Ooooold Sweden

I'm spending the weekend on Gotland, an island in the Baltic Sea, in Visby. Visby is described by a highly reputable source (Wikipedia) as being "arguably the best-preserved medieval city in Scandinavia." I cannot wait (not sarcasm!).

Then I'll return, take a test, go to Budapest, and return to America.  With some time in-between.

Hej Doa, Old Damask.

When Google tells you your blog may have malware, it is indeed cause for concern. Then it is cause for you to delete your damask background that is the cause of the supposed malware.

It is also cause for you to run a complete security scan on your computer, juuuuust in case. 

...I loved that damask. Yet we persevere with this. 

How to Ensure You'll Have a Completely Unproductive Week (And It's Only Thursday!)

• On Sunday afternoon, drink three cups of really strong coffee.  Don't forget to load 'em up with sugar.  Fly higher than a kite 'til that evening.  Then get the strong urge to vomit.  This feeling won't go away for a long time.

• On Monday, go into town.  Return your library books and congratulate yourself on how responsible you are. 
• Drink more coffee when the waitress misunderstands your lunch order.  Feel your heart rate spike.

• Wake up Tuesday.  Be prepared to take on the day.  Then fall asleep again.
• Wake up three hours later. Oops.
• Reason that it's already afternoon, so the day is shot. 
• Shower.  
• Put on clothes. (Hey, these tights have a huge run in the leg. Wow, this dress is short.)
• Put on makeup. (Nothing says "learning" like purple eyeshadow!)
• Realize that you look like a streetwalker. 
• Streetwalk yourself to the library, which of course is closed, as May 1st is a Swedish public holiday.
• Observe public holiday by doing very little.

• Go to class on Wednesday. Wear a sweater.
• Decide your sweater is too hot.  It's too bulky.  The sleeves are too big.  Keep up this internal monologue 'til you cannot take it anymore and fling it into a corner of your room as soon as you return from class, vowing not to look at it ever again. 
• Lounge by the lake and try to get tan. 
• Okay.  Time to learn. 
• March into the library, steeled for reading and  Latin American paper-writing.  But first, have some more coffee and check Facebook.  You've worked hard.  You've earned it. 
• At long last, hunt for the book about Latin American globalization that you need to write said paper.  
• Discover this book is not in its ordained shelf spot.  Or anywhere else. 
• What?
• What?!?
• WHAAAAAAAT?!?!?!?!??!?!
• All right, calm down.  Breathe.  Course books are not allowed to be checked out.  It has to be somewhere.
• BUT WHERE? 
• Look everywhere.
• It isn't anywhere.
• Give up on that for the day (it's obviously not meant to happen right now) and decide to study for yet another political science course. 
• BUT WAIT. There is no one in the 3rd floor study room.  This makes it, of course, the opportune place to practice pirouetting.  Do so.

• On Thursday, drop your Latin American Social Movements & Whatnot course.  It is a beautiful feeling.

T-Minus 38 Days

I have just over a month left in the homeland. Isn't that unreal? In six Sundays from now, I will be at home. This means that in five Sundays from now, I will be trying to jam a bunch of clothes and books I shouldn't have bought into a fuchsia suitcase.

What are you doing this summer? my invisible audience questions.

Well, friends, I don't know. Having a job? Organizing music filing cabinets? Going to Canada? Jacking Jeffie's pickup truck and tooling around the back roads for fun? These are all plausible options.

A job? Shouldn't you kind of have that lined up?


Yeah. Shut up.

Back From the Abyss

Hello, hello!

 I returned from England in one piece. It was fantastic. I also realized that if I could just spend my life flying from place to place, I'd be happy. (Check with me after my June extravaganza of flying from Copenhagen to Oslo to Newark to Minneapolis, because that may cause a shift in my feelings about extensive air travel.)

Highlights of these English adventures:

Windsor Castle! 

HARRODS. Like walking into an extravagant dream

Titanic ads EVERYWHERE. I debated asking strangers to take pictures of me in front of them. But that didn't happen, because I decided to play it cool. 

The building on the left was Sweeney Todd's shop of murder.

Almost all of the family at Kew Gardens! 

A Late-Night List

Ever since I saw Titanic, I've been lying low. It was an exhausting experience. But let me dredge through the past few days and share what I've done...in bulleted format, of course.

• Gotten a library card! (This actually happened before Titanic, but whatever.) Believe it or not, the process was easier than it was in the States. If you have a form of identification and an address, you may have an absolutely free Swedish library card. The library in town has a decent number of books in English and, more importantly, a huge selection of piano books. This is beneficial because there's a piano in one of the buildings on campus. (Relating to that, I've learned that my musical skills have degraded since I lost constant access to pianos. Uh-oh.)
• Had Easter. It didn't feel like a holiday, because I accidentally didn't wake up to go to church. Though I didn't remember what time the service was, so I most likely would've missed it anyway. But my family  apparently mailed me a card, so there is that.
• Laundry.
• My nails.
• ...this list is just gaining momentum, excitement-wise.
  
  (But here the excitement actually does kick in!)
  
  
• Bought a plane ticket for London....again! I'm going to visit my cousins this week. It's so soon! I'm incredibly excited to hit England for round two of British adventures. 

So there we go. I saved the best for last! 

Uff da. It's very late. 

Titanic Titanic Post

People talk about the last Harry Potter movie marking the end of their childhoods.  I never experienced that sentiment--I mean, yes, I loved the series and felt deep emotions when (SPOILER) both Snape and Helena Bonham Carter died, but I didn't feel like it bookended my youth.  I didn't think anything did.

...but then I went to Titanic on Wednesday.  I spent the whole thing being accosted by nostalgia: being seven and jiggling to the bagpipes as my mother cleaned out the coat closet, being seventeen and interrupting a phone call's flow to insist that my conversation partner flip his TV to TNT so he could watch Rose leap out of the lifeboat and reunite with Jack, being any age and streaking my hand down a foggy window...it was like one giant out-of-body experience.  My physical self was wearing 3D glasses and snarfing down fruit chews in Sweden, but my spirit was parked in front of a Quasar TV set and dribbling tomato soup down her shirt in South Dakota.

I could probably fill a book with memories about this film, but I won't, because that would ruin the magic. The bottom line is that a lifetime has been fulfilled, and I am exhausted due to too much thrill.


Anyway, it was beautiful. And worth the 135 Swedish kronor (approximately $20.00, but who's counting?). And I'm going again. Not even a question.

The Filmstaden of dreams. 

I want to have this. 

Where the magic happened.

Directly after. I went in wearing a whole lot more eye makeup than I came out with.