A bargain is something you don't need at a price you can't resist.

I went to the gym a couple of times this weekend. A girl on my floor has a membership to a really nice health club just down the street and because she is out of town this weekend, she offered me her card. I decided to do a class the other day and besides fumbling with swiping the card and checking in to the class, it wasn’t too apparent I’d never been there before. I walked away from the front desk but didn’t know which of the 4 doors lead to the ladies dressing room. I stood there for about 5 minutes until an older lady finally walked by, opened the correct door, and I followed. I went into the class a little early to stretch as it’s been a while since I’ve attended a Zumba class. In comes the male instructor, bouncy and vibrant, just ready to shake his tale feather. I was wondering if they would teach the class in Swedish… he did. I didn’t understand a word but it was more fun that way. I some how managed to sprain my elbow about 15 minutes in. Of course every move consists of waving your hands in the air so I just looked like an unenthusiastic, half-ass participant. Then it was hot tub and sauna time. This consists of a common area shared between both men and women. Greatttt….. I slide into the hot tub with an older man and women. They said something in Swedish to me and I politely responded, “Pardon me?” Immediately the man goes, “Ahhh, American?” We had a nice conversation whilst our legs awkwardly collided into one another under the bubbles. Then, when he left, 4 more old ladies and 1 pregnant woman came to enter the tub. That’s when I decided it was maybe time for me to go. It was so tiny and hardly warm. Not what I had in mind. Off to the sauna room. I was alone a first but I saw a mid-30, slightly balding, somewhat overweight man watching my every move and as soon as I walked in the sauna he got up to join. He was nice and our conversation lasted about 30 minutes until I finally said I had to go and I’d see him around later. His name was Pear. Physically fitting. Won’t have a problem remembering that one. My favorite class to attend at the gym is BodyCombat. The next day I decided to give the class a try and Oh My. The sexiest Swedish guy I’ve ever laid eyes on was the instructor. I haven’t taken the class for over three months but pushed myself as if I hadn’t even missed a class. I am currently so sore I can hardly move. Good motivation to work hard when your trying to impress but oh how my poor body is paying the price.

The weather has actually been very nice the last couple of weeks. People flock to the decks by the lake and sit in the sun for hours, drinking coffee and hanging out. They certainly appreciate when its sunny because the days are few and far in-between. I’m glad it has been an unusually warm winter (still freezing none the less) because I don’t know if I would have been able to handle a winter like they had the last few years. Tons of snow until mid April, no thank you.

It took me a minute to adjust but I’m certainly enjoying being a bit more social. Everyone loves to go out and dance and the clubs here are much better compared to home. I sang karaoke for the first time the other night. It was really fun! Singing is not an area in which I have much confidence so it was nice to get over the fear. I think I’ll hit up karaoke night more often when I get back. Dancing is of course a blast, but I learned quickly I need to watch myself. My first night out with everyone we all danced the night away having a great time but the next day I had coined the nickname “Horney dancer” and was told they had only seen dancing like that on MTV. The part I found most hilarious was that I hadn’t even noticed I was dancing different than everyone else. In North America, that’s what we do; Bump and Grind. As R.Kelly says… Ain’t nothing wrong with a little bump n’ grind… Unless you’re in Sweden and people dance next to each other not ass in crotch.

Btw, Jersey Shore really needs to be canceled. The Situation and Pauly D are polluting the minds of even the sweet Swedish guys who are idolizing these douche bags. Note to males across the world: these egotistical, womanizing, meat heads are not respectable role models and if you watch the show and think its cool to emanate their behavior, you too will be considered a douche bag. 

Swedish people are funny. They have some general personality characteristics that I can certainly appreciate. They are a bit reserved but good conversationalists once you get them talking. Maybe because I’m American its different and we have more to talk about… I know when I’m home and I meet someone with an accent I’m a little more interested just because I know they’re from somewhere else. Maybe that’s it. But it’s so fun nonetheless! I love having conversations about the differences between cultures. I always ask people I meet to tell me something about the people from their culture and it’s a great way to learn. It seems the Swedish are honest people, a bit reserved and maybe somewhat conservative. I was speaking with a Swedish girl at the bar one night and we were discussing socialism in Sweden. She said the only reason it works is 1. Because the Swedish people are honest and don’t strive to cheat the system and 2. They collectively agree that a comfortable lifestyle for all is best instead of a large gap between those with a lot and those with a little. You don’t tip at the bar and restaurants because even the bartenders and wait staff make a good wage that they can live comfortably on. They play by the rules and tend to listen to authority. When you come to a crosswalk, even if there are no cars coming, they still wait until the light tells them to walk. I don’t. They are kind of closed off in that they tend to run together and not let many “outsiders” in their circle. Once you get to know them they can open up and are wonderful, but generally speaking, don’t expect them to approach you wanting to be friends.

After my final next Monday I am leaving to Krakow, Poland. I am so excited! It was the cheapest trip I could find to book and a bit south so I’m hoping for some warm weather. I have booked a hostel for 4 nights so I hope that goes well. It will be the first time I’ve done the hostel thing. 10 visitors to a room… fingers crossed it works out ok. Beside my plane ticket and accommodation, I have no plans. I’ll figure it out when I get there I guess.

Hej då

L

Peanut Butter and Baseball

Peanut butter and baseball. Two truly American crafts and in my opinion, two of the greatest inventions of all time. For weeks I’d get up, go to the kitchen, throw some toast in the toaster and then slather on a heaping knife full of chunky peanut butter. I always got some strange looks but I didn’t realize the raised eyebrows were directed at my toast topping of choice. They don’t understand it. I don’t understand them not understanding. It tastes so good!! As for baseball.. I played throughout my entire childhood, find it to be the best way to spend a Saturday afternoon, and is my favorite live sporting event. The rest of the world is deprived! 

How is the economy in Sweden? I’d say pretty dang good based on the number of current construction projects going on. Everywhere I go, there is banging, hammering and pounding. There have been a couple of lectures where mid-way through class, pounding of steel beams into the ground will begin. The entire overhead projector shakes as poor Mother Nature is being worked over, one continuous blow after another. Approximately 8 am every morning a loud drilling begins just outside my window. Not even my music can dull the construction site sounds when running around the lake. Which, btw, I ran a little over two miles the other day for the first time since my surgery. The pistons are soon to be back!

My Bulgarian neighbor knocked on the door the other day with a gift. His mother had sent him a few bracelets that are white and red striped. Everyone in Bulgaria wears them during the month of March to signify the beginning of spring. You take them off at the first sight of a stork, or the beginning of April. So sweet, I love it! Maybe our weather bracelets are working because the climate is FINALLY becoming tolerable. The sun has shone the last couple of days and I couldn’t welcome it more. My skin has officially turned a light shade of blue as I’ve lost any tan I might have had coming here. It really is amazing at how much better I feel, and how much more energy I have, on days that are sunny. Last Saturday it was beautiful out so I decided to go on a walk. I walked out of my housing accommodation and turned right. I just kept walking and turned where I felt compelled. It was so much fun!! I was out for probably two hours just walking and discovering areas of Jonkoping that I hadn’t seen. Its fairly hilly here so after a very steep incline I decided to go left into what looked like a park area. It was almost, and I emphasize almost, like being in Central Park. The woods surrounded me and the walking paths seemed endless. 

I came across an Alpaca farm with tons of little baby Alpaca running around. I saw what I thought was a Moose, but now that I look it up, I have no idea what it was. A male something with crazy looking antlers and all of his many female companions.  I found a triple waterfall that was beautiful and the stream wound down the mountain beside the walking path. I can’t imagine what it will look like in a couple of months when things are blooming. 

However, my favorite part was walking through the neighborhoods. At one point I got a woof of what smelled like a grill cooking hamburgers and hot dogs, with the sun shining, and the sound of men working the chainsaw and doing lawn maintenance. It’s amazing when the senses get to work what kind of memories they recall. It completely reminded me of a weekend day with my family, just hanging out, cooking, while all the neighbor kids played outside. Happy times.

I’m kind of doing an experiment. The first week I was here they took us on a tour of Jonkoping. We went to this really sweet, quaint park that was perched at the very highest point of the city with an amazing overlook. It reminded me of the movie The Secret Garden, a film I watched literally hundreds of times as a little girl. I want to find that park again but, here’s the kicker, I want to find it without a map or being told. My goal is to set out every weekend and just walk and explore like I did last Saturday, to hopefully come across this park again. I’ll keep you posted.

The last couple of weeks have been such a whirlwind. I wrote a blog a week ago about love and blah blah but since then, things have completely changed and I’m glad I spared you all. I started out this week feeling so baffled by my continuous struggle in this area of my life. I knew I had two choices. One. I could feel sorry for myself and continue to relapse. Two. Watch a million motivational Youtube videos. I choose the later, and shits working. I watch three or four 5-30 minute videos a day. They range from Earl Nightingale- The Secret to Success; No arms, No legs, No worries; George Carlin- The Earth; Advice to live by, etc.

Focusing your attention in the correct, or most positive producing places, can completely change your life. Your life could be a pile of miserable shit and with an instant shift of thought; you can be living in the most glorious moment. It was brought to my attention, by someone I love and trust very much, that I am always a bit discontent. I kind of knew this about myself, but thought coming to Europe would fix it! Aw hell naw. If you’ve got restlessness in your soul, that bitch isn’t staying home if you’re going to Europe. She’s burying herself deep inside your spirit, lying dormant until you’re convinced she’s gone, only to slowly creep her way back into your life as you settle in to what you thought was a content experience. My mom, and probably my grandmother, always said, “Wherever you go, there you are.” So, my dear friend was so kind to point out this restlessness while I was spewing “but, if this” and “well, if I had that” all over my skype screen. I remembered something I did a few years ago. Its an exercise were you put a rubber band or bracelet on your wrist and anytime you think negatively, whether in your head or out loud, you move the rubber band or bracelet to the other wrist. This trains you to actively notice when you’re going into winey mode and you can stop yourself. New neural pathways are created when thoughts come to mind and you literally train your mind to take the positive route, rather than stomp around in the negative. To prove I'm not full of shit, there’s an article I found written by Janet Callaway called “What do Astronauts & New Habits Have in Common? Here’s a snippet below:

“Back in its early days, NASA designed an experiment to determine the physiological and psychological effect of the spatial disorientation the astronauts would experience in the weightless environment. What NASA did is outfit the potential astronauts with convex goggles, which flipped everything in their field of vision 180 degrees. In other words, their world was turned completely upside down. The potential astronauts were required to wear these special goggles 24 hours a day—even when they were asleep. The scientists then sat back to observe what happened. Initially, according to elevated blood pressure and other vital signs, the potential astronauts suffered from extreme stress and anxiety—hardly surprising since their worlds were upside down. As time went on they gradually adapted to some of the stress though not all of it. On the 26th day, something amazing happened for one of the astronauts. His world turned right-side up again even though he continued to wear the goggles 24 hours a day. From days 26-30, the same thing happened for each of the astronauts; their worlds turned right-side up. What the scientists discovered is that after 26-30 days of this continuous stream of new input—think new habit—the astronauts’ brains created neural connections to “rewire” their brains. What the scientists discovered is the brain needs about 30 uninterrupted days for new neural connections to form. Next time you are ready to develop a new habit, learn a new skill, start a new diet or implement your action plan for success, remember the astronauts. Allow your brain the 30 days for the new neural pathways to be built and keep your commitment to yourself.”

Habits are a muscle that need to be strengthened. Its exciting to know the power to finding unconditional happiness lies in my own ability to keep my focus on the positive things and achieve contentment in my life now, exactly as it is.

One thing I know for sure is that if I can’t be happy in Sweden, as a young, intelligent American female getting an education, with the ability to do as I want, say, and please every morning I wake… I’ll surely end up living a tortured existence.

Much love until next time folks.

L

When in doubt, mumble.

Things are going well these days. After getting home from Ireland I decided I would settle into my life here in Jonkoping. Mainly because at the rate I was spending money I would be completely broke by March. I arrived home early Wednesday morning and by Friday I was having a melt down. I’ve been going through this strange shift personally and coming to Jonkoping just expedited the process and shoved it into full swing. My issue stemmed from an urge to be true to who I am and live in a way I can feel good about and proud of, while still meshing with everyone socially. When I surveyed my contacts on Skype, no one was better fit for this conversation than Granny Bird. She assured me that there was nothing wrong with me and that I need to continue being authentic and live my life how I want to and stop concerning over what others think or are doing. It always sounds so easily put. As days pass I only see improvement in my confidence and ability to make the right choices for myself. I continue to swallow double doses of growth in my independent ability as I’m realizing I'll simply starve if I continue to expect being spoon-fed. It’s invigorating to see past guidelines and boundaries and I’m finding that attitude is being spread throughout all aspects of my life. Life is only as restricting as you allow it to be. Nothing is ever for sure. Don’t be afraid to change it.

The cereal here is awful. All they sell are flakes! Corn flakes, bran flakes, oat flakes, wheat flakes.. just a bunch of shitty tasting flakes. I miss Kashi Crunch and Mini Wheat’s.

Speaking of food… in my dorm we have Sunday dinner and everyone cooks something representative of where they’re from. Well I am letting the US down, big time. The first time I tried cooking nachos. Growing up we always had Friday nacho night and I always looked forward to a big plate of chips, cheese, and veggies with a big dollop of Daisy. Perfect! Tostitos really needs to tap into the Swedish market because there are NO good tortilla chips to be found here. I settled for an unfamiliar brand but it just threw everything off. I cut up a bunch of veggies but I didn’t have any shredded cheese. I took sliced cheese and laid it over the top of the chips. Ugh. They were pathetic. I was so embarrassed. Last Sunday I decided to try chocolate chip cookies. The Turkish guy down the hall did a year abroad in the US during high school and said he missed his housemothers chocolate chip cookies. Yes, got that! If there is one thing I know how to make its definitely cookies. So I go to the grocery store to buy the ingredients. No cookies from a package. Ok… flour. There was no such thing as all-purpose flour so I opted for the bag that had what appeared to be a cinnamon bun on it. No baking soda, but they did have baking powder. The guy said they are the same thing but they’re not, right?? Most recipes in the US call for both don’t they? Anyway, I bought baking powder and went to look for chocolate chips. They don’t have chocolate chips either!!! My only option was a $5 bag of M&M’s that was comparable to a king size bag you buy at the checkout. Practically gold. Then, the cooking begins. All the ingredients added and it looked like I’d made porridge. It was soupy and doughy and clumpy. I added a little more of this and a little more of that and threw it in the oven. A guy and girl from Mexico were cooking enchiladas for our floor. All 15 of us sat around the table and ate together, savoring over the delicious meal. Time for dessert. FML. My cookies turned out flat, stuck to the pan, the M&M’s had lost all their coloring and looked like brown craters, and the consistency was just all wrong. We all had a good laugh but once again.. I retreated from the kitchen in despair.

There is a girl named Sandra who I met in Fayetteville last semester while she was doing an exchange program from Jonkoping. We’ve been in touch as we are both attending school here now. I’ve got an in with the Swedes! We watched a movie at her apartment the other day and I almost swallowed my tongue when she told me that she only pays aprox $25 more in rent a month. It’s a studio apartment and so nice, and new, and clean, and QUIET! Too late now to dwell, but damn I’d wish I’d known. She also informed me that these beautiful blondes are not all necessarily natural.. There are salons on almost every corner; I was wondering how they stayed in business. 

I have a prediction. I predict that shortly, the chunky heel will be making its way back into current fashion trends. I’m seeing it everywhere! Could be wrong, but be on the lookout.

A little etiquette tip while shopping in Sweden: When you put your items on the black rubber thing in the check out line, you always put down a divider after your stuff. I noticed everyone doing it so I caught on, but one time I forgot, and you’d of thought I had spit in someone’s face. One sure way to get a quick ‘go to hell look’.

I got a position writing an article for the JIBS United magazine, a magazine the business school publishes three times a year. I’m so excited as I’ve really enjoyed writing since arriving in Sweden. School is going really well. I’m learning a lot and warming up to this independent studying. I wrote a paper for Research Methods the other day I felt so good about I could have screamed. I read all the time, continue to study, and add to, my large stack of Swedish flashcards, I write, I research, I’m beginning to walk or workout daily, and rarely sleep. It takes me hours to fall asleep lately, and when I finally do, its well after 2-3 a.m. I guess I have a lot on my mind.

That’s all for now,

L

Ireland.. Where the Guinness flows like wine and the redheads flock like the salmon of Capistrano.

Well it has certainly been quite a week. I hardly had time to shit, shower, and shave before I saddled up again and took off for another trip. I did make it to class, and let me tell you, stamina is required for these 3-hour lectures guided by a man who could potentially croak at any moment. Thursday came and I was off bright and early to catch the bus. I sparked up convo with a middle age man and what do ya know, he’s Irish! As we go to get on the bus he says, “Go ahead and put your suitcase under the bus and I’ll grab us some seats!” I didn’t realize that was the beginning of our 13-hour trek together. I don’t think there was a consecutive 2 minutes of silence once that man got started. I’ve heard the Irish are talkers so I wasn’t too surprised. I enjoyed his company and it certainly made a long day of traveling go by quickly. We were so tight by the end of the day he even held my hand as we landed. First, Swedish granny and now, old Irish man! I wonder what’s next?! Aaron, a friend of mine who recently moved to Ireland from Canada, was waiting to pick me up. After a lost buzz and slight ear exhaustion, once I’d arrived I was pretty much ready for dinner and some zzzz’s.

The next day we set off for fun in Dublin. Aaron really wanted to see the Book of Kells at the Trinity College library so we went there first. I was most impressed with the handwriting. It’s insane to think about how long it must have taken them to write even a page. The lines are perfect and not even the slightest mess up occurs. Well, that I could see anyway. I would love to know how many old people have grumbled to one another, “Look at that penmanship. There’s just no appreciation for penmanship anymore.. The damn youth have ruined it!” I included a picture I found on Google as your not allowed to take pictures. 

We then went to a couple museums where we saw some other old shit and after feeling like we got our bore fix, headed to a pub for a Guinness. I had a few on this trip but I must say, this first Guinness I might possibly remember for the rest of my life. It tasted absolutely splendid! 

We savored those for an hour or so, ate some cheesy fries, and headed off to find the old Guinness factory.  My impression of Dublin surprised me a bit as it wasn’t quite what I was expecting. I guess because what I’ve seen of Europe so far has been so clean and polished. Ehhhh I wouldn’t give Dublin that much. The city felt a bit rough and industrial but it did have some beautiful buildings, mainly churches. 

We did make it to the factory and had such a great time. The tour was at your own pace so we took our time winding up the factory, checking things out, taking pictures, and stopping for a couple Guinness’s here and there along the way. We got to pour our own Guinness, which was fun. We spent most of the day there and before leaving we decided to go up to the glass bar at the top, where you have a 360 degree view of the city skyline. Lights at night are my favorite! It was a beautiful sight and we hung out there for 15 minutes or so. 

We wound our way down to the exit and I think we were literally the last ones to leave the building. We stumbled outside, not realizing how wasted we were, and all of a sudden these 3 guys start walking towards us. I clung to Aaron quickly as the situation just didn’t feel right and instantly made me uncomfortable. One of the guys walked straight up to Aaron and hit him across the face at what looked like a 90 mph blow. He went down in a flash, and as his body lay there limp, one of the other guys snatched his wallet and camera. I was standing there alone, when it hit me that I had to make a move fast or I was going to find my self in a very unfortunate situation. I took a deep breath and calmly said, “You messed with the wrong woman this evening gentlemen.” I side kicked the one coming towards me in the right kneecap, sending him to the ground screaming. I pulled out my pepper spray and nailed all three of them in the face, elbowing one and punching the other I hadn’t had the pleasure of assaulting yet. While they were crying like babies and clawing at their eyes, I picked up Aaron and ran through the alleyway back to the street area. Alright folks… there is one thing I can assure you about my writing. It is that I never lie, and if I do, Ill tell you. I just lied. Damnit, but I was so cool for second! Alright, lets take it from “we stumbled outside.” We walked outside, hoofed it back to the hotel, had one more drink at a pub and listened to an Irish band, and then called it a night. Told ya, the adlibbed version is way more fun. Though, I’m sure Aaron appreciates my clarification.

The next day we had breakfast and headed up the coast to Belfast, Northern Ireland. I love landscapes and much prefer it to the city. Ireland was much more mountainous than I had pictured and the rock formations on the coast are absolutely beautiful. 

I wasn’t able to make our yearly family trip to Maine last summer so when we stopped to take a picture and I opened the door to the salty, coastal smell that I love so much, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. It made me feel so warm and at peace inside. 

There were lots of sheep of course, which I found far more thrilling than Aaron. 

We played this game along the way where when you see a horse, you call “horse” and if you see two horses, you call “horse, horse,” and so on. You add them up as you see them, trying to call them out before the other person. If you see a graveyard, you call “graveyard” and then you bury the other person’s horses and they are back to zero. Anyway, I think all the horses were hanging out in the stable that day because our game was very low scoring. Unbeknown to him, on the way to the airport (on Tuesday, I’ll explain in a bit) I scored 56 horses and as our bus was pulling into the airport there was a massive graveyard and I buried all of his horses. So, I win. I just want that one to go down in the record books. The trip was about 3 hours before we arrived at Giant’s Causeway. This landmark is very unique as it consists of thousands of rocks that look like columns or pillars stacked side by side. It is the remnants of volcanic activity some 50-60 million years ago. It was beautiful and such a great night to be there. The sky was blue and the sun shown, the moon was out, and the weather crisp and cool.

We drove back to Belfast where we were staying for the evening. We decided to go out and enjoy some local nightlife. The first pub we went to was really packed but we managed to snag a booth and did some serious people watching, my favorite form of entertainment. Aaron continued drinking Guinness but I was back to the usual Gin and tonic at this point. To finish the night off we danced the night away at a club below our hotel. I haven’t been able to be very active since the tata’s arrived, so it was nice to break loose for an hour or so. My hips were not lying the next morning as apparently dancing also counted as a much-needed legwork out.

So here is where things get a little hazy. We woke up thinking we had most of the day to walk around and as long as we left by 2 pm, we should have no problem getting to the airport in time. Wrong. Mistake number 1. We left at 2:30 and stopped at a gas station for 20 minutes. Mistake number 2. We drove 30-45 minutes West, not South. When finally back on track, Aaron stepped on it. My flight was to leave at 5:10. We got to the airport at 4:45, had a quick goodbye, and I dashed off. I got through security surprisingly fast, literally ran through the mall of an airport, and arrived at my gate right as the last people were boarding the plane. The guy checks my ticket and says, “You don’t have this signed by security. You have to show them your passport and they check you off here.” WTF. My heart sank to the pit of my stomach as my hope of getting on that plane slipped from my fingers. Let me warn you, if your traveling in Europe, particularly Ryanair and you check in online, you must have your passport checked at the very beginning of the check in process and you have to tell them to check it otherwise you’ll get through security just fine, arrive at your gate, and then be told you must go back. I also forgot to do this in Stockholm the first time but because of the way security was laid out, it was caught earlier and wasn’t a big deal. I looked at the man and said, “So, If I go back, the plane will have departed, and I’ll miss the flight…” He says, “Yes, I’m sorry but your not going to make this flight.” I think the worst part was having to walk all the way back through the airport, past all the people I’d just sprinted past in a flurry. They knew. I had “I missed my flight and I’m really sad,” written all over my energy. I called Aaron from a pay phone to let him know I hadn’t made it and he turned around and came back to pick up my sorry ass. We’d both known that was a viable option given the circumstance. The next flight left Tuesday so I settled into the fact I wouldn’t be home for a couple of days. He bought us dinner, drinks, and dessert in honor of my missed flight. It ended up being a wonderful night.

I had a paper due Monday at midnight so when Aaron went to work that day, my plan was to finish and submit my paper. He left around 8:30am and soon after I got up for breakfast and a shower. Now, ok… remember I’m safety girl. I lock doors and am cautious of my surrounds, especially when naked and in the shower as that feels like a vulnerable place to be if someone were to break in. Ok, soooo I lock the bedroom door. It’s not just a normal lock on knob, but more like a deadbolt you lock with an old fashioned key. I get in the shower and clean up. 15 minutes later I dry off and attempt to unlock the door. Not a budge. That lock was not even slightly turning as I practically ripped the skin off my fingers trying to turn that dang key. I put the key in, I took the key out, I turned it around, flipped it up side down, turned it to the right, and tried and tried and tried turning it to the left. Nothing. I noticed the key had a hole in the end that I was using to turn it. I thought, maybe if I could just get better leverage. So I stuck a pair of scissors through the hole and tried to turn. The head of the key snaps off and I’m left holding the evidence of my stupidity. How the hell am I supposed to turn it now! I have no clothes in his room, no keys to his house, no phone, not a single thing that could help me but apparently my wee size brain. There’s a window and the drop isn’t far. I put the tights and tank top on that I was wearing before and Aaron’s hoodie and shoes. I shimmy my body out the window and onto the side street. There’s a massive rod iron gate that I must get through to be on the main road. I later learned there is a button that easily opens a side door to the gate, but at the time, I had not discovered that yet. I begin to climb. Honest to God, that moment, as I was perched atop the gate, looking like a wet street rat, will forever be solidified in my mind. A man pushing a wheelbarrow, accompanied by his dog, just stopped and stared. I climbed back down and asked him for help. He didn’t understand what the hell I was doing and as crazy as my story was, I don’t blame him. Anyway, he helped me over the fence regardless. Ok, now what do I do. The day before, Aaron had showed me where the library was. I decided I would walk there. They weren’t open until 10am and it was 20 till. I decided to walk through the mall next door and see if there was a cell phone or computer shop I could hit up. There was but apparently they don’t connect their devices to the Internet. No help. I walked back to the library and waited. I explained myself to the librarian and she was so kind to let me use the computer for free. I got on Facebook, of course, to try and reach Aaron. I did and after 30 minutes of back and forth, he met me back at his apartment. He had to call his landlord and have him come let us in. This is a picture of me outside his complex as he couldn’t believe the get up I’d just strutted around town in. So embarrassing.

PS That is not the rod iron gate I climbed- it is the
Everest equivalent to this puny thing. 

I did get my paper completed and turned in on time so all was well. I went grocery shopping, cooked dinner, and after work Aaron and I just hung out and watched a movie. The next day I walked to the local bus station and caught a ride to the Dublin airport, where I did a lot of horse sight seeing. The flight was smooth and I arrived to Stockholm safely. 

Because my Swebus ticket had expired, I had to get a new one. I thought I would do this at the airport in Stockholm when I arrived. A lady told me to catch the local bus and I could buy one at the Nykoping bus station. When I arrived at the local bus station, it was closed. Another pickle. A cell phone would have solved all problems but not having one makes things more interesting. Acquiring life skills, ya know. I walked through the town and found a hotel. I explained to the girl at the desk that I needed to buy a bus ticket and wondered if they had a computer in the reception area I could use. She points to one in the corner and says, “Please, feel free!” It even had a printer right there where I could print the ticket out. Pure luck. Then I went to a local pub and had a massive dinner while I sat and read until my bus arrived at midnight. Another 3:30 am arrival and this girl is ready to take it easy for a while. I don’t plan on going anywhere until March rolls around. All in all, it was a wonderful trip.

I finally received my books for class so this weekend I will be doing a lot of catching up. Looking forward to it!

L

Malta, my love!

I made it to the airport last Wednesday morning, excited about my adventure to Malta. I woke around 6:45am, enjoyed some cereal and stuffed the last of my things into my champion of suitcases, the lovely carryon. We’ll call her Carrey. I left my apartment building 25 minutes before my bus would be leaving to insure enough time to figure this thing out. As I blazed the way with Carrey on these cobblestone streets, I believe I helped wake even the deaf. This weather and these streets are not conducive for dragging a bag with wheels, as it sounds like a jet coming down the runway. Thanks to the janitor of the bus station, I got on the right bus. My ticket says ‘Nykoping Busstn’ and the bus I was to get on said ‘Stockholm’. I don’t know if I just suck at inferring the obvious but I wouldn’t have known to get on that bus. Thank God people are gracious and I’m not afraid to ask for help. There was one stop in alsdkfjj where I got off the Swebus and bought a ticket for the local bus which brought me to the airport. The Swebus trip was 3 hours and there were no stops for a bathroom break. When we arrived at the station the first thing I did was look for a restroom. You can use the restroom there, but your going to have to pay. It cost 5 Kroner or approx .75 cents. I felt like I should stay in there a couple minutes after I was finished. Use the dryer a couple times. Blot my face with some toilet paper. Fill up my water bottle in the sink.

Going through security was pretty hilarious. Since I’ve only got Carrey with me, it was fairly simple. I decided to go ahead and bring my pepper spray because I was traveling alone and I would feel better if I had something to back up my kung fu.  Not that it’s ever failed me before, but having a plan B never hurts. The man behind the computer tells his sidekick to pull my bag and have a look. Aw shit, caught! The man opens my bag and pulls out my 2 containers of face wash, shampoo and conditioner, and my toothpaste. He runs Carrey back through and my hygiene products separately. I was prepared to rat myself out assured he was going to say, “There’s something else in here we see, were going to need you to pull your things out.” But no. He informs me he’ll have to confiscate my toothpaste because it is over 100ml. So I walk away without any toothpaste but still possessing a potentially harmful substance if utilized while aboard the plane.

The flight was great. A bit crammed and without the luxurious extras, but we made it. I sat next to the nicest duo, a Swedish woman and her mother. “Muma” was 85 years old and the cutest little thing I’ve ever seen, besides my grannies of course. As we began the descent, the plane was bouncing around a bit and making me nervous. Muma says “No scare!” and grabs my hand and squeezes it tight. She held my hand for the remaining 30 minutes of the flight until we had landed safely. I wanted to put her in my pocket and take her with me she was so precious.

As expected, everything went smooth and there was a friendly looking Maltese man waiting at the exit with a sign that had my name on it. This taxi ride had given me some mental grief and anguish as it makes me uneasy to be in a country I’ve never been, have a strange man put me in his vehicle, and then ride off into the night without my knowing in which direction is the right one. We chatted it up and I felt good about things. The street signs also signified we were headed to the town I was staying in so that permitted some relief. I was amazed at how beautiful the island was at night. The city skyline was absolutely beautiful as we wound through the streets and countryside. Domes, castles, and cathedrals were lit up from miles away. It was amazing already and I’d just arrived. When I got to the hotel I was very pleased to learn that the $22/night room I’d booked was very nice. It pays off to travel in the off-season. I took a bath and slept like a baby.

I woke up early Thursday morning to have breakfast and find something fun to do for the day. The continental breakfast was amazing! Seriously anything you could want. One morning I made the mistake of going down around 8:30, just when all the families staying at the hotel were ready to chow down. Little boys and girls were running back and forth filling up their plates with Nutella. “But its like peanut butter mom!” they’d exclaim with a mouthful. I went to the front desk and asked where I could find brochures etc on things to do. She pointed to a reception desk with a lady behind it and said she could help me. I booked two bus tours on different days that would show me various areas around the island, a day jeep tour where you take a fairy to Gozo and explore, and the Malta Extravaganza which is like dinner and a show. I did the South tour my first day there and it was one of the best days of my life!

By 9:30am I was off and headed down the coast. It took about an hour to get to Sliema, a coastal city situated next to Valetta. From there I caught the South Tour bus that would take me along the southern part of the island. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I was absolutely freaking out in my mind. Everything was so beautiful. Malta has such variation; harbors, narrow city streets, farmland, rocky and sandy beaches, etc. 

At one point I was bumping along a dirt road atop the bus completely alone, just having the time of my life, laughing hysterically as if their was a comedian aboard. I cant imagine what the bus driver down below was thinking as I knew he was aware I was the only passenger up there. The sun was shining and the landscape absolutely stunning. I don’t think you could have slapped the smile off my face. I was just so happy I’d made the decision to come and faced the concern of traveling alone. I actually loved being alone. I do a great job keeping myself company and many times during the trip I was glad not to have to talk. It’s nice to be internally focused rather than externally from time to time. When we arrived at the fishing port I got off the bus and walked around. I bought some cookies and almonds from a man with a stand at the market. I took a seat on a bench right next to the water to relax and eat my goodies while watching the fisherman work on their boats. Pure bliss. 

I continued on around the island, taking a million pictures of everything. I love how all of the houses/flats/condos all have these great balconies. The colors used on the doors and windows are bright and beautiful with rod iron decorative accents against the stone façade of the building. I couldn’t paint it more perfect if I tried. When we arrived back in Sliema I walked around for an hour and half before catching the transport back to my hotel. I scoped out all kinds of boutiques with wonderful things I wanted to buy but I decided I would wait until I came back on Sunday to shop. When I arrived back at my hotel I had approximately an hour to get ready before my ride would pick me up for the Malta Extravaganza Dinner and Show.

I was the first stop that evening and at first I thought, “Damn, this massive bus just for me!” but he proceeded to stop at many hotels filling every seat. I didn’t mind another evening ride, as simply looking out the window at this beautiful place was enough for me to be very happy. After a little over an hour we arrived at our destination. We got front row seats, as the place wasn’t that packed. I got a little nervous when the horsemen came out and one couldn’t get his to behave. They all seemed a bit inexperienced. Prediction confirmed. They were all very inexperienced. It’s always a bad sign when the same person plays multiple roles. It brought me back to Ocotober 2008 when I auditioned to be a dancer on a cruise ship. If I’d of known the caliber of talent in Malta, this would have been first stop, as I probably would have landed the leading role.  Anyway, It was still entertaining and comical, but for reasons other than what they were aiming for. The food was good and wine plentiful.

Friday I woke up early and waited for the bus to pick me up for the Jeep tour on Gozo Island. The ferry was fun and again the sun was shining and it was projected to be a beautiful day. An older couple from England and myself met our guide outside the port. Malta gained their independence from the British in 1964 but relations are good and many from the UK vacation in Malta. Majority of the couples I met were from England. Most people boarded these buses that held 15-50 people. The jankiest jeep in the parking lot was our baby for the day and we excitedly crawled in the back seat. 

Our first stop was at the Ggantija Temples which is one of the oldest standing buildings in the world. The temple consists of two temple units enclosed by a single boundary wall. They were constructed by farmers and herders over several hundred years, between 3600-3000 BC, using local limestone a couple of miles away. At that time the wheel hadn't been invented so it is believed small, round stones were used as ball bearings to transport the rocks. Can you imagine?? Rituals of life and fertility were practiced within the walls for about 1,000 years until the Maltese Temple Culture disappeared abruptly. It was an amazing feeling walking around the grounds where so much history has unfolded. 

We then proceeded to many beautiful places along the island. When we stopped at window rock the guide gave us 30 minutes to check things out. I walked along the water-riddled rock taking in the stunning sight. A Maltese man, 40 something with long hair and weather warn skin, approached me and said, “Beautiful day isn’t it?” I gave a smile and agreed. The small talk continued for a minute until I realized he was trying to pick me up. I mentioned I had to go but he continued, suggesting I go check out this cave with him. Ha! Ok creeper, nice one but no thanks. I was happy when our guide flagged me over because it was time to go. 

We stopped for lunch and I had the most amazing caprese salad. Across the street was a private school and all the kiddos were out for recess. I watched them beat up on each other while having to restrain myself from walking over and reprimanding them for picking on one another. You couldn’t pay me to go back to middle school. Our next stop was the city center and we had an hour and half to walk around. I went my separate way from my fellow passengers and walked around the city streets. It was almost eerie as everything was closed and not many people were around. Everything closes in the afternoon and then opens back up from 4-7pm. So why the hell he would take us there at 1:30, I’ll never know. There was this massive church/fort he suggested we check out so I walked there. It was amazing! You could see the entire island as it was certainly perched at the highest point. It was used as a look out for invaders. The very top was like a rooftop garden. 

I was so exhausted I decided to lie down for about 30 minutes and stare at the sky. When I realized I was steering people clear of checking out the view from where I was, I decided to get up. Our last stop was this cute little town on the water, known for its great scuba diving. There was a peer with a really nice walk way and lots of benches, so I decided to take a stroll. From behind me I hear, “Beautiful day isn’t it?” I had to double take as I thought it was that same guy from window rock. This time it was a thirty something Gozien man (you’re Maltese if you’re from Malta and Gozien if you’re from Gozo) with long hair, a rough exterior, and the scent of cigarettes that could knock you off your feet. I responded in agreeance and we awkwardly walked together while he attempted to spit game. We chatted a bit but I was beginning to become annoyed at my sightseeing time being hijacked by these intruders. He said he would come to Malta and we could get coffee if I’d like, but I politely said no, thank you. He kept saying, “Well it's up to you but I wouldn’t mind coming to Malta and we could have good conversation and a cappuccino… etc etc.” I’d love to know the success rate of these guys who prey on tourists. That’s a list I’d like to stay off of. The day came to a close and after all the excitement I was so ready for a shower and my bed.

Saturday was my relaxing day. I booked a facial and pedicure and made hanging out and eating main priority. I walked around various places in Melleiha and worked the camera a little bit. It was so nice and I enjoyed every minute of it.

My last day in town I decided I would catch the bus to Sliema. I met a wonderful couple from England  and they filled my head with all kinds of traveling ideas. They are both retired after working 40 years and are just now able to relax and travel. To bad you can’t travel when you’re young and make money when you’re old. I want to find a way to combine the two. There was this little old lady who got on the bus and bless her heart. She needed help on the bus, then her walker was rolling all over the place, she couldn’t find her ticket when the man came around to collect them… though we were all helping her I could tell the poor thing was so distressed. I arrived just in time for the 10am church service in Sliema. I sat in a chair in the back and to the side but was quickly frustrated that I couldn’t see the priest or the beautiful ceiling in the center of the church. I decided to snag a better seat so I got up and walked to the front, took a right turn to the center where the pews were and there he was, the Priest, dead center and right in front of me. I went ahead and quickly took a seat. The service was in Maltese I’m guessing. I mumbled, moving my lips to the songs as not to stick out from the rest or appear disrespectful. The priest spoke for about 25 minutes, hunched over the podium with the holy book in front, as he spoke passionately with his fist raised. I nodded as in agreement throughout the service as the man was practically speaking to me. I haven’t been to church in over a year and it’s been at least 9 since I attended a Catholic service one Easter Sunday. I went up for Communion and after dislodging the wafer from the roof of my mouth, pulled off the sign of the cross quit nicely. The service was over and I was reminded why I quit going to church in the first place. Removed from the distraction and in the comfort of my home, I can find myself much closer to the divine in a 30-minute meditation. None the less, I'm glad I went as most on the island are Roman Catholic and they take great pride in their place of worship.

After realizing every clothing shop was closed on Sunday, I settled for a cozy pizzeria on the waterfront. I practically ate the place empty as I was there for a couple of hours before my ride would take me back to the hotel.

My trip home went well though it consisted of 12 hours of hopping from taxi, plane, bus, another bus, and then the home stretch on foot. I get to do it all over again on Thursday!

All in all, I suggest Malta for a vacation any day. It is very safe, everyone speaks English, getting around is very easy and inexpensive, and the people are so friendly. So theres my plug for Malta, cheers!

Ps I am studying a little.

L

Don't sweat the petty stuff and don't pet the sweaty stuff

I have been so let down and hurt by my current coffee situation. At first, I was buying coffee and usually a pastry or two every morning. Then I decided I better buy coffee grounds from the grocery and learn how to use this French coffee maker thingy. So I did, and it was amongst the most offensive taste that has yet to hit my palate. I bought some new, more expensive, coffee grounds that were suggested to me and gave it try the following day. I felt nauseous for hours. Practically bed ridden with a stomachache and headache, I lay in my bed cursing the creator of that horrid coffee. After hours of recovery, I decided it was in the best interest of my health to give up the addiction. No more warm, soothing cup of coffee in the morning to start my day. Maybe it will indirectly help me cut down on the sweets as well. You know you’ve become a fat kid when you get seriously pissed about your muffin purchase because the good stuff is only on top and not throughout. I want more chocolate chips and pecans damnit!

Swedish women are truly beautiful. Fair skin, light eyes, typically thin- maybe because they all smoke, and of course, beautiful blonde locks. Though not scientifically proven, they could potentially be smarter than a man-made blonde simply due to the lack of ammonium seeping into their scalp every 6 weeks since they were 15. In theory, this could lead to higher brain cell count and therefore superior function. If not a biological difference there is certainly a physical one. Haven’t seen a dark root on a light haired head since I arrived. It’s quite easy to feel like an ugly duckling next to all these swans flocking around. My goal first and foremost is to keep warm when I leave my apartment, which means I mostly feel like the abominable snowman clunking down the street.  Wait until I can shed these layers ladies, this southern belle, though frightful in the winter, sure knows how to shine in the summer time!

Far more people smoke here than in the US. I just want to walk up to them, flick it out of their hand and bark, “Don’t you know smoking quit being cool in 90’s?!?!” I refrain for multiple reasons. 1. I probably wouldn’t make any new friends and 2. They could retort quickly about my boot cut jeans and unkempt ponytail.

Vodka, unfortunately, seems to be the alcoholic beverage of choice in Sweden. When I asked why, after silence filled the room, a guy explained this is where Absolut amongst many other types of vodka are made. Well not to offend kind sir BUT it's still gross. They should take some advise from their neighbors, the UK and home to my drink of choice, Tanqueray, about the processes and creation of alcohol. 

It's funny how things that wouldn’t make you uncomfortable at home, can make you very self-conscious in another country. I’ll speak for myself but I have found many times I act silly over things I wouldn’t otherwise think twice about in the US. I was at the grocery store the other day when I picked up a bag of spaghetti and the plastic packaging broke and spaghetti went everywhere in my little roller cart. (This small plastic basket that is similar in size to the ones you hold but it rolls on the ground and you pull it) I was so embarrassed!! Back home I would have laughed, nudged the lady who saw, and made a joke. Here, I wanted to roll into a ball and die. I tried picking up the spaghetti and placed as much of it as I could on a box and continued shopping. I left quickly though as some remaining pieces were sticking out the sides of my basket and I felt like everyone was staring at the trail of evidence I was leaving from my disaster. Ordering food is also a biggie. When I go to the mall I just stare at the menu and because I don’t know what the hell anything says, I just move onto the next feeling like I have “Foreigner” written all over my forehead. Everywhere I go I feel lost, except for my usual paved paths of course, and it’s exhausting. I’m sure no one even notices me but I feel like Waldo in a sea of people and everyone’s eyes are on me, watching my every move so they can pin me down! Eventually, I'm sure, this madness will subside.

There is a nightclub under my apartment building. An older male, younger female kind of nightclub. They bump music Friday and Saturday until 2 am, which reverberates through the whole building, and then until approx 3 am you get to listen to drunken stragglers yelling in various languages. I’ve purchased earplugs but have accepted the fact that on the weekends I will not be going to sleep until at least after 3. Orrrr maybe I’ll go join them. I could use the extra money. My parents always said, “Shake what yo’ momma gave ya!” Just kidding, no they didn’t. But seriously, I might.

So I did book a trip and leave to Malta, an island off the coast of Italy, this coming Wednesday. I felt like such a big girl as it was the first time I’d ever planned a trip without the help and input from someone else. I’m going all by myself for 5 days and 4 nights. Sooo excited!! I went ahead and booked a taxi ahead of time so I don’t await another public transportation disaster to kick-start my vacation. I look forward to letting you know all about it. Until then, I’ll continue to listen to my Bulgarian neighbor rap to Eminem.

Lots of love,

L