I'm ready.

I'm packed.

I have my pounds.

I have my camera.

I have my plane ticket.

I have my passport.

I have my adrenaline.

Let's hit it.

(It, as in London, won't be hit 'til afternoon tomorrow.  It, as in Malmö and its airport, will be hit today.  Where we're sleeping tonight is yet to be determined.) 

LondonLondonLondon.

The grand adventure within an adventure starts in less than 24 hours. I have an anal retentive to-do list for tomorrow that begins with Wake up and increases in difficulty from there. Well, not difficulty. Proactivity. There we go.

Packing.  Packing should happen.  Considering I spent all of Swedish making a list of the clothes I was bringing, it shouldn't be too bad.  But that's what I thought about coming here, and we all know what happened with my shoes.

Off to see if my pizza's on fire.

Vlog Four: The Week, My Coat, and Stuff

It's Tuesday!

School?

My Swedish and Comparative Politics class starts tomorrow. It's about Sweden...and politics.

Dramatically Challenged

Warning: this is not really about Sweden.  Well...it kind of is.  Well...just read. 


Musical theatre is one of my favorite things in the whole world.  I stole the VHS of Cats from the library as an impressionable child and learned all the songs.  And all the dances.  (Believe me, there is nothing like a six-year-old shaking it to "Macavity: The Mystery Cat.")  As I grew up, I embraced a wide variety of other theatre, but I always came back to musicals.

But why do we, the readers of this non-theatre blog, care? you understandably ask.

Ladies and gentlemen, you care because I care.  And because I will eventually tie it to what I'm doing right now.

For the past two summers, I've been involved with the Aberdeen Community Theatre, a fantastic organization in Aberdeen, South Dakota, a town an hour and a half from where I live.  Two years ago, I played Mrs. Potiphar in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. 

Best dress ever. 

Pictured: Mrs. Potiphar as a commoner, Emily Davis as the Narrator, and Kyle Stugelmayer as choreography wizard, performer, and creator of  previously pictured  BEST DRESS EVER. 

That was the summer before my freshman year of college.  College happened, and before I knew it, summer was fast approaching.  I drove back from Missouri to audition for Chicago in April, and then started rehearsals in May, about a month after everyone else did...because I'm convenient. 

Jeffie's so amused that his only daughter is a twenties tramp with really dark eyebrows.   

Pictured: me (lookin' demented), my upside-down top (I don't even know), and Liz Lewno, a fabulous chickadee.

This summer, though, may be a problem.  The musical is most likely going to be in early June, which is the same time I return from my adventures overseas.  This overlap makes me sad, because I know I can't just audition with a video and waltz into a show with a week or less of rehearsal.  I mean, yes, I'm in Europe (for those of you that took a bathroom break in December and are just returning now), and it's phenomenal, but I'd love to be a part of whatever ACT is cooking up.  

...I suppose this is one of those things that will require me to be patient.  I don't know how to do that.

Vlog Three: I Love Everything

Has it really been a whole week already?  Well!  I've been busy with the whatnot described in this week's installment of What Catastrophe Will Befall My Hair Next?!?, but rest assured, a photo companion to this will follow shortly.  As will actual entries...with written words, not spoken ones. 

Also, happy Valentine's Day! It's nearly 3:00 in the morning here and I can't sleep, hence why this is up so darn early. 

Vlog Two: Don't Let the Scarf Distract You

Tuesday is, now and forevermore, video day. This week's episode includes landmarks, staticky hair, and the music stylings of Veronica Maggio.

[Don't] Sing Out, Louise

One of the first things I realized about my room was how fantastic the acoustics are.  So naturally, I decided to spend my alone time in a constant loop of vocal performance:  Heart, Les Miserables, Ingrid Michaelson, Next to Normal, Madonna, a narration of what I'm doing...it hasn't stopped.  Although it should, because I've only recently realized that if I can hear people talking outside my window, they can hear me belting Like A Prayer.

Oh, and a recap of this weekend's adventures:

Saturday
Went into town, bought a mug, took a different bus than normal and ended up on a tour of Vaxjo's residential area but made it back A-OK.

Sunday
Didn't watch the Superbowl.

That's all for now!

A Glance Into Swedish for Beginners

The class happens on Monday and Wednesday, from 5:00 to 7:30 in the evening.  This is how it goes:

1. We trudge in and shed our layers and whip out our pirated copies of the textbook.  Unless you're me, and then you wait for someone who's had the foresight to prepare for class so you can share.
2. Role call.  Someone's not here.  Someone's not supposed to be here.  Someone switched sections without anyone's permission.  Someone doesn't know his name.
3. Nine years later, we begin.
4. Swedglish ensues: "Jag heter Emelia.  Jag studera political science och pop culture.  [My name is Emelia.  I study political science and pop culture.]" 
5. The Italians shout "Bra! [Good!]" a lot.  
6. A random outburst of English profanity occurs and is ignored.
7. We have a break and I go get a cup of very strong coffee and a snack. 
8. At some point, I feel the need to burst into Spanish.  Wrong. 
9. I draw a picture in my notes.  Sometimes it goes well. 
10. Homework instructions get fired off in a language that is neither Swedish nor English.  My hausaufgaben  will not get done if I can't understand the direcciones. 
11. Finally, we scurry off into the night. 

The magic of learning.

Swedish Words and Phrases I Know for Sure

Hej.  Means hello.
Hej hej!  Means hello, hello! 
Hej doa.  Means goodbye.

Nasta. Means next, as in next stop, or get off here, foreigner.   Useful on trains and buses.

Kyckling.  Means chicken.  Useful when looking at a menu and having no freakin' clue what any of the other words mean.

Jag heter Emelia.  Means My name is Emelia.  Useful when wanting to tell a Swede who you are, thereby instigating a conversation in Swedish that you will have no idea how to translate.

Rea.  Means sale.
Slut.  Means end.  (Not cheap, as I originally thought.)
Slut rea.  Means sale end.  Also means buy the sweater; life is short.

Jag talar engelska, spanska, och lite tyska och svenska.  Means I speak English, Spanish, and a little German and Swedish.  I hope a little translates to incredibly minimal, or else I am falsely advertising my linguistic ability.

Also, I kind of know numbers.

That's all, folks.

In Living Color

If you're in the mood for a drinking game, take a shot of something every time I...

[] Say "anyway"

[] Touch my nose

[] Touch my bangs (they had mascara stuck in them)

If you follow those instructions, you will most likely be buzzed after just two minutes!