younger, i thought I was so adult and mature, and I acted so grown up. But everyone's racist. I think its better If we just get it out and struggle with our own demons. just struggle with it. But 80 percent of the population shouldn't be allowed to vote. That's not just Sweden or America or Belgium. But the whole world. Most people are just interested in drinking and partying on and sex and don't give a shit about anything else. I'm not saying that you don't like drinking and partying on and all that stuff, but it just seems like you have it figured out."

"I have to go smoke now" he said and put on his fitted red jacket.

I'll watch your plastic cups, I said.

Thanks

I'm in Love!

With the National Library of Sweden!

I've been here all day and all afternoon yesterday and probably all day tomorrow! Its everything a girl could ever want from a library. Huge rooms with lofted ceilings and dark green furniture filled with old looking books of every kind. I have been sitting here reading to my heart's content about the development of the Swedish fashion industry which is fascinating! If you ever need a break, there is a restaurant/cafe in the basement, and you can buy cool (?, i think so) gifts at the information desk, like metal bookends in the likeness of Selma Lagerloff, or August Strindberg, or Statshuset. Also, to the rear of the library lies Humlegården, a classy park that contains the sculpture of Carl Linnaeus that was made by a sculptor that I am supposedly related too.

Why is it that you spend a long time somewhere (I think 4 months is a long time) and don't meet your one true love until the very last week? I want to come here every day for the rest of my life; its true love!!!

It kind of reminds me of entering a temple when you come inside. You aren't allowed to bring any coats or outside bags inside the library because they house all the important documents of Sweden or something of the sort, so you have to go through this brief transformation into a worthy visitor in the coat room before you are allowed to enter. And its just such a beautiful building. I will have to look up who the architect is.

But also I have to keep reading because I only have 2 more days left to finish a 10 page paper on masculinity in fashion in Sweden, or at least that's what I hope its about, and I hope to work at the student pub for the second to last time tomorrow night and probably consume a fair amount of alcoholic beverages, so I really need to book it today before the library closes at 8. I just get overcome with this GIANT LOVE whenever I come here!

rando info

Sometimes I listen to songs that used to make me sad (or at least emotional), just to test if they still make me sad. Strange? Bad idea? Yes, yes. But its an interesting way to stay awake when its 3am and a half finished paper is staring you in the face and all your good ideas puttered out half an hour ago.
Here's the list, in no particular order:

SONG (ARTIST) ---> MADE ME SAD?

1. I'm Sorry (Feist) ---> No. Ha! Not a chance, Feist. You're spent girl.
2. Float On (Modest Mouse) ---> Yes, kind of.
3. King of Carrot Flowers Part 1 (Neutral Milk Hotel) ---> Yes.
4. Fresh Feeling (Eels) ---> Emotional yes, but more hopeful than sad. So I guess the answer is No.
5. Kanske Ar Jag Kar I Dig (Jens Lekman) ---> Yes...

...I am realizing as I do this that the entertainment I'm getting from writing this down prevents me from really being sad... so the data is no longer accurate, but I would love to add to this list in the future. One last one!

6. Coupla Easy Things (Bishop Allen) ---> "I need someone to sing me to sleep" Uh, yes? But I'm not really playing anymore.

Actually number 5 and 6 were kind of cheating because they have been making me sad this last week. You should pick songs that epitomized your sadness months or years ago and see if those suckers still make you sad.

Short Story

"Bad day, this day" remarked the young man with the newspaper under his arm, as he slowly surveyed the cakes and sandwiches under their glass covers
"Yes, I know. I spotted a limpet this morning. Actually just around the corner here," replied the man behind the counter.
"Yes, yes of course. Just coffee please," said the young man, now concentrating completely on a sign reading "caution: alcohol consumption during pregnancy may cause birth defects". Limpets can cause any number of things, thought the young man.

Of all days, he thought. He poured the cream carefully, not too much not too little. This coffee would not be good, it never was, but that is not the most important of all things. He must drink it while he reads the paper. He must read the paper as well, for how could a man like himself walk around in a dream like a poet or one who is in love? No, it is best to know what is going on, even if the news is always depressing and the writing shoddy or superficial.

Abruptly, the young man let the newspaper drop to the table, got up, and walked back over to the counter. "I've forgot," he began quietly, "is the refill included?"

"First one is free, after that fifty cents will do. There are people who would come here in the morning and take up space all day without buying anything else after that first cup. Not you of course," finished the shop owner with a wink entirely becoming to his friendly, bearded face and simple red plaid shirt.

"Hmmph." Santa Claus, thought the young man. Looks just like Santa Claus, but hair's not white. He was not an unfriendly person, this young man. Not in the least. The shop keeper seems to understand this, and continues his business completely nonplussed by the young man's response.

Picking up the newspaper again, he opened it to some page in the middle and began reading. "Abortion Issue Plagues Health Care Bill. Passions heat up as the Senate begins to discuss language limiting women's access to abortion in the proposed health care bill..." Yes, and senators beating each other with canes! exclaimed the young man excitably, but also with somber darkness. No one heard him, as he mostly thought and spoke within the privacy of his own mind. This issue, like many others to the young man, was frustrating to the point of hilarity, which is precisely what made reading the newspaper so difficult, even on a good day.

He set the paper down for the second time, somewhat hesitantly. It just wouldn't do to go on reading this paper today. Maybe tomorrow. There's always tomorrow, new news, new paper, new cup of coffee. New me? "Ha!" chuckled the young man, this time out loud but attracting no attention from the other cafe patrons. Compared to the bitter dark feeling evoked by the newspaper article, this laughter was simple and spontaneous. "Hmmm," thought the young man, "Me change? No, not really. I am me, aren't I? I'm can't become you, for example," he continued, glancing over to the back corner where another, slightly younger man sat engrossed in a book, reaching up to adjust his think black lenses from time to time, and tapping his converse clad left foot unceasingly. "Nor could I become you," this time looking in the opposite direction towards two people looking so deeply into each others' eyes they apparently could see nothing else. "Especially not you, for how could I be two people at once? That's ridiculous!" This thought continued to amuse him, and so he smiled and said it again quietly under his breath, "ridiculous."

Well, this has been a bad day. Broken hearts and all that. He directed his thoughts towards the scraggly plant growing beside his right arm on the window sill, but not because he thought the plant could hear him exactly. He was not insane, this young man. It was difficult to tell what kind of plant it was. Of course one could with an average knowledge of flowering plants, but this plant was not in flower, and what fun is it to recognize a petunia from a daisy or a rose when you just might be wrong and it's really a thistle? You never know with flowers. But of course no one plants thistles in flower pots, and they are quite recognizable without blossoms in any case.

"She.... hmm. She just doesn't love me," came the thought, haltingly, cautiously. The young man picked up his spoon and began dumping spoon fulls of lukewarm coffee onto his napkin. "She doesn't love me at all," the thought continued, this time with more conviction.
"I must go home," thought the man anxiously. "The coffee has become cold."

And with that, he pushed back his chair, put on his coat and scarf, and walked purposefully out the door. No one looked up as he left, but several minutes later the shopkeeper came by and picked up the half full glass and the forgotten newspaper. Returning to the counter, the man began to read, and continued until he had read the horiscope, the comics, and the weather, thinking only that perhaps tomorrow he would need to salt the sidewalk in front of the shop, "with all these damn false-alarm predictions for snow," he mused. But it would be bad for the limpet either way.

The Story of Brita and Her Ineffectual New Deodorant

One gray fall day in Stockholm, Brita went to her dresser only to discover that the waterlily and freshmint scent Dove deodorant purchased at Target almost four months ago was on its last legs. Which is to say, it wouldn't be long before its time in this world was over. Naturally, it would have to be replaced, but with what? Everyone knows the old adage, Never Step in the Same River Twice, but only slightly less well known is Never Purchase the Same Flavor of Deodorant Twice. Life is too short. And the river keeps moving so its impossible. So Brita did what any well-meaning but somewhat clueless young lady in her position would have done and headed straight down to T-Centralen and the Åhléns department store to purchase some deodorant/anti-perspirant. What she should have realized is that department stores may be easy to locate but do not care so many health products and the ones they do carry are expensive, but that story is for another time. Instantly a deodorant claiming Cloudberry Jasmine Scent caught her attention. Delicious! she thought, and made her way to the cashier. "That will be 10 dollars in your home currancy" was the cashier's reply. Ouch! thought Brita, But there's no turning back now. She brought the Cloudberry Jasmine 24h Anti-Perspirant with no alcohol made with Eco-Cert. Cotton Oil back home and gave it a whirl. Wow what a fantastic smelling little deoderant! was her response. It was only later, about 1 hour to be exact, that she realized what kind of a friend she had in her new deodorant. Yes, in only a matter of an hour, this fickle little Cloudberry Jasmine 24h Anti-Perspirant had completely ceased to work or nay, even exist.

Alas! Betrayed! Deoderant, when you said to me that you were 100% Natural Fragrance of Sweden, I thought that I could trust you. I thought we would be a team, you and I. And now? Now I don't know what to think. I still put you on every day, hoping that this day will be different. But how long do you expect me to wait around like this? I have things I want to accomplish in my life, and for me to be able to do this, I need to be secure in knowing I can do them without my armpits getting damp.

So that was the story of Brita and Her New Deodorant. It's really kind of a little bit sad. But most true stories are.

Where have all the slugs gone?

It has been a long time since I have seen one of these around. It's not something you miss at first, but then later you realize how disappointed you are when you eye a stick suspiciously, carefully stepping around it only to realize that it was not a slug. So yes, I do miss avoiding slugs on the sidewalk. I had a good weekend, thanks for asking. But I ate way too much after attending both an all-you-can-eat jazz brunch at the club called Mosebacke and a dinner party at Anna Cassel's host family's house. That was one of the best dinner parties I have EVER been to. The only thing better than being invited into somebody's home to share food with them and all of their friends is being requested to do so in costume. So I still think the March 16th Halloween party of 2007 hosted by myself, Anna Smith and Toni Yost was an excellent party, because there were costumes involved. But I really had a lovely cozy time Saturday night, and after stuffing myself with food and wine and coffee and cookies, I danced my pants off to Johnny Cash and that Jitterbug song and who knows what else.

Despite having such a good time over this weekend, I am approaching this week with a certain amount of foreboding. I feel unprepared and disorganized, and also tired from all of the excitement of Friday and Saturday. (Friday I went back to the medieval bar in the old town with Anna Cassel and her visiting friend to drink Mead)

This week I need to start writing or at least researching for my final paper for "Women in Swedish Society and Culture", I need to really study some Swedish so that I know my verbs and all that stuff we covered before the midterm, and I need to make a list of the things I still would like to do while I'm in Stockholm. I can't believe it's getting that late in the semester, but we only have 3 or 4 more weekends left. Also, I need to figure out WHEN Thanksgiving is so I can make some cornbread. I made curried squash soup for dinner Friday, but I could make that again too. What else is an absolute Thanksgiving essential, excluding turkey? I would like to make that caramelized onion, apple, and sausage dish that we usually make at home. Pumpkin filling is hard to come by, otherwise I would make some pumpkin cupcakes in my new heart-shaped cupcake pan (!!!! fun!!!!!!). I guess pecan pie is good too.

What are all of you who read this blog of mine doing for Thanksgiving? What are you thinking about eating?

I suppose its time for bed. I have to get up in 5 hours :( Goodnight!

...and finally, Uppsala (for a short time)

Mora (Anders Zorn's house)

Sundborn!

Bananafish are not real - but I forget this from time to time

Before I write about my short foray into another part of Sweden, I will just rant for a minute or two about the things that are irritating me at the moment. Perhaps in list form?
1. Darkness. It's dark at 4pm, and then I feel like going home. I never noticed how much beauty light adds to any situation until now.
2. The "how do you like it here" question. Absolutely everyone I meet wants a Sweden-USA comparison/analysis, which is fun to talk about the first 50 times, but now, not so much.
3. The "aren't you going home for break?!" question. One of the other study abroad students today told me very seriously that I should really consider going home, because I will be getting lonely by that time. I told her that if I could I would, but she seemed to think I was just being stubborn, trying to hold out in Europe to show how tough I am :D This ties into my earlier and ongoing frustration at people who treat you like a spoil-sport if you can't spend money as freely as they do. Its not that I don't enjoy doing spontaneous, impractical things, and its not that I don't like sharing, and its definitely not that I want to hoard my money. I wish that people would be a little more sensitive about this, but they just sort of don't understand.

Ooookey. I think that is enough ranting for the moment.

I really enjoyed my trip to Falun, Sundborn, Mora and Uppsala. It was nice to just go with just a basic idea of where I would stay and what I would do, because it gave me the opportunity to realize that I can improvise and survive all by myself in a strange place. Also, I had 4 balls of yarn and an idea for a scarf, which is just such a good way to venture out into the world. "Here I come world! And I've got for balls of yarn!" This is really the only way to travel.

I think the best part of the trip was by far on Wednesday night and Thursday during the day when I was in Falun and Sundborn, where Carl Larsson's house is. I love Carl Larsson's house. I would definitely live there, and the walls are covered with Karin Larsson's weavings, Carl's paintings, and cute little sayings here and there like "Tell you what: Be good and happy!". The only other person on the tour was an economic anthropologist from New Mexico who at first alarmed me by the size of the fur poofs on her gloves (never trust a lady with fur poofs! I thought) but she was very funny and interesting and we had a fika together back in Falun. The "Central Cafe" in Falun was another great part of the trip. I really liked the guy that ran the shop; he was dressed in red plaid, and whistled along to the radio all afternoon, and in general was just incredibly good humored and friendly. We talked about Swedish music, and he invited me to come listen to a folk music festival in Falun on Saturday, but unfortunately I had a ticket back to Stockholm. Wednesday night when I first arrived in Falun I went to a local pub and met two guys there and had a good time talking to them for a long time. Then I went back to my hostel which was an old jail, and went to sleep behind iron-barred windows. Ha ha! Funny! I almost forgot it was a prison until I read the cleaning instructions, which referred to the room as a "cell".

The biggest crisis of the trip was probably my first night in Mora (Thursday night) where I met a really nice cat outside my hostel. We played for a long time, and then I went inside to presumably go to sleep but the cat came around to my window and meowed and beat on the window with its little kitty paws and generally made itself seem totally desperate and sad!!! I can't stand that sort of thing!!! Plus it was snowing. I REALLY wanted to let the cat inside but I felt like I would be betraying the trust of the nice lady who own the hostel who was giving me access to a nice kitchen, laundry room and sauna. It was a big dilemma, and the thought of the cat out in the cold made me so anxious I couldn't sleep. Also I had had 5 cups of coffee that day.

Also in Mora I decided to give myself a nice warm lunch rather than continue to eat my fruit and hard bread. It was good, but they did something to the potatoes, like put them through a grinder, that made them look like rice which confused me for a long while. I ordered curry with banana fish, and was surprised to find a plate full of bananas and fish and not a banana fish. At this point I realized that banana fish is the very sad fish in a J.D. Salinger story called "A Perfect Day for Bananafish"
"Miss Carpenter. Please. I know my business," the young man said. "You just keep your eyes open for any bananafish. This is a perfect day for bananafish."

"I don't see any," Sybil said.

"That's understandable. Their habits are very peculiar." He kept pushing the float. The water was not quite up to his chest. "They lead a very tragic life," he said. "You know what they do, Sybil?"

She shook her head.

"Well, they swim into a hole where there's a lot of bananas. They're very ordinary-looking fish when they swim in. But once they get in, they behave like pigs. Why, I've known some bananafish to swim into a banana hole and eat as many as seventy-eight bananas." He edged the float and its passenger a foot closer to the horizon. "Naturally, after that they're so fat they can't get out of the hole again. Can't fit through the door."

"Not too far out," Sybil said. "What happens to them?"

"What happens to who?"

"The bananafish."

"Oh, you mean after they eat so many bananas they can't get out of the banana hole?"

"Yes," said Sybil.

"Well, I hate to tell you, Sybil. They die."

"Why?" asked Sybil.

"Well, they get banana fever. It's a terrible disease."

Here are pictures from Wednesday night and Thursday morning in Falun.
I will post a new post in like 5 minutes with the rest of the pictures :)

Dalarna, my darling

I have officially made travel plans (bought tickets, made pasta, packed clothes) for tomorrow to go to the Dalarna region to go to these two places: Sundborn (via Falun) where Carl Larsson's house is, and Mora where artist Anders Zorn has a museum and house as well. Wish me luck! This trip is so much more expensive than I wish it was :( but I guess that's what you get for traveling alone. And sleeping indoors. But I will maybe save some money by eating only coffee and bread :) :) :) This is my hope at least. I know my host dad thinks its funny that I am bringing all my food with me, but food is really expensive!!! I think tomorrow morning before I leave I will bake the squash I bought a few weeks ago :S and salt and butter it and eat it for dinner on Thursday... or lunch Friday? I don't know. It's kind of heavy.

Anyways, bon voyage to me, and see you again Saturday if all goes well.

P.S. Mom told me not to eat squash for three days in a row for the reason that it will make me unhappy- I think she's right! Also I just realized that eating out in Stockholm is probably a lot more expensive than in Dalarna, so I just might be eating real lunch after all.

P.P.S. WHERE IS JON GARREY WHEN I NEED HIM!? Dear Jon, your travel planning skills are excellent. I just wanted to tell you so. You would have had this trip figured out WEEKS ago. Instead, tomorrow morning I am calling the place I hope to sleep tomorrow to see if they have any rooms :P

The Slow and Painful Death of McAfee

My anti virus software must be running out? or something. Because it has been jumping up every two minutes all up in arms about how it can't run a virus scan. I'm kind of irritated but also worried because I don't really know what it is doing. Do I need McAfee? Can I get something for free that does the same thing that won't start freaking out when its at the end of its prescription? Ugh.

Fall Break Number 2

Ok. Here's the deal. I have decided to write more posts more often instead of not writing for a whole week and disappointing everyone who actually reads this. But the trade-off is this: my posts will be less interesting. Do you think I just sit around here doing interesting things all day? Most days I do some homework and check my email and eat dinner and take the subway. But some days, for example, I take a boat to Latvia. Or see an old man dressed in 3 different kinds of plaid on the subway (shirt, pants, socks - sorry I forgot to write about this) or I make soup or plan how to take over the world.

So in this boring post, I will speculate on what I might do tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow.
I feel kind of inflexible, so tomorrow morning if I manage to wake up I should go to the pool and swim. It's good to swim before lunch, because then you are hungry enough to know what you want to eat for lunch. I hate not knowing what to eat, so this is a good idea.

Also tomorrow, perhaps I will buy some pants. The pants I own now are as follows: one pair baggy brown plaid pants, one pair new jeans that are a little too short :(, one pair nice black dress pants, one pair gray corduroy pants meant to be rolled up to knees, one pair dress brown pants, one pair black jeans with repaired rip but every time I wear them they fall down, and one pair of really old jeans that ripped when I tried to protect Tonton from an incoming attacking large dog. Actually this sounds like a lot of pants. But the ripped pants and the saggy pants and short pants are my only jeans. And everybody knows that jeans and pants are not quite the same thing. I am not sure if I can buy pants in Sweden, because ALL Swedish people have skinnier legs than I do, and why would they make pants for a population of large-legged people that doesn't exist?

Tomorrow I may also buy a train, bus or plane ticket to Malmö. It is difficult for me to make up my mind.

Oh! That reminds me; if I do buy a train, bus or plane ticket I must also buy some yarn and borrow some needles and call Mom to ask for the lace pattern I used to make her black scarf, because what else would be as much fun as knitting when I'm on a train for 5 hours? The answer is ping pong, but that is not an option as far as I know. Not when you buy tickets on standby.

So the day after tomorrow is still undecided. I may be wandering around Malmö completely lost, or I may be sleeping my break away right here in Stockholm.

WE SHALL SEE...

Farewell J.A. !!!

I am dedicating a post to J.A. because last night's Halloween party at Gula Villan was the last I will see of him before he leaves Stockholm to go back to his folkhighschool, and I will miss him! I like J.A. because he is a very cool guy, and because he taught me this song:

"whoah, whoah, vi har sluta nian!"

This is probably spelled wrong, but it the song means: "whoah, whoah we have quit the ninth grade!" J.A. explained that this is the song that 9th grades sing when they graduate from that part of their schooling, but its fun to sing it now because everyone in the room has finished the 9th grade a long time ago.

J.A. also taught me to say calm hockey pucks in Swedish, but I forgot how :( Too bad he's leaving!
You can use it to mean "Hey, what's up?" "I'm chill." or "CALM HOCKEY PUCKS!"

More about J.A. He used to have a lot of hair, and then he cut it off.

Actually I like all three of the people in this picture. But J.A. is the one that's leaving, so I am writing about him.

(soggy) Autumn Leaves

This isn't so interesting, but in the course of an evening spent reflecting on random things instead of writing this stupid essay (anger! chomp chomp! gnashing teeth!) I was thinking about fall, and what it is like at home. I realized that a prime adjective for autumn-time at home is "crisp", as in "the crisp autumn air" or "the crisp smell of leaves" or "crisp fall apples". But in Sweden, so far, autumn has been rather damp. There's a lot of rain. So you wouldn't really say "crisp" then, would you? This has huge ramifications! Can you really make "apple crisp" in a place where the fall isn't genuinely crispy?! I don't know! We must go to a higher authority on crispiness:

Kia Shine, crispy (*krispy) expert. or, perhaps the Urban Dictionary, source of infinite wisdom has an aswer?

Reader comments always welcome!!!

Have can, will soup

Wow! I just made some black bean soup which should have been awful, but I love it!
I started out with only a can of black beans. I was hungry. What can you do with a can of beans?
I thought about just warming them up (that's still food, right?), but instead I ended up with this:

1 can black beans, in beanie-water
1 clove garlic, chopped up into bits
generous portion of oregano
2 spoonfuls of the olive oil left over from the stuffed olives I've been eating since sometime before I went to Latvia
cayenne pepper
salt
another spice that smelled good at the time
creme fraiche

And I like it! Or maybe I just like black beans, and you can't really mess them up. I wouldn't serve it to company, but I sure would make it again if I find myself alone with a can of beans!

Another post? Oh my!

Just one more thing. Sweden is getting dark. Next week is midsems week, and Erik is coming for some quality brother-sister bonding time. Then I have a week off, to do what? Hopefully take a train around Sweden, but also to get my act together! I feel like the time is slipping away from me, and I have been spending too much time staying up half the night working at pubs with crazy Swedes. Let me qualify that - crazy Swedes who I love! but still - it makes me feel kind of lost to spend at least part of every week sleeping until 1 or 2pm.

I think I would feel less melancholic right now if I could just complete some piece of work, like a paper, or start knitting a scarf for winter, or do a thorough analysis of my finances. It's strange, but even though I feel more accepted and well-liked as a whole by the group of friends I have met working at Gula Villan (student pub) than I do with my study abroad group, it feels sad not to be spending time with the people on my program. I don't understand, but I guess we have a common experience being exchange students that I don't have with the Swedish students. There's actually a big difference in how it feels to go wandering around the city with another American college student compared to going out with a student who grew up in Stockholm. And its not just that you know where you are going when you go out with a native Stockholmer. Its a difference of perspective. I don't know if I can explain it. But lately I have been feeling strangely ungrounded. I just REALLY need to make muffins with/for someone! It's not like I don't get this feeling back home when I'm at school too. I'm never baking enough with people :(

Here is my proposed travel plans for the winter break:

1. Take a plane or train down to the southern tip of Sweden to Malmö, where I will see one of the largest immigrant communities in Sweden.
2. Take a train North to the university town of Lund.
3. Continue North up the West coast to Göteborg.
4. Somewhere in this area (?) visit the home of Selma Lagerlöf, Swedish author
5. Continue North to Mora to visit the museum/home of Swedish painter Anders Zorn
6. Somewhere in this area, visit Carl Larsson's home

the rest not in coherent order yet:

- visit the town where they make Orrefors crystal
- visit a town in Dalarna region where someone told me there is a cool copper mine
- visit a town in the South where someone told me they make good candy
- visit Uppsala
- make a trip to Okelbo!
- I don't think I can make it on this tour, but I would love to go to Northern Sweden, maybe to Abisko.

We shall see - I haven't bought any tickets yet, and I think financial and time restraints will limit this itinerary a little bit.

Hoppsudderudeeruderrullanlej!

SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY for the crappy correspondence! I haven't written much lately, and I apologize. Thank you Grandma for the letter! I received it last week, and I am in the process of writing back :)

TWO WEEKS AGO: I saw the most amazing of all concerts featuring Steve Gadd on the drums. I was standing approximately 10 feet from his drumset - AMAZING. I couldn't manage to get any signature for me, or Randy :( but while waiting for the band after the show I met a man who writes for a Nordic jazz magazine who was doing an interview with the guitar player after the show. He recommended some Swedish (and some not) jazz musicians for me to listen to:

1. Lars Gullin
2. Jan Johansson
3. EST (Esbjörn Svensson Trio)
4. Bobo Stenson
5. Steve Swallow
6. Carla Bley

Two things struck me about Steve Gadd's playing. First was his ability to play super fast double strokes between his hands and feet, and second was how powerful his sound was. It wasn't just that he was loud - because it wasn't always just loud - but it was always very powerful and leaning ahead.

I was a little surprised at Steve Gadd himself because I think I imagined his appearance from the videos Randy has shown me, which in my head became a little like George Clooney, and in person only his eyes looked lively and healthy and the rest of his face looked at little haggard.

GEORGE CLOONEY VS. STEVE GADD



























ALSO IN BREAKING NEWS:

I learned a new song in Swedish class. It is called "Tycker Du Om Mig", meaning "Do you like me"

Here's how it goes!

Tycker du om mig? Ja, det gör jag!
Är det riktigt säkert? Ja, det är det!
Får jag hålla om dig? Ja, det får du!
Hoppsudderudderudderullanlej.

Köper du ringen? Ja, det gör jag.
Sätter den på fingret? Ja, det gör jag.
Är det riktigt säkert? Ja, det är det.
Hoppsudderudderudderullanlej.

Reser vi till prästen? Ja, det gör vi.
Gifter oss förresten? Ja, det gör vi.
Är det riktigt säkert? Ja, det är det.
Hoppsudderudderudderullanlej.

Quick and dirty translation:

Do you like me? Yes, I do!
Is it really true? Yes it is!
Can I hold you? Yes you can!
Wheeeeee!

Will you buy the ring? Yes I'll do that!
Put it on the finger? Yes I'll do that!
Is it really true? Yes it is!
Wheee!!!

Go we to the priest? Yes we do that!
...and get married? Yes, we do that!
Is it really true? YES IT IS
Wheeeee!!!!!