and there she was again...
Just read through my last entry and read about what I called a temporary break.. well.. though long; here I am again. Haven't given the blogg a thought for six months but suddenly there was time and the thought came crawling into my mind. Of course by now the blogg has lost all it's few readers.. truth be told I only wrote for you guys for a short while in the beginning.. I've written this largely for myself.. ego as I am.. but if you ever come to read this.. well, hello!
Since I last wrote, wow, the world has turned, the sky tumbled falling, the sea rose and the stars fell... and it all deposited me where I started: In Båstad. Nothing and everything..
My life this first year at Trinity has been so hectic, so active and so mindblowing that I don't even know if i did anything at all.. I know so many people that I don't even know where they came from.. 74 new "friends" on facebook.. haha lives are measured in facebook cause it shows the content of lives on display..
.. why are people never content.? Or are we only content when we're truly loved? I'm lucky to have friends and family.. If I had them close that would have been all I need...sometimes I find myself longing for something else... then I go for a jog and the sky is blue, the water is glittering down by the foot of the hill, it's downwards sloping and I put my arms out and fly and there is nothing missing in my life.. I can't wait to go to Jämtland with Naomi and Fia.. two best friends and the most beautiful nature on earth.. and all there is to do is talking and excersising.. I need it to function.
If I could wish for one thing in my life right now it would be a little romance.. a fling.. But I'm working to much to have time for it.. I never have time for it..
I wonder if it will take me six months to write again..
The End
I love Harry Potter.
(For all of you who have not yet finished the book it is safe to continue reading, I wont reveal the ending).
I admit it I am a Harry Potter freak... fan... nerd, you name it. And not ashamed. It is the end of an era, with the last book released a week ago and read and finished already.
Mixed feelings before the release of the last Potter book.
Thrill- Finally I'll know the ending. Who lives or dies? Voldermort or Potter? Good or evil? The Potter books are simple in a way; classic good or bad set-up and as us fantasy lovers recognize "the choosen one" in the centre of it all. The one with special gifts and powers, extinguised by history and branded for future tasks. These are the foundations of all fantasy books, and darn do I love it everytime I begin a new series.
Sadness- As stated earlier it is the end of an era. I clame to have grown up with Harry, Ron and Hermione and their life and adventures have been my day dream rescue in many a useless math class and their destinies have formed a topic for countless school lunches and bus jerneys around the globe.
Ageing insights- I remember being (what?) twelve and finishing the third book thinking it would be ages and ages before the next book would be released and complaining (and believing) that I would be retired and probably sick with alzheimers when the last book finally would be released. Well, now that day has come and I don't feel that old (but I must be!).
I wonder what JK Rowlings was thinking on the eve before the release. Was she relieved to finally get this shit overwith? Was she nerveuse that people wouldn't like the ending? Was she excited about the publicity? One thing she wasn't concerned of however (and I'm sure of it), was economical issues (so all you need to do to become a millionaire is to wright a book about an emotionaly disturbed wizard with a special talent to catch a flying golden ball while flying on a broomstick?)
I liked the book. I locked myself up and finished it fairly quickly. I liked that some of my suspicions before reading the book were confirmed. Also I liked that I was completely off track with some of my other guesses. It was drama from the first page and enough action to make me all tired, also thrilling enough to make me jump when someone slammed the door too hard (but never having my eyes leave the page). Conlusion is: I am happy with the closing of the circle, the ending of the era , the end (as some would call it).
The theory of it all
Being a single traveller also means never being alone, but also never being with the same people for a very long time. Loving this, but being left with your travel memories scattered around the globe and no one to say "Hey, that reminds me of that time in Laos! You remember?". Nostalgicaly zero points won for single travelling. And as my German friends Lillith put it; people might really want to be interested, or some might even sincerely be; but your adventures are still nothing but pictures or words to them. And to you they are the air you breath, your life defying moments. You think I'm being dramatic? I don't.
This is why I appreciate this past weekend so much. Making a mark, making friends and having them close enough to have a reunion. A nostalgical gathering. Is a wonderful feeling!
This past weekend I went to Lund and met up with Ellinor, Noel, Maria and Linnea, four out of five house mates from this fall. Dublin buddies; if you want.
This is our story:
We have Mickan (the main caracter in this little recollection), new in town, working as an au-pair not knowing a single person in the whole of the green isle. A bit lonely and pathetic.
This girl is walking up Grafton Street when she hears a language she knows (Swedish) without thinking she turns and grabs a surprised girl (Maria) by the arm.
"Hello! I'm new here. How long are you guys in town?"
"Until Christmas, why?"
"Oh great, me too. Can I be your friend?"
"Well, we're going to St. Stephens Green. Wanna come?"
A picknick later and meeting up with Linnea and Ellie as well we just kind of were just that; friends. And so we are still.
A couple of month later, when having quitted/been kicked out from a not-so-nice au pair family. Mickan found herself living amongst these freshly made friends and loving life. I guess this is our story.
The weekend was a great craic! To put it in Dublin fashion. Friday we went out and had dinner at a nice restaurant and afterwards we just stayed in, cozy in Ellie's and Noels great appartment, being nostalgical about life in Ireland. Also we filled eachother in on what we've been up to since we parted in December. Many exciting stories; Maria had some from Australia, Noel had some from South America, I had some from SE Asia and maybe what I found most interessting the tellings of student life in Lund by Linnea and Ellinor.
Saturday, our big night out, started with an amazing football (soccer) game between Mickan and Maria (Djurgården and Elfsborg) which almost made a rip in our friendship when DIF won with two goals in the last five minutes. Me extremely happy and bad at hiding it and Maria the opposite but equally bad at hiding it. But I think this was a good test; us deciding we'll go to the Eurocup together. Allthough hopefully we'll go for the same team then.
We had a nice pree party at Ellie and Noel's and got locked and happy on bag-in-box before heading out into the night, only stoping to almost sing at a kareoke place on the way.
I got my dose of nostalgia and a merry-go-round too. Good weekend it was.
Castella Swedish Open
Of course I am reffering to Tennis Week in Båstad.
I had a lot on my table. Six friends staying with me, coming and going, Working six days in super busy ICA and going out five nights trying not to miss any of the fun. Also trying to catch some of the day time events, but not even having the time to watch one single tennis match.
For those of you who are not familiar with the phenomenon of Tennis Week I'll fill you in. In Sweden the term "Tennis Week" has a special ring to it. It takes place every year in Båstad the week of the Swedish Open tennis tournament. You might think it would be tennis entusiasts coming over to watch the games, but there you are misstaken. Tennis Week is a night time event. It is the place where the young and rich come to play. It is Daddy's money and Champagne. It is the crowd straight from Stureplan and uptown Stockholm. As we like to call them: Bratz. And they invade.
This is how you know a Brat:
1. A male Brat (which is the majority) is easily recognized by it's differantial hairstyle, combed back with an impressive amount of wax it forms a so called Backslick.
2. A Brat's social pattern is also quite distinctive. It's mating ritual is intricate, a combination of butt squeezing and appreciative comments of the female Brat's apperance. Another highly favoured and efficiant mating procedure is the showing of "the fat wallet" followed by the "bying of the drink" (preferably for the female Brat and preferably Champagne).
3. The easiest way to determent a Brat status is by far watching the marking of it´s territory. This event has clear similarities to the animal world. In both worlds the male marks it's ground by the pouring (or peeing) of yellowish liquid on the ground. The only real difference is that the Bratz instead of urine uses Champagne and that in the Brat community it is a bit messier.
But it is not all like that. If you avoid the VIP rooms (not very hard) this week is darn good fun. People from around Sweden and the world are coming to Båstad for a week of jolly good fun. I had six lovely friends staying with me and we had a blast at notorious Pepe's Bodega and Swinging Madison's. There are really only three venues in Båstad which makes it easy to know where the party's at. And the beach is always crowded; don't mind the weather.
For me this was a bag-in-box, beaching, bloody, bold, bum, ba da bom week. If anyone gets what I meen by that you'll get a medal.
Lovely to have Vicki, Bengan and Tess over for a few days. Catching up on the gossip and sipping coffees and Bacardi. Equally amazing to have Maria and Lina staying, nostalgicaly talking Dublin memories (Sorry Bengan!) and getting inside info on how to climb Kebnekaise (will need it).
This week I'm doing the veggie-healthy-non alcholholic- thing. I need it! Just came back from swimming 1km and feel like a queen! Just gotta resist Pepe's on Wednesday...
Parata and Prada
Being met at the airport I realized what it is that I miss from home. Being given meatballs and herring for dinner, mashed potatoes and lingonberry jam; savoury flavors of mummy and distant memories of rushing off for soccer practise. I did not spit it out.
Sleeping in a bed made of clouds and feathers. Taking a shower in hot water. A clean room. Things I didn't know I missed. Thanks Jill, Bjorn and Henrik for letting me into your home and for welcoming me without question. The welcoming part was probably the most treasured of the gifts of Singapore.
Then there was the Lion City.
Arriving around lunchtime Sunday I was met by Jill at the airport ( it felt crazy good to be scouting for someone at arrival) and she put me in the car and we headed straight to Raffles Hotel to consume my very first Singapore Sling (yes Jossan, I had one. Pillutta dig!). For those of you who are not yet enlightened about the Singapore Sling I'll fill you in: Singapore Sling was invented in the Long Bar at Raffles Hotel, Singapore. It was originaly designed for women but became a hit with the men too and for some reason it is world famous. They say it can only be made to perfection at Raffles (which is an enormous hotel complex covering a hole block). The Singapore Sling is as pink as baboon's as and tastes like bubble gum. It is served with a piece of pinapple and a cherry. Use that knowledge in your future lives.
The Long Bar itself is quite a quaint place, which I instantly came to like. It looks like a hub for journalists in the 1940's (which is probably because it was) and they serve excellent peanuts with the shell still on; apperantly it is the only place in Singapore where you are aloud to litter the floor (that would be with peanut shells, they crush under your feet when you walk and make a delightful sound).
After this little adventure I had some time for myself and I decided it was time for a stroll along Orchard Road. I know a few people (you know who you are) who would have made more out of that stroll than I did. I can mention a few who would have gone home with a shopping bag or two. But as it turns out Versage, Prada and YSL are not (or have never been) my preference for my shopping. I did some window shopping though and had a good laugh at the prices with some fellow spartanian people. Then I bought a big ice cream and went home content with my Orchard promenade.
Museum galore. That is another way to describe my trip to Singapore. I had time to visit three excellent museum, with Asian Civilizations Museum at the top and the National History Museum as a nice runner up. Equally I had time to enjoy three exhibitions about Singapore's history (please someone give me a pop-quiz!). Immensely intriguing since they were all angled to perfection and very much "Go Singapore! Best place on the planet. Oh we love the oh glorious nation." Fascinating!
The weather in Singapore is the same everyday. This leads to a serious hole in the small talk portfolio. Where we would say: "What awful weather it was yesterday!" or "Isn't the temperature lovely this morning?", the Singaporians have found a good replacement: They talk food. Singaporians are very serious about their food; I had some lovely food in Singapore. You can enjoy whatever you like in this cultural hub of a city.
Spending time with Jill and Erica (a Canadian girl, living in Singapore, met her in Laos) I had a wonderful four days in the Lion City (I ended up being far to comfortable to leave on Wednesday as planned). The final impressions that I had was that the city was far less sterile than I thought, more humane. Of course it is controlled and censured crazily but they do it very smoothly. It is easy to be in the oblivian if you've grown up in this bubble of a trading hub and I think many Singaporians rather happily are. Scary but true.
Today I entered my sixth and last country. I am currently staying in the capital of Malaysia, for those of you who need to brush up on your geography, it's called Kuala Lumpur.
Tennisveckan
På tennisveckan hade jag celebert besök.. Vici, Bengan och Tess kom och hälsade på. Oj va roligt vi hade!
Aussiafton
Jackson gjorde äkta australiensiskt käk.. skewers
Aussies
Jag och Jossan plockade upp några australiensare på tåget till Köpenhamn.. de kom och bodde hos mig i Båstad en vecka.. Jake, Jackson och Noodels och flickan hoppas jag att ni känner igen vid det här laget